The Billionaire's Offer

Chapter 40

Asher

The salty breeze carries the scent of the ocean through the open windows of the beach house Max arranged for me, a welcome reprieve from the sterile hospital air.

I watch Emma from the kitchen as she gazes out at the waves, her expression a mix of tranquility and lingering worry. We've been through so much in the past few days, and I can't help but feel a surge of protectiveness towards her and our unborn child.

My shoulder and arm ache from the cast and the stitches, but I push the discomfort aside, focusing on making this weekend as relaxing and enjoyable for Emma as possible. The doctor had assured us she's fine, but I can't shake off the worry completely. Not after everything she's been through.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask as I walk up to her, wrapping my good arm around her waist.

"How did you find this place?" She turns to me, her eyes searching mine. "We were together at the hospital the whole time."

"Max helped me," I say, holding her a bit tighter. "Do you like the house?"

"It's beautiful..."

"It's for sale."

Her eyebrows arch in surprise.

"We could buy it..." I bite my lower lip, enjoying the way she looks around at a loss.

"We are in North Carolina, Ash." She chuckles softly. "It's too far from home."

"We got here in less than two hours..." A wide grin spread across my face as I envision the incredible memories we will create with our kid in this little piece of heaven.

Emma chuckles, her gaze softening as she looks out at the ocean. "I do love it here."

"That's all that matters," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I want us to have moments like this, away from everything else."

"I know..." Her voice is a whisper. She meets my eyes, gratitude, and uncertainty mingling in her gaze. "It's just... I can't stop thinking about what my father said. About you being accused of murder. It's like a dark cloud hanging over us."

I sigh, my own worries resurfacing. It does feel like a shadow that follows us, cast by the unsettling accusations her father threw at us in the hospital. He claimed I killed Zack, a malicious attempt to sow doubt and fear.

"Emma," I say softly, taking her hand in mine. "You know what your father said isn't true. He's just trying to get under our skin."

She nods, but I can see the uncertainty in her eyes. "I know, but it's still unsettling. What if..."

I cut her off gently, not wanting her to spiral into unnecessary anxiety. "There are no 'what ifs,' Emma. We're here, together, safe."

Emma tries to pull away, heading towards the couch, but I have other plans. I tug her gently back towards me, pulling her onto my lap so she's straddling me. She protests, trying to scold me for overexerting myself, but the way she fits against me, her warmth and softness, erases any trace of pain or discomfort.

"Asher, you're hurt..." Her voice trails off as I silence her with a lingering kiss, a silent reassurance that we're okay, that nothing else matters at this moment but us.

She melts into the kiss, her fingers threading through my hair, holding me close. It's a moment of intimacy and connection, a reminder of the love and passion that binds us together through every trial and adversity.

When we finally pull apart, Emma's cheeks are flushed, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and affection. "You're impossible," she murmurs, but there's a smile playing on her lips.