Chapter One
Ivy
Ashton Stanbrook is a pain in my ass.
He leans casually against the wall by the drawing-room door, his arms crossed over his broad chest, a smile pulling at his mouth as he listens to Mom's speech.
"I'd like to thank everyone for coming here tonight. It's a double celebration as not only is it Ivy's twenty-first birthday, but she's also graduated college early," Mom beams at the guests gathered around in the large drawing-room.
It's the happiest I've seen her since Dad died. For months she's been telling me I need to get my head out of the clouds and focus on my future. I tend to be a bit of a daydreamer, which I know drives her crazy at times.
She's a fantastic defense lawyer, so she's practical and organized at all times—unlike me. I'm messy and disorganized, the one who's always running late or forgetting where I'm supposed to be. It's a minor miracle in itself that I've graduated at all with my short attention span—and not only graduated but graduated early.
However, there is something that's held my attention span for more than a nanosecond—or rather, someone.
Ashton.
A man I've wanted since before I even knew what wanting was. I mean, what's not to like about him? He's caring, rugged, handsome, with his dark hair, blue eyes, and tall, muscular body.
I can't help what I feel for him. The childish daydreams I had about him during my youth became something much more grown-up, and by the time I hit eighteen, I could barely string a sentence together in his presence.
He's always looked out for Mom and me, especially since Dad died five years ago. He took care of everything, from the legal paperwork to the funeral arrangements. I don't know what we would've done without him. I was sixteen then. Maybe that's when I began to see him as a man rather than a mentor.
I remember watching him one day as he mowed the lawn for us. It was hot that day, and he peeled off his t-shirt, giving me a delicious view of his broad shoulders and tight abs.
I've been half in love with him for as long as I can remember. I've gone all out tonight, wearing an emerald-blue designer dress that flatters my plus-size figure. It clings to my generous boobs, skimming my waist and landing in silky folds just above my knees.
My long, blond hair falls in a silky curtain halfway down my back, and my makeup is on point. For once, not only do I look sexy, I feel sexy too. And all my efforts are for one man.
A man who's barely given me the time of day in recent months. Something shifted between us that night—the night he passed by my bedroom door on my eighteenth birthday and saw me in my just underwear.
He hesitated in the doorway, but instead of trying to cover myself up, I turned to face him, letting him see me. His eyes narrowed possessively, raking down my body, taking in his fill. That look set every nerve ending in my body on fire, and I found myself arching my body slightly, tempting him. I knew it was wrong, but at that moment, it felt so right.
Things haven't been the same between us since.
Two weeks later, I was off to an exclusive college a thousand miles away. I've only seen Ashton a handful of times since the night of my eighteenth birthday, and each time he's seemed more remote.
College was tough, and studying for my Associate Nursing degree kept me busy. It was also a world away from the small town I grew up in, protected and sheltered by my parents. I was shy and a little geeky, but I came into my own at college.
I started buying clothes that flattered my full figure and put myself out there socially. I was finally becoming familiar with who I was outside the confines of my upbringing.
Some boys showed interest once I improved my image a little. It was flattering to have some male attention for the first time in my life, but pleasant as those boys were, I couldn't help but think of them as just that—boys.
I dated one guy, Brent, my best friend Clara’s brother, but it didn't last long. There was no way I could be intimate with him. Not his fault—he just wasn't Ashton.
"She's not my little girl anymore. She's a grown woman ready to take the world by storm," Mom is saying, her loving gaze settling on me. "I just wish your father were here to see you now, honey. He'd be so proud, just as I am." Her voice breaks, and she dabs at her eyes. She raises her glass of champagne. "To Ivy!"
"To Ivy!" the guests chant in unison, raising their glasses and bottles of beer.
My eyes slide to Ashton as if drawn there by an invisible thread, and my stomach flips as I find his intense gaze fixed on me. Just the sight of him makes me tingle all over. He raises his glass slightly in a toast, a smile tugging up one corner of his mouth.
He's far too hot for his own good. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, muscular thighs. He was my dad's best friend, and after his sudden death from a heart attack five years ago, Ashton swooped in and took care of everything. I don't know what Mom and I would've done without him.
I think maybe that's when I began to notice him as a man in his own right rather than as Dad's best friend. But I'm twenty-one to his thirty-nine. It makes no difference to me, but I'm sure it's a deal-breaker for him. After all, I'm still the daughter of his best friend, even if Dad is no longer with us.
But I'm fooling myself, thinking that someone like me can capture the attention of a man like him. He still thinks of me as a child, not the woman who's been half in love with him since I was sixteen. He's behind every one of my fantasies. His face is the one I picture when I touch myself alone in my bed at night, and it's his name that spills from my lips as I get myself off.
I may wish things were different, but I know that I'm off-limits in every conceivable way as far as Ashton Stanbrook is concerned.