Greer held up a hand. “Stop right there. I don’t want to know.”
“Party pooper.” She looked over at Greer and then peered at something past her shoulder.
Automatically, Greer turned to look, and was surprised to see Asher in a pale gray business suit, making his way across the crowded restaurant to them. Well, that was odd. “How did he know I was here?”
“I might have checked in on an online app,” Gretchen said, patting her phone. “And I might have mentioned you were here with me.”
Greer shot her a look.
“And then I might have tagged you on Facebook. And him. And then when that didn’t get a response, I texted him.” She gave Greer a sunny smile. “You’re welcome.”
She had noticed Gretchen reaching for her phone several times, but she’d thought it was to text her fiancé, or to take notes on the cakes. “You’re the worst.”
“Or the best. You be the judge.” She gave Greer a sly wink.
“Just for that, I’m changing my vote from lemon cake to carrot cake.”
Gretchen’s eyes widened. “You whore.”
Greer chuckled and then took a nervous sip of her water. It wasn’t that she was upset that Asher was here. After all, Taylor and Loch were, and they’d discussed wedding stuff. It just made sense for another person in the wedding to show up and hang out. And Asher was good friends with Gretchen. And they were all in town.
So why was her face feeling so very hot at the moment? Greer’s cheeks felt like they were scalding.
Maybe it was because over the course of the last week, she’d had filthy phone sex with him. Repeated filthy phone sex . . . and now she was going to have to look him in the eye and act like nothing was weird.
Taylor and Loch returned to the table with four coffee cups a brief moment before Asher arrived. “Well, if it isn’t the three prettiest ladies in New York,” Asher drawled, taking a chair from a nearby table, flipping it around, and parking it next to Greer. He leaned in and gave her temple a brief kiss before straddling the chair.
“And Loch,” Taylor chimed in. “Don’t forget him.”
“I guess he’s pretty, but he’s not my type.” Asher leaned in to Greer and murmured. “How was that kiss, by the way?”
“An excellent greeting.” One that made her hormones go haywire, but otherwise excellent. She tried not to smile like an idiot because Gretchen was giving her a knowing look, and instead slid her coffee toward Asher. “You drink this for me. I’m avoiding caffeine.”
“I’ll make sure to roll it around on my tongue, just for you.” He gave her a sultry look before taking a sip.
Oh god, was she feeling awkward and flushed before? That was nothing compared to how she felt now. Greer was torn between wanting the floor to swallow her up and wanting to fling herself into his arms.
Luckily, Taylor rescued her. “You know what would go great with that coffee, Ash? Cake. Gretchen has samples and she’s trying to pick the best flavor. You should try them for her.”
Gretchen thumped the stack of samples back onto the table and offered Asher a fork. “If you tell me that you prefer the carrot, I’m going to punch you in your dirty mouth.”
***
Despite the initial weirdness of Asher’s appearance, lunch was wonderful. It was the first time that Greer felt she could truly relax in the last few weeks, and surrounded by laughing friends? It was invigorating. They ate lunch, then lingered for dessert, just so they wouldn’t have to give up their table. Taylor had a terrible sweet tooth and worked on a fudge brownie sundae despite the endless bites of cake they’d had earlier. They sipped coffee, talked, and then fought over the bill.
Greer barely paid attention as Asher put down his American Express Black and insisted on paying. At some point, his hand had migrated to a possessive clasp on her thigh under the table, and her entire focus had gone there.
It was a shame she had to go back to Vegas tonight. She was looking forward to another kissing lesson. Though they were officially on week two now, weren’t they? Which meant . . . foreplay.
Which got her all distracted again.
When it was time to leave, the women hugged and Gretchen gave Greer a list of notes so she could call the baker and discuss “the cake situation” on Gretchen’s behalf. She assured her friend that she would, and tried not to feel guilty that she’d let her father’s impromptu wedding usurp her time. Gretchen had said she didn’t mind, and Greer was only a phone call away. Didn’t make Greer feel better, though.
She shouldered her bag and turned to leave when Asher’s arm went around her shoulders. “Where are you going, beautiful?”
Greer glanced down at her phone screen. “I have to go to the airport and catch a flight back to Vegas, I’m afraid. That’s why I didn’t call you.” That among a few other things. She stifled a small yawn. Her entire body was exhausted from the day, but she’d have time to sleep on the flight.
“Tonight?” Asher shook his head and when they left the bistro, he steered her right instead of left, away from the waiting taxis. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t, huh?” She should have been irritated at his presumption, but instead, her heart was starting to race and Greer felt a surge of excitement.
“You’ve been yawning all afternoon,” he told her, and leaned in to brush a lock of stray hair off her face in a tender gesture that made Greer’s knees weak. “You’re carrying a baby and you’ve been running yourself ragged.”