Chapter Two

                                    

                                          
Ashley
                          
I hurry to the front of the shop when I hear the front door open. I sigh when I see it's only Logan. "What are you doing here so early?" I ask him.

                          
He shrugs. "Well, It's Friday and I know the delivery truck's coming. Besides, I didn't think it was a good idea for you to be alone with Asher."
                          
"Why? Do you think he's going to kill me and sell my organs on the black market?"
                          
He looks at me like I'm crazy. "Uh, no? I think he's a decent guy, I just know how you get a little uncomfortable around people you don't know."
                          
"That's true," I say, giving Logan a couple of boxes to take out to the dumpster.
                          
I get caught in a daze after he leaves, wondering if I should be afraid of Asher. I try not to judge people based on their pasts, but he's so intimidating it's hard not to feel a little uneasy.
                          
The timer on the oven goes off, giving me just enough time to get another batch of brownies out before we open for the day. I hurry to the kitchen and slide on the bright red, half-burnt oven mit that I've had for years. I take the brownies out of the oven and set them down just as the front door opens again.
                          
Thinking it's just Logan, I continue working in the kitchen until it's time to officially open. I walk into the front of the shop where all of our goodies are displayed and stop dead in my tracks when I see him. I feel like I've ran into an invisible wall.
                          
He looks like the definition of a bad boy in that leather jacket. Wow, he is so good looking. I hope I'll be able to compose myself all day.

                          
"Asher, right?"I ask, even though there's not I chance I could forget his name.

                          
"Right. I believe I'm here to, uh... prove you wrong?"
                          
He seems like the arrogant type, which I despise. What he doesn't seem like is the type that would be of any use to me in the kitchen. Which is exactly why I could care less about his arrogance. I'll probably never see him again after today anyway.
                          
I motion for him to follow me. "Just so you know, I'm not going to make it easy for you."
                          
"I always appreciate a challenge."
                          
We walk into the kitchen and he takes a look around. I'm curious to know what he knows about baking. Probably nothing at all. If I had to guess, he probably thinks this is just some easy, peasy job that he can do with his eyes closed. 
                          
He takes off his jacket and tosses it casually to the side. My jaw nearly drops. His arms are huge and covered in tattoos. His fitted gray t shirt clings tightly to his hard body like a second skin. 
                          
"Like what you see?" he asks, breaking me out of the daze I didn't realize I was in. 
                          
Damn. He's noticed me checking him out already. "You mean your prison body?"
                          
His jaw clinches at my words and he looks down. Note to self: no joking about prison. "I'm kidding. Some girls like that dirty, grimy, biker look, I hear," I say, hoping to lighten the mood. 
                          
I smirks. "Some girls like you, Buttercup?"
                          
"Buttercup? Really?" 
                          
"Some girls like nicknames, I hear," he winks. 
                          
I turn away from him to hide the heat rushing to my cheeks. "Everything you need is here. If there's something that we don't have, just let Logan know and he'll go get it for you."
                          
I can feel his eyes on me, so I turn and give him a questioning look. 
                          
"So, what exactly is it that you want me to do?" he asks.