Page 33 of From Asher, With Love

I’ve been standing in my office, staring at the city below, waiting for her. She’s nearly an hour late. I arrived at work an hour early, searching for properties within Charleigh’s budget. Most of them held great potential, but there was one that stood out above the rest. It isn’t too far from the part of the city I work in—only about ten blocks from my office. I want to show her that place first, knowing it’s the best shot I have at convincing her to buy with me over Cyrus.

But my confidence is dwindling more with every second that passes.

I walk over to the phone resting on my desk and press the intercom button with a firm finger. “Has Ms. Keeler arrived yet?”

“No, sir,” Janette replies quickly. “But, wait?—”

I cut Janette off. I place my hands on my hips and turn to look back out the window. “Fuck.”

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m a little late.”

I whip my head toward the front of my office. Charleigh’s standing in the doorway, with a coffee perched in each of her hands.

I narrow my eyes and firmly press my lips together. My teeth are already grinding. “You’re nearly an hour late.”

She raises her shoulders innocently, then flashes me a smile. Her dark hair is full and curled, framing her gorgeous face. She sweeps her tongue across her pale-pink-painted lips. Her chest quickly rises and falls with every breath, her breasts pushing against the buttons holding her floral blouse shut. Her black skirt hugs her full, round hips, accentuating every single fucking curve.

Shit.How can one woman be so insanely beautiful yet so nerve racking at the same time?

“I grabbed you a coffee.” She crosses my office and holds her arm out, offering it to me.

I reluctantly take it and keep my narrowed eyes focused on her, ignoring the twitch of my dick.

“How did you know how I take my coffee?” The last time Charleigh and I were together, we never drank coffee. Charleigh was the only one who did since her father owned the most expensive espresso machine on the market. My mother traded hers for vodka, and for me, it was a luxury I couldn’t afford.

“I didn’t.” She chuckles against the lid. “I ordered yours the same way I order mine.”

I take a sip, wincing at how sweet it is.

“What is this?” I ask, scrunching my nose and setting it down on my desk. “Pure sugar with a dash of coffee?”

“No.” She steps closer. The scent of flowers and vanilla immediately surrounds me. “It’s called a vanilla latte. It’s pretty standard.”

I close my mouth, trying not to let her closeness affect me. We’re standing almost toe to toe. I wonder if she even notices herself breaking her own boundary. Maybe it comes naturally to her without her realizing it.

I bite the inside of my cheek, tempted to lean forward and press my lips to hers. Her flowery scent draws me in. My body and mind remember exactly what she feels and tastes like, and they crave it all again. Like a drug I quit years ago, the mind remembers the high it got from knowing I’d been the only one to touch her back then. She was mine and only mine.

I clear my throat and shut off my computer before grabbing my suit jacket from the back of my chair.

“Come on.” I head toward the door of my office, carrying my sickeningly-sweet coffee with me, leaving her behind.

Charleigh’s heels click across the hardwood flooras she struggles to keep up with my pace. I can’t help it. It’s as if my mind is telling my feet to keep a distance from her. If I’m not careful, I might allow myself to make a move I’ll regret later.

Charleigh isn’t a woman I can get mixed up with again. Not like the women I fucked in college or the brief moment in time when I slightly considered fucking Janette.

No. Charleigh is different, and I need to watch myself carefully.

“Asher,” she says behind me. “You’re walking awfully fast.”

She eventually catches up to me when I reach the elevator. I toss the coffee in the bin bolted to the wall and press the call button, glancing over my shoulder. “I have to make up for lost time since you were an hour late.”

“I was trying to do a nice thing and bring you coffee.” From the corner of my eye, I feel her stare pinning me with daggers. “I can’t help it if it took a little longer than usual. It also took me a while to hail a cab.”

I turn to face her.

“You’ve lived here for ten years, and this is New York City. You should have expected it.” My mouth is catching all the irritation in my brain and running away with it.

“Not everyone has a driver waiting for them at their every beck and call,” she fires back. “Not all of us are drowning in copious amounts of money.”

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