did everything backward, but seeing my ring on your finger makes me think we did everything just right,” he says with that smile he reserves just for me.
“Asher,” I whisper, his name on my lips so filled with emotion it's impossible to miss.
“Marry me, Skittle. I know we did it once already, but this time I don’t want to miss a second of you becoming my bride,” he tells me softly, sliding a narrow wedding band on my finger behind the engagement ring. This one is platinum and studded all the way around with a variety of precious stones. It looks like a small rainbow wrapped around my finger and is a big step up from the gumball ring that started this all.
“Be mine—” he orders, but I cut him off.
“Yes,” I sob, throwing myself into his arms as he stands, forcing him to go back on one foot.
“I have so much to talk to you about, things that need to be said, but it will have to wait until after the gala or Graham might sneak in and murder me in my sleep,” he jokes, but I don’t miss the look of apprehension cross his face.
I chuckle and dry my eyes. Standing tall, I turn and check my face in the mirror. It's a little red from my tears but nothing too bad. Looking back up at him, I take a deep breath and smile wide.
“I'm ready when you are, handsome.” I feel the butterflies take flight when he lifts my hand and places a kiss over my rings before turning my hand over and kissing my inner wrist.
“Let's go before I decide to take my chances with Graham’s wrath,” he says gruffly, tugging me out into the sitting area.
“Do you have everything you need?” he asks.
Looking around, I grab my little black purse off the island countertop and my wrap from the stool beside it. I let him maneuver me out of the apartment toward the elevator in a daze, my impossibly high purple heels making a clicking sound across the marble corridor.
As soon as the elevator doors close behind us, he pushes me up against the wall and takes my lips in a searing kiss, leaving my already frazzled brain in need of a serious reboot. He pulls away as the door opens, looking as put together as always, whereas my befuddled brain is struggling just to remember how to do the walking and talking thing.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sloan. You look very snazzy tonight,” Sam greets us with a big smile from behind his desk.
I snap out of my Asher daze and smile at Sam in thanks. I’m surprised to see him tonight; he usually works the day shift. We have a new doorman named Thomas, who is much nicer than Russ was, who does the night shift.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight, Sam.” Not that I’m complaining, Sam is my favorite.
“Ah, I’m only covering Thomas for another hour as his daughter has a ballet recital he didn’t want to miss,” he answers.
“Oh, how cute.” I remember Thomas mentioning he had a nine-year-old dance-obsessed daughter. “We are going to a gala,” I tell him, making Asher look down at me with amusement as I chat away to his staff. “I'm a little nervous,” I admit.
Sam shakes his head in that fatherly fashion of his and comes around the desk to talk to us. “Hush now. Mr. Sloan here is going to have to beat people off you with a stick all evening,” he states, making me blush and Asher laugh.
I lean forward and press a kiss to Sam’s cheek, thanking him. This time, he’s the one who flushes.
“Thank you, Sam,” Asher says as Sam tips his imaginary hat at us.
“Have a good evening,” he calls as Asher leads me outside to the limo waiting for us.
Lifting the hem of my dress, I climb inside and slide across the seat, making space for Asher to climb in beside me.
“Hey, Davis,” I greet the man in question as he pulls away from the curb.
“Good evening, Mrs. Sloan, how was your day?” he asks conversationally.
I turn to look at Asher, who is watching me with such intensity my breath hitches.
“My day was awesome, thank you for asking,” I answer but my eyes are all for Asher. “The best day ever,” I whisper.
Twenty-Eight
Asher
We are cutting it close timewise, but seeing the look of happiness on Linda's face, I couldn’t care less.
I was surprised earlier—I never expected her to tell