His Accidental Daddy

by Luna, David

  Madi spoke up again. “But why don’t you just hire a manager or something, like Asher said, and then you can travel whenever?”

  Jenn smiled, reaching over and patting Madi’s hand. “I don’t want to have any ties keeping me tethered to a business that takes up so much mental time and energy. I want to truly retire and enjoy my travels with my husband.”

  Both Asher’s and Madi’s shoulders slumped, but Jenn’s positive energy didn’t flag. “Listen, this is a huge decision, and I don’t expect you to make it quickly or without a million more questions. Why don’t you take this time while Asher is out and healing to maybe talk together about it and just figure out if it’s even something you’d be remotely interested in doing? We can work out the particulars later. Just take time to sort out your feelings about it. Maybe only one of you would be interested. I’m not against that. I just wanted to propose you both do it together because you both have such passion for your work and have the most interest in seeing to the success of The Glasshouse.”

  After that, Asher and Madi asked a few more questions, and things wound down. Both Jenn and Madi could see Asher was exhausted. Thornton could see the fatigue weighing the boy down, and it wasn’t long after that when dinner was brought in for him. Not even an hour after he ate, Asher was asleep, and Thornton spent more time than he’d ever admit watching the boy rest, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.

  Chapter Five

  Asher

  It was bright and early on his third day in the hospital—the day he was going to be released—and he found himself even more nervous at that prospect. But for reasons other than his injuries, which was unexpected. Asher wasn’t entirely sure how to handle the situation he found himself in. He’d never had a man’s attention so focused on him before.

  But there he was with a sexy-as-sin, older man who hadn’t left his side since the accident, told the hospital staff he was Asher’s husband, and was very obviously interested in him. He’d even alluded to that the night before. Hell, Thornton’s, “I’m very interested in getting to know you, Asher. I hope you’ll allow me to do so,” was more blatant than alluding, but thinking about that made him nervous as hell.

  He’d never dated, never had sex or even fooled around with anyone. He couldn’t deny he was interested in Thornton as well, making the enigmatic man the only one he’d ever been interested in. He might have lacked any experience in the dating scene, but he wasn’t oblivious to flirting and interest aimed at him. He’d just never wanted attention like that from people. It stressed him out because what the fuck else was new. Everything stressed him out. And he never understood why anyone would bother with him in the first place.

  He didn’t think he was ugly. He’d consider himself average, but he’d also consider himself an antisocial, neurotic mess. And he didn’t understand why Thornton was showing such an interest in him. But he was, so Asher had a decision to make, which had never been a problem before because his decision had always been to say no. But he admitted to himself he didn’t want to say no. Not this time.

  The larger-than-life man, who was still asleep in the godforsaken hospital recliner, was just… more than he’d ever experienced. More virile, more confident, more gorgeous, more masculine, more intense, kinder, gentler, more straightforward, and more determined. It left him feeling untethered, adrift in a sea of questions he didn’t have the answers to. And he hated not having the answers. But he couldn’t think about it anymore. His brain hurt, and his ribs hurt, and suddenly he was exhausted again.

  He woke with a jolt, unsure of what roused him. When he looked at the clock, he realized he’d slept several more hours. He was still foggy, but he took stock of his injuries, grateful some of the pain had dissipated. He looked towards Thornton’s chair, and when he met those beautiful eyes, all thoughts left his head. The man’s deep voice made goosebumps slide up his arms. “Good morning.”

  Asher cleared his throat. “Morning.”

  His eyes skirted away from Thornton, scared to feel that pull towards the man every time their gazes clashed. Asher watched as he stood up from the recliner with a grimace, stretched his limbs and his back, which popped, and then his neck. God, Asher felt awful. Guilt weighed him down again for making Thornton feel as if he had to stay with him. He couldn’t help but apologize. Again. “I’m sorry you had to sleep in the recliner for the second night in a row. You must be sore. I should have told you to go home. That was selfish of me.”

  His gaze snapped towards Thornton as he sat down beside Asher on the bed, his skin tingling even under the blankets when Thornton’s thigh brushed against his own. Shivers raced over his skin when Thornton clasped his hand between his much larger ones. “It’s okay to be a little selfish every once in a while. I get the feeling it’s a rare occurrence for you, isn’t it?”

  When Asher only shrugged, Thornton continued, “I wanted to stay with you. And before you tell me not to feel guilty, it’s not guilt that is keeping me by your side. I am responsible for putting you here, but if you were anyone else, I can honestly say I wouldn’t be here. There’s a pull I feel towards you. I think you feel it too.”

  Still unable to come up with words, Asher merely nodded, unable to lie, even silently. “If you’d have told me you wanted me to go home yesterday, I’d have done so. I’d have hated it, but I’d have done it.”

  “W—” Asher cleared his throat and tried again. “Why?”

  “Why would I have done it, or why would I have hated it?”

  Wanting the answers more than he wanted anything else in that moment, he met Thornton’s gaze and admitted, “Both.”

  Thornton’s smile, which Asher somehow felt held pride in him, was melting his insides like goo. He couldn’t take his eyes away from those dark, full lips as they spoke. “I’d have done it because I will always respect your wishes, and I’d have hated it because I don’t want to be away from you just yet.”

  Warmth flooded him, and he could feel his face reflecting that with a blush. God, why did he like the idea of this strong, self-assured man not wanting to leave him? Him. Of all people. He had to at least be honest with Thornton for showing Asher the same respect. “I don’t want to be away from you yet either.”

  “Good bo—” Thornton seemed to catch himself before he continued what he’d been about to say and cleared his throat before trying again. “Good. I’m glad you feel that way.”

  Had he been about to call Asher boy? He had no idea what that meant, no idea why goosebumps traveled up his arms and neck, and no idea why his heart started beating faster at the thought. Unable to come up with any answers for his body’s physical reaction to what amounted to a slip of the tongue, he decided to ignore it, like he did anything he didn’t want to look too closely at.

  Asher’s stomach decided that was the moment it wanted to make itself known with a loud, hungry growl. Thornton squeezed his hand and said, “How about I call the nurses’ station and get them to bring you some food?”

  There went Asher’s blush again when he nodded in response. Why did Thornton taking charge, taking care, feel so damn good? It wasn’t like calling the nurses’ station was some grand gesture. But Asher couldn’t convince himself it was simple either.

  There was something about the way Thornton took charge that appealed to him. The man wasn’t pushy, bossy, or aggressive about it. He could tell Thornton did what he did to ensure Asher got what he needed. He’d never had that. Well, he supposed Madi sometimes did that for him—she did drive him to The Glasshouse every day she was working—but somehow it felt different when Thornton did it. Somehow it felt more meaningful, more deliberate.

  The beep before the nurse answered pulled him out of his thoughts. “How can I help you?”

  He didn’t even try to answer. Didn’t want to. He felt the need to allow Thornton to take charge of him in that way. His skin warmed again, and a small grin graced Asher’s lips when Thornton replied, “Yes, my husband is hungry. Can someone bring him a late breakfast?”


  “Yes, sir. We’ll have to order him a fresh one, but it should be up shortly.”

  “Thank you.”

  Shortly was more like forty minutes, and his stomach nearly ate itself during the wait. When he dug into the mediocre food with gusto, Thornton chuckled. “I’m glad you have such a healthy appetite.”

  Oh, god, was he being a pig? He chewed quickly and swallowed. “Sorry.”

  Thornton chuckled. “Don’t be sorry. I just said I was glad. It’s a good thing.”

  Asher shrugged, not sure what to make of that. Thornton stood, and Asher felt the loss of the man’s warmth as he did. “I’m gonna wash up quick and change.”

  Asher nodded and watched as Thornton leaned down to pick up the bag Syed had left him the day before and headed into the bathroom. He continued to eat his breakfast, lackluster as it was, and just as he finished and pushed the rolling cart away from him, his doctor, Dr. Flores, walked in.

  She approached him, her bedside manner apparent in her friendly smile. “Asher, how are you feeling this morning?”

  He took stock of his pain, and though he still had quite a bit, he wanted to go home more than he wanted to stay in the hospital, so Asher told the doctor what he thought she wanted to hear. “Much better.”

  Dr. Flores raised a brow at his quick answer, probably aware he just wanted to get the hell out of dodge. She logged into the computer on the monitor stand attached to the wall and looked at his chart. “Your tests and vitals are looking good. I think you’ll be fine to be released today as long as you’ll have some help at home. But since your husband hasn’t left your side, I’m sure you’ve got that covered.”

  He blushed at that and nodded because he wasn’t about to admit the truth. And he didn’t need help; he’d be fine. “I’ll have it if I need it.”

  “We’ll be sending you home with a script for oxycodone that you can take until your follow up with your primary care doctor. You can’t lift anything over ten pounds…” She continued to talk about his restrictions, but he knew he’d never remember everything, and it would all be in his discharge papers. So he did his best to zone out and not stress about it.

  When he heard the bathroom door open, revealing a casual, sexy Thornton in ripped jeans and a fitted, long-sleeve white tee, with a pair of black Vans, he breathed a sigh of relief, which only lasted long enough for her next words to sink in. “… and you’ll want to take at least a couple of weeks off no matter what you do for work, but if your job is physical, you’ll probably need at least four weeks off.”

  He could feel the stress reach in to grab hold and could hear it as the heart monitor started beating a little faster. He concentrated on his breathing, ignoring the pain that it caused, willing his heart rate to stay steady. It must have worked well enough for Dr. Flores, as she smiled before saying, “You’ll have everything we just spoke about in your discharge papers. Be sure to follow them closely. It’s the fastest way for you to recover.”

  She shook both his hand and Thornton’s, who thanked her for everything she’d done. He felt bad he didn’t do the same but was still concentrating on keeping himself from losing control in front of her. When she walked out the door, he continued to try and keep himself from flying apart. He couldn’t be off work for four weeks. There was no way. There was harvesting and planting to do; there always was. He couldn’t do that to Jenn. She’d have to work double duty as she was the only one with enough experience to do what needed to be done.

  Thornton was at his side, sitting down on the bed, and clasping his hands, which were fisted in his lap. The man’s long fingers slowly pried his fingers out of his fists, flattening them out as he murmured. “You’re okay, Asher. I’m here with you. As much as the pain will allow, take some deep breaths with me. I’m going to count, and you’re going to breathe in and out slowly as I do.”

  Thornton had a way about him that just exuded calm and tranquility, as if nothing in the world bothered him, and he had everything under control. What a foreign concept. But that calm seemed to seep into Asher’s bones with each new breath. Even when his ribs ached, even when his head continued to pound, he was calming down bit by bit.

  “That’s good. That’s really good, Asher. How’s your pain?”

  He shook his head, not wanting to answer, but Thornton repeated, “Asher, I asked you a question. I need to know how much pain you’re in. Is it manageable? Do we need some meds before you’re discharged?”

  He shook his head again, managing to say, “No.”

  Thornton’s voice was stern when he said, “Look at me, Asher. I don’t think you’re telling me the truth. So, I’m asking you again—is your pain manageable, or should we ask for some painkillers before we leave?”

  He took a deep breath and nodded, finally able to admit he was feeling pretty awful. His ribs hurt, obviously, but he ached pretty much from his head to his feet. He’d seen the bruises all across his chest from the seat belt. It wasn’t pretty. And he found it nearly impossible to lie to Thornton with his voice so serious. “Yeah. I think I need some. I’m sorry.”

  Asher glanced up and met his eyes. Thornton’s expression was serious when he replied, “Don’t apologize. Thank you for telling me the truth.”

  Thornton took care of ordering his pain relievers, and as soon as they began to kick in, he helped Asher put on the clothes Madi had brought him for when he was released. His day shift nurse Rebecca finally brought in his discharge papers and a wheelchair. Asher stiffened when he saw the chair, knowing what was coming. He just had to get through the next hour, and then he’d be home.

  “I’m gonna go down and get your prescription so we don’t have to make that stop on the way out, all right?”

  He cleared his throat. “Can I borrow your phone and your earbuds? I just thought I could listen to… but you probably need it. Never mind.”

  “I can make do without it. Here.” He handed the earbud case and his phone over. He put the code in so Asher could use it while he was gone. “You sure you’re okay? I can stay if you’d rather, and we can—”

  He shook his head. He could use the time to calm the fuck down, as much as possible, anyway. “No, I’m fine. Go ahead.”

  Thornton excused himself to go down to the hospital pharmacy. Asher took several deep breaths. He’d been able to ignore the fact he was in the hospital because he’d woken up in his room and hadn’t had to be around a lot of people.

  He’d only had a few nurses in and out of his room, and the doctor too, so he’d been able to distract himself enough to handle the situation. But now they were headed home, and he’d have to sit in that wheelchair and be pushed through the fucking corridors, and the thought of all the people and everything going on around him made him start to shake.

  He found YouTube and searched for the background noise he often listened to, turning it up high and shoving the earbuds in his ears, and tried to use his mantras and his relaxation techniques to calm himself down. By the time Thornton was back, he thought he might be able to pass as normal without setting off Thornton’s alarm bells. Thornton helped him into the chair and began the long, arduous trip to the lobby.

  His hands were in fists in his lap, his palms were sweating, and he was practicing his breathing exercises just to get downstairs. Then he had the drive home to contend with. But he’d be home free soon enough. He wasn’t driving, and for that he was grateful, but even getting in the car seemed like an insurmountable task. He was going to hold it together, though. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to hold it the fuck together without making Thornton look at him with pity.

  The man had been kinder than he thought possible. If he could make it home without causing any more fanfare, Thornton would finally be able to leave him at home and go back to his own life. Asher was positive the man had shit to do, a life to live, and, from what it sounded like, a business to run.

  A sleek, black SUV was brought to the curb by the valet driver. Thornton locked the wheels on the chair and stepped forward,
slipping some cash in the valet’s hand, slick as you please. It was a practiced move, so Asher had a feeling the life Thornton lived was much different than his own. That impression was proven when Thornton opened the passenger door of the car and the interior was revealed.

  Shinier than a car had any right to be, he was greeted with soft, supple, tan leather seats and wood grain and chrome dash accents. Jesus. It was fancier than any car he’d ever laid eyes on. He was positive he’d do something to mess it up, but it was his best—and realistically the only—option he felt comfortable with to get him home.

  Thornton was by his side, practically lifting him to his feet without him having to exert himself at all, but even with the help, pain lanced through his side, and he sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Asher, I’m sorry. I thought I was being gentle. Do you think you can take the few steps to the car?”

  He took a couple of shallow breaths, gearing himself up more for the ride home and the inevitable pain he would feel. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. You were gentle. I think I just sucked in too deep a breath, and my ribs weren’t happy with me.”

  Asher took several steps to the car and slowly slid himself into the passenger side with a lot of help from Thornton, narrowly avoiding crying out in pain. Thornton helped him with the seat belt but hesitated before clicking it into place. “This is going to put pressure on your ribs. How about I put the top half of the belt behind you so it’s not so painful?”

  Fear lanced through him. He couldn’t do that. He had to have the belt on properly. He’d end up flying through the window and getting killed if they got in an accident. He couldn’t. He just… no. Shaking his head, he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to even respond.