Chapter 38 #2
As she gathered her things, Asher caught Cici’s eye across the circle. She was watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite read—something soft and questioning.
“While you’re doing that,” she said, her voice cutting through the polite murmur of conversation, “I need some air. Would you mind walking with me?”
The question was directed at Asher, and he was already standing before she finished speaking. “Of course.”
“You need to rest.” Her father had frozen halfway across the room, his words coming out on a growl.
“I’m not going far, Dad.” Cici didn’t wait for him to argue, just took Asher’s hand and walked deeper into the house.
They made their way past artwork and expensive furniture, family photos and perfectly placed books, toward a set of French doors that opened onto a stone terrace. The crisp salt air hit him, along with the sound of crashing waves against the rocks below.
Cici moved to the railing, wrapping her arms around herself as she gazed out at the ocean. The bruise on her cheek looked darker in the natural light, and Asher had to fight the urge to reach out and touch it.
“You’ve been quiet,” she said without looking at him.
“Just taking it all in.” He gestured toward the house behind them. “This place is incredible.”
“Intimidating, you mean.” She turned to face him, her eyes searching his face. “Right?”
He shrugged. “A little.”
“Asher.” She stepped closer, close enough that he could smell her unique scent. “This doesn’t change anything between us. The house, the money, my father’s attitude—none of it matters.”
“Doesn’t it?” The words came out rougher than he’d intended. “Your father made it pretty clear what he thinks of me. And honestly, can you blame him? I’m a bodyguard who let his daughter get kidnapped.”
“You’re the man who saved his daughter’s life.” Her voice carried a fierce edge. “And if my father can’t see that, then that’s his problem, not yours.”
Asher wanted to believe her, but the gulf between their worlds felt as vast as the ocean stretching before them. “This is your reality. Private helicopters, estates on the coast, artwork worth more than most people’s houses. I live in a one-bedroom apartment above a deli.”
“So what?” She rested her hand on his chest. “Do you think I care about any of that?”
“You deserve someone who can give you everything you want.”
“I deserve someone who loves me.” Her eyes flashed with hurt and worry. “Unless this was all just…adrenaline or something. Unless you didn’t mean—”
“I meant every word.”
“Okay then.” Her smile was back. “What I deserve, Asher, is someone who sees me for who I am, not what my bank account looks like. Someone who would throw himself off a cliff to save me.”
“I didn’t throw myself. I got tossed.”
Despite everything, she laughed. “There’s that humor I fell in love with.”
The words were a balm, soothing all his fear. She’d said it before, in the break room at the paper mill, but hearing it now, in the clear light of day with no danger pressing down on them, made it real.
“I love you too. But that doesn’t solve the problems we’re going to face.”
“Like?”
“Like the fact that your father probably has a background check on me sitting on his desk right now.”
“You have something to hide?” Her eyebrows hiked, her question carrying a certainty that she already knew the answer and wasn’t a bit worried.
“No, but also, the fact that I earn in a year what you probably spend on shoes.”
“First of all, don’t be ridiculous. All my extra money goes to jewelry.”
He tried to smile, but her casual words didn’t change anything. Shoes, jewelry, whatever. He couldn’t afford it.
“Second, I told you, I make my own way. My parents have money, but they don’t support me or my sisters. I know what it means to struggle to pay the rent.”
Right. But if Cici’s income fell short, she had a safety net, and that was a huge difference between them.
Except, maybe not that huge.
“Third,” Cici said, “my father’s opinion isn’t going to dictate my life. Not anymore.”
“You sure about that?” Because he got the impression her dad’s opinion meant everything to her.
“I’m twenty-eight years old, and I’ve been trying to earn his approval my entire life.
Trying to be the perfect daughter, make the perfect choices, to prove that I’m worth something.
” She looked out at the ocean. “You know what I realized when I was tied up in that warehouse?” Her gaze found his again.
“Life’s too short to live it for other people’s expectations. ”
“But your father’s opinion does matter.”
“Maybe, but how much? Enough that it affects how I live?” She shook her head, then winced, reminding him of all her wounds he couldn’t see.
She continued as if the pain were irrelevant.
“I’ve spent so much time trying to prove I matter that I forgot to actually live the life God gave me.
To choose what I want instead of what I think will make other people happy.
” She touched his face, her thumb tracing his jawline.
“I want you, Asher. I want us. Everything else is just details we’ll figure out. ”
The conviction in her voice, the certainty in her touch…
And why was he arguing with her? She was everything he wanted. If she wanted him, too, then what kind of an idiot would he be to talk her out of that?
He pressed his palms to her cheeks. “I love you, Cici Wright. And I’m going to fight for you, even if it means taking on that scary dad of yours.”
She laughed, but he didn’t miss how her eyes sparkled with tears.
She wrapped her arms around him, and he returned her embrace, careful, so careful, not to hurt her.
This precious, incredibly breakable woman he loved.