Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Opening the refrigerator, I’m pleased to find fresh ingredients stocked inside. Someone has thoughtfully ensured we’ll have enough food for a week without venturing out. I pull out chicken breasts, asparagus, and a few colorful bell peppers. The pantry holds rice, herbs, and spices, so I gather them up and start the stove, filling the cabin with comforting domestic sounds.
Asher watches silently, his elbow propped on the counter, chin resting in his palm. He looks completely at home here, casual in dark jeans and a simple black T-shirt that hugs every muscle perfectly.
As the skillet heats, I glance over at him, suddenly struck by how right this feels. Cooking for him, sharing this quiet intimacy. it’s effortless and natural. I want this to be my future. Our future.
I bite my lip, hesitating for only a second before finally voicing the thought I’ve been harboring for days. “Asher, have you ever thought about relocating?”
He blinks slowly, clearly caught off-guard, but he doesn’t immediately dismiss the question. Instead, his expression turns thoughtful. “Relocating?”
“Yes,” I say, seasoning the chicken and carefully laying it in the sizzling skillet. “Denver. You have a cabin there. We could start a dog rescue there.”
He nods slowly, processing my words. “You’d really love it there, wouldn't you?”
I smile softly. “I would. It’s peaceful. No galas or politics. Just...life.”
He studies me closely, his gaze softening further. “Would you be happy living away from your family? Your obligations here?”
I nod quickly, turning the chicken gently with the spatula. “I’d miss them, yes. But I need a fresh start. And I want it with you.”
He exhales, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, his muscles flexing subtly beneath his shirt. “My job—what I do—it’s rooted here. Dean, the agency…”
“I know,” I interrupt softly, cutting asparagus spears. “And I would never ask you to abandon something you love. But maybe there’s a compromise? Denver could use security experts too.”
He chuckles quietly, his expression softening further. “Funny you should mention that. My friend Boone—he runs the Nashville branch now. Dean’s branched out, expanded. I could open a Denver office. Same work, different location. I could even offer some self defense classes for local kids.”
Excitement blooms in my chest. I turn fully toward him, eyes wide. “Really? You’d consider it?”
He shrugs lightly, a teasing smirk on his lips. “It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”
I laugh, tossing a piece of bell pepper at him playfully, which he effortlessly catches. “It’s a brilliant idea, and you know it.”
He pops the pepper slice into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “It could work. But building a branch takes resources—time, money, risk.”
My excitement surges higher. “Asher, money’s not an issue. I could fund it. Help you get started.”
His face immediately sobers, his jaw tightening slightly. “Charlotte, I’m not with you for your money. That’s not how I operate.”
I sigh softly, moving around the island to stand directly in front of him, placing both hands gently on his chest. “I know that. I never thought otherwise. But if we’re really doing this—building something together—then that means sharing everything. Completely.”
He searches my eyes, conflicted emotions swirling behind his own. His voice drops to a quiet rumble. “I’ve always forged my own path, Charlotte. My own way.”
I stroke my thumb over his heart gently. “I know. It’s part of why I fell in love with you. But let me be clear: investing in your dreams doesn’t diminish your strength. It means we trust each other enough to share the risks, too. I want to be your partner. In everything.”
He stares at me, quiet for several heartbeats. Then slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, breaking through the seriousness. “You really don’t like taking no for an answer, do you?”
I grin playfully. “Not even a little.”
He chuckles, wrapping his arms around my waist and drawing me closer until I’m standing between his knees. “God help me, but I think I love that about you.”
“Good,” I whisper, pressing my forehead against his. “Because I have a lot more opinions where that came from.”
He laughs—a warm, deep sound that finally fills the kitchen with genuine ease. “I have no doubt.”
The tension melts away as we remain there, laughing softly, our foreheads still touching. The sizzling of chicken reminds me of dinner, and I reluctantly pull away to tend to it.
He watches me move back to the stove, an easy smile still curving his lips. “You’re pretty good at this, you know.”
I flip the chicken, shaking my head in amusement. “Cooking?”
“No,” he says, his voice softer now. “Making things feel like home. Like this isn’t just a temporary safe house. Like maybe it could be something permanent.”
I glance over my shoulder, meeting his gaze, my heart suddenly aching with longing. “That’s what I want, Asher. A real home with you. Away from threats and pressure. Just… us.”