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“Cora got a big treat from the bucket. That’s it. The boys didn’t seem to careat all. How has this happened in just a few weeks?”
I sighed and walked into the living room. “I’m very disappointed in your behavior today. No stars, Dustin? Really?”
Dustin had the good sense to look ashamed. Micah barely even stared at me.
I turned back to Patty and winced. “This is crappy timing, but I don’t suppose you could watch them tomorrow?”
Patty grimaced. “I’m driving to San Diego tomorrow for work. I’d cancel if I could, but it’s too late…”
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “It’s my fault. I’ll figure something out.”
Patty was nice enough to continue watching the kids while I took a shower. By the time I changed clothes and walked back to the living room, the dads were coming up from work. There was chaos as the kids greeted them, and then Patty said her goodbyes and left.
“How’d the filming go today?” Asher asked.
“Well… It kind of sucked.” I explained everything with the director and the million useless takes we had to do.
“At least it’s over,” Rogan said. “And now you have that on your resume.”
“Yeah, about that… We have to go back tomorrow for additional filming. I need to leave here around ten. I have no idea when I’ll be back. Can one of you cover for me?”
All three of them winced. “We can watch them in the early afternoon,” Rogan said, “but we’re driving out to the valley to meet with The Weiman Agency. They want to discuss Amirah Pratt’s situation.”
“That bad?” I asked.
Asher nodded. “We might be fighting to keep the contract. We need all three of us there, to show them they’re a priority.”
I lowered my voice so the kids couldn’t hear. “Shit. Maybe I can move the filming time…”
“Don’t do that,” Rogan insisted. “We’ll figure something out.” He looked at his watch. “Tonight’s my turn. I need to head out to Amirah’s house.” He kissed me on the cheek, then went into his room to change.
Asher nodded at Brady. “Can you get the kids ready for bed?”
“No problem,” Brady said at the same time I said, “I just got home, I can do it.”
Asher took me by the hand. “There’s something I wanted to show you.”
He led me down the hall to his bedroom. There were three bookshelves filled with all kinds of books: I saw tech manuals, military history discussions, and biographies on men like Winston Churchill and Omar Bradley. Asher closed the door and ran his hands over my arms.
“What did you want to show me?” I asked.
He gave me a tender kiss. “Well, I sort of lied. You look like you’ve had a long day, so I was going to give you a massage.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Whatkindof massage?”
“Not the dirty kind. Remove your clothes and lay down on the bed.”
I wasn’t really in the mood for a massage, but I was too tired to protest. I stripped down to my bra and panties and then slipped under the covers, on my belly.
Still wearing his dress clothes, Asher climbed onto his knees on the bed and placed his hands on my shoulder blades. His fingers slowly dug into my muscles, kneading them in concentric circles.
Within seconds, all my protests disappeared. I let out a soft moan as he worked his fingers over my body, massaging away the stress. Asher found a knot in my shoulder blade and took extra time to rub it out. Sometimes the massage hurt, but only a little. And I knew it was for my own good.
“You’re. Really. Good. At. This,” I grunted out while he worked on my feet.
“I took a class. For fun.”
Time lost all meaning as I surrendered to his skilled fingers. After maybe thirty minutes, I was a puddle of relief and happiness. I hadn’t eaten dinner, but I could have gone right to sleep there in Asher’s bed.
