“He’s not a man who enjoys questions about his business. I doubt he’d take ones regarding his personal life too well, either.”
“And why is that? A man like that just accepting his wife living in a different time zone…” Justine passed the salt when Diane pointed. “I’m willing to bet that’s cause for some very interesting arguments.”
“Let it go, girl. You’re an editorial assistant. You don’t want to mess that up by screwing around, trying to find a story where there isn’t one.”
Justine smiled yet again. “Oh, there’s a story there all right, and I’m gonna break it and get my break.”
“Get your break is right if Bob and Grady find out you’re wasting time on this,” said Diane, mentioned their editors.
“Dammit,” Justine muttered, noticing that she’d missed her chance to catch Asher for comment. Four other men had approached the table. No worries, she decided, completely oblivious to Diane’s words of caution. She’d get a quote; she’d get the dirt. No one’s marriage was that happy. If it was, she’d move on. But if this panned out, she’d have one helluva story and the groundwork for one sensational career.
“Crikey, what round is it?” Talib groaned following the departure of the New Jersey team execs.
Asher chuckled and watched his partner massage his neck with both hands. “No one ever said contract negotiating was easy.”
Talib reclined in his chair. “You think they’ll go for what we’ve suggested?”
“They will. The kid’s too talented and too…upstanding to pass up.” Asher smirked, with a confidence he had every right to. “He’s well-spoken, educated, interested in the game before stardom. No…they’re ready to get him signed, trust me.”
Talib did just that, knowing Asher had a sixth sense when it came to reading people. He’d once boasted the same talent himself, before he’d misread someone and it cost him his heart. As if on cue, the person in question was approaching their table just then.
Asher’s grin turned into full laughter when he saw Misha. They embraced warmly and exchanged loud kisses on the cheeks.
“So Riley finally ran you out of the house with all that pregnancy angst, huh?” said Misha.
Asher replied to the dig with a playful wince. “Does it show that much?”
Misha smacked his cheek. “You’re too gorgeous to let it make you look bad.”
“Still good for my ego,” said Asher.
She winked and clapped her hands to her sides. “One of my many talents. Seriously, though, congratulations on the baby.”
Asher pulled her close again. “Thanks, Misha.”
“Talib,” Misha greeted in a faint tone once she stepped out of Asher’s embrace. She looked back at her best friend’s husband before Talib could respond to her greeting—as if she really hadn’t expected him to. “So I wanted to talk to you about having a party for Riley.”
“Misha, you know how she hates that stuff—especially when it’s in her honor.”
“That’s why I need you to get her there.”
“Putting me in the line of fire, eh?”
Misha knocked a fist on his shoulder. “I can’t think of anyone better.”
Asher closed his eyes resignedly and stroked the scar along his cheek. “I’ll get her there.” He sighed and leaned down so Misha could kiss his cheek.
Her expression dimmed when she looked down at Talib. “You’re invited as well,” she said, pressing her lips together when he nodded. “I’ll see you soon, Asher.” She excused herself a second later.
“How long you gonna torture yourself before you go after her?” Asher inquired while reclaiming his seat.
Talib hesitated, his hypnotic browns following Misha and reluctantly appraising her slender frame. The softness in his stare turned sly. “You forget that I’ve already gone after her and got her.”
“Trouble is, you want more of her.”
“No, the trouble is, she’s a schemer—a beautiful one, but a schemer just the same.”
Asher reached for his water glass. “And you never had a better time in your life, and have you ever thought maybe she wasn’t scheming you? Maybe it was a misunderstanding?”
Talib’s responding stare was not obliging.
“Misha Bales doesn’t look like a schemer. Especially when she looks at you. She looks like she’s suffering.”
Talib got his things together. “That’s because she got caught. They always look like they’re suffering when they get caught, mate.” He stood and drew a few bills from the back pocket of his khakis. “I pray you never have to see that look on Riley’s face.” He left Asher, with a grim smile.
Victor Lyne’s contract with the New Jersey ball club was secure. The execs accepted Asher’s proposal without further objections. Once all the proper paperwork was signed and in-house, it was time for the fun to begin. Victor was busy accepting accolades from his coworkers, being hunted down by every sports broadcaster in the country and preparing for a huge signing party.
Through it all, Asher and Riley thrived in the semblance of normal married life. They each considered it a treat to be living under the same roof, enjoying meals together, debating the latest news topics, debating baby names and whether they wanted to know or be surprised by the baby’s gender.
They hadn’t revisited the topic of exactly where they’d raise the baby, and Riley felt they’d avoided it for far too long. She’d come downstairs one afternoon to broach that very subject, only to discover her husband was nowhere to be found. Moments later, a key scratched the lock, and he walked inside.
“You had a craving that I didn’t satisfy last night,” he said to answer the question on her face.
Her mind was thoroughly in the gutter. “No, I think you more than satisfied my cravings last night.”
Grinning, Asher waved a box before her, and Riley uttered a delighted shriek. She opened the package to find it filled with individually wrapped chocolate peanut butter cups.
“Thank you,” she breathed, marveling at her favorite candy waiting nice and neat for her to tear into. Forgetting her husband, she focused her attention on the treat.
Asher watched in amazement as his wife devoured four cups in rapid succession. Scratching at the dark waves of his hair, he glanced down at the larger box he carried.
“Guess I should’ve given you this one first.”
“More candy?” Riley guessed, her gaze full of hope and her mouth full of chocolate.
Asher shook his head and then laughed. He led Riley to an armchair and placed the box on her lap. Wetting a napkin, he wiped her fingers and mouth before opening the box for her.
The gorgeous evening gown inside took Riley’s mind off the chocolate. Slowly, she pulled it from the wrapping, delighting in the stylish cut of the maternity frock.
“Well, Asher…thank you, but…I can’t seem to recall craving a dress.”
“Funny.” He perched on the arm of the sofa. “It’s for the party.”
“What party?” Riley’s voice was as absent as the expression she wore while studying the dress.
“Victor’s.” He allowed his hurt to show when she finally looked up, still wearing the absent expression. “Riley…”
“Oh. Damn.” She winced. “Baby, I’m sorry.” She left her chair and the dress behind and rushed over to console her husband. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. It just slipped my mind for a minute.”
“S’ all right,” he soothed and folded his hand over the small but increasingly noticeable bump in her belly. “You got a lot on your mind, so I understand,” he teased and nuzzled his nose against hers. “You think you can make it?”
Riley linked her arms about his neck. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t have to work.”
“Nope. No work.”
Her clipped tone intrigued him. “Is everything all right there?”
“Yeah.” She rubbed her thumb along his collarbone and debated a second. “There is something I need to tell
you, though.”
“About the job,” he guessed, watching her nod. “Spill it.”
The phone rang before she could begin. It didn’t take long to realize the calls with questions on the deal had begun full force. Asher promised to be only a second, but Riley urged him to bask in the moment. His laughter over the success robbed Riley of her ability to ruin the moment with her job news.
The calls must’ve lasted into the wee hours, for when Riley next saw her husband, it was the following morning. He stood at the foot of the bed, securing the belt around tanned slacks, while she slumbered, naked, in their bed.
“Mmm…Asher? Handle that, will you?” she grunted and motioned toward the sunlight streaming through the windows.
“Not natural to hate the sun,” he scolded while seeing to the blinds.
Riley stretched like a lazy cat. “I don’t hate the sun. I hate when the sun streams through my windows at seven o’clock.”
Asher rolled his eyes while rushing for his suit coat. “Evil. I hope the kid won’t have your outlook.”
Mention of the baby made Riley think of how wonderful everything had been and how ugly it was about to become.
“You okay?” His head tilted in concern. “Need anything?” He stepped over to the bed and trailed his fingers across the faint shadows beneath her eyes. “You don’t look like you got enough sleep last night.”
Riley pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed its center. “Pregnant women don’t always look their best.”
“To hell with that,” he muttered, his gaze turning from concern to adoration. “You could have shadows as deep as moon craters beneath your eyes and still be gorgeous.”
“Why, honey, you say the sweetest things,” said Riley, pretending to gush.
He curved his hand around her chin. “This is about more than that. Like maybe you’re not feeling well, and there’s something going on with the baby that you don’t want to tell me about.”
“No, that’s not it, I swear.” She squeezed his hand.
Asher had tossed aside his suit coat and taken a seat on the edge of the bed. He toyed with the clipped locks covering her head before his fingers journeyed down to cup and fondle her breast.
Riley moaned and reclined against the padded headboard. She relished the feel of his thumb grazing an achy nipple. When she punctuated her moan with a wince, Asher slowed the caress.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No, no.” She shook her head quickly. “Don’t stop. This helps…They’re just itchy, that’s all. It happens sometimes…when they grow.”
“They grow?” Asher’s handsome honey-toned face was alive with fascination.
Riley shivered while the heavenly sensations coursed through her. “Your boobs grow when you’re pregnant,” she shared.
“More?” he asked, looking every bit the prepubescent boy as he ogled the seductive rise and fall of her bosom. “More than all this?” he breathed.
“Will that be a problem, Mr. Hudson?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.”
She pressed a hand to his chest when he leaned close. “What are you doing?”
“Helping.” He pressed her down into the covering.
A wavering cry rippled from Riley’s throat when his lips covered a puckering nipple. His thumb soothed the other, and she spasmed from delight.
Asher was true to his word. The mind-clouding suckling and nibbling truly soothed the tender buds.
“How’s that?” His nose encircled the dark cloud surrounding one nipple.
Riley licked her lips and ground against his thigh. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”
Seconds turned into climactic minutes as the pleasure mounted. Riley moved to undo Asher’s belt while he tugged at his tie. The attention he’d lavished on her breasts traveled onward, as he cherished the rising mound of her belly, and then on to the part of her anatomy he craved like a drug.
His arrogance peaked when she shrieked his name and arched into the torturous attention he paid to the sensitized flesh above her womanhood. When his tongue delved deeply to rotate amidst the heavy moisture filling her sex, Riley was sure she could’ve melted into the covers.
“I need more than your tongue, Asher.” She felt his body shake when he chuckled at her bold request.
Before he could oblige, his cellular pierced the air.
“No please.” Riley felt as if her body were sizzling for him. “Asher, please…”
“Shh…”
“Don’t answer it. Mmm…” She writhed on the sheets when he dropped soft pecks on her thighs and belly as he rooted around inside his trouser pockets for the phone.
Leaving her with a cool wink, he answered the line. His voice was deep and clear; he was all business.
Somehow, Riley managed to pull herself together and listened as he handled his call. Hearing him speak and watching him across the room, lean and sexy, with one hand pushed into his pocket, head bowed as he conversed, were almost as arousing as having him touch her.
“Yeah…I was on my way out the door.” Asher flashed Riley a naughty wink when he looked back at her. “All right. See you in thirty.” While pushing the phone back into his pocket, he told her, “Talib says hello. Sorry I can’t stay.” He cupped her face. “You goin’ in?”
“I’d planned to.”
“I’ll drop in on you later, okay?”
Riley nodded, eagerly accepting his kiss, which ended once she’d sucked every ounce of her taste from his tongue.
Asher debated whether he should go or stay. Responsibility won out, and he straightened, only to have her clutch his hand, as if she wanted to tell him something.
“I’ll, um, I’ll see you later.”
He waged war within himself but held back from making her come clean. “Get some sleep,” he whispered and tucked her in before he revisited the bathroom. She was snoring lightly when he left the bedroom.
Riley looked on as her doctor nodded in that patented doctor manner while she studied the long clipboard in her hand. When Dr. Lettia Breene looked over at her patient and smiled, Riley bristled.
“If you’re going for soothing, the effect is lost, because I don’t like it.”
“Well, you should, because everything’s lovely.” Lettia’s round, pretty face was a picture of serenity.
“Everything. I feel far from lovely.”
“Well, I’ve got some concerns, but the baby is lovely.”
Content with that news, Riley sighed. “Tell me the rest.”
“I’m reading some tension, and I don’t like those shadows under your eyes.”
Riley massaged the bridge of her nose. “Asher mentioned those, too.”
“Any stress with him being back?” Lettia removed her glasses and let a touch of wickedness gloss her eyes. “Course, I don’t see how any woman could be stressed with a beautiful thing like that.” She cleared her throat. “You didn’t even hear me say that.”
Riley laughed, as she often did whenever the no-nonsense, full-figured obstetrician lost her cool. “It’s all right, and it’s not that. There’s a conversation I need to have with him, and I’ve been putting it off.”
“Ah…” Lettia perched her gold spectacles back on her nose. “Any thoughts on when you might tell him?”
Recrossing her legs, Riley set her fist on her knee, bared by the slit in the hem of her dress. “I started to this morning, but, well…other things came up.”
“Well, you just get it out—whatever it is. The first three months of pregnancy are the most tenuous. Not only should you refrain from lifting heavy items, but you shouldn’t allow heavy matters to weigh too long on your mind.”
Riley shielded her face in her palms. “That’s good in theory. In practice, it’s hell.”
“Well, try.” Lettia tapped her pen on the glass top of her desk. “And try to have fun. This is a happy time, remember?”
“Right.”
“And you can start by enjoying the party Misha’s giving you.” Lettia
winced when her patient’s gaze narrowed. “I was told it wasn’t a secret.”
“It’s fine, but you know parties aren’t my thing, and I’ve got not one, but two, to suffer through.”
Lettia tapped her desk again. “Well, I think it’s great. If that doesn’t help you shed some of that tension, nothing will.”
Riley tried but couldn’t seem to latch onto her doctor’s excitement.
After the appointment, Riley went back to her office, where she finished the last of the chocolate peanut butter cups and chased them with two bottles of water. The water, however, was more to make up for gorging on the delicious candy than to quench her thirst. Closing her eyes, she savored the last piece and followed it with more water. She was dumping wrappers into the wastebasket when the office door closed behind her. Glancing across her shoulder, she expected to see anyone other than her husband, who stood leaning against the door, with his arms folded across his shirt.
“How’d it go?” She took note of his sexy, haggard appearance. His tie was loosened, and the shirt hung outside his trousers.
Asher studied his loafer-shod feet, one crossed over the other. “Went great. Guess I could’ve enjoyed it more if it weren’t for other things on my mind.”
Riley leaned on the front of her desk. “What other things?”
He didn’t see fit to give a verbal reply. Instead, he bounded across the room. His mouth came crashing down upon hers as he pulled her impossibly close.
Her moans were gurgled and faint, yet Riley hungrily encircled her husband’s neck with her arms as their tongues fought a lusty battle. She felt his fingers venture beneath the slit hemline of her pin-striped dress.
“Asher—”
“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” His tongue lunged long and deep. “Don’t stop me.”
“Only going to ask if you locked the door.”
“Done.”
Riley heard her panties rip and cursed Asher, even as she cheered the forethought to wear stockings instead of hose. She brushed away his hands and handled the job herself.
Asher kissed his way down her body, worked back up and settled for nibbling an earlobe while his fingers worked a nipple. Using his other hand, he freed himself from the confines of trousers and boxers.
Hudsons Crossing Page 15
