Page 17 of Don’t Fall for the Billionaire
Chapter Seventeen
Charlotte
I gripped the edge of the sink while staring at myself in the mirror.
I couldn’t believe he’d actually said those words—a mistake.
As if what happened between us was some accounting error, or a wrong turn on an unfamiliar road.
I’d replayed last night in my head over and over again.
The way his mouth devoured me. The way his hands caressed me.
The way his lips meshed with mine left us both breathless.
But apparently, that was all just a mistake to him.
I needed to put it out of my mind and not think about it again.
The only issue was that he was impossible to forget.
The following morning, while I was putting coffee into two to-go cups, I smiled when Ashton walked into the kitchen wearing a pair of jeans and a navy-blue sweater.
“What? Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I’ve never seen you in jeans and a sweater before.”
“We are going to a farm to pick pumpkins and apples. I don’t want to ruin my good clothes.”
“Good call.” I smiled. “I didn’t know you even owned a pair of jeans.”
“Everyone owns at least one pair,” he said.
“I’m ready! I’m ready!” Eloise ran into the kitchen looking as cute as a button.
We climbed into Ashton’s Range Rover and headed to the farm.
It was the first time I’d been in a car with him that he had driven.
I couldn’t stop stealing small glances in between admiring the colors of the changing leaves.
His seat was slightly reclined back as he gripped the steering wheel with one hand while his arm rested on the center console.
He wore a pair of Aviator sunglasses, which heightened his sexiness factor.
As I sat there, I wondered if he’d ever done anything like this with Maura.
We pulled into the parking lot across the street from the farm, and the place was already packed with people.
“See. We’re not the only ones excited for fall.” I grinned.
“Personally, I think you’re all crazy.” Ashton smirked.
“That’s okay. I like my crazy.” I smiled as I climbed out of the car.
Eloise stood between us. I held one hand, and Ashton held the other as we headed across to the farm that stretched out in front of us like a painting.
The wooden barns were decorated with scarecrows, bales of hay, and pumpkins.
Families strolled by with baskets in their hands, ready to claim the fall season as their own.
I glanced at Ashton as we headed toward the orchards first, silently smiling because I was happy he was here with us.
“We need to get one of those flatbed cart things,” I said. “Oh, over there.” I pointed.
Ashton walked over, grabbed one, and pulled it over to us before entering through the gates of the orchard.
“Good morning. How many bags would you like to purchase for your apples?” the nice gentleman asked.
“I need at the very least a bushel. Do you have that? I’d prefer one large bin instead of individual bags,” I said.
“We have this right here.” He pointed.
“Perfect.” I grinned.
“That’ll be $100 dollars,” he said.
I glanced at Ashton. Sighing, he took his wallet from his back pocket and handed the nice man a hundred-dollar bill.
“Thank you. Have fun in the orchards.” He smiled.
“Don’t you think $100 for apples is a rip-off?” Ashton asked, pulling the cart behind him.
“It’s worth it for my apple pies.” I smiled. “You’ll see.”
Eloise let go of our hands and ran to a tree where an apple was hanging. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up and plucked it from the tree.
“Got it.” She smiled, holding up the red, juicy apple. “Can I eat it?”
“For what I paid, you can eat as many as you like,” Ashton said.
“We need to find the Granny Smith and Honey Crisp trees.”
“Why can’t we just get one kind? What’s wrong with these apples here?” he asked.
I stopped dead in my tracks. Ashton stopped, turned, and looked at me.
“What?”
“You can’t put any old apples in apple pies. They have to be the right ones. The perfect blend of tart and sweet.”
“Well, I’ve never made an apple pie before, so how do I know that?”
“You don’t. Hence the reason you shouldn’t talk.” I smirked.
As we walked through the orchard, stepping on small apples that had fallen from the trees, Ashton lifted Eloise to pick the apples that were higher up. Taking my phone from my purse, I snapped several pictures of them.
“Let’s get a selfie next to this apple tree,” I said.
Ashton held Eloise, walked over, and stood beside me while I snapped our picture.
“I think that’s enough apples for now. Let’s head to the pumpkin patch.” I grinned.
“Yay! The pumpkins!” Eloise jumped up and down.
Eloise skipped between Ashton and me as we headed toward the pumpkin patch.
I inhaled a breath because I couldn’t ignore the flutter in my chest. Being here, out of the city, I noticed Ashton was more relaxed than I’d ever seen him, making me once again realize how dangerously easy it was becoming for me to fall even harder for him.
After loading some beautiful pumpkins onto the cart, we headed inside one of the buildings where the smell of freshly baked donuts filtered through the air.
“This peach pie looks good,” Ashton said. “I think I’ll buy one.” He picked up the box with the pie in it, and I smacked his hand.
“What?” He looked at me.
“What is wrong with you? If you want a peach pie, I’ll make you one.”
“But I want one now.”
“There’s a crate of peaches over there.” I pointed. “We’ll buy some, and I’ll make you a pie when we get home. Although we may have to stop at the grocery store first to get other ingredients.”
“But this one is already made, and I can have a piece when we get home,” he said.
“Look. They sell single slices. Buy a slice to have when we get home, and I’ll still make you one, and you can tell me which one is better.” I smirked.
He picked up the plastic container with one slice of peach pie, and as I walked away, I rolled my eyes.
After making our purchases, we loaded up the Range Rover and headed back to the city.
“Can I help you make the pie?” Eloise asked from the back seat.
“You bet.” I turned and smiled.
I stepped on the stairs of the porch and directed Ashton on where to place the pumpkins.
“Ah, it’s perfect.” I grinned. “What do you think?” I asked Eloise.
“I love it. I love pumpkins and fall!”
“That’s my girl.” I hugged her.
While Eloise and I began to make a peach pie, Ashton grabbed a fork and sat at the island with his slice of a not-so-great-looking pie.
“How is it?” I asked.
“It’s okay.”
I silently smiled.
“Do you want a bite?” He held his fork up.
“No thanks. I only eat my own pies.”
His brows furrowed as he shoved the fork in his mouth. “You never eat anyone’s pie but your own? Seriously?”
“Yep.” I smiled.
He finished his piece of peach pie and went into his office to do some work.
“Good job with the pie crust.” I patted Eloise’s head.
After we assembled the pie and put it in the oven, Eloise didn’t look so well.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“My throat hurts and I’m really tired,” she whined.
I glanced at the clock on the stove, which read 7:00 p.m. Placing my hand on her forehead, she felt warm.
“Let’s take your temperature first before you get in the bathtub.” I picked her up and carried her up the stairs. “My gosh, girly. You’re heavy. I’m not used to carrying an eight-year-old.”
She sat on the toilet while I started running the bath water. I grabbed the thermometer from the drawer and placed it under her tongue. Once it beeped, I took it from her mouth and looked at it.
“101.1. Let’s get you in the tub, and then I’ll go get the Tylenol.”
I ran down the stairs, grabbed the children’s Tylenol from the kitchen cabinet, and just as I was leaving the kitchen, Ashton walked in, and I ran right into him.
“Whoa.” His hands gripped my arm.
“Sorry.”
“What’s that for? Don’t tell me Eloise is sick again.”
“Sore throat, tired, and 101.1 fever.”
“Jesus Christ.” He sighed. “She was just sick.”
“Well, she’s sick again. I have to get up to her. She’s in the tub.”
I flew up the stairs and into the bathroom. Pouring the dosage amount of Tylenol into the cup, I handed it to her.
“Drink up, buttercup.” I smiled.
She took her medicine like the champ she was and handed the cup to me.
“I want to go to bed, and I want my dad.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Let me wash you up first, and then I’ll go get him.”