Always Mine (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 1) (10 page)

Later, after they were both dressed and Asher was packing her luggage into the trunk of his car, Emily excused herself to go back into her house. She said she’d forgotten something, but what she actually sought was a minute or two of privacy.

She stepped into her bedroom, closed the door behind her, and quickly called her best friend. “Celeste?”

“Hey, how is New Hampshire? Did it work out that Asher went with you?”

Knowing she was short on time, Emily blurted, “I slept with him, now we’re flying off to Paris because he wants to show me a museum there. Have I lost my mind?”

Celeste made a surprised sound. “Wait a second. Back this story up. The last time you texted me you said you were taking him up to Welchton to show him your museum. He was still undecided about what he was going to do. Does this mean he isn’t buying your land? Your museum is safe?”

Emily sat on the edge of her bed and buried her face in one hand. “He doesn’t know what he’s going to do.”

“Oh, Em. What are you doing?” Celeste asked, concern thick in her tone.

“I was hoping you could tell me. I want to hate him, but I can’t. He says things that make me angry, and he’s brutally honest about how important his company is to him. According to him, it’s all that matters. We couldn’t be more different. But then there are moments when we connect. I showed him my mother’s work and he got it. Not everyone does. And then there’s the sex. Celeste, I didn’t know it could be this good. At first I thought it had been so long since I’ve been with someone and that’s all it was, but this is different. I can’t explain it, but it is. He asked me to go to Paris, and I want to. I want to be young and free for just a couple days, and then I’ll come back and finish my museum. I can’t even believe I said that. See why I need you? Have you ever heard me talk like that? You’ve known me forever; what is wrong with me?”

Celeste sighed, and she took a moment to answer. “Nothing, Em. Listen, you’ve been through a rough couple of years. You lost your grandfather and then your mother. That’s huge. And you didn’t give yourself time to grieve. You threw yourself into finishing your mother’s project, and I know you said it made you happy, but you didn’t put aside any time for yourself. You haven’t dated anyone since your mother died. You’re lonely, Em. And Asher Barrington, God, I don’t know a woman who would say no to Paris with him. There is nothing wrong with you. In fact, I think you need this.”

“What happened to thinking he was dangerous?”

“I’m more afraid of what will happen if you don’t go. I’m going to say something that may upset you, but you need to hear it. Lately, I’ve been worried about you. You used to care about a lot of things, but over the past few years your world has become smaller and smaller until you can’t see anything past your grandfather’s house and this project. It’s not healthy.”

Hurt, Emily snapped, “I thought you understood why the museum is important.”

“I do, but I also worry about what will happen if it doesn’t work out the way you imagine it will.”

“You don’t think I can do this?”

“Stop. I’m on your side. You called me for my opinion, and I’m giving it to you. Go to Paris with Asher and forget about everything back here for a few days. I’m not saying you should trust him, but if being with him helps you find the Emily Harris I know, then you should go. You’ve always been a crazy artist, amazingly creative and so full of life. I remember wishing I could be as passionate about something as you were about your sculptures. I know the museum is important to you, but it’s not all you are. It’s okay to do things simply because you enjoy them. You’re going to finish what you and your mother started, Em. I know you will. But you need a life, too.”

If the advice had come from anyone else, Emily could have dismissed it and told herself they didn’t know her. She and Celeste had been as close as sisters since early childhood. Celeste spoke out of love, and her concerns helped Emily understand what she had been feeling. “I’ll text you updates.”

Celeste chuckled. “Every day or I’ll hunt you down over there.” She paused a moment, then asked, “Are we good?”

Emily nodded even though her friend couldn’t see it. “We’re good.” Emily smiled. “Hey, Celeste, guess what?”

“What?”

Giving in to the playfulness of the decision, Emily whispered in excitement, “I’m going to Paris.”

Leaning against the
side of the car waiting for Emily, Asher checked his messages. He answered several emails regarding a variety of projects. When he read an email from one of his men in Trundaie he decided to add a work component to his trip to Europe. He’d spend some time with Emily in Paris, then let her explore the city a bit on her own while he flew over to Trundaie, and then fly back with her when he’d completed his business. Things were working out perfectly.

His phone rang. Surprisingly, it was his brother, Ian. There weren’t many subjects on which he and Ian saw eye to eye, so they didn’t speak often. Usually Ian was the harbinger of family news. Hopefully it wouldn’t interfere with the closest thing to a vacation Asher had taken in a decade. “Ian.”

“Asher, Andrew called this morning. He’ll be in Boston near the end of April on a one-week leave. Mom wants everyone to stay over while he’s there.”

“I’m flying over to Europe today. I have a lot going on right now. I’ll be there if I can be.”

“This is important. You know how she gets around this time of year.”

Asher wasn’t willing to reopen the topic of why. More harshly than intended, he growled, “I’ll be there if I can.”

“Make it happen,” Ian said in a tone that reminded Asher of their father, which wasn’t surprising since Ian was Dale Barrington’s clone. Hopefully his political career fared better. “Hey, Mom told me to suggest you bring your girlfriend with you. I didn’t realize you had just one or that any of them would be the type Mom would like, but she’s talked about this one so much I am curious about her. Emily something. She sounds nice. What the hell is she doing with you?”

Asher glanced hopefully at the door of Emily’s house. Any reason for ending the call then would have been welcome. “Do me a favor and explain to Mom that she’s looking for fire where there isn’t even smoke.” It was a lie, but a necessary one. The less his family knew about Emily the better, especially if wedding bells were already ringing in his mother’s head. He never introduced the women he dated to his family, and he wasn’t about to start with Emily. He couldn’t explain how he felt about Emily to himself; he wasn’t about to try with anyone else.

“I’m not explaining anything. If dreaming about you getting married keeps her mind off the past, I’ll help her pick names for your fucking kids.”

“Thanks,” Asher said sarcastically. He understood Ian’s stance, but he wasn’t about to encourage it. Most of the time their mother was upbeat and active. During April of every year for the last twenty-seven years, though, she’d teetered on depression. As young children, he and his siblings had been afraid of the depth of her grief. As adults they understood her pain was from a loss that had an anniversary. “Tell her I’ll be there.”

“Should I say you’re bringing anyone with you?”

“No, because I’m not,” Asher said and hung up on his brother as soon as he saw Emily exit the door of her home. She shot him a tentative smile he found adorable, considering how intimately they knew each other. He pushed off the side of the car and met her halfway up her path. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

She searched his face before answering. “Yes and no.”

She didn’t volunteer more, and he didn’t push her to explain. He walked her back to the car and helped her in before walking around to his side. Once they were on a main road and headed toward his home, he took her hand in his and laid it on his thigh. It was a simple touch but one that elicited a strong reaction in him. She belonged with him, to him. He wasn’t normally a possessive man, but that was the only way he could describe how he felt around her. Although he’d read her background check, it only skimmed the surface of what he wanted to know. “You’ve never mentioned family beyond your mother and grandfather.”

Emily’s hand clenched on his thigh, then relaxed. “I don’t have any.”

“What about your father?” Asher asked. He didn’t like to think of her without a network of family. Although his family drove him crazy most of the time, they would be there for him if he needed them.

Emily pushed a wayward curl back into her ponytail. “My mother met him during the one year she went to college. She said they loved each other very much but his family didn’t approve of her. They saw her as a burden. They couldn’t have known her at all because she wasn’t—not one day of her life.”

The idea of any man tossing Emily and her mother aside filled Asher with an anger that had no outlet, so he kept it where he kept the rest of his emotions, locked deep inside. “Did you ever meet him?”

Emily’s hand shook slightly below his. “I thought about it once. I have his name, and I considered tracking him down, but I decided not to. If he loved my mother at all, he did a poor job of it. Why would I think he’d make a good father?”

The touch of sadness in her voice moved him in a way not much else did. He was a man of action who allowed himself very little time for deep reflection. In some ways, he and his brother Andrew were more similar than either liked to admit. When the then eighteen-year-old Andrew had announced he had joined the Marines, not many people in their circle had understood why he would choose to risk his life when he could have safely lived off his trust fund. Asher had understood. There had been a feeling of quiet desperation in their home when they were young that none of them acknowledged, but each of them overcame in their own way. Asher and Andrew had each gone to battle: Asher in the business world and Andrew on actual battlefields. Normally discussing family issues brought Asher back to a time when he’d had less control over his life, and therefore, he avoided those topics with his friends and most definitely with his female companions.

It was different with Emily. He felt her sadness as if it were his own, and it confused him. It took listening to her talk about her museum and her family for him to realize how little he cared about anything outside of work. He loved his family, but he didn’t go out of his way to see them. He was too busy. “Your father might not know you exist.”

Emily’s expression hardened. “Then shame on him. If he never cared enough to look in on my mother to make sure she was okay after he left her, then he doesn’t deserve to know about me.”

It was a harder stance than he would have imagined Emily taking on any topic, especially one of family. The way she passed judgment on her father left him feeling unsettled. Emily had strong ideas when it came to what was important to her and often her beliefs were in direct opposition with how he lived his life. “I would have thought you’d advocate forgiveness for all.”

Emily gave him an odd look. “Then I guess you don’t know me very well.”

He laced his fingers with hers. They were quiet for a moment and her comment hung in the air. He was used to women trying to impress or flirt outrageously with him. More often than not they talked about fashion or the latest gossip. Emily wasn’t like that. She was . . . real, and it took some getting used to.

Emily was the first to break the silence. “What about you? You’re the oldest of six? It’s hard to imagine you with your family.”

He raised an eyebrow as he asked, “Why is that?”

Emily waved her free hand in the air. “I’ve probably watched too much television. When I imagine a big family, I picture everyone sitting around an enormous table and teasing each other mercilessly.” She looked him over. “Laughing.”

“You don’t think I’m funny?” he asked with a straight face.

Emily met his eyes and said, “Tell me a joke and I’ll let you know.”

That was a part of Emily he enjoyed. She pushed him beyond his norm. Asher wasn’t known for his humor, but he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge either. “What makes every snowman smile?”

Emily shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Snowblowers.”

Emily’s expression remained as serious as his then she burst out laughing. “That is the lamest joke I’ve ever heard.”

Asher remembered thinking the same thing when Andrew had told it to him. “One of my brothers considers himself a connoisseur of one-liners, and his time in the Marines has only added to his repertoire.”

“Are you close to your brothers?”

“Not very,” Asher said, and in that moment the admission wasn’t one he was proud of. From the outside his family looked as close to perfect as any family could. His parents were still happily married. Each of his siblings had done well in their chosen careers. They hardly fought. They weren’t a big enough part of each other’s lives to have anything to argue about. It was his parents who pulled them back together again and again. Without his parents, Asher was reasonably certain interactions with his brothers and sisters would be nearly non-existent.

“Tell me about them,” Emily requested as if she could sense the conflict within him.

If anyone else had asked, Asher would have changed the subject, but he didn’t. The rest of the drive to the plane flew by as he fielded questions from Emily about his family. He usually kept his private life just that—private, but Emily’s interest was sincere, and he found himself sharing stories with her unlike he’d ever done with others.

He and Emily were settled into their seats on the plane when she started tapping the tips of her fingers and said, “Don’t help me. Let’s see if I can do this. It’s you, then Grant, Ian, Andrew, Lance, and Kenzi. Am I right?”

“You’ve got it.”

“Thank God your mother finally had that girl or you might have been one of a dozen.”

Asher frowned. “Why do you say that?”

Emily shrugged. “Five boys then a girl. I’m just guessing, but it makes sense that she’d stop there.”

“That wasn’t why my parents didn’t have more children.” As soon as he’d said it, he regretted it. He knew why his mother fought depression every year and why his family was quietly dysfunctional, but he preferred not to think about it. There was no avoiding returning to Boston, though, for the week his mother was planning. A week of collectively pretending they didn’t know why they were gathered.
Shit.