Page 86 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
I roll my eyes but don't argue. I wait until he turns to stir the rice before adding a splash more. His back stiffens. I swear, the man has actual eyes in the back of his head, but he doesn't comment.
The domestic rhythm of cooking together feels strangely natural, his methods somehow complementing my improvisational approach. When he's not looking, I add more spices, tasting and adjusting. When I'm not looking, he measures and balances, ensuring nothing burns.
"Han's tracker is parsing the data from the surveillance op," I say as we plate the food. "We should have patterns by morning."
Asher nods, his focus on the perfect alignment of bell peppers he's arranging on each plate. The sizzle of vegetables hitting hot oil fills the kitchen, along with the scent of garlic and ginger.
My phone rings, the custom tone telling me exactly who's calling before I even look at the screen. I wince.
"Hey, Ate Kaela," I answer, already knowing what's coming.
"Where are you?" My sister's voice is sharp with concern that quickly morphs into suspicion. "You missed lunch with Nanay yesterday, and now you're not answering her texts about Sunday dinner."
"No, Ate, I didn't forget." I wince. "It's just—"
"It's just what? You haven't missed Sunday dinner in three years, Nessa. Mom's convinced you're either dead or pregnant."
Asher's head snaps up at that last word, his dark eyes locking with mine. A fork pauses halfway to his mouth. His eyebrows raise slightly—for him, an expression of extreme surprise.
"I'm fine, I promise. Tell Mama I'm not dead or pregnant. There's just been a lot going on with..." I hesitate. The cover story about being a barista feels ridiculous now. "...work."
"What coffee shop emergency could keep you from family dinner?" Kaela asks, skepticism dripping from every word.
Despite her corporate success and perfect life, my sister has never fully accepted my fabricated barista career.
I catch Asher's eye, making a split-second decision. "Tell Mama I'll be there," I say finally, then hesitate, looking at Asher before adding, "And...I might not be coming alone."
There's a moment of stunned silence before Kaela erupts with questions. I hold the phone away from my ear, letting her excitement wash over me like a tsunami.
"I'll explain everything tomorrow," I interrupt when she pauses for breath. "Love you, bye!"
I end the call and drop my head into my hands. "Oh my god, what did I just do?"
Asher calmly takes another bite of stir-fry. "Invited me to meet your family, apparently."
"You don't have to go," I blurt. "I mean, we can make up some excuse or—"
"I'll go," he interrupts, setting his fork down precisely alongside his plate. "It serves multiple purposes. Your family home will be a location they wouldn't expect if anyone is tracking us."
I stare at him. "Seriously? You're viewing Sunday dinner with my family as a tactical advantage?"
One corner of his mouth lifts. "Multi-purpose mission. Security and..." He pauses, weighing his words. "Information gathering."
"On me?" I ask, both amused and horrified by the thought of Asher analyzing my embarrassing childhood photos.
"On what matters to you," he clarifies, his voice softening just slightly. His eyes scan my face with unusual intensity, like he's memorizing every detail.
I pace the bedroom, anxiety vibrating through me. The rain has softened to a gentle patter against the windows, but the storm inside my head rages at full force.
"You don't understand," I tell Asher, who's watching me from his position at the foot of the bed.
"In my family, missing Sunday dinner is like announcing you're joining a cult. But showing up with you?"
I stop abruptly, mentally calculating the reactions like complex algorithms. "My brothers will interrogate you in multiple languages. My mother will evaluate your earning potential and genetic contribution to future grandchildren within five minutes."
I run my fingers through my hair, tugging slightly. "She's already been making comments about how I'm not getting any younger and how I'm gaining weight from all the café pastries. If I show up with you, she'll start planning a wedding before we finish the soup."
My hands flutter in front of me as words cannot capture the beautiful chaos that is a Filipino family gathering with a new boyfriend in the mix.Not that Asher is my boyfriend. He's my... I don't even have a classification for what he is. My protector? My lover? My incredibly possessive not-quite-boyfriend who makes my brain go quiet when he touches me?
