Page 75 of Asher

I only had one thought in mind: grab what I needed and go find my wayward woman.

I stalked to my office and grabbed the divorce decree. Fuck doing this tomorrow. Fuck my plans.

It was happening now, right this very fucking second.

Walking back into the main part of the clubhouse, I barked at Pagan, “Where?”

Once he relayed where that fool woman was, I stalked to the doors, then kicked them open and stormed to my bike.

Arriving at the restaurant, I tore off my helmet, lifted my leg, and planted my other boot on the pavement.

Reaching into my saddlebags, I tagged the gift box I had and then stalked into the restaurant.

My eyes immediately scanned the inhabitants.

Some woman standing at the hostess stand said, “Sir, can you tell me the name of the party you are looking for?”

I, of course, ignored her.

Looking left, then right, my eyes hit every single female in this building, and then when my eyes landed on my heart that was sitting in a booth across from some punk ass motherfucker I growled and then stalked over to their booth.

The moment I reached her table, I ignored the limp dick-looking mother fucker and slammed my divorce decree down on the table in front of her.

Then I laid the box down in front of her, and then I walked the fuck out, sat down on my bike, and waited.

And then I waited, then waited, and then waited some more.

When I didn’t see her, I got up off my bike and stormed back into the restaurant.

The hostess didn’t bother saying a word to me.

When I reached her table, I said, “Gave you time to walk your gorgeous ass out to me, Chloe, ain’t waiting for another second longer for you to be in my arms.”

She sighed, then looked up at me and said, “I’m busy, Asher. And this decree doesn’t change anything. You were married. You should have told me. You didn’t do that. That’s on you.”

I braced my hands on her table, lowered my head, locked my eyes with hers, and said, “Well, you're right about one thing. I may have been married to that bitch on paper, but in my heart, I’m married to you. And you can bet your ass, no matter what I have to do, you will be married to me before the sun sets tomorrow.”

Her eyes flared, and I watched as they softened slightly, I would take that.

I would even take her temper she was about to throw at me, which she did in the next instance.

She threw her hands up and snapped, “You think I’m going anywhere with you? You’ve lost your ever-loving mind.

I grinned, “Chloe, I divorced her ass. I’m fucking yours.”

She snapped, her voice raising, and I didn’t give two shits if we gave the customers a show, “You were hers when you almost kissed me. You made me the other woman. And that’s so far from okay that it isn’t even funny.”

Then I growled to hide my grin, “I never fucking loved her, Chloe. I fucking love you.”

I ran my hand through my hair, I didn’t plan to tell her like that, “God damnit, Chloe. Just let me explain. Okay. Half an hour, that’s all I’m asking you for. You fucking owe me that much.”

And that was the wrong thing to say, and I knew it when she gasped, stood, grabbed the glass of water in front of her, and then threw its contents in my face.

Then she looked at the limp-dick motherfucker I was having a hard time with, not slamming his face into the table for even daring to spend even two minutes in her breathable atmosphere.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Everett. I apologize on behalf of Sheridan Accounting for our meeting being ruined. Please accept my deepest apologies and take in everything about our company before this rude individual interrupted our meeting when you make your decision. Thank you, and I hope you have a great weekend.”

And with that, she moved me out of her way and stormed out the door.

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