Page 96 of From Asher, With Love

Selene: She should be up by now.

Julianna: Charleigh.

Julianna: Charleigh!

Julianna: Wake up, love! It’s a big day!

Me: I’m up! LOL But it wasn’t the messages that woke me.

Selene: Good morning, Charleigh!

Julianna: Yay! To catch you up, London is now in our group chats. We just have to work on getting her to move here.

Selene: Don’t bother trying, Jules. I’ve tried, and she won’t leave her husband. He refuses to trade Boston for New York.

Julianna: What?! Why????

Selene: Beats me.

London: Same here. I’ve talked to him, but he refuses. It’s strange considering he went to college there and his family has history there, too.

Julianna: Well, boo. Does that mean you’re still coming to Charleigh’s grand opening, though?

Me: I’d love it if you were able to make it, London. If not, Iunderstand.

London: Absolutely!

Me: Good!

Selene: Hey, Jules…

Julianna: What?

Selene: You or your brother don’t happen to plan on inviting a certain someone with the same name as a city in Italy, do you?

Me: Yeah, we all saw how that turned out last time.

Julianna: Hell, no. In fact, Hell will freeze over before I’d ever invite that man anywhere. Plus, my brother won’t be making that mistake again unless he wants to find his body buried beneath six feet of dirt in one of those cemeteries along the Hudson.

Me: Lol, I’ll see you guys later at the new shop. I’m excited to get started on the planning. Love you three!

I shut the screen off and drop my cell on the nightstand, eager to find Asher. I know he’s still home because I hear movement coming from downstairs, as well as the scent of fresh coffee lingering in the air.

I slip into his favorite gray T-shirt and head down the stairs. The cool air pricks my bare legs, goosebumps spreading across my skin.

When I make it to the bottom step, I see Asher in the kitchen. He’s dressed in his black slacks. His sculpted abs are visible thanks to his unbuttoned, white-collared shirt. I haven’t seen him in a suit since before we left for California. Funnilyenough, it’s an odd sight, like seeing two different versions of Asher. Both ones I love equally.

“Good morning, Little Flower.” He grins behind his mug, the steam lifting from his coffee before he presses it to his mouth.

I run my fingers through my tangled hair and wrap my arms around his waist, looking up at him. “Good morning.”

His eyes roam over my face. “You look beautiful this morning.”

I giggle and stand on my toes. “I doubt it, but I appreciate it, anyway.”

Pressing my lips to his, I lean into him, moaning. We’ve gone through enough pain to last a lifetime, but life with Asher is beautiful now. I could get used to this.

I pull back from him, and he places his mug on the kitchen island. His fingers graze my cheek when he tucks my hair behind my ear.

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