Page 95 of Be Your Forever
“Nah, I’m cool with being the boss.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“Are…Are you okay? You don’t seem as excited—”
“Bri, I’m good. I can’t wait to see your dream come to fruition.”
I want to push, but something in his tone tells me to hold off.
“Thanks, Maxie. I’m glad it’s finally happening and that we can do this together.”
Max and I are practically glued to each other's side for hours as we animatedly talk about the plans for the bookstore. Emotional exhaustion from our reunion is threatening to pull me under, so I say my goodbyes while I cling to him like a koala to a eucalyptus tree. I breathe in his cedar scent, and I’m reminded of all the times I ran to him for solace after a boy broke my heart—or I got a bad grade on a test I studied for. His arms were my safety net, and now that I’ve moved past my guilt, I’ll never go too long without a hug from my best friend, my brother. We make plans for the following weekend before I’m out the door. When I walk out, Asher is standing there, flowers in one hand and an iced coffee in the other.
“I really might have to open that greenhouse now,” I say as I walk toward him.
“Then we’ll build you the best greenhouse there is, because I don’t plan on stopping with the flowers. How did it go?”
“Good, very good. My heart feels full and happy. But I noticed Max was weird with me when I asked him about helping build our store. He looked excited, but something felt off. I get this feeling he’s hiding behind his desk. Did he say anything to you?”
“Yeah, I think he’s struggling with some shit. I suggested therapy, and I think he’ll do it when he’s ready. We just gotta give him time, bear.” The empathy that radiates from this man is truly awe-inspiring. He genuinely doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. Well, except for when people are assholes to those he loves—then the gloves come off. Asher is sweet, kind, patient, and boy does he know what to do with that mouth of his. Despite the way he makes me feel physically, emotionally and mentally I know I’m safe with him. I always have been.
I lean in and press a quick peck on his lips. “I love you, Asher Larson. I hope you know just how much you mean to me.”
“I love you, too, Bri bear. Always have, always will. You’ve had a long day. Let's go home and take a nice, long bath before you take a much deserved nap.” Asher hands me the coffee and flowers before opening my door. As we drive home, I listen to my heart put the final missing piece back together.
Asher
Don’t you think it’s a little too early for a beer?
GageandIhavebeen interviewing for my replacement for weeks, but no one fits. With Bri and I going into business together, it’ll be difficult to work both jobs. I plan to remain a silent partner, helping when absolutely necessary. Gage will be taking over all my previous duties. The bar has been closed since we’ve gotten back to back interviews, and we are nowhere near close to finding someone. Case in point, the curvy blonde in front of us with the world's lowest cut shirt possible and a nauseating amount of perfume on. It’s clear she doesn’t want to actually work by how hard she’s eye fucking Gage right now.
“We have a few more candidates to interview before we make our decision. Thank you for taking time out of your day, we’ll be in touch.” I shake the woman’s hand, ignoring the lingering looks she’s giving me. She swings her hips with dramatic flair when she walks out the door.
“Thoughts?” I ask, turning to my business partner and future owner of Aces.
“No.” One simple word, but it’s very on brand for Gage.
“I need a break, let me know when the next candidate arrives. I’m headed to the back.” I need a moment. This endless interviewing has been exhausting.I’m shuffling papers around when I hear a high pitched voice interacting with Gage.
Curiosity gets the better of me, so I quietly open the door and watch for as long as I can before I’m spotted.
“What can I do ya for?” Gage is leaned over the counter, fully engaged in the conversation with a smile on his face.
“I would like one beer, please.” The voice has to belong to a girl no more than five or six years old.
“Beer, huh? It’s only eleven a.m. Don’t you think it’s a little too early for a beer?” This is a new side to Gage. He’s soft and playful with this little girl.
“Nope. My mama lets me drink beer all the time.” The girl wiggles in her seat, her grin showing she’s missing one of her bottom teeth. Her blonde, curly hair is in two pigtails, and she’s wearing a long sleeve, white shirt under a maroon, velvet dress. She has whiskey brown eyes and freckles scattered across her nose.
“Mama lets ya drink, huh?”
“Yup. And she gives me suckers and candy. My mama is the best.” Gage throws his head back and lets out a loud laugh. Moments later, a woman with long, blond hair with the same whiskey brown eyes and dressed in a brown, cropped sweater and dark jeans with suede boots rushes into the bar. She’s a subtle sort of pretty, and the little girl on the bar stool is her spitting image. That must make her the mother.
“Cora Rose, what did I tell you about running off?” She has her hands on her hips, but her eyes scream fear.
“I’m sorry, Mama. You were talking to that lady, and I was thirsty for beer.”
“Your daughter has been asking me for a beer for the last five minutes.” Gage’s expression completely changes. His shoulders are tense. I watch him analyze the woman with weariness and another emotion I can’t pinpoint. And just like that, a mask of indifference slips over Gage’s features as he busies himself with cleaning the already spotless bar top.
“Oh, yeah, the girl loves her root beer,” she addresses Gage before turning to Cora. “Sweet baby girl, you scared your mama. I know you wanted something to drink, but running off is scary. Something could have happened to you, and I need to keep you safe. Do you understand?”
