Until November (Until, #1)(49)

“Oh,” I whisper, having nothing else to say.

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh, um, Kenton mentioned her,” I say, cutting wedges of cheese and placing them on the platter. Susan comes to stand next to me, moving my hair off my shoulder. I look over at her and she smiles.

“You have nothing to worry about.”

“Okay.” I smile and I know that it doesn’t reach my eyes, but I'm praying that she doesn’t say anything else. I really don’t want to cry.

“Talk to Asher about it if it’s bothering you.”

“I will,” I promise her, knowing that it’s time we talk about his ex-wife and why he got divorced.  It’s completely irrational that it bothers me, knowing that he loves me, but part of me wishes he didn’t have a past. Well, at least one that he was married in. Stupid, I know. I was engaged, but I love him more than I ever thought possible. And now that I feel this kind of love, I realize that I didn’t love my ex. He was a crutch. I wanted him so that I could start a life on my own, one where my mother didn’t have any control. I'm glad that it didn’t work out. I'm not glad that he slept with my mom, but our relationship wouldn’t have been fair to him in the long run.

“Hey, baby girl.” I turn and see my dad walking into the kitchen, my grandma following close behind him.

“Daddy.” I take two steps and his arms are around me. He tilts my face back with his hands on my cheeks.

“Are you okay? You look sad.”

“I'm fine. Just helping Susan.” I smile. I don’t want him worried about me. His eyes narrow, but before he can question me, Asher walks into the kitchen.

“Mike.” He pats my dad on the back. He looks at me and his eyes narrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I'm just happy.” I roll my eyes.

“You don’t look f*cking happy. You look sad.”

“Geez, did either of you stop to think that I haven’t had this before, and I'm just sad that I missed out on it for so long?”

“Shit,” Asher mumbles, rubbing his hands down his face. My dad’s eyes turn angry. Once again, I put my foot in my mouth.

“What did you do on holidays?” Dad asks. Crap, crap, crap. Me and my damn foot. When will I learn to keep it out of my mouth?

“I went to a friend’s. Can we please not talk about this and just enjoy tonight?” I ask softly.

My dad takes a deep breath while pulling my head to chest, kissing my hair. I lift my head and smile at him and see my grandma and Susan watching me closely.

“I'm going to help Susan finish these platters,” I say, pulling away from my dad and stepping in front of the platter I was making.

“Okay, baby girl. I'm going to go get a drink. We can visit when you’re done.” Crisis averted. Yay!

Smiling, I look over at him. “I’ll find you,” My dad smiles then and saunters out of the kitchen. If I had one wish, it would be for my dad to find a good woman to love. He deserves happiness more than anyone I know. Plus, my dad is good-looking. It confuses me that he hasn’t had a relationship since my mom.

“You sure you’re okay, baby?” Asher asks, pulling my back to his front.

“I'm fine,” I say, leaning against him.

“I'm gonna finish talking to Kenton. I got worried that someone else was trying to steal you away when you didn’t come back to me.”

“Go talk to him. I'm okay in here. When were done, I’ll find you,” I say, but I wanted to ask right then why he divorced Joan and why Kenton would ask if he needed to talk about her. But we would have plenty of time later to talk about her, and it was Christmas Eve. I really didn’t want him to be upset.

“Okay, love you,” he says against my ear and goose bumps spread across my skin. He squeezes me then I feel his presence leave the kitchen before I can tell him that I love him too.

“Nice save,” Susan says, making me jump.

“Um,” I mumbled, and she started laughing.

“Just promise that you will talk to him about Joan. I know that his history with her is bothering you.”

“Promise,” I say, smiling.

“Who’s Joan?” Crap! Of course, I forgot that my grandmother is here. She’s like a damn ninja. She’s constantly sneaking up on you when you least expect it, or she is so quiet that you forget she’s there and say crap that isn’t meant to be heard by her.

“Asher’s ex-wife,” Susan shares, and I watch my grandma’s eyes pop out of her head.

“Well, shit. That’s not what I thought you were going to say.”

“Grandma,” I scold her. She has the mouth of a sailor.

“Don’t take that tone with me. I’ve heard you pull up in that car of yours with that music you listen to, talking about bitches this and bitches that. And I know that your man cusses more in one sentence than I do in a day.”

Well, she had me there. Rap music did tend to use the word bitch a little too often, and Asher could curse even when there was nothing to curse about.

“Point taken,” I mumble.

“Why would you be upset that he had a life before you? I hate to remind you, but you were engaged.”

“You were engaged?” Susan gasps. Geez, this day started out so perfectly, and every time I turn around, someone is talking about something that I don’t want to talk about.