The Billionaire’s Fan (The Whispering Oaks Society)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jordyn

The evening was warm and inviting as we settled into a corner table at The Guard Steakhouse, with a rustic atmosphere and elegant decor to allow patrons to feel both at home and in opulence.

I couldn’t help marveling at my life at the moment. In front of me is a man that I’m falling hard for, a man who has captured my heart and is as big of a presence as he is. He is just a regular guy. To the world he is, as my best friend puts it, Asher fucking Knight. But to me, he’s just Asher. With each touch he gives me, I feel a flutter of excitement. Each look he gives me melts me. Each kiss makes me his.

While we peruse the menu, I glance up as I hear a familiar laugh. My eyes widen in surprise as I spot a familiar couple standing at the hostess stand - my parents. My father, a robust man with a warm smile and an easygoing demeanor, and my mother, a petite woman with kind eyes and an infectious laugh, stand hand in hand, looking at one another as if they were on their first date. This couple is the heart and soul of our small town’s restaurant scene, known and loved by many. And humble as well.

Following my gaze, Asher looks behind him. “Is that who I think it is?”

“Those are my parents,” I reply, my voice a mixture of surprise and awe at how in love they look.

Before we could decide on whether we were going to make our presence known, my father spotted us, said something to the hostess, and made their way over, their expressions lighting up with recognition.

“Jordyn! What a surprise!” Mom exclaimed as I stood to be enveloped in a hug. My father followed suit with a smile on his face.

“This is quite the coincidence,” he said, glancing at Asher with a curious expression. “And who might this be?”

Asher stands. “Mom, Dad, this is Asher,” I introduce. “Asher, these are my parents, Evelyn and Tom.”

My father extended a hand, his grip firm, yet friendly. “Nice to meet you, Asher.”

Asher shook his hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you too, sir.”

Mom’s eyes widened slightly as she took in Asher’s face, no doubt recognizing him immediately. “Asher… as in Asher from Knights Honor?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

“Yes, ma’am,” Asher replied with a hint of amusement in his tone.

My father looked between all of us, slightly puzzled. “Knights Honor? I’m afraid that sounds like a medieval story. I’m not familiar.”

Mom laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh Tom, it’s that band I like. You know, the one that I usually play while I’m in the kitchen.”

My father’s face clears with recognition, “ah, now I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you, and I’m sorry that I know nothing about you.”

“No need to apologize, sir. It’s rather refreshing. Would you like to join us for dinner?” Asher offers, gesturing to the empty seats at our table. “We’d love to have you.”

My parents exchanged a quick glance before nodding enthusiastically. “We’d love to,” Mom said, her eyes sparkling.

As they settled in, the conversation flowed easily. My father shared stories about some of our restaurants, his pride in the family business evident. He regaled Asher on late-night dough-making sessions and the secret family recipes that had made their pizzas so delicious.

My mom, meanwhile, couldn’t resist asking Asher about his music, her excitement barely contained. “So, Asher, what’s it like being on tour? Do you have any favorite cities you’ve visited?”

“Aside from Empire Bay,” Asher smiled, appreciating her genuine interest. “Touring is amazing, but it can be exhausting too. I think New York is in one of my top five. The energy is incredible.”

I watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and warmth. I reached for Asher’s hand under the table, squeezing it as my father talked about what he envisions for Pie Squared.

Throughout the meal, Asher was the perfect gentleman, engaging in lively conversation, sharing anecdotes about his life on the stage, and listening intently to their stories.

By the end of the evening, any initial nervousness I felt about this accidental meal had dissipated. As we said our goodbyes for the night, my father clapped Asher on the back, his smile wide. “You’re a good man, Asher. I want to make it known, however, that even though you’re some huge rock star, she’s our little girl and if you hurt her, I will come for you. Treat her well.”

“I will, sir,” Asher replied earnestly.

Mom gave me a knowing look and a warm hug. “You picked a good one, sweetheart. I expect a full report on how this all came to be, especially since you’ve been hiding him from us.”

As our parents left, Asher and I turned to one another.

“Well, that was unexpected,” I said with a laugh.

“It was,” Asher agrees, pulling me close. “But I think it went pretty well, don’t you?”

“It couldn’t have gone better,” I replied.

“I think they liked me. Do you think they liked me?”

We walk into his townhome, I place our jackets on the couch. While slipping off my shoes, I meet Asher’s hungry gaze. He comes closer to me, and gently presses his lips against mine. His touch skims my hip, and he tightens his hold, drawing me closer while deepening the kiss. He takes hold of my hand and leads me up the stairs, heading towards his bedroom. Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, he beckons me to sit next to him. As his hand rests on my thigh, he draws me in, his other hand on my jaw. I trace my hand along his chest briefly before rising to my feet.

I take a step forward, facing away from him. I glance behind me and my hands yank down my pants and underwear. I bend a little and give a little shimmy as my ass is bared to him. I look over my shoulder again and run my tongue against the top row of my teeth. He sucks in a deep breath as I pull my tank top over my head, then turn to him, fully naked. My hand moves up my body slowly as I palm my breasts and play with my nipples.

“Did you think that when I sent you the first text this would be where we would end up?” I ask, approaching him.

His eyes flick from my body to my eyes.

“Not a chance, but I’m so happy that the guy gave you my number and not his.”

“Tell me, what do you want to do with me tonight?” I ask.

“Shit. Where do I even begin?”