Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
I used to be, anyway. Till Asher.
I couldn’t figure out what it was about him. I shifted my toolbox from one hand to the other, clandestinely watching him as he fussed with the collar of my oversized T-shirt.
He seemed nervous again. Maybe he was wondering how to explain his wardrobe change. Nah, that couldn’t be it. He said his mom was cool and smart and nice. This sudden agitation didn’t make much sense.
When the elevator dinged a moment later, Asher took a deep cleansing breath and slowly exhaled, motioning me to follow him.
He marched to the second door on the left and froze. “I forgot to take Benadryl. And I didn’t bring flowers.”
I knocked for him. “Why do you need Benadryl or flowers?”
“Sam, the cat. And flowers are a polite show of respect.”
I rubbed his shoulders and massaged his neck. “Hey, relax. I’m sure your mom doesn’t expect you to—”
“Hello, my darling!”
We started when a beautiful blonde opened the door, pulling Asher into her arms for a mega-mom hug. She kissed his cheek before turning to me.
“Mom, this is Blake. He’s going to build your bookcase.”
“And Ash is going to help,” I added, shaking his mom’s hand.
“Wonderful! I see you’re dressed for the job,” she teased, gesturing to his borrowed tee.
“I experienced a minor wardrobe malfunction,” he reported, adjusting his glasses. “Truthfully, I might be more of a hindrance than a help to Blake. If you have any other chores you’d care for me to do, I’d be more than happy to assist you.”
I cocked my head, observing Ash and his mom with curious fascination. His mannerisms were crisp and formal, while hers were…not. I didn’t get it.
Then again, family dynamics were notoriously wonky. Take me, for example. I came from a relatively stable clan with two hardworking, supportive parents, but that didn’t keep my sister from being a control freak and hell, I knew I was a mess. I had trust and failure issues, not to mention a major fear of isolation. I was a walking mass of contradiction and no one fucking knew it.
But Asher was nothing like me. He was brilliant and confident. And while he admitted to being a perfectionist, it didn’t make sense to put that kind of pressure on himself for someone who clearly didn’t want or expect him to make himself crazy.
“Thank you, Asher, but I don’t have any other chores. Are you boys hungry?” she asked, moving into the airy great room. “Or can I get you something to drink? Coffee, juice, water?”
“Coffee would be great. Thank you, Mrs. Fitzgibbons.”
She flashed a pretty smile. “Call me Jillian. Ash, how about you?”
“I’m fine, but I’ll make the coffee. I insist.”
“O-kay. I’ll show Blake the bookcase in question.”
He darted in front of her and raised his hand like an overzealous kid in a classroom full of underachievers. “I can do that too. I can put the coffee on and escort our guest. I’ll only be a moment.”
He was gone before his mom could protest.
A troubled expression flitted over her face. She hid it quickly and moved to the island. “Tell me about yourself, Blake. Are you a handyman by trade or do you—”
“He’s an educator and a coach, and he’s currently working toward his master’s,” Ash intercepted. “Blake is very smart.”
I set the toolbox on the floor and shot a stern look his way as I slid onto the barstool next to Jillian’s. “Thanks, but I got this.”
He made a zipped-lip motion, then stood in front of the coffee machine with three mugs at the ready.
Jillian pursed her lips in amusement, arranging her voluminous skirts. “Good luck on your master’s. I know that can be grueling.”
We sipped coffee and chatted for a while about school curriculums. Asher seemed more like himself. He leaned against the counter, sharing his views about common core math and science textbooks. When his mom said she had a few errands to run, he assured her that he’d take care of everything. And I do mean everything.
No kidding…he offered to water her plants, feed her cat, and bring in her mail.
“That won’t be necessary. Sam is in my bedroom. He’ll be fine, so don’t worry about him. I appreciate you doing this, Asher. And a huge thanks to you, Blake. I’ll have to take you boys out to dinner to thank you properly.” She kissed Asher’s cheek and reminded him to lock up before pulling her purse over her shoulder and heading for the door.
I waited till we were alone to ask the burning question. “What’s going on here?”
“What do you mean?” Asher stacked our mugs and carried them to the kitchen sink.
I followed him, turning off the faucet just as he turned it on. “You’re going overboard to please your mom for no apparent reason. It’s not her birthday, is it?”