One To Watch(71)

“I know you do.” Asher’s voice was strained. “So you can understand why I’m so hesitant to bring cameras into our home.”

“Maybe this is stupid,” Bea murmured, “but do you think this could be a way for you to show Linus that you’re not afraid to tell the world how proud you are of him? That you think he’s perfect just the way he is?”

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all,” he said softly. He took Bea’s hand, and her heart swelled with affection for this new side of him she was discovering.

“It’s funny,” Bea said softly, “the way you form impressions of people. When we first talked on the boat, I thought you were such a snob.”

“You weren’t totally wrong on that one,” Asher deadpanned, and Bea laughed.

“Then at the museum, I started getting a better sense of who you are, and I started falling for you,” she continued, “but I didn’t know this huge thing about you, that you’re a dad—and a sole caregiver at that.”

Asher looked down. “I should have told you sooner.”

“No”—Bea squeezed his hand—“that’s not what I’m saying. What I mean is—you keep surprising me. And the more I learn about you, the more I want to learn about you. I know what a big deal it is to meet your kids. And I want to get to know them, to see what they’re like. But also, I can’t wait to see what you’re like with them. To get to know another new part of you.”

He pulled her closer to him, and she snuggled against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this—for me to meet them, I mean?” she asked, pulling away to look him in the eye. “I’ll understand if you aren’t.”

Asher met her gaze, his expression firm. “Bea, my readiness depends on yours. This isn’t just about meeting my kids—it’s about what comes after. With me, having a family one day isn’t some dim hypothetical; it’s a present reality. So especially considering what your visit could mean for Linus, the real question for me is, are you ready?”

“You’re right,” Bea agreed. “That is the question.”

“And what … is the answer?”

Bea shook her head. “I can’t know for certain, Asher. Not yet. Believe me, I wish I could.”

“I understand. But can I ask something of you?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Give it some thought before the ceremony tonight. And if you think the answer is definitely no—or even probably no—send me home.”

“That feels impossible.”

“To me too,” he said, hugging her close.

She buried her face in his scratchy sweater, breathing his scent, all pine and wool, and he ran his hand along her jaw, tipping up her chin so they could look at each other. He kissed her face, and then her mouth; he pulled her closer and closer until there was no space left between them, until all their questions and doubts were drowned out by the roar of the falls.



By the time they made it back to the riad, dusty and drained, Bea wanted nothing more than to eat some couscous, crawl into bed, and go to sleep, but that wasn’t in the cards: After a frustratingly brief shower, she had a consult with Alison about which gown to wear to the kiss-off ceremony, another two hours in hair and makeup, and an hour after that of recording direct-to-cameras about how difficult this decision was going to be—all the while genuinely worrying about what she was going to do.

To make her decision even tougher, all five of the men had recorded video messages for her, which she was made to watch on camera to capture her reactions. First was Sam, his jubilance completely infectious, his infatuation with Bea totally obvious.

“Bea! I haven’t seen you in two days, which is the worst!” He looked dramatically from side to side, as if to make sure no one was watching him, then leaned in close to the camera. “But I’ve spent the entire time thinking about kissing you in the hammam, which was the best.”

“Marin was right about him,” Bea murmured with a little grin.

Next up was Luc, stunningly handsome in a plain white T-shirt, looking straight into the camera with his smoldering eyes.

“My Bea, this week I have seen a new side of you, I think. Thank you for trusting me, for showing me your softness.”

He gave her a little smirk, and Bea felt a wave of nausea. Luc had thought this would be a private reference, but because of his unseemly brags to Asher, every single person watching would know he was talking about their night together. That night had felt like the foundation of a fragile trust between them, but now she found herself doubting every word that came out of his mouth. But the question remained: Was she sure enough that he was lying about his intentions toward her to send him home, despite the fact that she had more chemistry with him than any other man here?

Then came Asher’s video, which was perfectly Asher: “Bea, per our discussion, I know what a difficult decision this is for you. I hope you’ll decide to continue to pursue our relationship.”

It would be easy to write him off as cold or unfeeling, but Bea was starting to learn how to read his subtext, to see all the things he didn’t say, to trust in their connection and in him. Letting him go was unthinkable—but she owed it to him (and his children) to think about it all the same.