Sharp Left Turn (Sharp Turn Saga #1)

by Faye Byrd

  I roll my eyes. “Dad, don’t be ridiculous. I don’t need pepper spray for this.”

  “According to your mother, you seem to think all this is going to work out smoothly with no legal battles. In my experience, something this big never does. So do me a favor and keep it with you just in case. I’d hate for things to get ugly or for something unexpected to happen. I want you prepared.” There’s no anger in his voice; it’s just matter of fact.

  He’s seen all types of situations go wrong and he’s only looking out for me. I don’t know how pepper spray will help, but if that’s what he needs to feel better then I’ll make sure it’s in my purse.

  I nod. “It’s in the console of my car. I’ll make sure to put it in my purse before I go into the hotel.”

  He smiles then. “Good. Now when are we going to meet this Trystan and the little boy?”

  “Blake,” I say quietly. “His name is Blake and let me meet him first. I won’t keep you waiting long, I promise.”

  “I’ll need Trystan’s full name and address, too,” he adds.

  I furrow my brow. “Um, why? What for?”

  My dad looks affronted. “To run a background check, obviously.”

  “Dad,” I whine. “Please don’t start this.”

  He gets more serious. “Easy, if you think I’m going to let some guy into my daughter and grandson’s lives without a background check, then you’re mistaken. Either you get it or I will.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

  While I can understand where he’s coming from, I can’t imagine having that conversation with Trystan. Not right now, at least. “It’s not some guy, Dad. He’s Cam’s father,” I say quietly, flicking my eyes toward my son to make sure he isn’t listening. “He’s also the father of my biological son. Your other grandson.”

  My father pauses, as if he hasn’t even considered the idea. “Two grandsons,” he repeats, rubbing his hand over his scruffy face. “I like the sound of that, actually.” He wags his finger at me. “I still want that background check, though.”

  I raise a brow. “While I understand your position, I have more pressing things to do tonight. We’ll revisit this conversation another day.”

  He studies me for a moment. “Fine, Easy, but I won’t let it slide.”

  I reach up and kiss his cheek. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  When I reach the lobby of the hotel, I pull out my phone to text Trystan and let him know I’m on the way up. I already have another picture message from him. This time it’s just Blake, and the message reads: He’s ready to meet u.

  I smile to myself and rub my thumb across his little face before hitting reply.

  On the way up.

  The response is immediate.

  K

  I roll my eyes and make my way to the elevator. On the ride, I take deep breaths, hoping to calm the jitters that start in my stomach and reach all the way out to my fingertips.

  Once I arrive at the correct room number, I knock lightly. He’s expecting me, so I’m sure he heard. When the door opens, my eyes go wide.

  Trystan Ashby is standing there, fresh from a shower, his damp hair in delicious disarray. He’s wearing only jeans with a towel around his neck.

  That’s all.

  Nothing else.

  I avert my eyes from the muscular planes of his chest and abs. “What are you doing?” I ask, appalled that he’d greet meet this way.

  He chuckles that dark, sexy chuckle. “What? I just got out of the shower.”

  I snatch the towel from his neck and push it into his chest. “And you couldn’t get completely dressed after you did? Put some clothes on for Christ’s sake,” I snap.

  “I’m sorry, Easton. I didn’t realize it would bother you.” His face is the picture of innocence, but I know better.

  He’s still playing to win, and the thing is, it’s working.

  I decide on a different approach.

  Guilt.

  I put on my most sincere face. “I’m sorry, Trystan. I thought we’d put all of that aside on the night I’m meeting my son for the first time.”

  His face falls. “You’re right. I’m sorry … again.”

  I smile. “No need, just put on some clothes and introduce me.”

  He returns my smile and invites me inside. “Blake’s in our room. Let me grab a shirt, and I’ll bring him out. Have a seat.” He motions to the couch.

  This is it.

  The last few seconds before my biological son is standing before me. The excitement that rushes through me is both scary and exhilarating. Not even a minute later, Trystan is leading Blake back into the room.

  They come to a stop in front of me, and I drink him in with my eyes. Hair a couple of shades lighter than mine covers his head, and eyes that mirror my dad’s peer back at me. I know those eyes because I look at them every day in the mirror. I do my very best to keep the moisture from collecting in my own.

  “Blake, this is Miss Easton Wilder,” Trystan says. “Can you say hey?”

  He scoots in closer, almost hugging Trystan’s leg.

  Trystan rubs his hand through his hair in a soothing motion. “Dude, remember, I told you she was coming to meet you. She has a son named Cam who’s your age.”

  Blake’s eyes snap to Trystan’s. “Yeah, Cam at the hopital.”

  Trystan nods and gets down on his knees in front of him. “Yep, little man, he sure is. I was hoping we could go see him tomorrow, but you’ll have to talk to Miss Easton first. See if it’s okay.”

  His little eyes slide to mine. Very quietly, he says, “Can we come see Cam?”

  I open my mouth to respond, but the words are caught in my throat. I’m about to speak to my other son.

  This moment is monumental.

  I take a deep breath and try again. “Of course you can, sweetie. He’ll be so happy to meet you.” I try a different approach and hold out my hand. He looks at it for several seconds before slowly reaching out and taking it in his. I relish the moment our palms touch. “Hello, Blake. My name is Easy, and it’s nice to meet you.” I shake his hand enthusiastically, smiling as wide as my lips will allow.

  He takes my lead and really puts his all into the shake. “My name is Blake Ashby, and I three-years-old.”

  If I could smile wider, I would. We finish our shake and I tousle his hair. “I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends, Blake.”

  He holds up his hands and wrinkles his forehead. “What about Cam then? I thought he my friend.”

  Trystan chuckles. “I’m sorry, Easton. I told him all about Cam on the way from the airport.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I guess it stuck with him.”

  “No, that’s fine, even better. I like that he wants to meet Cam,” I assure him.

  “Daddy showed me a picture,” Blake informs me.

  “Of what?” I ask him.

  “Cam, silly.” He laughs as if I wasn’t paying attention, and I guess maybe I wasn’t. He was though. He was paying better attention to Trystan and me than I realized.

  My eyes go to Trystan, and he’s looking around trying to focus on anything but me. I’m not mad or anything, but I also had no idea he’d taken a picture of Cam.

  I focus back on Blake. “He did?”

  He nods, using one big exaggerated motion. “Yep, I saw him in a hopital bed. It’s okay, though. I gonna be his friend and make him better.”

  “Make him better?” I ask, wondering what would make him say that.

  “Yeah, make him happy he’s got a new friend. All better,” he says like it’s obvious.

  I smile at his sweetness. “Thank you, Blake. I have a feeling Cam needs a good friend like you.”

  “Can we watch Angry Birds, Daddy?” he begs, changing the subject almost instantly.

  “I don’t know,” Trystan responds. “Don’t you wanna hang out with Miss Easton?”

  “She can watch it wif us,” he explains in such a simple manner.

  “Well, maybe you should ask her first.”<
br />
  Blake turns his bright blue eyes on me, full force, and steps closer, right in front of me. “Miss Eaton, you wanna watch Angry Birds wif us?”

  There’s no way I can deny him even if I wanted to. “Sure, sweetie. I haven’t seen that movie.”

  Trystan orders snacks and drinks from room service and gets the movie ready to play. While we wait, Blake asks me if I want to see his toys. Of course I agree, and he takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. He shows me his favorite toys that he brought from home and tells me about some he had to leave behind. When Trystan calls after our goodies have been delivered, Blake grabs his favorite blanket and leads me from the room.

  We settle on the couch together, all three of us, with Blake in the middle, his legs covered by his blanket. At first, there’s some space between us, but as the movie goes on and he’s constantly pointing out things to me, he gets closer and closer. By the time the movie is at the end, his head is laying on my lap as he laughs at the large eagle crash-landing with the eggs.

  When movement on the other side of Blake catches my attention, I allow my eyes to find Trystan. He stares at me with a confident smirk on his face.

  “See, I told you everything would be fine,” the smirk says.

  The only thing I can do is smile in thanks. Thanks for raising this beautiful boy. Thanks for allowing me the chance to know him so easily. Thanks for assuring me this meeting would go well and most of all, thanks for giving me this moment … this moment right here.

  When the credits start rolling, Blake jumps straight up, not one to savor the ending. “Did you like it?” he asks.

  “Yeah, buddy, it was cute.” I eye Trystan over his head, not sure if it was exactly three-year-old appropriate. “It’s one Cameron hasn’t seen.”

  His eyes go wide. “Cam hasn’t see Angry Birds?”

  I drop my head in apology. “No, I’m sorry.”

  “Can we watch it at the hopital?” he asks, his little hands balling up in excitement.

  Before I can answer, Trystan breaks in. “I told you, Cam’s going to be heading home soon. Maybe you can watch it at his house,” he suggests, lifting a brow in my direction.

  Blake turns to me. “Can we? Please.”

  There’s no way I can say no. “Of course you can. It won’t be long before he gets to go home.”

  “Shoot yeah.” He fists pumps, and I return Trystan’s raised brow, slightly appalled.

  He quickly changes the subject. “Dude, it’s bedtime. You’re going to have to tell Miss Easton bye.”

  Blake crosses his arms. “I don’t wanna. Can she read me my favorite story?”

  Trystan looks to me, so I shrug and answer Blake. “Sure thing, honey. Why don’t you go get your PJs on and call me when you’re ready?”

  He takes off to the bedroom without another word.

  I stand up and cross my arms. “What the hell was that, Trystan?” I ask tersely.

  “What?” He tries to pretend he has no clue.

  “You know what. That ‘shoot yeah.’ Sounds an awful lot like a substitution for other words to me,” I point out. “Not to mention, is that movie even appropriate?”

  He looks away, and his hand goes to the back of his neck, a sure sign of his nervousness. “Well, you’ve met me. I can have a colorful mouth, so I do my best to curb that around Blake, and those are the types of things he picks up on.” I start tapping my foot. “What? It’s better than the alternative. Trust me.” He snorts.

  I soften, but only a little. “Sounds like you know from experience?”

  Trystan sighs. “When his third word was fuck, I had to do something.”

  He looks so sad at that admission that I don’t have the heart to ream him anymore. It is something we’ll have to get back to, but for now, I’ll let it slide. “And the movie?”

  “That movie is perfectly acceptable,” he responds, affronted that I even questioned him. “By the time he understands the references, it’ll fit right in his age range. Besides, he loves it.”

  I give up with a shrug. “It was pretty good.”

  “See,” he says, his lips curving with that familiar playful smile.

  “Miss Eaton,” Blake calls down the hall, interrupting before Trystan can make his move.

  “Coming,” I yell back as I give his father the stink eye. “You joining us?”

  He smiles that breathtaking smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  13 PRIVATE ROAD

  Trystan

  I jerk awake the next morning from a sharp jab and reach down to catch a foot before it pummels me again. Blake is sprawled out all over the bed, his feet digging into my side. When it dawns on me why I’m in his bed, I jump up and look around suddenly.

  Easton.

  She was here last night.

  Her soothing voice reading to Blake must have lulled me to sleep. I survey the room, looking for any sign of her. On the nightstand, there’s a small slip of paper. I reach over and grab it, then flop back onto the bed, bringing my hand up and rubbing my eyes. With my vision clear, I focus on the note.

  Trystan,

  You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t have the heart to wake you. Tell Blake that I am so happy to have met him, and I’ll see you both today at the hospital.

  Easy

  P.S. You snore!

  I chuckle. She thinks she’s so funny. My mind wanders back to last night, and I can’t stop the smile that curls my lips. She was so nervous to meet Blake, and it was all for nothing. He loved her. The way these boys have accepted each of us is pretty amazing.

  It’s almost like they have this innate knowledge. They just know.

  Dragging myself from bed, I straighten Blake so he won’t slip off the edge. He can be a mess when he sleeps, twisting and turning all over the place. After he’s settled, I head out to the living room to order breakfast. I make it a point to order something for Easton and Cam, asking for it to be ready for pickup in one hour.

  Just as I’m ending the call, there’s a rap on the door. Already knowing who it is, I make my way over and open it without checking. “Morning, bro. How’d the meet and greet go last night?” Coop’s a nosy fucker. I should’ve known he’d be here before sunrise.

  “It went great. Blake loved her just as I knew he would,” I say, a smile forming at the memory. “She was so worried that he wouldn’t.”

  He sticks his hands in his pocket, rocking back on his heels, and studies me.

  “What?” I ask, reading him like a book. Cooper isn’t one to beat around the bush, but right now, he seems to be keeping his cards close to his chest.

  “Nothing.” He shakes his head as he walks toward the sofa to take a seat, but then he adds offhandedly, “Sounds like he isn’t the only one.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “What’s that supposed to mean, Coop?”

  He rolls his eyes. “It means that you’ve barely met this woman, and she already has you by the balls!”

  “You think I’m supposed to fight with the mother of my biological son? Make things harder than they have to be?” I grip my hair with both hands, frustrated with his sudden attitude so early in the morning.

  “It doesn’t have to be a fight. A custody agreement might be a wise choice, though,” he counters.

  Coop’s only trying to look out for me, but he has it all wrong. “How would that help? A long drawn out court proceeding is not what’s best for our boys. Right now, Easton and I have complete control. If we decide to bring the courts into it, then some fucking judge gets that power. It’s unacceptable!”

  “Well, as it is now, she could snatch that right away at any moment. Then where would you be? At least with some type of agreement, you’d have somewhere to turn if that happened!” He’s getting heated now, and I can understand a little bit, but he doesn’t know Easton. In just a scant two days, she’s proven to me that the boys will always be her priority.

  “Look, bro, I love you, but you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. Ea
ston would never do that to me,” I say adamantly before lowering my voice and trying a different approach. “You do realize that she has something to lose, too?”

  He throws his hands up in the air. “Back to my original point! I think you’re giving Easton all the power here. She’s already trying to have another kid with you, and you can’t even tell the first one that you’re his dad!”

  My brows furrow. This doesn’t sound like my brother at all. “What’s going on,” I ask softly. “Did Kari put you up to this?”

  “We discussed it, yes. She’s worried about you, Trystan. We’ve never seen you so …” He trails off, his hands motioning wildly as he searches for the word. “Compliant.”

  I drop onto the sofa beside him, angling in his direction. “Look, bro. I’m just not sure either of you can fully grasp what I’m going through. One day, I had a boy I loved more than life, and the next, I had two. Cameron means everything to me, and Easton feels the same about Blake. Our relationship dictates theirs, so we can’t allow it to be anything other than perfect.”

  He brushes his hand through his close-cropped hair. “And what about the new kid?”

  Flopping back beside him, I sigh. “She wants me to donate sperm.”

  A bark of laughter fills the quiet room. “You don’t sound very thrilled about that.”

  “I’ve left it up to her.” I shrug, even though my mind rejects the idea.

  “So even though you’re not sure you can successfully co-parent the two you have, you’re willing to have another? Right now? You’re ready to be a father to three kids?” He’s piercing me with his stare, as if he can will me to give him the answers he wants to hear.

  “In our initial meeting, Easton was very thorough when giving me the details of her and Cameron’s journey. Before she found out he was sick, she’d already set up an appointment to be inseminated. She was ready to give him a sibling,” I explain, and I’m not sure why I’m telling him her private business, but I need Coop to understand.

  “That may help explain her reasons a little better, but I’m not sure it explains yours,” he responds just as there’s a knock on the door.

  “Give me a sec.” I go to retrieve room service, rolling the cart to the dining table. “Come eat something and I’ll explain, but we have to hurry. Blake needs to eat before we can go, and I have to pick up Cam and Easton’s breakfast in forty-five minutes.”