Page 70 of The Wish List
“Pardon me?” I asked, confused. Why was he so upset?
He paced in front of me, back and forth, his steps fast, his face like thunder. He stopped mid-pace and met my eyes. He was determined. Serious. I suddenly realized the businessman had appeared.
“Do not ask me to take you back there.”
“All right,” I said quietly. “I’ll take the bus.”
He gripped my arms. “You cannot go back and live there.”
“Asher, I have no choice. It is what I can afford.”
“You do have a choice.”
“Asher, if this is about—”
He cut me off with his mouth on mine. He kissed me senseless. Until I was clutching his shoulders, kissing him back with the same intensity he was devouring me with.
He pulled back. “Thatis what this is about. You aren’t going back there because you and AJ are staying here with me.” He shook me gently. “Don’t you see, Rosie? This is where you belong. With me. Where I can see you. Feel you. Where I know you’re safe. I can’t begin to think of you back there in that cold little apartment, wondering and worrying if your lights will go on. If you have heat.”
“We’ve made do before.”
Again, he shook me. “You don’t have to ‘make do’ anymore. Ever.”
“Asher, it’s so fast. You can’t possibly think this is a good idea.”
He leaned close. “It’s the best idea I have ever had.”
“You’re overstepping.”
“I’m aware. But I’m not stopping.”
“Your sister—”
“Agrees. She can’t believe I haven’t moved you in already.”
“AJ—”
“Can be taken to day care every day and picked up. By me. You. Someone I hire. He loves it here, so you can’t use him as an excuse.”
“I’m not trying to find excuses. I’m trying to point out…” I waved my hand, trailing off. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to point out. Then I remembered my argument.
“We’ve only known each other a short time. What if we’re not compatible?”
He hauled me back to his chest and kissed me again, his tongue doing things to my mouth that should be illegal.
“Stop it.” I slapped his chest. “You’re clouding my head.”
He pressed his forehead to mine. “We are compatible. We were meant for each other. That is why I went to the store. That is why you named your son Asher. He hid that day because that was what was supposed to happen. I was meant to find you. You were meant to be mine.”
I searched his gaze, seeing only truth and longing in it.
“Asher,” I whispered, frightened. Scared he was right, terrified he was wrong.
“Describe your life to me in two words,” he said, his gaze intense.
I frowned at the abrupt shift in conversation. “Hard. Rewarding.”
“Because of AJ?”
