Spin class wasn’t an issue. That man’s legs were built forendurance. It was only after class that he admitted that he’s participated in a few triathlons in the past.
By the time Monday rolls around, our legs are a shaking mess—from spin and, well…
I receive the ultimate pillow princess treatment when Asher wakes me up with a little clit and coffee combo. Though not at the same time. Safety first and all that.
It takes everything in me to roll out of bed after that, but no matter how hard Asher tries to play it cool and act unaffected, he’s chomping at the bit to get home to his daughter.
So I quickly reload my weekender bag and his while he’s in the shower.
“What’s going on?” he asks when he comes out and finds our bags lined up at the door.
“We should get out of here soon if we want to beat traffic. Plus, I bet Dolly is really missing you.”
“You mean she’s missingyou.”
With one shoulder, I shrug easily. “I guess I miss that little goober too.”
He smiles with a beloved sort of pride and kisses me on the forehead. “Thank you.”
The roads are clear the whole way, and the second we pull up in front of the cabin, Bea darts out of the house and flies down the steps. She’s banging on the driver’s side door before Asher has even turned off the engine.
He picks her up, and she tightly wraps her arms around his neck. When he finally sets her down, she asks, “Where are my cookies?”
His pretty face takes on a horrified expression.
“They’re in the back, Dolly,” I announce, opening the trunk.
She abandons her father for the box of six giant Levain cookies I hold out to her. Her hazel eyes are the brightest I’ve everseen as she clings to the package like it’s her favorite stuffed animal.
“What do you say to Claire?” Asher shouts as she runs toward the house.
“Love you, Claire,” she squeaks, the screen door slamming behind her.
My heart stumbles over itself. While Asher was prompting her to saythank you, the words that burst out of her mean so much more.
Asher slings his bag over his back and takes mine too. “You saved the day, you know that?”
“It was nothing.” With a shrug, I shut the trunk. “Delivery apps confirm I was born in the right era.”
The cookies arrived when he was in the shower this morning, and I hid them at the bottom of my bag so I wouldn’t be tempted to devour them on the car ride home.
After a glance at the house, he quickly kisses my forehead. “It wasn’t nothing.”
Once inside, Asher drops our bags by the laundry room, and I throw in a load. Bea gives him a run-down of every single thing she did with Grandma and Grandpa over the weekend.
I unpack the rest of my things, then screw around on social media, liking and commenting on photos from Millie and Ezra’s big day. I shoot off several pictures from my collection to Ezra, and he shares a few in return.
When I get to one of Asher and me, my heart thuds against my breastbone. My eyes are closed, and I have a champagne flute poised at my lips. He’s peering down at me, a subtle smirk on his face. To anyone else, the photo looks perfectly innocent. But Asher’s hand is in his pocket, and I know exactly what he was holding on to that night and why my legs are crossed.
When I switch over the laundry, I discover the dryer sheets have gone missing. I survey the shelves, and as I’m standing onmy tiptoes to search the highest one, I come across a small stack of padded inserts. My bikini padded inserts, to be exact.
What the fuck?
“Ash? Can you come here a sec?”
He tells Bea he’ll be right back, and a few seconds later, he’s in the doorway. When he spots what I’m holding, he goes ramrod straight.
“Care to explain, Greer?”
