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“Don’t give me that. You’re not my husband. We aren’t a couple.”
Some part of me was screaming out for him to deny that. To say something like, hey, we screwed around a few times, maybe that makes us in some kind of relationship. It wasn’t much, but I’d take any bone I could get right now.
But softening the blow wasn’t Asher’s style.
“No, but until we decide otherwise, I’m your employer. And I’m that child’s father, whether or not you like it.”
“Nice to see which title you put first. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.” I didn’t want to repeat what had happened earlier, but I also didn’t want to share his air at that particular moment.
I was too hurt, and I wasn’t even sure I had any right to be. But I wasn’t sure what rights he had either.
We were both too gun-shy and too new at all of this to be able to have a rational conversation. At least right now. Maybe after we got some sleep—or perhaps within the span of the next six and a half months—we could get through a discussion about this topic.
Asher looked pointedly at the mattress we were sitting on. “This qualifies as a bed.”
“It does.” One I’d been eager to sleep with him in, until he’d made sure I remembered I was the hired help. “I also have one you made up for me down the hall.”
He exhaled. “Whichever you prefer.”
I’d prefer to stay in your arms.
But I didn’t dare do that, in case I was setting myself up for a very large fall. One that would affect more than me. More than Lily.
And I’d be wise to remember that the next time I wanted to let my hormones take over.
I made myself get out of his bed and walk to the door, gathering my shirt
as I went. My panties were far too damp and stretched all to hell, thanks to his strong hands yanking them out of the way.
Another fantasy checked off the list at least. I’d have to be happy with that.
“Goodnight, Asher.”
This time, when I closed the door behind me, I didn’t slam it.
Sometimes softness was far more powerful.
Seventeen
I slept for four hours and got up for work.
That was all I knew how to do. Force myself to keep going, one foot in front of the other. But today, I’d had to down three Tylenol and a strong cup of coffee before my feet would work.
Damn hangover. I hadn’t even been drunk all that long.
That was life. You played, you paid. I was lucky if I even got to play first.
I grabbed the first suit that came to hand in my row of practically identical ones and dressed in the muted morning light. It was still early, and I didn’t expect Hannah to be up yet. We’d gone to bed late, and she’d been sick yesterday—
I shut my eyes.
Sick from a baby, you asshole. Not food poisoning or the flu. And you gave her ginger candies. No wonder she wouldn’t consult you for any-damn-thing.
I hadn’t known. Hadn’t even guessed. Because we’d used condoms, and it had only been one night.
It had only taken one fall to kill Billy. He’d been young, capable, strong. The two situations weren’t at all related, except that just once was plenty.
Before I left, I wrote down a list of numbers where I could be reached in case of emergency, plus a few extra notes regarding Lily’s preferences. Hannah and I hadn’t discussed anything such as hours, or if she’d be staying here at least for this week while my grandmother was away, or hell, even salary requirements.
