Rogue's Passion(30)

They walked around the side of the cement-block building. Even though Asher was tall, the windows were set too high for him to see inside.
“Boost me up,” she said.
She placed a foot into his threaded fingers and grabbed his shoulder. In one effortless move, he lifted her to the windowsill a few feet above them.
“See?” she called down to him. “Aren’t you glad I accidentally healed you last night? Otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to do that.”
“You meant to heal me, Liv,” he growled.
If he wanted to hang onto that claim because it served his purpose, it was perfectly fine with her. She was more than happy with this little sham.
She grasped the narrow overhang. The window was filthy and the way the sun was angled made it even harder to see inside. Squinting, she could make out a few shapes in the kennels but nothing in great detail.
“Can you see him?” Asher asked.
“The window’s too dirty.” She rubbed the glass to clean off the grime, but it didn’t help, so she told him to bring her down.
The disappointment etched on his face mirrored her own. She looked around for other options, wanting to go the extra mile for something he really cared about. Sure, she could follow him back to the car, where they could wait around for an hour, but it felt better to be doing something about it.
She noticed that one of the other windows was cracked open. “Look,” she said, grabbing his arm and pointing.
A moment later, he was boosting her up again. She tried to angle herself to see through the narrow opening, but this window wasn’t much better. A few of the dogs had either seen or heard her and started to bark.
“Better?” he called from below. “Can you see anything?”
She heard the hope in his voice.
“Uhhh, there’s a standard poodle in the first kennel and…I think there’s a German shepherd in the next one.” She tried to pull the window wider, but the old hinges wouldn’t budge. “Damn. I can’t see him. Conry?” she called. “Are you there, boy?”
She was about to tell Asher to lower her down, when a deep bark, separate from the rest, sounded from inside.
“That’s him!” Asher cried, jostling her legs.
She made a shriek that sounded like a sick duck on steroids and clutched at the windowsill to keep from falling. “Are you sure?” she asked, laughing.
“Yes. Yes.” He whistled and the dog barked again. Asher let out a whoop of excitement and a huge sense of relief rushed through her.
“Hey boy,” she said through the open window. “We’re coming for you soon, okay, so just hang in there.”
The instant Olivia’s feet hit the ground, she did a fist pump and her version of the we’re-going-to-the-World-Games victory dance. Asher copied her with a goofy shake-your-booty dance of his own, then pulled her into his arms and twirled her around.
“Thank the Fates, he’s here,” Asher said, breathlessly, setting her back down. “And it’s all because of you. I wouldn’t have been able to find him without you.”
“Or St. Anthony, depending on how you look at it. Come on,” she said, pulling him toward the car. “I saw a little coffee shop down the street. Let’s hang out there until this place opens.”
He made a face. “I don’t drink coffee.”#p#分页标题#e#
Other than the fact that she and Asher were extremely sexually compatible, she realized how little else she knew about him. And she only had six days to find out more.
“What?” She swept the back of her hand to her forehead and adopted a deep fake-announcer’s voice. “How. Is. That. Possible?” Asher’s happiness was making her giddy and silly.
He chuckled at her dramatic antics. Egged on by his response, she jumped onto his back, piggyback style. Hooking his arms under her knees, he jogged back to the car.
Soon they were sitting in a corner table at Lou’s Coffee Shop, near the windows so that Asher could see out. Olivia was sipping on a double tall caramel macchiato with extra foam (that got an are you kidding me? stare from Asher) and he was drinking a cup of black tea with a splash of milk (to which she’d responded with a you’re so unimaginative roll of her eyes).
Classical music played low in the background, but not loudly enough to drown out the sounds of the espresso machine. Because it was after the early rush, but before the caffeine addicts came in to get a second cup, the place was almost empty. Several college students sat engrossed near the gas fireplace, where one of them, a young man in a wheelchair, was showing them some sort of yarn project he was working on. A woman wearing trendy workout clothes and neon-pink running shoes stood at the counter and flirted with the barista, who was refilling the machine with espresso beans. On the opposite side of the door sat a humorless gray-haired woman who was clearly pissed off at her husband, a bald man with reading glasses low on his bulbous nose. She huffed a few times as she thumbed through one of those freebie papers that advertises garage sales and used cars.