Page 34 of The Accidental Text


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I’m eager to know every single thing about him I possibly can. If he agreed to it, I’d want a timeline from his first memory right up until now, filling in every gap. I know some of it through his public persona, but he’s never talked about his parents’ alcoholism before.

“I guess you could say it did.” He shrugs. “But they quit drinking when I was seventeen and we’ve been on good terms for years now. I held a grudge for a while, but in the end, sometimes, I wonder if it was a good thing.”

“How so?”

“It led me to history,” he says. “I’d disappear into history books when they were downstairs, having another one of their parties. Well, history books and exercise. I got addicted to running for a little while, and then I started boxing. My favorite thing was to do a hard workout so I had that head rush feeling and then dive into my latest book. I’m not saying it was a good thing, them being alcoholics, but it definitely led me to some good places.”

“I think that’s impressive,” I say. “Not everybody would’ve reacted that way. My mom and dad were great, in pretty much every way. I can’t imagine what I would’ve done if they hadn’t been.”

Heck, I’m tearing up, my eyes stinging. This is supposed to be a story about his childhood and here I am making it all about myself.

But then my man reaches across the table and softly smooths his thumb across my cheek.

“It’s okay, Autumn. It’s all going to be okay.”

I clutch onto his hand as our eyes meet, Asher made a little blurry with my tears. I rub them away and force away the sob, smiling, genuinely smiling.

I’ve got a man who supports me, who doesn’t make fun of me for sharing my emotions, who’d never hurt me the way Declan did.

That’s why I decide right this second. Right now. I’m not going to tell him about our first meeting.

I’m going to keep it to myself and let the relationship progress at its natural rate… which for us, it seems, is dazzlingly fast anyway.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Asher

I cut into my steak as Autumn takes a bite of her burger. She hesitated before ordering it, as though she thought I was going to judge her for it. But once I laughingly said I was glad, because I was worried she was going to order a salad and make me feel guilty, she relaxed.

Now she closes her eyes, savoring the taste. I love to watch her eat. I know she’d find it strange if I told her that, but it’s a pleasure to see how passionate she can get about the simplest things. And it’s good to know she isn’t shy about fueling that body of hers, that she’s keen to keep herself curvy and full-bodied and ready to take on my children.

“What?” She giggles as she opens her eyes. “You’re staring at me.”

I chuckle with a smile. “Just admiring the way you eat, don’t worry.”

“If you wanted that to sound normal, Asher, I think you might’ve failed.”

I wave a hand, laughing, as I struggle to keep my gaze fixed on her face. It’s too tempting to stare at her breasts instead, wrapped in the silver dress like she’s silently pleading with me to unwrap her like she’s a gift.

A gift for me, only for me.

Forever.

“What about you?” I ask. “What got you into history?”

“I guess you could say I’ve always been a bit of a nerd,” she says. “When I was a little kid, I liked to spend a lot of time at the library. My mom worked there and, when dad was working the same shift, she’d take me with her. I fell in love with it, walking down the aisles, knowing I could disappear into a new world anytime I wanted. And then I found the history section.”

Her whole face lights up like there’s a beacon of pure joy inside of her. It’s infectious and has me grinning too.

“It was so great. They had posters all over the walls, from different eras of history. When I first started reading them, I didn’t even know all that stuff had actually happened. I was a little kid and I thought they were stories, just like the other books I read. When my mom told me – she laughed like crazy – I was fascinated.”

Watching her light up about this is a pleasure, bringing me even more happiness than I can remember feeling for the past several decades.

Even when I made the jump from academic to celebrity historian – a move many of my colleagues doubted – and it all worked out, I never felt this level of intense emotion.

“I bet you think I’m silly,” she says.

“Not even a little bit. I bet that was an amazing experience, finding out all those things had really happened.”

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