“Yes, but he has billions. And think of how miserable you could make him! Doesn’t the fun of misery count for something?”
Greer smiled. “I don’t want my baby to be used as a tool to make someone else miserable.” She’d had firsthand experience in that, thank you very much. “I just want him or her to be surrounded by love.”
“Aww, that’s really cute and all, but I think all this goo-goo diaper talk is drifting away from the real reason for this call . . . which is you telling me all about why you and Asher are hate-fucking. Now hold on and let me get some popcorn, because I have a feeling this shit is gonna be good.”
***
It turned out that Asher’s lie came back to bite him in the ass. The pretense of being pulled away for work turned out to be very real when one of his overseas offices had a security breach and another employee’s laptop was stolen, containing client information for hundreds of small businesses. It was a bit of a nightmare and his new CEO’s first opportunity to right the ship, and important enough that Asher himself wanted to be there to ensure things were running smoothly.
Okay, he was still struggling with being hands-off. But he was getting better all the time. Nevertheless, he wanted to be there for this particular situation and chartered a private jet back to NYC, then spent the next three days closeted in meetings to discuss contingency plans, future disaster scenarios, and security breach statements.
He missed the engagement party he was supposed to be present for. And while he didn’t give two shits about toasting Stijn or his three potential brides, he’d wanted to see Greer in a hopefully slinky dress and spend more time with her. He really wanted to spend more time practicing kissing.
Wasn’t it just his luck that reality decided to intrude on his bubble?
Asher was returning back to his apartment when his phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Greer: I can’t figure you out.
He waited impatiently in the elevator while it crawled up forty floors. He wanted to text Greer back immediately, but it felt too personal to do it in an elevator crowded with people. Hell, even one person would be too many. Probably because he got a lot of inappropriate hard-ons when talking to Greer. He raced to his apartment, shut the door, and then flung off his suit jacket and expensive Italian loafers. He took his phone into his bedroom, relaxed on the bed, and then typed out a response to her.
Asher: Because I’m mysterious and alluring?
Greer: Because you took all the trouble to set up this whole “practicing kissing” thing and now you’re not showing up for any of the lessons. Are you avoiding me?
Fuck. Did she really think he was avoiding her? His entire body craved being near her. She was in his dreams at night, and the image he saw when he stroked his cock in the shower every morning. Avoiding her? If she was in the same room as him, he’d have been all over her.
He wouldn’t text that, though. He’d call her instead. If nothing else, so he could hear her voice.
He dialed her number and waited as the phone rang several times. Was she not going to pick up? Fuck, he hadn’t even thought about that. This was a woman that had blocked his calls for months on end. If she was mad at him, she’d be perfectly fine ignoring him until—
The phone clicked over. “Hello?”
Greer’s soft, smoky voice made his balls instantly tighten. Any playful, flirty things he was thinking about saying to her went flying out the window. “Why would you think I’m avoiding you?”
“Well,” she began. “You went to a lot of trouble to force me into this bargain we made, and now you’re not showing up for it. What am I supposed to think?”
“You could think that I’m kicking myself for not being there to cash in? Because it’s the truth.” He rubbed his forehead. “This has been a hellish week on my end. If I listen to one more person complain about contingency meetings—all the while failing on that end—I’m going to lose my shit.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, but her voice sounded amused instead of sympathetic.
“How’s your week been?” he asked, settling in on the bed. His cock was aching, and he pictured her sitting on her own bed, maybe surrounded by fluffy pillows. She’d be reclining, her shirt unbuttoned low, toying with a lock of her thick hair. . . . Christ, that was a sexy image. His hand went to his cock and he rubbed it through the fabric of his slacks.
“My week?” She sounded surprised. The throaty chuckle escaped again. “About as well as you can expect. I found a caterer willing to work on short notice, found a baker to create three different cakes, and the girls went dress shopping. The bridal parties—all three of them, mind you—were finalized, and that meant deciding on dresses and colors for each person.” She yawned. “No one agrees on anything. It’s been . . . a marathon, to say the least.”
“You need me to do anything? Offer my opinion on anything for your dad?” Mostly, he just wanted to know if she needed him.
“I’m good. You did make a few decisions, by the way. I had you pick out the cut of the tux and you selected the groom’s cake since I needed that information in a hurry.”
“I did, huh? How’d I manage that considering we haven’t talked in days?” Longest week of his life, too. He absently stroked his aching cock again, entranced by her voice.
“Well, here’s something interesting.” Her tone turned amused. “I would text you pictures and you’d decide which one you liked. It worked out very well.”