Chapter Twenty #2
“I love you.”
His heart melted. There was something extra special about those three little words when Asher offered them without prompting.
“I love you, too.”
~
“Have you lost your damn mind? ”
Asher had expected the reaction, but it still made him laugh. “Come on, Becca, it’s perfect, and you know it.”
“I’m not sure that’s the word I would use,” she grumbled.
If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was concerned about losing out on her cut of the royalties, but he did know better.
He’d known Becca Taggard for a long time, and while she was tough and didn’t put up with bullshit, she was also the kind of person who would give a stranger the shirt off her back.
She had more than proven herself worthy of his trust. The most recent occasion being when she’d backed him against Atrea Press. Besides, if it wasn’t for her negotiating such an ironclad contract for him, his plan for the Marshall Kane series wouldn’t even be an option.
“What about this new book?” she demanded, echoing Cameron’s concerns, only with a lot more accusation in her tone. “What are you going to do with that when you finish it?”
Asher laughed again. “I’ll let you shop it around,” he promised. “Not with Atrea, though.”
“That goes without saying.” There was venom in her voice, and since it wasn’t directed at him, he adored her for it. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”
Asher considered it, but he wasn’t ready to share the secret just yet. “I will soon.”
“Not even a hint? ”
When he was ready, Cameron would be the first person to know all the details. Asher owed him that much. “Soon,” he repeated. “Let’s just focus on one book at a time for now.”
They discussed how to proceed with the last Marshall Kane book for ten more minutes, though they never really reached an agreement.
Becca wasn’t completely convinced that self-publishing at a fifty-percent discount was the way to go, but she promised to send him a list of editors she thought would be a perfect fit for the series.
Asher agreed to table the conversation until after Christmas, but honestly, he’d already made up his mind.
He valued her opinion, and he appreciated her counsel, but he wouldn’t be swayed, not this time.
It was time for him to take back control of his life, and that started with the future of his writing career.
For years he’d catered to his publisher and his editor.
He couldn’t count the number of changes he’d made or scenes he’d altered to pacify their vision for his books.
Not all of them had been a big deal, and some had even made the story better.
Just as many changes, however, had undermined the plot and made his hero act out of character.
He hated those books. Not surprisingly, they were also the books with the least favorable reviews.
He was also adamant about donating the royalties from Uninvited to Reach Out.
For days, he’d scoured the internet, researching every charity under the sun.
It had been Reach Out that had really grabbed his attention.
Based right there in Dallas, the nonprofit organization provided shelter and resources for teens who had been abused, neglected, or abandoned by their families.
It was a safe haven for kids who had nowhere else to go. They even offered counseling for those who needed it and provided legal representation for teens who wanted to become emancipated.
He hadn’t lied when he’d told Cameron he wished there had been somewhere like Reach Out when he’d been a kid, but that hadn’t been the whole truth.
If there had been a place like that for Kyle when he’d needed it, maybe things would have turned out differently for him.
If there had been someone to care about him and lead him down the right path, maybe he would still be alive.
One day, he’d tell Cameron, explain his reasons.
For now, he couldn’t bring himself to cause the guy any more distress.
Cameron thought he was hiding it well, but Asher knew he slept fitfully at night.
He knew Cameron sometimes woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare.
He saw the way Cameron flinched every time Kyle Ander’s name was mentioned.
He’d be okay. Eventually, those memories wouldn’t haunt him anymore. It wasn’t a wound Asher could heal, but he could do his best not to open it any wider.
He was almost out of the kitchen, still lost in thought, when he remembered that he’d promised Cameron food.
Bringing up the number for their favorite pizza place, he frowned when his call when directly to an answering service.
He rolled his eyes at his own idiocy when he realized it was barely after nine o’clock in the freaking morning.
That probably explained why Cameron had looked so amused when he’d suggested ordering lunch.
Sliding his phone into the pocket of his sleep pants, he headed back up the stairs.
He checked the library, frowning when he found it empty.
Remembering something about Cameron and a shower, he retraced his steps, grinning when he heard the sound of running water coming from the open door of the master suite.
There were few things in life better than a naked, wet, and horny Cameron. Asher couldn’t actually name any of them at the moment, but he was pretty sure they existed.
He made his way toward the en suite, stripping out of his clothes as he went.
His cotton sleep pants fell to the floor with a heavy thud, and he silently cursed as he bent to retrieve his phone from the pocket.
Carrying it over to the dresser, he set the device down atop the painted wood, then reached for the brass knob on the top drawer.
He hesitated, his heart beating a quick staccato inside his chest, then pulled it open.
Neat rows of folded socks and underwear greeted him. There was nothing remotely menacing about the items, but his hand shook as he reached to the very back of the drawer and wrapped his fingers around a small, cardboard box .
The package was small, barely bigger than his thumb, but staring down at the shimmering silver box with its red bow, he felt like he held the weight of the world in his palm.
It wasn’t a gift exactly, and it was more symbolic than anything, but he did plan to wait until Christmas to give it to Cameron.
He swallowed hard.
Cameron would probably think he was crazy.
He would come up with a million reasons why it was a bad idea, but Asher was ready.
If the past week had taught him anything, it was that life was short.
Too short to waste even a single minute of it.
He wanted this, maybe more than he’d ever wanted anything.
Returning the box its hiding place, he slid the drawer closed as quietly as he could, then continued on his original path to the shower. The smile he received when Cameron spotted him through the fogged glass sent all the blood in his body racing toward his cock.
“Took you long enough,” Cameron teased, crooking his finger for Asher to join him.
Needing no further invitation, he crossed the heated tiles quickly and stepped into the enclosure to press himself against Cameron’s back. Cameron moaned and relaxed into him, rubbing his firm ass against Asher’s erection in blatant invitation.
God, he loved Sundays. While they normally spent all of Cameron’s three-day weekend together, Sundays were just for them.
Even better, they were almost always enjoyed in bed—or against any flat, stationary surface.
They didn’t go out to restaurants or clubs.
They didn’t meet up with their friends. It was just him and Cameron, cocooned in their own private world.
Asher wanted more. He wanted to wake up to Cameron every morning.
He wanted to share a cup of coffee with him before Cameron left for his office and Asher retreated to the library to work.
He wanted all those little domestic moments he’d once shunned.
He wanted Cameron to be his, and not just for three days at a time.
He wanted it all.
It was something he’d already been pondering before the interview, but he couldn’t deny that almost losing Cameron had cemented his decision.
He didn’t care if it was too soon. Maybe they’d only known each other for a few months, but those hadn’t been typical weeks in a new relationship.
In that time, they’d faced obstacles most couples never would.
They had been through hell and come out on the other side, stronger than ever.
Sliding his palms over Cameron’s slick abs, his mind wandered back to the box in his dresser, to the single, gold key nestled inside it.
How had he ever thought he could walk away? He needed Cameron like he needed to breathe. So much, in fact, the time they spent apart during the week was becoming increasingly unbearable .
Hopefully, that was all about to change.
He slid his hand higher up Cameron’s chest and brushed a thumb across his erect nipple, grinning wickedly when Cameron shivered against him.
Two weeks to plan.
Two weeks to get it just right.
Two more weeks to figure out how to convince Cameron to take a chance and move in with him.