Page 18 of Chasing Sophia

“She’s beautiful.” I run my finger carefully over her cheeks, worried she’ll throw a crying fit. But this sweetie just looks back at me with almost the same curiosity as I have for her.

“You look good with one in your arms.”

My head jerks to Patricia, now seated comfortably on the couch and looking at me and her daughter. “I still got a lot of time.” Even though I say the words, I’m hit by a pang of longing, and Asher’s face swims before my eyes.

Soph! It’s too soon.

“How’s life?” I return the baby back to Pat before my brain starts to get more crazy ideas.

“Life’s quiet but good. Larry got a new job.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is. He’s executive assistant to Ashcroft Miller, the heir to the Miller estate. It’s still new, so he’s nervous, but I’m sure he’s doing great. What’s that?” Pat’s eyes narrow as she stares at something behind me. I look over my shoulder and spot the miniature piano on the side table.

“Crap! I forgot to pack it.” I pick it up and hand it to Pat, who is definitely intrigued by my cute present. “I got it as a Christmas gift.”

“From whom?” She sounds more alarmed than surprised, and her question leaves me confused. She inspects the pianofrom all sides, as if she just found a stolen piece of her jewelry, and my hands itch to have it back.

“A friend.” I sigh in relief when Pat reluctantly returns my precious belonging.

“I don’t know what kind of coincidence this is… but I swear, Soph, Larry made exactly this for his boss as a Christmas present. Um… okay, not exactly, because that didn’t have your name engraved on top.” When her daughter starts to fuss, Pat tends to her, but after a beat she looks up. “You don’t happen to know Ashcroft Miller by any chance, right?”

My heart pounds as I shake my head.

Asher. Ashcroft Miller. Don’t they sound similar?My brain laughs derisively at me.

No. Two people can have similar names. Asher isn’t the richest man in St. Peppers. No way.

My stomach isin knots all during the ride from my mom’s place to my apartment. Anxiety balloons inside me, ready to invade every cell in my body. My legs tremble as I get off the bus and walk to my house. The lights of the living room are already on. Asher must have used the key hidden under the doormat. I walk through the wrought-iron gate, mentally repeating questions to ask Asher about his job. But I lose track of my thoughts when the door to my house is ripped open before I can ring the bell.

Asher greets me in a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black pants. There’s a kitchen towel over his one shoulder and a streak of… flour, or maybe sugar, on his cheek.

“I saw you through the window.” The excitement on his face makes me forget everything else.

“What’s happening?” I peek inside.

“I made dinner for us.” My heart clenches at his proud tone.

Oh, Ash.I feel like a huge burden has been lifted from my chest.This is my Asher.

He holds my hand and leads me to the dining table. There’s a simple white candle lit and fresh flowers in the vase. He drags over a chair for me and pours some champagne.

“I feel like a queen.”

“Hold on to that thought until you see the food, babe.” Asher places a swift kiss on my lips and dashes to the kitchen.

I’m still smiling when he returns with two plates and slides one toward me. I look between him and the food for another second before I fall into a fit a laughter.

“You don’t have to eat it.” The uncharacteristic red coating the tips of Asher’s ears makes me laugh harder. “It’s supposed to be a pancake,” he explains.

“I can see that. But why is it so black?”

Instead of replying, Asher gets down on one knee. “I can’t impress you with my cooking. That’s a given now.”

“What inspired you to put your cooking abilities to the test tonight?”

“Since I’ve met you, you’ve been the inspiration for all my thoughts, Soph. You and no one else.” My heart skips a beat when he grazes my cheek. “Let’s get some takeout.” Asher’s voice is hoarse as he makes the butterflies crazy inside my stomach.

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