The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake (Page 49)

Greer was quiet and self-contained as they rode in the taxi together back to his place. He brushed his hand against hers and was pleased when her fingers laced with his. The only sign of nervousness on her otherwise impassive face? Her sweaty palm.

Hell, even that was adorable.

He was nervous, too. There was too much riding on this. He tried not to fidget as they entered his building and went up the elevator to his apartment.

When he opened the door to his apartment, Asher immediately wanted to close it again. The place was clean—he had a maid that came in daily and tidied things up—and it wasn’t as enormous or lavish as other apartments because he didn’t need the space for himself. What bothered him was that everywhere he looked, he saw old reminders of Donna’s touch: the couch she’d insisted upon getting, the rug she’d wanted to cover the hardwood floors, the ugly vase she thought would make a great centerpiece for the gigantic wooden table that dominated his foyer.

It felt wrong to bring Greer back here. He’d never paid a bit of attention to the furniture before now. Hell, he was a guy. He didn’t think about furniture, period. But seeing Greer walk in reminded him that he’d changed mentally since he and Donna had split, but like the photo lingering in his desk, there were signs of her here, too.

“Looks the same as it ever has,” Greer commented, setting her purse down on a nearby end table.

Had she been to his apartment before? He racked his brain, trying to remember. Ah, a holiday party a few years back. Shit. How long had he been overlooking the best thing in his life? How had he never invited her back in the years since? “It’s all going to change.”

She looked back at him, curious. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Hiring a decorator on Monday. I’m tired of the look here. Feels . . . old. Outdated.” Like it was someone else’s apartment entirely.

Greer gazed about the room, nodding slowly. She stepped into the living area and ran a hand along the hideous leather sofa that was so damn uncomfortable but had cost a small fortune. “It’s nice but I can understand wanting a change. What were you thinking of doing? Something more classic?”

“What do you think I should do?”

She looked back at him, startled. “Me? I’m not a decorator.”

“No, but you have excellent taste. I’ve seen the weddings you put together. You have a good eye for classy touches.”

The look of pleasure on her face at his words? It made him hungry for more. He wanted that. He wanted to see that look when she was under him. When he told her she was beautiful. When her body was clasping so tightly around his cock—

“Something warmer, maybe.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked back at him. “It’s a little cold the way it’s set up right now, but some warmer colors and a few softer pieces and it’d be very cozy and homey. Unless you want the place to appear bigger?”

“Nah. I like cozy.” He especially liked the way she said it. “I’m just one guy. I don’t need a massive place.”

She nodded and her hand went to her stomach briefly. “My place is pretty small, too.”

The baby. He’d forgotten about the baby. Much as he wanted to drop to his knees and press his face to that gently rounded stomach, he forced himself to hold back. “You going to upgrade once Junior arrives?”

She made a face at him. “Not Junior. And I hadn’t given it much thought. Actually, I haven’t had much time to think at all, lately.”

“That’s because your father’s an ass.”

Greer gave him another ghost of a smile and wandered toward his short hallway, where his office and bedroom were located. She paused in the doorway to the master bedroom, then chuckled. “Well, I suppose that answers my question before I ask it.”

“What question?” He followed after her, curious.

As he rounded the corner, he saw his bedroom was just as he’d left it this morning—a mess. Yesterday’s suit jacket was still tossed over a nearby chair, the bed was unmade, the ridiculous throw pillows that normally decorated it (another Donna thing he’d always hated and simply tolerated) on the floor. On the left side of the bed, his laptop, several printouts, and a wealth of Post-it notes were scattered.

“I was going to ask if you’ve kept busy lately, but I see that you have.” She looked over at him, and her lips twitched with amusement. “Taking your work home with you?”

He rubbed his head, rueful. “That wasn’t the plan. I hired a CEO to take over the running of things but he’s having trouble jumping in and taking command. This last week has been nothing short of hellish.”

“Guess all of this means you haven’t had much company lately?” She delicately nudged one of the pillows with her shoe. Her voice was light but she wasn’t looking at him.

“Why would I want company?” he said bluntly. “All I want is you.”

Greer looked up in surprise, her face soft.

“It’s true,” he told her. “You may not believe me yet, but that’s fine. I’m good with waiting.” You’re it for me and I don’t care how long it takes.

She bit her lip and glanced around his room, as if desperate to look anywhere but at him. “We should probably talk, Asher.”

Oh no. We should talk was usually the herald of something bad. He didn’t want to talk. Tonight, he wanted Greer in his arms, and they could talk tomorrow. He’d missed her too much to let this opportunity slip past him. “Did you really come up here with me to talk, Greer?”