Eliana came around his desk and stood between his legs to give him a hug. He rested his head against her chest, barely hearing her heartbeat over the sound of the blood rushing through his ears.
Her hand ran a steady rhythm at the back of his head, and he breathed her in. He shouldn’t let himself feel this way. Eliana was just one more person for him to lose. But at this point, it was too late. It was going to hurt whether or not he leaned into this, and being with Eliana made every risk seem worth it.
Her fingers scratched at the back of his neck, and he was nearly undone. “Eliana,” he said, his voice gravelly. Begging. For what? Space? No space at all?
Then so slowly she could pull away at any moment, he tugged her into his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck like they were always meant to be there. The tug between them was unstoppable, and she must have felt it as strongly as he did as she stared into his eyes.
“So intensely green,” she murmured, and he recalled their first conversation. They’d come so far since then. “There’s no way people can focus on speech therapy when you look at them like this.”
“I don’t look at anyone else like this.”
“Lucky me.” Her eyelids fluttered shut, and her soft lips pressed against his. That was all it took for him. He wrapped his arms even tighter around her waist and kissed her back. All the problems dragging him down like an insurmountable riptide released him with one touch, one breath.
Kissing Eliana was better than he’d ever imagined, and yet somehow as earth shattering as he thought it might be. Fire raced through his veins as she dug her fingers into his hair and deepened their kiss, just as drawn in by him as he was by her. That would never cease to amaze him.
She pulled away slowly but kept her forehead pressed to Asher’s as they both breathed hard.
He threaded his fingers through hers and brought them to his lips to kiss every knuckle and then her palm. She gave a short intake of breath as he gently bit the tip of her thumb.
They sat, suspended in that moment, until she scrambled off of his lap and several feet away. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her cheeks were even pinker than they’d been when she’d arrived.
She straightened out her shirt and put a hand to her hair, which was mussed from him running his fingers through it. Her lips were slightly swollen and raw from kissing. She licked them, and he nearly groaned.
“Well, that was … good practice. For the pretending to pretend thing. For the wedding. Good kissing practice.” Her hand went to her mouth, maybe to feel her lips, maybe to stop herself from rambling.
He leaned back in his chair, satisfied to realize he could throw her off just as easily as she could him.
She continued to talk as she gathered her things. “The fake, fake pretend stuff, you know. Kissing, holding hands, all that. To make Grandma happy and keep my family from trying to set me up, though I don’t think they’d do that—other than Grandma, of course, who is like a matchmaking wrecking ball.” She pantomimed a wrecking ball smashing into a building.
He bit back his smile as she put his half-eaten sandwich into the tote with the Rolodex, followed by her sticky rice crispy treat. She hopped to her feet and headed toward the door. “Okay, then. I’m leaving. You’re busy and—”
“Elly.” She turned to him with an expression that was trying so hard to go for nonchalance. “You’re forgetting something.”
“Hm?”
He came around his desk carrying Louisa May Alcott in her container. She must be really in her head to almost leave her turtle behind.
“Oh. Thank you.” She reached out to take it.
Asher held on to his end of the container and leaned forward close enough to breathe her in. “Eliana? I’m not pretending.”
Her eyes widened. He let go of Louisa May Alcott’s container as she tugged, and then she swiveled around and fled from the room.
Chapter 25
CouldpeoplefromWinnie’spastpleasestop coming to Diamond Cove?
Retirement was supposed to be easy. Relaxing. Not filled with rivals and ex-husbands and romantic posts going viral and granddaughters writing books convincing people to stay single.
She needed one thing in her life to go right. Just one.
As if her thoughts had tempted fate, the bridesmaid dress she’d been running through the sewing machine snagged, and an entire thread bunched up under the runner, running down the length of the fabric and ruining it. That’s it. That was the last straw. She was going to die right then or …
She stood and released a chest-deep scream. The kind of scream she might let out if a murderer was in her master closet, one that made her throat hurt and would give Horace a heart attackifhe was actually home to hear it. The sound died out.
Whoa. That felt good.
So she did it again. And again, until her voice gave way and her head swam with dizziness. Why hadn’t anyone told her that screaming could be so amazing? Free therapy. And people were hoarding this secret? She’d spent so much of her life being quiet, sitting back, playing nice, not saying anything—and it felt amazing to actually hear her voice for once.
