Asher (Ashes & Embers 6)

“They’ve always been here. You bought them from an artist at a local craft fair right after we moved here.”

“They’re pretty.”

“So are you.” He gives my forehead a quick kiss and grabs my hand. “C’mon, I’ll show you the rest.”

He takes me back through the house, pointing out the laundry room, the door to the garage, and the way to the lower level where he tells me he has a music studio, lounge area, kitchenette, gym, guest suite, and bathroom. He promises to bring me down there tomorrow so as not to tire my legs with too many stairs tonight.

“Our bedrooms are upstairs, are you okay to go up there?” he asks.

“I’m a little tired, but I think I can do it. The therapist says I have to keep trying.”

Concern flashes in his eyes. “I’m going to stay right next to you with my arm around you, okay? I don’t want you to fall.”

Embarrassment flushes through me as we ascend the stairs painstakingly slowly. I grip the handrail tight with each wobbly step. True to his word, he stays glued right next to me with muscular arms and the patience of a saint.

I feel old and broken and very unworthy of his encouraging yet sexy smile and devoted puppy eyes.

Why is he so good? Is this just who he is? Or is this an act of sympathy or guilt?

I haven’t been very nice to him. Maybe because I woke up to a man who’s physically married to me but mentally married to someone else, and I don’t feel married to anyone at all.

But the more time I spend with him, the more I start to believe he might really care about me—that he really might be a genuinely sweet guy buried under all that hair and ink—and the more I feel drawn to him.

And the more jealous I get of old Ember. Which is totally crazy.

“You have an abnormally big amount of stairs,” I say when we finally reach the second floor, and I have to lean against the wall to catch my breath.

“The cost of high ceilings. I can call my architect and see if we can have an elevator installed.”

I stare at him, waiting for him to laugh at his joke, but he’s not kidding.

“Are you crazy? You can’t put an elevator in the house.” Who does things like that?

“If there’s a way to get one in here, I’ll do it for you.”

“No. I’m only going to get stronger, right?”

“You definitely are.”

I hope so. Struggling in physical therapy at the hospital surrounded by others like me wasn’t so bad. Doing it here in a beautiful home with a well-built sexy rock star hovering around is totally different. What if he sees my bony body shaking as I do leg presses and thinks I’m unattractive?

After a few moments of rest, he leads me down the hall. “This is the main floor bathroom, and this is Kenzi’s room.”

I step inside with a spark of excitement. Everything is pink and purple in this room. It’s bright, colorful, and girly. It screams fun, youth, and happiness. A stuffed bunny toy is perched in the middle of the bed. He’s been loved into a tattered, floppy, and faded state.

Did I give her that bunny? Did she sleep with it as a little girl? Did she hug it and cry for me?

“I love this room. Can I stay in here?”

“Here? No, your room is just down the hall—”

“But I like this one.”

“It’s Kenzi’s room, though.”

“I thought she didn’t live here?”

“She doesn’t. She lives across the street in her own house, but this is her room. She grew up here. She likes to come over and sit in here sometimes.”

“Why? She has her own rooms.” I wonder if Kenzi was spoiled being raised by a single man. Surely I wouldn’t have given in to this kind of room hoarding if I had been around.

He looks around the bedroom with an odd expression. “Because you decorated it with her when she was twelve years old. You painted it together, picked out all the furniture and bedding and curtains. You guys had a blast.”

I see. It’s a memorial of sorts. I wonder if that’s why I’m drawn to it.

“I won’t change anything. I like it the way it is. And she can still sit in it.”

“Em…it’s a kid’s room. There’s a beautiful room for you just down the hall, next to ours. I think you’ll like it.”

“Okay…” I say reluctantly as he touches my arm and gently leads me away. “But I like this one.”

“I’ll make you a deal. If you don’t like the other room better, you can have Kenzi’s room.”

I’m delighted to see the room he’s set up for me is beautiful. I’m sure he and Kenzi redecorated it in all soft grays and mauves with big, fuzzy pillows on the bed. All my favorites since I woke up. When Asher runs downstairs to get my suitcases, I peek into the adjoining bathroom, and my heart swells a little to see the safety bars installed next to the toilet and in the shower, along with the shower stool. On the vanity, two black gift bags with gold spiral bows are filled with makeup, hair dryer, brushes, soaps, and shampoos.