Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
His eyes hold mine for a long, quiet moment, warmth radiating between us. “I want that too.”
My pulse skips happily. “Then let’s make it happen. Denver. Your business. Our home.”
He tilts his head, eyes narrowing playfully. “Are you always this persuasive?”
I lift an eyebrow, grinning widely. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“God help me,” he repeats, chuckling. “What am I getting myself into?”
“A lifetime of fun,” I reply softly, suddenly serious again. “And happiness.”
He rises from the stool, crossing the small distance to join me at the stove. He gently turns me to face him, framing my face between his palms. “I’m in, Charlotte. Completely. We’ll figure out the details. But for now… let’s just enjoy tonight.”
I melt into his touch, lifting onto my toes to kiss him softly. “Tonight sounds perfect.”
He brushes his lips over mine gently, then steps back slightly, grinning. “Now, what can I do to help?”
I point him toward the salad ingredients on the counter. “You can start chopping.”
He salutes me playfully, grabbing a knife and making quick work of the vegetables. We fall into an easy rhythm, laughter mixing with the comforting sounds of sizzling chicken and rustling salad greens. It feels like we’ve done this a thousand times before—like we belong here, together, cooking dinner in our own little haven.
Later, as we sit at the small wooden dining table, our plates nearly empty, candles flickering warmly, I reach across the table and take his hand. “Asher?”
He squeezes my fingers gently. “Yeah?”
“Do you really think this is possible? Building a life together? Away from all the drama?”
His thumb strokes softly over my knuckles, his gaze tender and unwavering. “Charlotte, it’s not only possible—it’s inevitable. After everything we’ve faced, I refuse to let anything keep us from being happy. You and me—we’re going to make this work. Wade and the chaos can’t touch what we have.”
A deep, reassuring warmth spreads through my chest. I lean in, smiling softly. “You really believe that?”
He nods, sincerity radiating from his every word. “With everything I have.”
“Then I believe it too,” I whisper, happiness swelling in my heart. “No matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”
He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to my knuckles. “Together.”
In that quiet, perfect moment, surrounded by candlelight and the promise of our future, I realize that for the first time in my life, I am truly home.
32
Asher
The closing credits of whatever rom-com we claimed we’d “really watch this time” roll unnoticed across the TV while Charlotte drapes her legs over my lap, head resting against my shoulder. The room is lit only by the faint turquoise glow of the aquarium-screen-saver and a single floor lamp in the corner—just enough light to silver the curve of her cheek and the fall of her hair.
She tilts her face toward mine, eyes half-lidded. “Guess we missed the ending,” she teases, voice a lazy purr.
“Plot twist: they lived happily ever after,” I murmur, brushing my knuckles along her jaw. Her skin is still warm from dinner and the Rioja wine, and the scent of vanilla lotion lingers in the air between us.
I lean in, pressing a feather-light kiss to the corner of her mouth. Charlotte’s lips curve beneath mine. I shift, one hand sliding behind her neck, thumb tracing the pulse there while my other hand smooths up her thigh over the soft knit joggers she favors on stay-in nights.
She angles closer, lips capturing mine with a sudden, hungry certainty. The kiss deepens—softer, then urgent. Heat sparks along my spine as her fingers tunnel into my hair, nails grazing just enough to make my breath come faster. I taste the faint echo of wine as she parts her lips, welcoming me in.
The world telescopes to the sofa’s cushions, her heartbeat drumming against my palm, the hush of slow inhales and matching exhales. I shift so we’re chest to chest, coaxing her gently onto her back while I hover above. The couch cushions dip under our combined weight; a throw blanket puddles to the floor. My secure perimeter shrinks to the precise outline of her silhouette under me.
She sighs into my mouth, hands sliding under the hem of my T-shirt, fingertips coasting over my ribs. Each touch sparks along nerve endings mapped in daydreams. I brace one forearm beside her head, the other hand exploring the curve of her waist, up to where soft cotton meets warm skin above the jogger’s waistband.
Charlotte breaks the kiss but keeps me close, forehead to mine, breath mingling. “If this is the happily-ever-after twist,” she whispers, “I like it.”
I answer by kissing the hollow beneath her ear, letting my lips linger just enough to draw a shiver. She loops her arms around my shoulders, arching slightly. My lips travel along her jaw, peppering soft, unhurried kisses. She threads her fingers through my hair, nails scraping lightly at the nape of my neck.