Chapter 23 Asher
ASHER
It was fucking heartbreaking to hear the little girl’s crying. Mrs. Martin had her arm around her daughter, but her own face was tight with fear. Her designer handbag sat forgotten on the floor beside the couch, and her hands were shaking.
Zoe crouched down in front of them, her voice soft as she patted the little girl’s hand. “I know you’re scared. But Landon is the best. He won’t stop until he finds them.”
“And Kai’s with him,” I added, for Emma’s sake. “He’s Landon’s twin. So it’s like getting two Landons for the price of one.”
Emma nodded after considering those odds, but Mrs. Martin didn’t appear to have heard. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she glanced out the window. “It’s getting dark.”
“They have flashlights. Emergency equipment. Everything they need.” I kept my voice calm, authoritative. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable. Have you eaten?”
She shook her head.
“Come on.” I gestured toward the stairs that led down to the restaurant. “Let me get you two something.”
Dinner service wasn’t supposed to start for another hour, but my staff was already prepping in the kitchen. I stuck my head through the door.
“Everyone out. Take a break. Thirty minutes.”
There were a few surprised looks, but no one questioned me.
They filed out, and I held the door open, watching them go.
When I turned back, Zoe was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
Not the irritation I’d seen when we first met.
Not the heated longing from our recent encounters.
Something else, perhaps? Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
I pulled out chairs for Mrs. Martin and Emma at a table up front. Emma was sniffling, her small hands clasped tight in her lap.
Zoe sat beside Mrs. Martin and reached out to hold her hand. Just that simple gesture was important. She was offering comfort, connection, and support. I saw Mrs. Martin’s shoulders relax slightly, saw her squeeze Zoe’s hand back.
“They’ll be okay,” Zoe said softly. “Try to breathe.”
But I noticed the way Zoe kept glancing toward the stairs, toward the door. The way her free hand was clenched in her lap. That distant look in her eyes like she was seeing the mountain in her mind.
I leaned in slightly, keeping my voice low so only she could hear. “Landon’s done this a lot. He’s trained for it. And Kai’s an amazing skier. They’ll find them. They’ll be okay. They’ll all come back.”
Her eyes met mine, and I saw the fear there. Fear for Henry and his father, yes. But also fear for our friends.
“You’re sure?” she whispered. For a moment, she sounded as young as Emma.
“I’m sure.”
She nodded, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
There was genuine concern in her eyes—not just for the family in front of her, but for the men out there on the mountain.
This wasn’t the uptight, by-the-book intern I’d resented driving up here.
This wasn’t even the gorgeous woman who’d been driving me crazy with desire these past few days.
This was someone with a good heart. Someone who knew how to be present for people who were hurting.
And all at once, it hit me how hard I’d been on her. Over a fucking review she didn’t even remember. A review from years ago when we were both just starting the path toward our careers.
I’d been a petty asshole. And for what?
Emma was pacing now, unable to sit still. Her mother watched her without truly seeing her.
“Hey,” I said to the little girl. “You want to help me in the kitchen?”
“Really?” She looked up at me, surprised. Maybe she thought men didn’t cook much. Or maybe she was just wondering why the fuck I was going to give a cooking lesson during an emergency. But having something to do was better than just waiting and wondering.
“Yeah. Come on.”
I led her through the swinging doors into my domain. The stainless steel gleamed under the lights, everything in its place, organized and ready. This was where I felt most at home. Most myself.
“Ever made scrambled eggs?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Then today’s your lucky day.” I grabbed a bowl and some eggs. “First rule of cooking—always crack your eggs on a flat surface, not the edge of the bowl. You get fewer shell pieces that way.”
I demonstrated, and she watched carefully. Then I handed her an egg. “You try.”
She cracked it—a little messily, but not bad for a first attempt.
“Good. Now we whisk.” I handed her a fork. “You want to break up the yolks completely. See how it’s all turning yellow?”
She nodded, concentrating hard on the task. Her hands were steadier now that she could focus on something she could actually control.
This was definitely not the kind of cooking lesson I usually gave, but it was serving the purpose of distracting her.
I got a pan heating on the stove, added a pat of butter. “Watch it melt. See how it foams? That’s when you know it’s ready.”
“Okay,” she said quietly.
“Now we pour in the eggs. And this is the important part—you don’t just let them sit there. You have to keep moving them around.” I handed her a spatula. “Gentle. You’re not beating them up. You’re coaxing them.”
She started pushing the eggs around the pan, and I guided her hand when she went too fast.
That’s when I felt eyes on me.
I looked up and saw Zoe and Mrs. Martin standing in the doorway. Zoe had her arm around Mrs. Martin’s shoulders, the older woman watching her daughter with fondness. And Zoe watching me.
Something shifted in my chest.
I was in my element here. This was what I was good at—creating, teaching, nurturing through food. But it felt different with Zoe watching. Like this was the first time she was actually seeing me.
Not the jerk who’d been cruel to her at the beginning. Not the guy who’d been teasing her, giving her orders, getting her worked up and excited these past few nights. But who I was when I didn’t constantly have to prove myself.
“Almost done,” I told Emma. “See how they’re just barely set? That’s perfect. Take them off the heat.”
She did as I hovered nearby, waiting to spring into action if she seemed in danger of getting burned. Then I showed her how to plate them and added some toast I’d made while she wasn’t looking, with a little fruit on the side.
“You made that,” I told her. “All by yourself.”
She smiled for the first time since we’d come downstairs.
We brought the food back out to the table.
I grabbed a few other things from the kitchen—some cheese, crackers, and a carafe of juice—and set it all out.
No one was eating much except Emma, who dug into her eggs with surprising enthusiasm.
But I saw Zoe reach out and take Mrs. Martin’s hand again, just holding it as the woman cried quietly.
I talked to Emma, asking her about school, about what she wanted to be when she grew up, not wanting her to notice her mother’s tears.
“A doctor,” she said at the end of a long list of other careers. “Or maybe a chef.”
“Yeah? Well, you’ve got a good start on that last one.”
She smiled again, a little wider this time.
We sat with Emma and her mother for another twenty minutes until someone burst through the restaurant doors.
It was Dennis. His face was flushed, his eyes bright. “They’ve found them,” he said, looking at all of us. “They’re on their way back.”
There were four gasps, and then none of us dared breathe until we knew for sure.
“All of them?” I couldn’t keep the urgency out of my voice. “They’re all okay?”
Dennis smiled. “It sounds like it. A little banged up, but they’ll be all right.”
Mrs. Martin was already on her feet, pulling Emma up with her. They rushed past Dennis, heading for the lobby.
Zoe and I followed more slowly, our eyes finding each other. As glad as I was for the Martin family, I needed to see for myself that my friends were okay. I knew that Zoe did, too.
When we got upstairs, the lobby was crowded. Henry was sitting on one of the couches, a blanket wrapped around him, his face scraped and red from the cold. His father sat beside him, one arm around his son, the other holding a compress to his ankle. They both looked exhausted and cold, but alive.
Emma threw herself at her brother, and Mrs. Martin attempted to hug both her husband and her son at the same time.
Kai and Landon stood off to the side, looking beat. Kai’s face was red from the wind, his hair wild. But it was Landon who worried me. His face was ashen, his eyes hollow.
I pulled out my phone and contacted my sous chef, barking out enough orders that he’d be able to run the dinner service.
My friends were more important than a dining room full of strangers.
So I stayed with Zoe, watching as the Martin family held each other. Watching as Kai tried to talk to Landon, who barely seemed to hear him.
“They just need time,” Zoe said quietly. “Kai and Landon. To decompress.” I nodded, but we both knew that the real concern was Landon. What had it done to him, to go on this rescue when the last one had resulted in the death of his partner?
With a gentleness I’d never seen, Kai was leading his brother away.
We gave them a head start, then made our way to the hideaway, too.
The three of us had planned a sex lesson for tonight. It was supposed to start with hand jobs and progress to oral. Before all this happened, I’d been excited about it. About touching Zoe again and watching her face as her body shook with pleasure.
But now—
Landon was on the edge of the armchair on the far side of the room. His hands were red from the cold, but that wasn’t what disturbed me. It was the way his elbows were on his knees, his head in his hands, his whole body curved in on itself.
Kai was standing near the fire, looking lost. When he saw us come in, he walked over quickly.
“He’s barely said ten words since we got back. Not even to me.” Kai’s voice was rough with helplessness. “What do I do? Should I get him drunk to forget? Try to make him talk? I don’t know what’s best.”
I’d never seen my friend look so uncertain. So completely out of his depth.
“I don’t think we do anything,” I said.
Zoe looked up, concerned.
“We have to,” Kai insisted. “He shouldn’t be alone right now. It’s not healthy to think too much after something like this.”
“I know.” I met Kai’s eyes. “I said we shouldn’t do anything. You and me.” I turned to Zoe. “But you should go to him.”
“Me?” Her eyes widened.
“Yes.”
“What do I do?”
“This isn’t a lesson. You’ll know what to do.” I struggled to put it into words. “You two have... there’s something between you. Something strong.”
Something real, I thought. Would I ever have that with her?
It had taken me a really long time to realize that Zoe wasn’t just an uptight ballbuster with a killer body.
Even now, I wasn’t sure how I felt about her, besides being turned on most of the time.
But Landon had seen there was more to her from the start. ”
Maybe that’s what made the connection between them different. Real in a way that went deeper than desire.
Almost against my will, I found myself wondering if she’d ever look at me the way she looked at Landon.
She nodded, still looking worried.
Kai took her hand and squeezed it. “Please. Help him.”
She nodded again and walked slowly across the room to where Landon sat. She crouched down beside him and put her arm around his shoulders. The tenderness on her face was somehow too raw to witness, and I turned away.
“Let’s give them some space,” I said quietly to Kai.
We headed for the door, and I looked back one more time.
Zoe was holding Landon while he broke. And I suspected she was exactly what he needed right now.