by Elle Luckett
“Is it, though?”
“Maybe I want it to be.”
“Then that’s on you, girlfriend.” Lucy rocked into me and smiled. “One day, you’re gonna get out of your own damn way. You deserve to be as happy as that little girl is. Even if it’s not Asher. One day some guy will come into your life, and he’ll be everything that’s right, and you’re going to hold Ashleigh up as a shield without really knowing you’re doing it.”
The not Asher made me more uncomfortable than I wanted to admit. Lucy was a psychiatrist and always gave her honest opinion on a situation. She also took my deflection for what it was.
“I’m not paying you for this psychoanalysis.”
Shooting me a knowing smile, she started arranging the flowers we’d dropped into the vase with a small flourish. She glanced over to where the story of Frozen was being explained by Ashleigh, and she smiled wistfully.
“This session is on the house. You get a family discount.” Pausing, she flickered her glance to me, her smile turning conspiratorial. “Shh, Momma’s coming.”
As we cleaned up the mess we’d made with the flowers, my mom started the potato salad on the other side of the island. Her eyes were for the man and child now both sitting on the floor and chatting animatedly. Whatever she felt about Asher and his damn family this morning was long gone. She was as charmed as Ashleigh was.
“You like him.” It came out as an accusation without heat, but the blush rose in my momma’s cheeks, giving her away.
“What’s not to like? Would you prefer that I was rude to him?”
“I’m… I just… No. Not at all.”
“He thinks very highly of you.”
“He’s aware of his audience.”
“Don’t be sore, you know I’m on your side. You’re being ornery and mean because you don’t know how to feel. If you’re looking for an audience to convince you he’s the bad guy, your father and brother are better suited.”
“I’m not—” I cut myself off and huffed out a breath, side-eyeing Lucy again. “You two have to stop spending so much time together.”
“You want me to talk to your daddy?” Mom asked, heading to the fridge to dig out everything she needed to cook. “He promised to be on his best behavior. I don’t know what got into him and your brother.”
“Momma, you’re so full of shit, your eyes are brown.”
She sputtered for a moment before throwing her head back and laughing. Lucy chuckled beside me while I shook my head in wonder.
“Momma!” Ashleigh’s delighted call had me shaking my head and turning my focus to her. “Can I show Asher Frozen?”
“Baby, I don’t think Asher came over to watch movies with you all day. Maybe later if he can stay, okay?” Asher smiled at me and nodded in agreement. It would be hard for him to leave her. He was already smitten.
“You have an hour or so before we eat, baby. If you need to go to the park, we’ve got this,” my mom offered quietly. Somehow she’d read my mind.
“Thanks, Momma.” She nodded, and I glanced back to where Ashleigh was lining up her toys on the lip of the coffee table. “How do you guys feel about going to the park?”
Asher and I walked together as our daughter ran ahead and back to us. She had to have lapped us twenty times before the park came into view, and she sprinted headlong to the swings with a joy-filled giggle. The moment she was out of earshot, Asher released a breath.
“She’s perfect.”
“She’s damn close,” I agreed, pressing a hand against his arm and guiding him to a bench. Reluctantly, he sat with me, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together as though ready to jump and run to her aid at any moment. I remembered that feeling the first time I’d brought her here. All I’d been able to see that first time was the multitude of dangers that the place posed. Once you got used to it all, you could watch that imagination develop as the frame turned into Rapunzel’s tower or Captain Hook’s pirate ship.
“Your family is amazing,” he said, reaching out to rest a palm on my knee.
“My dad and brother are protective of me. I’m sorry about how they treated you. Mom and Lucy are probably giving them hell as we speak.”
“They’re looking after you. I can’t be upset by that. They’ve looked after you and my daughter, and I can’t and won’t hold that against them.”
“You also need to know we have an appointment with a lawyer tomorrow.”
“That’s a good thing. I’m going to retain one here in New Orleans. There’s a firm Thomas recommended that should cover everything I need, and Tristan McMillan has a real estate agent for me to work with.”
“Are you staying at the club?”
“No,” he huffed out a quiet laugh. “I’m renting a charming cabin out in the swamps. Interesting landscape and noises at night.”
“Nothing quite like the night sounds out in the bayous. We used to drown it out with loud music and drunken chatter.”
“I’ve enjoyed it, but I may buy a little closer to town.”
“Are you serious about moving here?”
“Once you get papers in order, yes. I want them all to be filed before my family gets wind of me having a child. I’m not willing to put any of you through that. Once I sign, that is then my responsibility, not yours. They will have to come through me to get to either of you.”
“Asher, look at what I can do.”
We both turned our eyes to the little girl swinging upside down on a bar, her curls and dress sucked down by gravity.
“Ashleigh Laurel, you’re wearing a dress.”
Shrugging, she swung herself before the sweat made the surface slick, and she dropped to her hands and knees. Asher was on his feet before she hit the ground, but I tugged him back with a quiet laugh.
“Get used to that. You’re gonna have your heart in your throat a lot now.”
“She’s so small.”
“She’s resilient. She’ll let you know if she does any damage.” I nodded to where Ashleigh was throwing her arms above her head and bowing her body like a gymnast. “To her, she just stuck the landing.”
“You did this alone for almost six years.”
“Not alone. I have my village, and they’ve been amazing. We’re your village now, too. When it comes to Ashleigh, we’d move mountains.”
“I get that.” Asher angled himself to me on the bench. That vulnerability was back in his features and it made my chest ache. “How the fuck can I be in love with her so much already? I’ve known she existed for twenty-four hours. I met her an hour ago, but she’s mine. I feel that.”
“Welcome to parenthood.”
“Was it the same for you?”
I covered his hand with mine when it found my knee again. “I loved her when she was known as BB, but when I held her in my arms, and she scowled up at me, I was a goner.”
“BB?”
“Beach ball. My brother started it, and it stuck. So rather than the baby, we called her BB.”
“Do you have pictures of you while you were pregnant?”
“My mom has a scrapbook. She has one for every decade of our lives. She’s already started Ashleigh’s. Remind me when we get to the house and I’ll dig it out for you.”
A squeal came from the playground and brought Asher to his feet again.
“I’m okay,” Ashleigh shouted and darted to another part of the playground to amuse herself some more.
Tipping my head to the side, I gave Asher an amused look. The big, burly Dominant was going to be a great father. He already had that protective instinct going for him, and I mentally apologized to any boy who so much as smiled at her in the next twenty years. When he caught my smile, he shot me one back in return, and my concern for boys in the future dropped away as a more prevalent problem rose to the surface.
Just like that, the bastard had my heart again.
One moment.
One glance full of contentment while our hearts were running around on the playground singing about snowmen, an
d I saw a future I desperately wanted unfold.
Asher was interrogated through lunch. There was no other word that fit the onslaught of questions fired at him by my father and brother. He answered them all with his charismatic smile and the honesty he’d won me over when I’d first met him. This wasn’t a game for him, and he wasn’t putting on a front for approval. This was public Asher. The face his family had demanded of him for most of his life.
The first time he’d taken me to his cabin in the mountains, we’d spent a whole day just talking. Admittedly, it had been after a full night of making love, so we’d been too exhausted to do more than touch and talk. Our talk had been the first time he’d opened up about his family and how his childhood had played out. Asher’s need for control was nurtured by parents who had stolen choices from him as a little boy. Every minute of every day planned out for him—even his friends had been picked out specifically for him—something that had been eagerly enforced by his sisters. That conversation was when I’d started my intense dislike of his family, and the memory of it as he spoke now only intensified my hatred. Now I was a mother, I couldn’t imagine treating my daughter that way.
By the end of the meal, Asher had explained about his family, and a little bit about what he hoped for in the future, which had my father feeling better about his presence in Ashleigh’s life, though my brother stayed cold.
Preston’s skepticism didn’t last much longer. It took witnessing Asher and Ashleigh watching Frozen together to finally win Preston over. My world had crawled into Asher’s lap, put her tiny hand in his huge one, and settled in her back against his chest as the Disney movie received her full attention. She’d been relaxed enough to doze against him, and the wonder in Asher’s eyes had finally broken Preston.
“Dammit, I didn’t want to like him,” he hissed as we drank a beer in the backyard together with Lucy. He sounded genuinely conflicted about the whole thing.
“Why not, babe?” Lucy asked casually, tipping her bottle in my direction, telling me to pay attention.
Preston’s eyes flickered to me and back to the portrait windows where we could see the profile of Asher, who was watching the screen with polite interest.
“You damn well know why.”
Me. Ashleigh. The memory of the pain I’d shed all over my family when I’d returned home. Looking back now, I was ashamed and embarrassed about how I’d dealt with our breakup. The hormones from pregnancy had exacerbated the whole thing, but it would have been bad even if I hadn’t had that excuse to fall back on. I’d been young, deeply in love, and dramatic. Mostly, though, I’d been shattered because I’d still loved him. I hadn’t been capable of hate.
“I never hated him, P. I was broken, upset, lonely, and sad, but I don’t think I ever reached mad. Not really.”
“And that, right there, is why I don’t feel I should trust him. How manipulative does an asshole have to be to stab a woman in the heart and still make her feel something for him?” Preston dropped his beer to rest on his leg and let out a rush of air. “I hear how ridiculous that sounds, but I can’t stop the worry.” He studied the scene between father and daughter again, his brows twitching. “Was it really his idea to talk to a lawyer?”
“It was.”
Preston nodded again. “He didn’t sound as though he were a fan of his family.”
“He’s not. He has every right to feel that way, too. If you’re questioning his loyalty—”
“I’m not. I just mean to say that he doesn’t seem to want to disrupt your life again.”
“Other than to get your sister into bed, you mean?” Lucy’s tone was saccharine sweet as she hit another heart of the problems Preston was having.
“Yes. I noticed those looks, too,” Preston grumbled, taking a mouthful of beer. “I chose to ignore them.” He studied me for a moment, the hard edge in his chocolate eyes cutting before they flicked back to the image of man and child and melted, deflating him. “Fine. I’ll reserve my judgment and be polite.”
Lucy winked at me, reaching out to pat the back of his other hand lightly. “Do what you have to do, baby. Life will go on anyway.”
Preston rolled his eyes, and dived in Lucy’s direction, making her squeak as he caught her up, kissed her, and pulled her into his lap with a nod of satisfaction. Dropping his chin on his wife’s shoulder, he released a heavy breath and scanned his gaze to me, once again.
“You’re a grown-ass woman, Shauny, and I trust your judgment, but if his family are as bad as he says—”
“Which they are.”
“You gotta talk to Dillon.”
“I am. Tomorrow.”
“Good.” It was said sulkily, but he dropped all pretense as Ashleigh’s head popped up and sought us out as the credits rolled on the movie.
Asher stayed until after Ashleigh’s bath because she demanded that he kiss both her and Sven goodnight. He said his goodbyes almost as soon as I’d shut her bedroom door and promised to call me, which he did. We spoke until two a.m. about nothing but Ashleigh, and I eventually fell asleep with a smile on my lips, and the sound of his voice still wrapped around me like a blanket I shouldn’t want.
My parents took time off work and insisted on accompanying me to Dillon’s office the next morning, Ashleigh was at gymnastics camp, so there was no need for anyone to stay behind. It was almost three hours of questions and discussions about the laws and rights of paternal grandparents. This information segued into what would happen if they took their fight for the right to see her to court. How Asher’s generous offer to sign official documents stating his parents had no claim or rights could stop any claim they thought they had from going that far. The biggest lesson I learned in that office was that enough money could buy you anything, and the rest was white noise.
I had Mondays off as a rule, so we invited Asher over for dinner, giving him some time with Ashleigh before he flew back to Tennessee on Tuesday morning. He helped put her to bed, giving her and Sven a kiss before reading her one of the books he’d brought. Kissing her goodnight, he’d promised he would see her soon and then joined me on my parent’s patio for a beer to discuss what the lawyer had said. He promised to talk to his new lawyer as soon as he got back to ensure mine, and his daughter’s rights were protected.
Asher left for Tennessee early the next morning, but he called me that night anyway. He talked us both into a state close to sleep before saying goodnight and promising to call once he was back in Tennessee. Knowing he would be working so closely with his family holding the knowledge of his daughter made me sick to think about, but the first vestige of trust was beginning to form between us again.
Asher timed his call just right. His plane had landed just after I picked Ash up from gymnastics camp, and my phone rang as I pulled into our driveway. He was safely in Tennessee, missing us already, and he would be gone for two and a half weeks, he informed us both.
Every one of those eighteen days, Asher called on video chat to say goodnight to Ashleigh. It was that one, thoughtful gesture that ensured he was in Ashleigh’s heart every moment he was gone. My daughter’s face lit up when my phone rang while I was reading her a story, her little hands taking the phone like it was precious as she told him about her day, kissing the small camera when he told her goodnight. He always hung up and called back to talk with me until I had to leave for my shift at Stigmata. He also texted me at three a.m. every morning to make sure I’d made it home safely every night. On Sunday nights, he and I spoke for hours after Ashleigh was in bed, and my parents had retreated to their evening movie in the parlor.
Communication between the two of us alone had become more heated and flirtatious. My safeguards and protective measures began to crumble and fall. Watching Asher’s handsome face on the small screen began to make those little butterflies gather and flutter again. The second week of chatting, his beautifully dirty mind came out to play, and he would end the call with me by explaining in great detail what he wanted to do to my body. What toys he wanted to use. Ho
w he would put me back together once he’d broken me.
Problem or not; I wanted it all.
I wanted him.
It became hard to deny him anything once I let him in again.
Every call.
Every conversation.
Every text thread.
They all served to make me fall in love with him all over again. He made the process of it look easy, and he wasn’t even in the same state as me.
Our conversations sexual nature was definitely fun and a part of the attraction I had for him. It had been a while since I’d played with anyone and even longer since I’d felt the smallest thing for my partner, so my imagination ran away. The love that was blossoming now had stemmed from the man Asher Morris was for his daughter. He loved her fiercely. At every turn, he continued putting her needs above his own as he checked in to see how her day at camp had been, or how her playdate had been, while listening for hours about the latest show obsession she had. All of this while he’d been at work.
With that level of adoration, Ashleigh was further gone than me. She was one hundred percent smitten and taken with the man. Her camp counselors, friends, and Momma’s friend, Iona, had all been given a full blow by blow account of their conversations. When a stunning bouquet of flowers was delivered with her name on it, every stranger she passed on the streets was told that she had the “bestest” friend in the whole world. She’d worn one of the flowers in her ponytail all day with pride.
It took less than two weeks for Ashleigh and I to start missing him, and the feeling only grew the more time passed. When he finally called us to say he was coming back, my emotions scared me. Longing, excitement, need, and love gathered and swarmed, and one look at Ashleigh told me she was possibly in love with him, too.
The day he was due to fly back in, I was alone behind the bar in Stigmata, bored now that the communion was long over. It was a slow Thursday night of an even slower week. The bar only had five people milling about with the club level not much better, so I’d spent most of my evening in my imagination with Asher.
