It was a shame she had to go back to Vegas tonight. She was looking forward to another kissing lesson. Though they were officially on week two now, weren't they? Which meant . . . foreplay.
Which got her all distracted again.
When it was time to leave, the women hugged and Gretchen gave Greer a list of notes so she could call the baker and discuss "the cake situation" on Gretchen's behalf. She assured her friend that she would, and tried not to feel guilty that she'd let her father's impromptu wedding usurp her time. Gretchen had said she didn't mind, and Greer was only a phone call away. Didn't make Greer feel better, though.
She shouldered her bag and turned to leave when Asher's arm went around her shoulders. "Where are you going, beautiful?"
Greer glanced down at her phone screen. "I have to go to the airport and catch a flight back to Vegas, I'm afraid. That's why I didn't call you." That among a few other things. She stifled a small yawn. Her entire body was exhausted from the day, but she'd have time to sleep on the flight.
"Tonight?" Asher shook his head and when they left the bistro, he steered her right instead of left, away from the waiting taxis. "I don't think so."
"You don't, huh?" She should have been irritated at his presumption, but instead, her heart was starting to race and Greer felt a surge of excitement.
"You've been yawning all afternoon," he told her, and leaned in to brush a lock of stray hair off her face in a tender gesture that made Greer's knees weak. "You're carrying a baby and you've been running yourself ragged."
All true. "I can't change any of that, I'm afraid. My schedule opens up once Vader's wedding is done, but the baby thing won't be fixed for say, the next eighteen years." At his grin, she felt another twinge of guilt. Would her baby boy have his infectious smile?
"You can stay with me tonight." His finger trailed down her cheek.
Her heart fluttered. "I have meetings in the morning-"
"Cancel them," Asher said bluntly. "Take time out for yourself for a change. Is the world going to end if the caterer has to wait a few more hours to talk to you?"
"Well, no . . ."
"Are meetings your only objection to spending the night with me?"
Her entire body went on alert. Hot, sultry flashes of the last week's dirty phone calls rolled through her mind, and her nipples pricked. "I . . ." She licked dry lips. She could turn him down. Tell him she wasn't interested in pursuing things outside of the "lessons" he'd forced her into. But she'd be lying to him and to herself. "I don't object to that . . ." When his face lit up, she added, "As part of our . . . practice."
"Of course. I've been waiting all week for a chance to practice on you." His fingers curved to cup her chin and tilted her head back so he could kiss her. "I'm surprised to see you here, though I'm absolutely going to take advantage of it." Then he stilled, concern flicking in his eyes. "Why are you here? Is there a problem with Gretchen and Hunter?"
"No, it's the baby."
To her shock, his face drained of color. "There's a problem with the baby?"
"I misspoke," she said quickly, and felt even more guilt when obvious relief moved over his features. "The baby is fine. I had an appointment with my obstetrician and I wanted to keep it. I could have seen a doctor back in Vegas, but I like this one."
"And everything's all right?" Asher's gaze roamed over her as if he could assess her health visually. "Is there anything I can do?"
"I think you've done enough baby-wise, don't you think?" She meant it as a tease, but when he flinched, her guilt returned. So she blurted out the first thing she could think of. "It's a boy, by the way."
Asher froze. "A boy?"
She nodded.
His gaze went to her stomach, and then when he looked her in the eye again, she could have sworn his were a little wet with emotion. "Damn."
"I know," Greer said softly.
"I'd thought it would be a little girl." Asher's voice was hoarse. "Big dark eyes and dark hair like her pretty mother. But a boy . . ." he rubbed his mouth and looked away. "I know I'm not supposed to care because you don't want me to, but . . . damn. Finding out the gender just makes it that much more real, you know?"
She knew. Oh, how she knew. "I've felt the same way all day." Plus an extra helping of guilt for the contracts they'd drawn up to cut him out of the baby's life.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "It's wonderful, Greer. Congratulations."
A kiss on the cheek. A verbal pat on the shoulder. Was that all she got?
Why did she care? She was the one forcing him out of the picture.
Why wasn't any of this simple any longer? Why couldn't she just hate him and keep going the way she had been? She'd had her path laid out, and every time she was around him, it just got muddier. Greer sighed unhappily.
"What is it?" He stepped protectively in front of her and glared at a man trying to walk around them on the busy sidewalk. His gaze moved back to her face and then he scanned the street again, possessively looming over her.
That little action made her melt inside. He was looking out for her. Trying to take care of her in the only ways she'd let him. That cinched her decision for her.
She put her hand on his lapel. "Take me back to your place?"
Chapter 9
A boy.
Asher didn't know if he should have been excited or devastated at the afternoon's events. He'd left his office and come running the moment Gretchen had texted him to let him know that Greer was in town. He'd missed seeing her, and the glimpse of her in the restaurant, laughing and chatting with her friends, unaware of him? He'd fucking fallen hard all over again.
She was radiant. Lovely and radiant and sparkling with happiness.
And he was the fuckup in the equation trying to squeeze himself into her life, to take whatever crumbs she'd throw in his direction. He was fine with that.
Then he'd found out she'd been in town for a doctor visit and he'd nearly lost control, imagining the worst. Greer miscarrying. Greer sick.
But it was a normal check-up, and the baby was a boy.
It wasn't that the gender mattered. He didn't give a crap. It could have had two heads and nine arms and he'd have been fucking ecstatic. It was that finding the gender out had taken things from this is happening at some point to this shit is real and it is happening now.
And he was devastated at the thought of her cutting him out of her life after Stijn's joke of a wedding.
But then she'd sweetly reached for him and asked him to take her home, and his heart had nearly burst.
He'd take her back to his place, and then he'd pleasure her for so long and so hard that she'd never think again about leaving him. He wanted her dickmatized and craving more. So tonight? Tonight he had to be fucking perfect, because everything rode on pleasing her.
Greer was quiet and self-contained as they rode in the taxi together back to his place. He brushed his hand against hers and was pleased when her fingers laced with his. The only sign of nervousness on her otherwise impassive face? Her sweaty palm.
Hell, even that was adorable.
He was nervous, too. There was too much riding on this. He tried not to fidget as they entered his building and went up the elevator to his apartment.
When he opened the door to his apartment, Asher immediately wanted to close it again. The place was clean-he had a maid that came in daily and tidied things up-and it wasn't as enormous or lavish as other apartments because he didn't need the space for himself. What bothered him was that everywhere he looked, he saw old reminders of Donna's touch: the couch she'd insisted upon getting, the rug she'd wanted to cover the hardwood floors, the ugly vase she thought would make a great centerpiece for the gigantic wooden table that dominated his foyer.
It felt wrong to bring Greer back here. He'd never paid a bit of attention to the furniture before now. Hell, he was a guy. He didn't think about furniture, period. But seeing Greer walk in reminded him that he'd changed mentally since he and Donna had split, but like the photo lingering in his desk, there were signs of her here, too.
"Looks the same as it ever has," Greer commented, setting her purse down on a nearby end table.
Had she been to his apartment before? He racked his brain, trying to remember. Ah, a holiday party a few years back. Shit. How long had he been overlooking the best thing in his life? How had he never invited her back in the years since? "It's all going to change."
She looked back at him, curious. "Oh?"
"Yeah. Hiring a decorator on Monday. I'm tired of the look here. Feels . . . old. Outdated." Like it was someone else's apartment entirely.
Greer gazed about the room, nodding slowly. She stepped into the living area and ran a hand along the hideous leather sofa that was so damn uncomfortable but had cost a small fortune. "It's nice but I can understand wanting a change. What were you thinking of doing? Something more classic?"