Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(53)

Asher’s whole body stilled, and his jaw turned tight. He didn’t say a word. Not for a long while.

“You’re angry,” I observed after I couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

“Not angry, just thinking,” he replied tightly.

“Thinking about being angry,” I clarified.

His face softened. “No, Lily. Just thinking. About how I can educate you on how amazing and how far from weak you are. How I can make you see you’re special. How I can make you understand that there’s nothing that can make me think otherwise,” he murmured. “How you’re not a delicate flower, but the most beautiful, most resilient woman I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. A flower that gets trampled on by life, but somehow manages to emerge, unbruised, and more beautiful than ever after it.” He cupped my face. “You don’t need anyone to take care of you. I want to. It’s a privilege to be given a beautiful flower to nurture, to protect.”

The breath left me, but this time in a good way.

“I’m coming to the conclusion there’s not much I can say. Not right now anyway,” he continued. “I don’t think it’s about me saying anything. I think it’s about showing you. Every single day. Starting tomorrow,” he stated.

He moved so his back was against the wall, and I was buried in his chest once more. “That’s tomorrow. Which you need rest for. Now you sleep,” he ordered firmly.

Usually, I didn’t sleep, not after an attack. I’d lie awake terrified for hours, trying to remind myself breath was coming easy, my mind taunting me with how easy that could change. I prepared for that. To my utter surprise, I let sleep claim me, encircled in Asher’s arms.

Because I fell into oblivion so quickly, I didn’t notice Asher watching me. Didn’t realize he spent the rest of the night with his hand on my chest, only surrendering to sleep when the daylight kissed the corner of the room, chasing away the demons of the night.





“I know I said you needed your rest for today, but I didn’t plan to let you do anything that would require energy ... not until later at least,” Asher murmured, his arms going around my stomach and mouth at my neck. “I’m also not fond of waking up without you, I’ve had enough mornings of that,” he added on a grumble.

“You look so cute when you’re sleeping, I didn’t want to ruin it,” I replied, my eyes on the pan I was cooking breakfast in. “Plus, you said you wanted to get to know each other right? Getting to know me means tasting my world famous French toast,” I told him seriously.

Asher squeezed my waist. “I’m sure it tastes good, flower, but not as good as the breakfast I planned on having this morning.” His hand moved down to the waistband of my shorts.

I swallowed, doing my best to focus on the task at hand.

“And I’m not cute,” he continued, his hand tickling the top of my panties. “I’m manly and rugged, handsome if you must, but never cute,” he said firmly.

I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. I’d never really seen the playful side of Asher, I liked it. The juxtaposition of his muscled and hard exterior with such silliness was refreshing. It was also the first genuine laugh I’d had in a long time, in recorded memory it seemed.

Asher moved the pan off the stove and twisted me in his arms, hands going to my neck.

“I’ll forego my planned breakfast to hear that any day,” he told me quietly, his eyes serious. He stroked the corner of my eye. “See those light up.” His eyes moved to my mouth, which was still miraculously turned up. “You’ve got the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen,” he whispered. “I’ll move Heaven and earth to give you more reasons to show it to me.”

I blinked. “You have to let me finish our breakfast,” I muttered, not needing those feelings, the ones that came with those words. Not first thing in the morning. Not when they chased away the demons I’d been waking up with. I had to learn how to chase them away myself. Relying on Asher to do so would result in disaster.

He gave me a long look then leaned in and kissed me firmly. I expected him to move back and let me do my thing. He stayed, searching my face.

“You okay today, flower?” he asked with obvious concern, his large hand moving to my chest, letting it rise and fall with my breath.

I glanced down at how large and powerful it looked against my chest and gave him a shaky smile. “I’m fine.”

He gave me a look, his jaw hard and eyes plagued with worry, the playfulness of before long gone.

“It takes me a few days to get over the shock of it all, but physically, I’m fine,” I reassured him, placing my hand on top of his.

He searched my eyes, obviously looking for a lie. He nodded then kissed my head.

“I don’t want you hiding shit like that from me anymore. You’re feeling anything out of the ordinary, you tell me right away,” he commanded.

I nodded. It was the only way to get him off my case, I knew.

“Lily, I mean it. Anything, we’re going to the hospital,” he continued.

I wanted to roll my eyes. I also wanted to embrace the warm feeling that seemed to settle in my broken soul and start to jostle the broken pieces back together. The feeling of him taking care of me. Worrying about me. Caring about me.

I was lost in thought I didn’t notice he was staring at me expectantly, obviously waiting for a verbal response.