Asher – Ashes & Embers Read online Carian Cole

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
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Taking a deep breath, he bows his head down and kisses my forehead. “I love you twice, Em.”

Now and forever.

Chapter Fifty-Four

The last person I was expecting to get a text message from on Christmas Eve is Redwood. I haven’t had any contact with him since Ember told me he was the one who helped her with her transformation, and I was hoping he was gone for good.

No such luck.

Redwood: Merry Christmas, Mr. Valentine.

Me: Merry Christmas.

Redwood: How’s your wife? It’s been almost a year since she woke up. I’m sure she’s barely recognizable now. LMAO.

Me: Not funny. I want you to stay away from her. I’m not going to tell you again.

Redwood: Ooh. Threats excite me.

Me: Not surprised. Leave her alone.

Redwood: Don’t worry. I have my own woman now. If she’d just stop trying to escape, I think we’d be really happy together.

Me: I don’t want to hear about your victims on Christmas.

Redwood: Fine. I’ll give you a break since it’s a holiday. Give Ember my love. Maybe we can double date someday. I’ll be in touch.

Refusing to let him muck with my holiday cheer, I delete the texts and turn toward the click, click of Ember’s heels coming down the hall.

“Holy cannoli,” I say when she comes around the corner of the foyer. “You. Are. Gorgeous.”

My heart thuds at the sight of her. She’s all legs, curves, and luscious lips.

Meeting her at the center of the marble floor, I encircle her waist, needing to touch her, to remind myself she’s real.

“Do I look okay?” she asks nervously.

Blowing out a low whistle, I let my gaze travel over her inch by inch. Perfectly tailored black leather skinny pants. Black Louis Vuitton heels. Silver metallic silk blouse under a fitted black blazer. Glossy red nails and lips. Hair framing her face in dark, loose waves.

My favorite perfume.

My wife is hot as hell.

“Babe, you’re so beautiful, I can barely breathe.”

Her lips are begging to be kissed, and it’s killing me not to, but I refuse to let myself smear her makeup.

Not to mention, if I start kissing her, I won’t be able to stop, and we’ll never make it to Gram’s house.

Can Christmas Eve be postponed for a day? No? I didn’t think so.

She touches my shoulder and looks at me exactly like I’m looking at her—like she wants to tear my clothes off right here in the foyer.

“You look so handsome.” She runs her hand along the collar of my black dress shirt. Her nails graze the side of my neck, pushing my self-control even further.

“I don’t think you’ve ever seen me in anything except T-shirts, have you?”

“I’ve seen you shirtless,” she teases. “But now I can’t wait to see you on our wedding day.”

Ember was a beautiful bride at eighteen, but, man, I can’t wait to see her in a wedding gown as a grown woman.

I grab her hand and hold it tight in mine. “I keep thinking about what you’ll look like in a wedding gown now.” I pull her closer and whisper in her ear, “And what you’ll look like when I slowly take it off you.”

Gram’s house is already buzzing with activity when we arrive. My parents, siblings, and cousins are already there with their significant others. Kenzi, Tor, and Tia are on their way. Laughter, chatter, and holiday music fill the house along with the delicious aroma of dinner and dessert cooking.

As we say hello to everyone, Ember appears overwhelmed, but happy, being around so many people at once.

I wish with all my heart she could remember that once, a long time ago, this house was her home. She sat on that very couch, under a crocheted afghan, watching old black-and-white movies with Gram. Kenzi sat on that counter as a toddler, mixing cookie batter, asking a hundred questions.

On the drive here Ember mentioned being worried about how my family would react to her face being different. As I expected, not one of them made a comment or looked at her strangely. All the girls, however, gushed over her big, new diamond ring and then proceeded to bombard her with wedding ideas.

“I married your mother twice,” my dad says as we stand to the side sipping eggnog. “Somehow, the second time meant even more than the first.”

“I feel the same. I didn’t think it’d be possible, but I love Ember even more now.”

“Going through rough times can make or break people. The older we get, the more we appreciate what we have and what we wouldn’t have.” He stares at my mother across the room. She looks elegant as ever in a red dress, holding Tia on her lap. “I think the hardest loves can be the best loves.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

It’s true. Fighting for our love, fighting for each other, has brought us even closer than we were before.


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