“I don’t have much time for fun anymore, but I enjoy working out. Sometimes, I go fishing as well.”
“Fishing? Really?” I can’t hide my surprise. There is no way this man enjoys fishing.
He chuckles at my shocked expression.
“What can I say? It’s relaxing.”
I laugh. “I just can’t picture you wearing a fishing vest filled with hooks and water boots.”
“No vest and boots, just shorts and a T-shirt. Or no shirt at all if it’s hot enough,” he remarks, and holy hell, he winks!
Images of him with no shirt on flow through my mind. What a sight that would be to see. The thought no sooner enters my mind when I feel my face heat and sparks shoot between my legs. Asher’s smug look says he knows where my thoughts went.
“Have you ever been fishing?” he asks, thankfully ending my embarrassment.
I nod. “My dad and I would go all the time when I was younger. He and my mom used to pick on me because I refused to put the worm on the hook. I could clean fish all day long, but putting that worm on the hook? No way.”
I shudder, then laugh in remembrance.
We talk for a few more minutes. Overall, not much is said between us, but it still feels like a lot because we’ve never talked about anything other than work. I’m taken aback when I realize for the last half hour, I’ve felt comfortable in his presence, something that’s never happened before. Although he’s still a very intense man, my nerves finally calmed, and I was able to relax and enjoy myself around him.
The waitress discreetly slips the folder with the bill on the table. I reach out to grab it, intent on paying for my portion, even though Eric said he told them to put it on his tab, but Asher seizes it before I get a chance.
“I was going to pay—”
“No,” he says, handing a matte black card and the check back to the waitress.
“No?” I ask, dumbfounded by his abrupt tone.
It softens as he looks back at me and says, “It’s my treat. You kept me company instead of letting me eat alone. It’s the least I can do.”
I don’t know why, but his words bring me happiness in knowing he enjoyed the time he spent with me.
He puts his signature down on the receipt and we both get up to leave. I don’t want the day to end. I’ve really enjoyed sitting with him and hearing him talk. Disappointment sets in when I realize I never really got the chance, or rather, I never worked up the courage to ask him any questions.
A sigh escapes my lips when I realize I may not ever get another opportunity.
“Something wrong?” Asher asks as we make our way out of the restaurant.
“No.” I smile up at him.
“Where did you park?”
I look around, pointing to the end of the block. “Just around the corner there.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” I protest. “It’s not that far.”
“I realize that, but I’d still like to walk you to your car. It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me if I didn’t.”
Well, okay then.
“Okay.” Not sure what else to say, I start walking in the direction of my car and he falls into step beside me.
“Nice car,” Asher compliments once we’re standing in front on my Monte Carlo.
“Thanks,” I say proudly. “It was my dad’s.”