I nervously suck in a breath because the flash of the curtain in the front window tells me my parents already know we’re here. I move to unbuckle my seatbelt, but Asher stops me, taking my hand in his own, his presence as ominous and commanding as ever.
“You and me here. Yeah?” He squeezes lightly.
I nod and swallow down my anxiety. “Yeah.”
God, I fucking hope so.
“What a nice surprise,” my mother says with a happy, yet clearly confused, tone as she opens the door to me with Asher.
“Nice to see you again, Chief Reed,” my father says, extending his hand for shaking.
Asher takes it and pumps it firmly. “Please call me Asher. It’s good to see you too, sir. This time in better circumstances.”
“Now, that is true.” My father chuckles. His white hair is shorter than when I last saw him and I know my mother made him get a haircut, which means she also had no idea what to expect when I said I was bringing someone.
“These are for you, Mrs. Sutton.” Asher’s voice is low and full of gravel as he hands my mom a beautiful bunch of lavender and wildflowers from the fields at his house.
“Lynn and Ken, please,” she insists. “And thank you. These are gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Asher tells her. “They’re from the fields that surround my home.”
His affluent, albeit horrendous, upbringing is front and center of my mind as he speaks. It’s obvious that he knows how to turn on the charm—despite his usual brooding manner—and I find myself wanting to unravel the mystery that is Asher Reed even more.
“Oh, even more lovely,” my mom says, disappearing into the house for a moment to put the flowers in water.
An awkward moment of silence hangs between us when my mom returns, and my parents look at me. They have no idea why Laurel Creek’s fire chief is in their foyer.
“Okay, well, now that we’re all on a first-name basis,” I say nervously, turning to set the cupcakes on the entry table. In my haste, my heel catches on the rug and I almost fall. Panic hits my chest as Asher’s strong arms steady me and I manage to keep my cupcakes upright. No one says anything as I blow my hair out of my face and look up to the ceiling.
“You have no idea how often I have to do that,” Asher jokes, and my parents laugh.
“I had stocks in Band-Aid Corporation while Olivia was growing up,” my mom adds, taking the container of treats from me. Everyone chuckles as I blush pink.
“Glad my clumsiness could help break the ice.” I shrug. Maybe Asher’s right and I do need that bubble wrap after all?
“Well, on that note, let me just pop these here.” She sets the cupcakes down on the table that I had been aiming for. “We can have them for dessert. Shall we go?”
My mom tucks her arm into mine, leaving Asher with my father as we head down the driveway. I glance back over my shoulder at him and he winks in reassurance. I hope he’s ready for Lynn and Ken.
Dolcetto’s Ristorante is bustling—just as one would expect for a balmy summer night—as we’re seated on the patio shaded from the last of the day’s sun. On the way here, Asher spoke to my father about the custom cherry banister and staircase in our family home. The woodworking in my parents’ house is my dad’s pride and joy, so it doesn’t surprise me that they’re already off to a good conversational start by the time we take our seats. My dad suggests that he and Asher head up to the massive bar area in the restaurant to view the craft beer on offer.
I look around in a bid to settle my nerves; I already felt the nosey eyes of at least two people I went to high school with when I entered the building with Chief Asher Reed.
“He’s hunky,” my mom says with a little shimmy when we’re alone.
“Mother.” I laugh.
“Well, he is. I never had a thing for tattoos, but I must say—”
“The food smells so good in here, doesn’t it?” I interject to keep my mother from reminding me how hot the man is. I definitely don’t needthatreminder. She laughs as I survey the space again. It’s a really pretty setting; most of the walls boast rustic exposed brick, and twinkling string lights decorate thecharming patio we’re sitting on. Dolcetto’s is Laurel Creek’s number one first-date spot.
“I wish you would’ve told me this was the official ‘meet the parents’ dinner.” My mother winks at me before she picks up the menu. “I would’ve been more prepared.”
My father’s deep guffaw from the bar makes us both pause, and with it a low chuckle from Asher. I watch him for a moment. The smile he wears as he chats to my dad like they’re old friends is something I wouldn’t have been able to dream up a few months ago. I have to remind myself this is Asher. The man I’ve felt drawn to, but have also been slightly afraid of, for over two years.
Turning back to my mom, I want to correct her and say this isn’t a “meet the parents” dinner. But for fear of getting into a “what the hell is he doing here then” conversation before I’m ready, I decide not to say anything as my father heads back over to us, leaving Asher at the bar. I take the opportunity to sneak a glance at him. He’s looking down at his phone, silencing it with a grimace, and I wonder briefly who could make him look even more irritated than normal.
“I’ll just grab our drinks at the bar, Lynnie,” my dad says now, leaning down to kiss my mom’s cheek. “We can get the next ones with dinner.”
