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“The proposal for your foundation.” There’s a bit of tentativeness in my tone, along with a bit of pride.
He reads aloud from the paperwork.
“The mission of Make a DIFFerence with Asher Nash is to inspire adolescents to make healthy life choices by educating them on the dangers of drug use and honoring the memory of Jacob Fitzgerald, who tragically lost his life at the age of seventeen to drugs.”
He glances up at me, and I see the emotion in his eyes as he looks back down at the paper to continue reading.
“Make a DIFFerence will host an annual 5K run in which all participants will declare who they’re running for. Asher is Doing It For Fitz, or DIFF. Who are you doing it for? The event will end with a fun zone full of activities and games focused on healthy choices, vendors who will educate and inform, local food vendors, live music, and an awards ceremony for the top runners and contributors. Fundraising will come in the form of registration fees, donations, sponsorships, and merchandise sales. The funds raised will support the Make a DIFFerence with Asher Nash Foundation to award scholarships to students either affected by or pursuing careers in addiction treatment and prevention. The DIFF5K will promote awareness, education, community, and support in the fight against drugs.”
He stops reading and sets the paper down on the table, and he’s silent as he looks out the window over the view of the ocean that I’m already starting to miss even though I haven’t left it yet.
“Say something,” I whisper.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head a little, and they’re a little foggy when he opens them. He keeps his attention trained out the window. “You couldn’t have known this, but Fitz was a runner. Helovedrunning, and he was always begging me to participate in every 5K, 10K, and marathon that came to town. He was adventurous. He made me go rock climbing with him, whitewater rafting, biking, hiking, you name it. But running was his passion.” His eyes move toward me, and he sets his handon top of the papers with my proposal. “This is perfect, Des. It’s incredible, and I couldn’t have even tried to put into words what you created here.”
My eyes fill with tears at his earnest approval. “Yeah?” I ask softly.
He nods, and he blinks a little as he takes a step toward me. He reaches around my waist and hauls me into him. “Yeah.” He lowers his lips to mine. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice raspy and deep, and I sink into him as he kisses me softly in the kitchen.
Our kiss turns a little more passionate, a little more urgent. It’s bonding us again in a way that’s stronger than we were before, all through the simple task of doing a job I told him I would do for him.
But there’s a depth to this kiss that’s new and different. It’s as if this kiss is a physical manifestation of the love he feels for me, and it’s on some level beyond hot. It’s an inferno as we reconnect in this way after way too long apart.
There’s no hesitation from either of us even though I felt a little hesitant yesterday.
I’ve had time to sit with his words. I’ve had time to feel the love he has for me. He checked in when he didn’t have to. He’s back already. He’s tending to my needs—and he was even before he found out I’m carrying his baby. He came all the way to San Diego on his week off just to buy me soup when he heard I wasn’t feeling well.
If that doesn’t scream that he’s really in this with me, I’m not sure what else would convince me.
He lifts me up into his arms, and he doesn’t stop kissing me as he carries me through my apartment and toward my bedroom. The papers are abandoned on the table, but we’ll get back to them.
For now, though, we have some making up for lost time to do.
He gently sets me down on the bed, and he climbs so he’s hovering over me, careful not to press his body weight onto me.
He kisses me like that for a while, and I feel the passion in him—a new fire ignited because there’s a bond growing inside me that will forever tie us together. As I told him, a baby won’t solve our problems. We’ll field complications, and we’ll have differing ideas, and it won’t be easy. But if we’re holding hands through it and communicating instead of running scared, then I think there might be a chance for us.
He shifts to move in beside me, and he pulls back from our kiss. He sets his hand on my stomach, and then his eyes meet mine.
“Is this okay?” he asks quietly.
I shrug. “I think so, but I’ve never been pregnant before, so I have no idea.”
“I do remember Lincoln saying pregnancy sex is the best sex, so I think we’re safe there. I just meant are you okay with doing this, or do you need more time? Do you feel okay, or do you still feel sick?”
My eyes soften as my chest bursts with love for this man. It’s the sweetest sentiment I could possibly imagine in the moment when surely he’s ready for this reunion as much as I am.
“Oh, yeah. I’m definitely okay for sex, cowboy,” I say.
“Cowboy?” he repeats, and I giggle as I think back to our first night together when I called him that.
“If you’d like, I can ride you like a cowgirl,” I suggest.
“Now that is a deal I will definitely take you up on.”
“And Asher?” I ask, and his heated eyes move to mine as the corner of my mouth tips up in a wicked smile. “There’s no need to be gentle.”
He smirks at me but then races to peel my shirt off and then my bra, and he does all the work as he strips me out of my sweatpants and panties, too. I’m lying naked on the bed,and he spends some time worshipping my body, sucking my tits between his lips as I writhe and moan beneath him at his touch, his mouth, his heat. He peppers kisses from the middle of my chest to my neck and back down. He moves past my tits on his quest down my body, and he leaves a trail of kisses on my stomach and to my pubic bone before he sinks lower, getting off the bed and kneeling on the floor as he adjusts my legs over his shoulders.
