Asher cleared his throat and pocketed his card before taking the flowers from her. “Thanks.”
“Now these flowers won’t do all the work for you. You’re going to have to put some thought into that apology. No girl likes being shouted at.”
“I’ll make it good. I have to. Emma isn’t the sort of person that would accept a simple sorry after my outburst.”
“Then she’s clever. Now, shoo. Go and plead for forgiveness.” Thanking her again, Asher started to walk out of the shop. “You know, I doubt you’ll have to try too hard. You’re rather nice to look at. I bet she gets tongue-tied looking at all that prettiness.”
Asher choked. “Pardon?”
She waved her hand in a circle. “Well, do you own a mirror? All of that male modelness has to keep her interested.”
“Is that a word?” He stifled a smirk.
“Might be. Anyway, go and get her.”
Asher was still chuckling as he walked from the shop. He clutched the flowers, lifting them for a quick sniff before he unlocked his car. He realised only a few moments ago that there was a huge flaw in his plan to grovel to Emma. He didn’t know where she lived. She hadn’t let him drive her to her door. She’d been too mad and wanted out early. However, he did know where she volunteered, and he knew just where the kid’s shelter was.
Dropping the flowers onto the passenger seat of the car, he started the engine and made his way to the shelter. Nerves had his heart racing, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead. He told himself it didn’t matter, that he hadn’t lost anything if Emma refused to accept his apology. She wasn’t a part of his life a few weeks ago and he got along just fine, so he could be without her again.
“Liar,” he said to himself, knowing Emma’s acceptance was important to him. No matter what he tried to tell himself. She’d been kind to him once, and he’d repaid her by being a dickhead. As sheltered as he was, he couldn’t live with leaving their relationship there. He never wanted her to think she’d wasted her time with him. He was far more thankful than she knew for that one act of kindness.
It had changed his life.
Numerous ways of conveying his regret played around in his head as he manoeuvred through the traffic. He even said a few thoughts out loud, trying to make them sound sincere. A simple ‘sorry’ didn’t seem good enough. He’d lost his temper because frustration had gotten the better of him. He just didn’t know how to make Emma understand that.
He slowed the car as he turned onto the street where the shelter was, and as he turned off the engine, he saw his hand tremble. Nerves were getting the better of him. This was important to him; it was important to get it right.
Thinking about that, as well as working out what he was going to say to her, Asher stayed in the car. He stared at the flowers beside him, as he replayed what had happened between them. There was no question that he was in the wrong. All Emma had done was try to help the kid, but it was too close. Far too close to his own childhood for him to think straight. Anger had driven him, hurt kept his blood boiling. Common sense didn’t seep into the conversation until long after he’d been an arsehole.
A knock on the window had him startling. “Shit!”
“You can’t hang around here,” came a deep, male voice, seconds before his face appeared through the glass.
Asher gulped and stared at the man.
“Do you hear me? You can’t park here.”
The bloke was huge. Even his head was twice as big as Asher’s. Whoever he was he was managing to scare the life of Asher.
“Listen, dude, if you don’t move I’m gonna call the police. I’m not a patient man. I have shit to do, and babysitting you isn’t one of them.”
Holding his hand up, Asher grabbed the flowers and climbed out of the car. Looking over the roof, he suppressed a whistle when the man stood up straight. He really was huge. And incredibly intimidating.
“I-I’m here to see Emma,” Asher said, trying to keep the nerves at bay.
The man’s eyes grew wide. “And you are?”
“Asher. Asher Harris. Is she working today?”
“You should know that…if you know her that well.” He ran a large hand over his dark, shaved head.
“I know her well enough to know she volunteers here. So why don’t you go and tell her I’m waiting. She knows me.”
Asher waited, never moving his gaze from the man before him. The guy seemed to debate what to do for a moment before he turned and walked into the large building behind him. Only then did Asher let out a long relieved breath.
The shelter wasn’t what he’d expected. It was a three story house, painted white outside and looked like any other family home on the road. A small plaque next to the door was the only thing to show what the house was. A few teenagers hovered around the entrance. One of them even having the gall to stub out a cig on the sign before he walked inside. Asher shook his head. The kid had no idea how thankful he should be that the shelter existed—that he had somewhere to run to.
“Asher?”
Emma stood in the doorway, holding a pad of paper to her chest. A pen held her blond curls back where it was tucked behind her ear, and she held her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Emma.” He moved around the car to greet her, carrying the flowers with him. Everything else around them faded as he walked toward her, his gaze locked to hers. She was cautious; he could tell that by the way she backed up a step as he neared.
“You need me to stay, Em?” the big guy asked.
With a wave of her hand, and a shake of her head, she sent him away. However, she remained at the bottom of the small steps to the entrance of the shelter. She clutched the pad of paper tighter. “Can I help you with something?”
“I brought you these,” he replied, holding out the bouquet as he tried to calm his rapid heartbeat. “I’ve come to say I’m sorry.”
Her lips tightened. “For what?”
Frowning at her, Asher took a step closer. “For my ridiculous blow out—for being a complete dickhead. I should have been calming you down, not making you feel worse. I lost my shit when I should have been making sure you were doing okay.”
“Why? What the hell made you act that way?”
Asher looked to the ground, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wasn’t about to confess everything to Emma here and now. He doubted he could ever tell anyone the whole truth. He couldn’t even replay the events in his own head, let alone verbalise them.
“Too close,” he finally responded, his voice sounding strangled. “The kid. The situation. It was too much. I just saw red. Felt the same shitty way I did when I was younger. Helpless. Fucking helpless.”
Emma placed the flowers and pad of paper carefully on the step before moving to stand right in front of him. She raised her arms and wrapped them around his shoulders, pulling until he stooped and accepted the hug. “I didn’t think about that. I’m the one who should be sorry, Asher.”
He released a breath, looping his arms around her waist. He inhaled her scent deep into his lungs, unsurprised when his skin broke out in goose bumps. His balls began to tighten too, but he beat that fact down. Pawing over her would not go down well right now. Not that he intended on starting anything like that with her. He couldn’t afford to give up that much of himself.
“You don’t need to say that. Please, just accept my apology—and the flowers, and tell me I haven’t messed this up.”
Her light laughter filled his ears and made his dick twitch. Shit.
“I can do those things if you promise to talk to me. Properly. Not the lies you tell everyone else.”
“Emma.”
“Nope.” She pulled away and glared at him. “Don’t you dare try to deny me. I want to be your friend, but that’s going to be difficult when you fly off the handle. I can’t just ignore them, but I can understand them if I know what’s going on with you.”
“You know, Em. You do.”
She shook her head. “You’ve come here, bringing
these,” she raised the flowers, “to apologise to me because you want us to be friends. For that to mean something, you can’t hide. I’m not expecting you to purge your soul. I just want to know what happened. What made you flip out?”
Asher exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Here’s the thing, Asher. Without a little give and take there can be no friendship.”
His insides churned at the reality of her words. He should walk away now. She was already making him feel guilty, giving him rules that he had to adhere to for her friendship to be returned. If he stuck around that would only increase, and his feelings would maybe intensify. He could not allow that to happen. Nothing about him was a good bet. Not for Emma Carnes. Not for anyone.
“I see the struggle,” she said, raising her hand to smooth the skin between his brows. He flinched back but only for an instant. Emma, however, continued to touch him. “It’s written all over your face. You tell yourself you don’t want this—me—in your life. You never sought me out, and yet here I am wanting to be friends with you. And here you are, secretly wanting the same but having no idea how to have that kind of relationship with a woman. Am I right?”
“People expect more than I can give.”
Her hand moved to his cheek. “You have no idea what you can give until you try. I bet you’d be happier if I did just want sex from you, huh? You know how to deal with that. Am I right? Here’s the thing though, I’m not the kind of person to demand anything from you. A coffee and chat every now and again will suit me fine.” She smiled.
Jesus, she turned him inside out already. His world grew warped and fuzzy around her. It also brightened and bloomed. “The coffee is awful where I go. But then I’ve heard the hot chocolate is far worse.”
She dropped her hand, her smile growing wider. “Really?”
He gave in a little. “I’m not used to interacting with people like this, Emma. I got frustrated. I got annoyed, and I didn’t—don’t, know how to deal with those feelings. They simmered and got bigger until they boiled over.”
“Let’s go and talk about it.” She checked her watch. “I finish here in five minutes. We can go and get coffee someplace new.”
Chapter 10
Ema
“I thought we were getting a drink,” Emma said as she climbed out of Asher’s car.
Asher grinned, pointing at his bookshop. “I do own a coffeemaker, and besides the fact that it’ll be nicer than the sludge at the cafe, I’d like our conversation to be between us. Not the entire shop.”
Apprehension weighed heavy upon her chest, and at the same time a zing of excitement had her smiling. The fact that he wanted to show her where he lived was a step forward for them. He fought with his emotions when it came to their growing friendship; he didn’t seem to know what to do with her. She was willing to go at his pace, willing to let him lead, because there was something between them. She would regret not exploring it.
“It had better be good,” she teased as he opened the door to his bookshop. The bell rang above the door, chiming again when she closed it behind them. He didn’t turn the light on, instead he walked toward the counter, beckoning for her to follow him with a crook of his finger.
Why did she have to find that one small action so hot?
Swerving around a pile of books, she walked around the counter and into the back of the shop. Asher flicked a switch, the light illuminating the stairs, and his next move had her holding her breath. The crook of his finger was hot but she wasn’t prepared for the sensations that flooded her when Asher held his hand out for her to take.
Emma didn’t hesitate. She reached out, placing her palm against his, enjoying the warmth of his touch as tingles erupted up her arm.
“It’s just up here,” he said, his voice deep and gruff. The tingles went wild. “It’s not much.”
“But it’s yours, Asher. That’s more than many people can say.”
He gave her fingers a quick squeeze. “I just didn’t want you expecting…things.”
“I don’t expect anything. Except a decent drink, that is.”
Asher shot her a smile before opening the door to his flat. After ushering her inside he stayed behind her, allowing her to see the small space where he lived. She could feel his anxiety while he waited for her to speak. She didn’t understand why he was so worried, the flat was clean and tidy, the space big enough for one person. Much like the shop downstairs, books were piled in the corner or on shelves. Six huge ones functioned as a missing leg for the well-used coffee table. His space was small, but Emma felt comfortable. It was lived in and…soft. A strange description, but it was the one word that sprang to mind no matter where she looked.
“Asher, it’s lovely.”
He snorted from behind her, his feet shuffling on the hardwood floor. “Not the kind of place you’re used to.”
Irritated by his response, she exhaled and started to turn around. Asher’s hands clutched her shoulders, halting her movements. She swallowed, the chemistry flowing between them became suffocating when he touched her.
“You don’t—”
“Let me take your coat.”
The sweep of his hand in her hair made his fingertips caress her neck. She closed her eyes, her body lighting up from the one tiny touch. The sigh that escaped her lips wasn’t intended, and she had no idea how the hell she was going to explain the slip to him.
Thankfully, Asher didn’t ask. He removed her coat, dragging it far too slowly down her arms before he hooked it behind the door. “I’ll get you that drink.”
Facing him, she held up her hands, hoping to stall his retreat. “Wait. Seriously, Asher, what kind of person do you think I am? I don’t care about all this—not that there’s anything wrong with your home. I came here because you asked me to. Not to analyse your possessions.”
He winced. “Shit. Em, I’m sorry. I told you I didn’t have much experience at this.” He gestured between them.
“Don’t second guess me. You have no idea what I expected here, or what I’m used to. Please stop assuming things about me.”
Thoroughly told off, Asher nodded and walked across the room to the small kitchenette. He lifted the electric kettle. “I’ll start now then. Hot chocolate or coffee?”
“Depends,” she said biting back a smile. “How bad is the hot chocolate in this place?”
Asher snorted and shook his head. “I don’t know. It could be bloody awful because I don’t make it often.”
“I’ll have coffee instead then.”
Feeling rather awkward just standing in the middle of his flat, she walked through the room toward him. As she moved she took in the shelves of books and knick-knacks. There were no photos. That simple observation saddened her. He wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t used to interacting with friends. “Asher, do you have any pictures of Ike?”
His hand stilled, hovering over the mug with a spoonful of sugar. “Why?”
“It’s that pesky friends thing again. We kinda share important points in our lives. I’d like to know about the man who helped you. The man who gave you his shop.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d still want to know after my outburst.” He paused and poured the hot water from the kettle into the mugs. “For the record, I really am sorry about that.”
The urge to comfort him gripped her hard, and even though she wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she’d get, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. His muscles bunched underneath his T-shirt, but he didn’t shrug her off. Taking it as a small sign, she took one step closer and smoothed her hand down his arm. Asher shuddered.
“We could talk about that. If you wanted.”
He turned, his head hung. “But why? Why do you need that from me?”
Emma wanted to weep at the sadness that flowed from him. She kept her hand on his arm and placed the other on his shoulder. Their thighs touched, both so close they were breathing the same air. Her body began to respond, her nipples tightening against the cup of h
er bra and the once steady thump of her heart was now somewhat erratic. It was a reaction she’d read about in books and had longed for her entire adult life. It wasn’t the first time she’d been aroused. This with Asher though, this complete overload to her body, was new, unexpected, and utterly thrilling. Nevertheless, it wasn’t quite the interaction she’d dreamed of. Right now there were no breathless kisses, urgent gropes and heated thrusts.
It was Asher.
Hurt, unsure, and locked up so tight she was going to have to wage a war to get through. And she was going to. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind. He had been the one person she’d thought to call when she needed help with Gabe. To her that spoke volumes. Asher was growing very important to her. She just had to make him see that.
“I don’t need that, Asher. It’s truly not that important. The reason I ask is because Ike was very important to you. He was instrumental in altering the course of your life. Because of that I’d like to know about him. He changed you. That must be something you like remembering.”
Lifting his gaze, he looked at her through a fringe of messy, dark hair. “My memories aren’t nice places. I don’t visit and you shouldn’t either.”
“But Ike is a good one, isn’t he?” She lifted her hand to cup his face. His eyes grew wide, no doubt mirroring her own. She hadn’t planned to be so tactile with him. Yet now it was happening without conscious thought. It was natural.
“He was the greatest part of my life,” he whispered, his lips so very close to hers. “But now he’s not here. I’m back to relying on myself.”
“You have Ben. And now me. You’re not completely alone.”
Asher pulled away, exhaling loudly. He went back to making the coffee, their moment bursting like a bubble. “How’s the kid doing?” His voice was scratchy, raw.
Emma didn’t like the change of conversation, but she allowed it. He needed the distance. Maybe she did too. Something was flowing between them. It increased each time they were together, coiling low in her belly and causing her knees to weaken. She tried to play it cool with him, even though she was completely out of her depth.
Igniting Ash Page 8
