by Lisa De Jong
I try to pull my hand from Asher’s, but he’s got a good grip. “I should probably get back to work.”
“I need to head into the city today. I won’t be back until later.”
“What’s in the city?” I ask.
“Just some things I have to take care of,” he replies, rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand before finally releasing me. I felt so sure about where our relationship was going yesterday, but uncertainty is all that hangs between us right now. It seems like he’s pulling away from me.
“So will I see you soon?” I ask, shoving my hands in the pockets on the front of my apron.
“I hope so,” he answers, tilting his head to one side. “By the way, can I get a stack of these napkins?” He grabs the napkin he mutilated off the table and hands it to me. I have this weird feeling in my stomach that I may not see him again, and it’s eating me up.
“Is something else bothering you?”
“Nothing you need to worry about right now,” he replies, resting his palm against my cheek. I want him to open up to me. I want him to need me the way I need him.
I draw in a deep breath and wrap my fingers around his wrist to pull his hand from my cheek, “Asher-”
“Not now,” he says, leaning in closer to me. His expression is more relaxed, but uneasiness still rips through me like a tidal wave. I would give anything to know what’s going through Asher’s head right now. What if I blew my chance to be with him too? Maybe he’s decided that I’m not worth the trouble. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer that it’s the latter.
I hear someone clear their throat beside me and turn to see my mom standing at my side, nodding toward my waiting table. “Kate.”
“I’m going,” I snap, standing in front of her. “Can you get Asher some napkins, please?” Asher’s hand brushes the back of mine as I walk past him, sending a warm jolt up my arm. I look back to see his cheeks dimple, a sign that maybe everything will be all right. I need more than a sign right now, though. I need a promise because once I give my heart to someone; I don’t ever want it back.
I toss the torn napkin in the garbage and quickly walk over to my table.
****
When I leave work, I’m still upset about the way Asher was acting when he came in earlier. Is he concerned about my relationship with Beau? Did I do something else to irritate him? I just wish I knew because I hate this living in limbo thing.
As I get closer to my car, I see something white under my windshield wiper. People are always leaving notes about babysitting and lawn services on my car. It annoys me because they end up sitting on the floorboard until it’s time for my semi-annual cleaning. When I pull the wiper up and grab the paper between my fingers, I realize it’s a napkin with Asher’s handwriting in the center.
Be at the lake house by 7 tonight. Wear something warm.
****
I suddenly feel completely awake after my tiring day because I’ll be seeing Asher in just a few hours. I think that’s the key to living a fulfilled life; having a reason or purpose. I have that now, and I’m going to hold onto him for as long as I can.
I throw my phone on the bed and pull on my favorite blue jeans and a long-sleeve white t-shirt. I layer a second t-shirt and then pick a thick navy blue cowl neck sweater from my closet and pull my caramel colored pea coat over it.
As I pull into Asher’s driveway just a few minutes later, I’m greeted with the smell of burning wood. I used to think it was one of the best smells on earth, right behind fresh baked bread and turkey on Thanksgiving, but the way the last bonfire turned out, I haven’t been able to stomach it ever since.
I climb out of my car and head to the backyard to see if I can find Asher. I don’t have to wait long because he’s sitting in front of a small campfire, using a large stick to move some logs around. The light from the flame illuminates his face, making it obvious the moment he notices me approaching. “Hey, how long have you been standing there?” he asks, showing me his genuine Asher Hunt smile.
“I just got here.” I tuck my hands into the front pockets of my jeans and move closer to the fire. It burns bright orange, and the smell of the burnt wood is overwhelming. It reminds me of the moment Drew sat next to me. But I keep telling myself that Asher is here, and he’s nothing like Drew. I shouldn’t have to fear doing things like this, and if I can take my first step toward ridding myself of that fear with someone like Asher, I need to seize the opportunity.
He places the stick on the ground and strolls toward me, encircling me with his arms. The light of the fire glows in his eyes as he kisses me softly on the lips while he slowly works to release the tension from my body. It’s something I miss as soon as his lips leave mine.
“What’s all this?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I want to rewrite another memory for you,” he whispers against my ear, “I thought we could sit by the fire and maybe roast s’mores.”
“Seriously?” I ask. This is literally one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me. There must be a manual on how to make Kate Alexander come to life again because Asher never misses a step with me.
“Fuck, I’m freaking you out, aren’t I? I thought it would help, like when we went fishing and it started to rain,” he says, running the pads of his thumbs across my cheekbones, “You’ve been a different person since then, and I wanted to bring a little more of that out of you.”
“I’m just shocked, that’s all.” I tilt my head to look up at the night sky and take a deep breath. For the past two years, I’ve been hiding behind a mask so that no one will recognize all the painful things that are going on inside me. Now, it’s time to take the mask off and figure out who I am after riding life’s crazy roller coaster. I can’t let the one thing I didn’t have any control over ruin me forever.
Grabbing my chin between his fingers, he pulls my lips to his, tasting them a little longer this time. When he’s done, the taste of mint still lingers, making me crave him all over again.
“I have a blanket set up over there if you want to get comfortable.” He points to a red blanket sitting on top of a patch of grass. There’s a basket in the middle with marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate and a black thermos. He really thought of everything.
This moment is perfect.
“How do you always seem to know what I need before I even know?” I ask, resting my cheek on his muscular chest.
“I just know,” he says, pulling his arms tighter around me. “I like making you smile. And, if I can get you out of your comfort zone every once and awhile, that’s just an added bonus.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?” I whisper before leaning up to kiss his chin.
“If anyone else said it to me, I wouldn’t believe it. It’s different when you say it.” He brushes a piece of hair from my forehead and releases me. For the first time, I feel the frigid October air against my cheeks; cuddling close on the blanket sounds really good right now.
Once we’re seated on the soft fleece blanket, Asher takes out two metal sticks and places marshmallows on them. “You want to do one?” he asks, handing one to me. I hold it over the fire, letting it puff up to get that burnt layer I love so much.
“I haven’t had these since I was a kid,” I admit, holding it close to my mouth to blow out a small flame.
“Me either.” He hands me a graham cracker with two chocolate squares on top. I squeeze my marshmallow between that and another cracker, feeling the gooey goodness on my fingers.
“How did it go in the city?” I ask curiously.
He shrugs, tearing his eyes away from mine. “It wasn’t what I hoped for, but I’ll figure it out.”
“I think you should go back to school,” I blurt. “I mean, don’t you get bored around here?”
“Carrington isn’t that bad,” he answers, solemnly.
“Asher—”
“Did I tell you I have one more surprise?” He reaches to pick up a wooden guitar that I hadn’t noticed s
itting to the side of the blanket. I’m annoyed that he changed the subject on me, but I’m intrigued enough by the guitar to forget about it for a few minutes.
“You play?”
“I can play a little.” He smiles, shyly. Asher is usually anything but nervous . . . it’s nice to see him a little off balance. He crosses his legs and places the guitar in his lap. “I’ve been practicing this, but don’t throw anything at me if it’s not perfect. It’s by The Calling; I slowed it down some, and made it more of an acoustic song.”
I wrap my arms around my knees and wait patiently for him to begin. He rests his thumb above the strings, closing his eyes as the first note hits the night air and echoes into my ears. His fingers create a beautiful melody as I let the sound submerge me like rushing water.
When his voice blends with the bass of the guitar, it becomes a magical experience. He shifts his attention between me and the hand that rests under the guitar strings, never missing a note. I keep my eyes fixed on him, watching the flames from the fire reflect in his eyes while letting the husky tone of his voice caress my ears. It’s a song about making the best out of our lives and speaking our minds. I’ve never heard it before, but it’s quickly becoming my new favorite song, and when I close my eyes to hear his voice, I’m quickly everything inside me comes alive.
After playing the last note, I stand and kneel down in front of him, not able to resist the need to touch him in some way. He laid his soul out for me, and now I want to feel the beating heart that created it all. He slowly lifts the guitar strap from his shoulder and places it to the side of the blanket again.
“I need to touch you,” I say, hesitantly lifting my hand to his chest.
“You can touch me, hold me, you can do whatever you want to me,” he breathes, lowering his eyes to my lips. “This night is all about you.”
I cover his heart with my hand, feeling his racing heartbeat. I place my other hand over my own chest and notice mine is beating just as fast, but a force inside propels me forward. I’ve never wanted to taste something as much as I want to taste his lips. I pull his face between my hands, closing the gap between us, covering his mouth with mine. The taste of chocolate and marshmallow lingers, making him taste almost as sweet. I take the initiative and press my tongue between his lips. He doesn’t take any coercing, inviting me in for a sensual game of tug of war.
I wrap my arms around his neck and before I know what I’m doing, he’s on his back with my legs straddling his hips. This is all about control for me. I’m controlling the pace, the movement, and how far we go . . . it’s all up to me. It feels good, freeing really, to let myself take what Asher is giving me. It’s the complete opposite of what I went through at Drew’s.
My lips break from Asher’s, and I move to place light kisses along his cheeks and across his forehead then down his neck. His hands aren’t touching me at all as I explore every exposed bit of skin my lips can access. My whole body floods with warmth, which is a completely new sensation for me. The more I touch him, the more I crave his hands on me. In fact, I don’t think I can wait another minute to feel his hands slide over my skin.
“I think it’s your turn,” I state, placing my hands on either side of his head to hold myself up.
“I don’t want to push you to do anything you’re not ready for,” he says, cradling my neck in his hands.
“Asher, I need this,” I respond, pulling my lower lip between my teeth. “I want this.” It’s my declaration of letting go. I’m ready to move forward with my life.
“Are you sure?” he asks, running his thumbs along my jaw.
“Yes, I want you to kiss me and touch me. Don’t hold back,” I plead, yearning to feel his passion. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”
He pulls my face back down, pressing my lips to his. It feels amazing, but I want to go further. I pull away from his grasp, remove my legs from his hips, and lie on my back next to him. “What are you doing?”
“Lying down,” I answer, feeling my heart beat against my chest. I need to know that I’m capable of doing this with someone. And Asher feels like the one for me.
His eyebrows squeeze together as he slowly turns to his side, pressing his chest against my arm. He rotates a little more, allowing half his body to cover mine. “Are you okay?” he asks, combing his fingers through the hair that’s sprawled on the blanket.
“I will be,” I reply, trying to focus on his touch and not the weight of his body.
He lowers his face, lining his left eye with my right. “Have you ever had a butterfly kiss?” he whispers, gently grabbing my hip.
I shake my head, noticing how his eyes sparkle in the moonlight.
“Well, we’re going to change that right now.” He lowers his head a little more, letting our eyelashes brush against each other. The delicate touch is the most romantic thing I’ve ever felt. He continues with my other eye and repeats the exact same fluttering, causing a giggle to escape my lips.
When he lifts himself up and draws another line between his eyes and my mouth, my lips part, waiting for the fireworks to go off in my stomach. And when there’s no space left between our lips, they begin to explode over and over again. He gives me minutes of pure bliss, letting no part of my face go untouched. As his lips press against the sweet spot right below my ear, his palm runs over my breast. There are at least three layers of clothing between us, but my breath is still too difficult to catch.
I almost feel Drew invading me, but I quickly block him out by keeping my eyes focused on the gentle guy who has given me so much. I want this and Drew isn’t taking anything more from me. I’m not going to let him write the rest of my story . . . he has already taken enough.
We stay like that until our noses are so cold that they have no feeling left in them. He doesn’t move further than a few touches and dozens of warm kisses. He’s successfully rewriting my horrible night.
Asher Hunt is bringing the real Kate back.
Chapter 17
I haven’t seen or talked to Beau in a couple months. They say time heals all wounds and I hope that’s true for us. I miss him but I have hope that one day things will go back to the way they used to be.
Asher says I just need to give him some space, and I hate to admit it but he’s usually right.
Asher has taught me a lot of things.
He has taught me that as long as I’m still breathing, my life isn’t over and that I shouldn’t be so quick to write myself off. I may not have the ability to control everything that happens to me, but I can decide how I react to it. He has taught me that the more risks I take, the less fear I’ll feel over time. If I’m too scared to do anything even remotely out of my comfort zone, I’ll never be able to live life the way it’s meant to be lived.
And he has taught me what love really is.
Love is the most powerful emotion that lives inside us all. And when you have it, it can help diminish all the painful emotions that bury themselves too deep to be seen.
Things are comfortable but exciting between us. He makes me feel protected and secure. He’s breaking down all my walls brick by brick, and the more he takes down, the more I welcome him in.
Tonight he invited me to the lake house, claiming he wanted to cook dinner and watch a movie. A couple months ago, I would have told him no. The mere suggestion that I hang out with him alone in a house would have caused instant panic to take over my whole body.
Things are different now.
My hands grip the steering wheel tightly as I drive toward his house. He said he also had a surprise for me tonight, and I have no idea what it could be. Asher can be very mysterious, so I never quite know what he has up his sleeve.
I pull my old Honda into the driveway behind his car and spot him through the front window, diligently working on something in the kitchen. He’s never cooked for me, so I’ve yet to see if he actually has any skills in the kitchen. It can’t be any worse than mine.
When Asher sees me through the window, he nods before disapp
earing from sight. I take the three steps that lead to the front door, and then lift my hand toward the doorknob, only to have it open before I get the chance. Asher is standing there in a black button down rolled to his elbows and faded blue jeans with a huge smile on his face. I love the way he’s looking at me. Just seeing him smile at me makes my blood pressure skyrocket.
“Hey,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me through the door. As soon as it’s latched, he wraps his arms tightly behind my back and buries his nose in my hair. “You always smell good,” he murmurs.
“It’s just shampoo,” I say, laughing and wrapping my arms around his neck. As soon as he lifts his face from my hair, I use my arms to pull his lips closer to mine. I’ve become addicted to his kisses.
That moment we connect is like a million flash bulbs going off in my head. He exposes every part of me, and I can’t get enough of it. He makes me things I never thought I would. His kiss is always very sweet at first, but I know how hungry he is for me the second he traces my lips. I give it to him because I need it just as badly. There’s nothing about Asher Hunt that I haven’t grown to need.
And when he’s done, he always places one gentler, lingering kiss on my lips before he steps back and looks at me with so much adoration in his eyes that I never want to break the visual contact. He gives me worth and purpose. I know I’m falling in love with him, but I’m afraid, at least until I know he feels the same way.
“Are you ready to eat?” he asks, pulling me toward the kitchen.
“I’m starving,” I reply, following him step for step. The mixture of garlic and cheese hits my nose, making my stomach growl. I worked this morning and didn’t have time to grab any lunch, and when I got home I was too nervous about Asher’s surprise to even think about eating anything.
The kitchen is a small galley type kitchen, but there is a small table with two chairs at the far end. He has set out two plates and wine glasses filled with ice water. I can’t help but smile at the arrangement.