Finding Asher

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Asher

I can't say that I'm not used to having a routine. I've spent the last five years of my life on a schedule. Only this time when I wake up, I don't have to worry about being the first one in the shower to avoid things that innocent eyes should never see.

It's nice to wake up, eat what I want for breakfast, take a shower on my own time and drive to a job where I get to spend the day with probably the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on.

It's only my second week working at Sugar Baby's, but Ashley and Logan have made me feel right at home. When I got out of prison, I was worried about being accepted back into society without carrying around the scar of my past. Criminals tend to be labeled for life and I consider myself lucky to have this chance.

I'm still waiting to mess up and ruin everything like I always do, since it's in my nature. I won't do it intentionally of course, but I feel like this is all too good to be true and it's just a matter of time before something happens to screw it up.

I pull up to the shop, but Ashley's car isn't parked out front. Since I don't have a key, I sit and wait for her to arrive.

About fifteen minutes after the shop was supposed to open, Ashley pulls into the parking spot next to me and begins retrieving groceries from her back seat. I quickly get out to help her, but she's already walking towards the front door by the time I get to her.

"Need a hand?" I ask lamely.

She turns around and opens her mouth to speak, but before she has the chance, the bottom falls out of the brown paper bag she's holding, and flour and eggs go everywhere.

She stares at the mess on the ground with her mouth hanging open. I'm tempted to laugh, but judging by the look on her face, she's probably had a bad morning.

I stoop down and begin cleaning up the mess and eventually she joins me.

"I'm sorry," she sighs. "It's been one hell of a morning."

I drop the last of the eggshells into the trash can on the side of the street and reach out my hand to help her up. She gladly takes it and gives me a grateful smile.

"Don't worry about it."

She unlocks the door and takes what's left of the groceries to the kitchen. She emerges seconds later with her eyes full of tears. Normally, I'm not one to get involved in other people's problems, but for some reason, it bothers me to see her like this. I don't know her that well, but I can tell when someone's had enough.

"Is everything okay?" I ask.

She laughs, but it's half hearted. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just woke up late because my alarm was set to PM instead of AM, then I realized I never made a grocery run and then...well, you saw the rest."

"It's okay to have a bad day, you know. If there's anything I can do to help, please tell me."

She flashes me a genuine smile, but it's gone way too soon. "Trust me, you've made my life so much easier just by being here. I don't know how I ever got by without you."

While she probably doesn't know it, her words make my heart beat a little faster. Surely they didn't have any alternative meaning behind it, but it makes me feel good to know that I'm making things easier for her.

"I'll preheat the oven. If there's anything else you need, you know where to find me," I tell her before disappearing into the kitchen.

The rest of the day goes on without a hitch and between the two of us, we have things running smoothly by the end of the day. When it's close to closing time, I help her box up leftovers in the front even though she never asked for my help.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm helping you."

She doesn't say anything, but I don't miss that breathtaking smile. After we're done with everything, she sits down on the leather sofa in the corner of the shop and kicks her feet up.

"Like I said, I have no idea how I ever did this without you." She chuckles.

I sit down next to her, or her feet rather. I'd love nothing more than to take off her shoes and give her the best foot massage she's ever had, but I'm guessing it's a bit too soon to make a move that bold.

"What did you do before? Like before..."

"Prison?"

She grins bashfully. "Yeah..."

"I had a few jobs here and there, but nothing I'd consider a career."

She nods, and I'm afraid she's going to go further, but thankfully she doesn't. While I feel comfortable around Ashley, there's still some things I'd rather her not know about me.

"Have you always done this?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Sold pot? No. Baking? Yes. I guess you could say baking is and always will be my career. But I can't complain. I love doing it and it's nice to be my own boss."

I nod in agreement. Baking doesn't seem like something that I'd enjoy doing every day of my life but working alongside someone like Ashley would make any job fun. Even cleaning out an elephant cage at the zoo. "I've never had a girl boss before."

"Girl boss?" she chuckles.

"You know what I mean."

"That sounds like the title of a cheesy Spice Girls song."

We both share a laugh and I get caught up in the sound of her laughter and her perfect smile. She must notice since her cheeks turn pink.

"I've been thinking of getting a tattoo," she says after a bit of awkward silence. "Can you believe I don't have one?"

I shrug. "Lots of people don't."

"When did you get your first one?"

I have to think about it for a while. Only one of my tattoos really mean anything and the rest are just a bunch of random s**t I've accumulated over the years. "I must've been eighteen. I only had a few before I went to prison. My cell mate was a tattoo artist and he did most of these," I say looking down at my arms.

She looks like she wants to say something and I'm praying it's not about my time in prison. I've already said enough about that for one day.

"If I get one, I want it to mean something. I haven't been able to think of anything significant enough to make it a permanent part of my body." The second the words leave her mouth, she looks up at me in horror. "I mean, not that... having a lot of tattoos is a bad thing. I actually really like them."

She brushes her hand over my arm, and it sends a shiver down my spine. "You look like such a badass."

I laugh. Really laugh. I don't think I've ever met a girl as witty and hilarious as Ashley. And her sense of humor is just the icing on the cake.

The perfect, amazing, beautiful, sexy cake. And I want the cake. The whole cake.

"Is that a good thing?" I ask with a smirk.

"Definitely a good thing."

"So... you're saying you have a thing for bad boys?"

"Doesn't every girl?" she says, swinging her legs around and sitting upright on the sofa.

I waste no time closing the space between us. She doesn't seem to mind. In fact, it seems like she wants me to be closer to her.

"Well, I'm no bad boy, Buttercup. I'm an angel."

She rolls her eyes, but never stops smiling. "That's what they all say."

I nudge her with my shoulder, and she looks up at me. Her eyes are amazing. I've found that I can't look at her for too long without getting lost in them. Her lips part slightly and the thought of kissing her plays through my mind. I'd never be brave enough to make a move like that, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't love to know what those perfect lips taste like.

"I can be bad if you want me to be," I say, breaking the silence between us.

I know I'm pushing a little, but she's not giving me any reason to stop. Maybe I should just go for it and kiss her before I have the chance to talk myself out of it.

We're interrupted by the bell on the front door and a tall, slim guy with stringy dark hair walks in. Ashley jumps to her feet like someone lit a fire under her ass.

"Richard....hi."

He looks between us and furrows his brows. "Hey. Who is this?"

Ashley looks over her shoulder at me and back at Richard. "Um, this is Asher. He's the guy I hired a couple of weeks ago."

Richard sizes me up and crosses his arms over his chest. From the jealous vibe I'm getting from him, he must have a thing for Ashley too.

I stand to my feet next to Ashley and extend my hand. "Nice to meet you, Richard."

He shakes my hand, but it's clear he in no way wants to be friendly.

"Richard installed the security system here at the shop," Ashley says.

"And... I'm also her boyfriend," he says, slinging an arm over her shoulder.

No way.

This guy is so plain and boring, there's no way someone as amazing as Ashley could ever go for a guy like him. Can she?

She smiles at him, but it's forced. She looks anywhere but at me and nervously stuffs her hands into her pockets. "Well, I guess we can go ahead and lock up. Richard, I'll meet you outside."

She starts towards the kitchen and Richard gives me one last look before going back out the front door.

I stand in the same place for a few more seconds trying to make sense of how this guy got his claws into someone like Ashley. There's nothing special about his looks, his job is boring, and he seems like a d**k. Which ironically is short for Richard.

Judging by the jealousy in his eyes and his need to claim Ashley in front of me, he even knows he's not good enough for her.

But then again.... neither am I.

"Thank you for all you did today, Asher. You were a life saver."

Although I nearly jump out of my skin, I smile and nod. "Anytime."

"And... sorry about Richard. He's just... insecure sometimes."

I chuckle humorlessly. "What do you see in that guy anyway?" It's a blunt question, I know, but I have to ask it for my own sanity.

Oddly enough, she doesn't miss a beat. She shrugs and looks down at her feet. "I guess he's... reliable."

"Well, if you want reliability, just buy a Chevy."

She laughs. "I'm more of a Volkswagen girl."

"So you do have a flaw."

She gives me a bored look. "Look, I know Richard is a little...quirky... but he's a good guy."

"But I thought you liked bad boys, Buttercup?" I ask, taking a step closer to her.

She tries to hide her blushing cheeks, but she's not quick enough. "Good night, Asher."

She turns to leave, but before she makes it to the door, she stops. She turns to me with the most adorable smirk and holds her index finger up. "And you don't get to call me that until we sell a hundred cake pops. Don't get too cocky...bad boy."