Sharp Left Turn (Sharp Turn Saga #1)

by Faye Byrd

  The trip to the store is refreshing. Knowing I’m in the process of sharing a little bit of myself with Easton and Cam makes it special. I pick up some fresh fruits, drinks, milk, eggs, dry ingredients and a couple different proteins. She hasn’t been home for a while, and I want to make sure everything I need is there, because I don’t intend this to be a one-time thing.

  When I return with the groceries, she’s sitting on the sofa, flipping through a magazine. Her head snaps in my direction. “Hey, you’re back.” She gets up and comes over to help. “What did you buy? Let me get some of them.”

  “I have them, but you can help me put things away if you want.” I follow her into the kitchen and place the bags on the bar.

  Now that I’m in here, I’m able to fully appreciate all the nice finishes. She has a six-burner range, a large, three-door refrigerator and even a wine cooler mounted under the bar. Carrara marble with a thin vein of gray covers all the counters, and her wooden cabinets are painted a bright white.

  “Gosh, Trystan, you didn’t say you were buying groceries.”

  “I’m hoping you’ll like my cooking so much that you’ll allow me to do it more often,” I say with a cheeky wink.

  She smiles shyly, and that’s one thing Easton’s not. She’s a smart, independent woman who’s proven she has what it takes to put me in my place. This shy woman in front of me is a complete contradiction to everything I know. I have to wonder if it’s because I’m having an effect on her.

  She starts grabbing things from the bags. “Maybe,” she says quietly, but then a playful smirk lifts the corner of her lip. “I guess this is your test. Mess up and it’s no more cooking for Chef Ashby.”

  She leans into the refrigerator to put a few items away. I grab the gallon of milk and line my body against hers. There’s only the smallest space between our skin. “If there’s one thing I won’t mess up, it’s cooking,” I say close to her ear. “I can also assure you, there’s another thing I do just as well.”

  I place the milk down and back away, watching as chills run up her bare arms, and she stays in the refrigerator just a bit longer than necessary. When she stands, it’s with a lifted brow in my direction. “You know, all this talk you’re doing, you better be able to follow through. I wouldn’t want to be disappointed if we ever do make it that far.”

  Just the thought of what she’s saying makes my pants tighten. Images flash through my mind of what can only be fantasies, as I’ve never seen her naked. Hot, sweaty, passionate sex between the two of us.

  Fuck, she gives as good as she gets.

  Every.

  Damn.

  Time.

  Taking a few seconds to get my reactions under control, I smirk. “Easton, I assure you, when we go that route, you’ll be so fucking happy you made that choice.”

  She props against the bar and crosses her arms. “That’s still to be determined, Chef Ashby.”

  “Okay, until then it’s fair game.” I’m pushing it here, but I can’t make myself stop. Even I’m not sure all the ways in which I want her.

  Her playful smile falls slightly. “While this game is … stimulating, I’m not sure it helps.”

  “I’m sorry, Easton. I really am. I just can’t help myself when I’m around you,” I say, taking a step closer without my brain giving the order. “You’re driving me fucking mad.”

  Her hands come out in front of her, as if to keep me away. “I’m sorry, too, but let’s just table it for today and enjoy our sons.”

  I sigh, but a smile curves my lips anyway. “You’re right. We have so much to be thankful for. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a fuck awesome lunch to prepare.” I give her a mock bow and motion to one of the bar stools.

  As I make the most stunning grilled cheese ever, we chat about the boys, who we haven’t heard a peep from, and tell each other more about our lives. As we talk about Coop and his family, his urging from yesterday morning comes barreling into my psyche.

  “So, um”–I rub the back of my neck–“Coop had some concerns when he was here.”

  “Was it because I stopped him from entering Cam’s room?” Her voice is even, giving me no clue as to what her reaction is going to be.

  I flip the sandwiches and turn to face her. “No, it wasn’t anything you did per se. Actually, it was before he met you. I, uh, I kind of told him everything.”

  “Oh,” she says, sitting up straighter.

  I hold up my hands in a placating manner. “Hold on, let me explain.” She nods and I continue, “We both know this is an unusual situation. Coop and Kari are concerned that we only have a verbal agreement. They think we should consider some kind of custody arrangement.” When she opens her mouth to speak, I stop her. “Coop was less concerned after he met you and Cam, but it’d protect both of us if something were to happen. Especially if we do decide to move forward with a third child.”

  She nods, her face pensive. “I can see that point, but it would have to be between us only, with a judge signing off. I don’t want a court having authority to decide what’s best for our children. Our wills need to be in order, also. There’s no one I’d want to have Cam, if something were to happen to me, besides his father.” I suck in a huge gulp of air, her words robbing me of oxygen. “But, Trystan, are you afraid you’ll mess up and I won’t let you see Cam? Is that what this is about?”

  I’m speechless. Hearing, after just three days of knowing each other, she trusts me enough to leave me our son if something were to happen is fucking stunning. The thought hasn’t even crossed my mind. This is among the many reasons Easton Wilder is a special kind of woman.

  My eyes are burning, and I blink fast to dissipate the wetness. “Easton.” My voice cracks. “I’m so fucking honored to hear those words from you.” I stop and gather myself together. “And, yes, I am afraid I’ll fuck up this truce.”

  She gets down from her stool and comes to my side. First, she takes my spatula and removes the charred sandwich from the pan, turning off the burner. Then, she turns and steps beside me, placing her hand on my back. “Trystan, there’s almost nothing you could do to make me take Cam away from you. No matter whether we get along or not, Cam is your son and always will be. Even if I couldn’t stand you, I’d never take him from you without a very good cause.”

  I bring my fingers up and dig them in my eyes to dry the excess moisture. “Thank you, Easton. I’d never do that to you either. Blake is your son and will always be your son.”

  She smiles. “I know that, Trystan.”

  Before I can respond further, my phone chimes from my pocket. I return Easton’s smile with an appreciative one of my own and shrug apologetically as I pull it out to see who’s bothering us on such an important day.

  Dr. Scott. An unexpected chill runs through my chest.

  I hold up a finger as I bring my phone to my ear. “Katherine, how lovely of you to interrupt our first day home with Cam.” My voice is pleasant enough, but she recognizes the edge.

  “Of course,” she replies with a hint of sarcasm. “What more could I possibly have to do today than interrupt your fun?”

  “Back to the cloak and dagger bullshit, I see,” I reply with an eyeroll, which earns me a pinch to my side.

  I hold up my hands, basically asking Easton what she expects from me, and she mouths, “Be nice.”

  “Fine,” I say petulantly. “How can I help you today, Dr. Scott?” My voice is extra cheery now in hopes of appeasing both women.

  But instead of a snappy comeback, all I get is a sigh. “Are you with Easy?”

  “She’s right here,” I reply, the edge creeping back into my voice.

  “Good,” she says, though her voice is still low, troubled even. “Even though this has nothing to do with her specifically, I think it best that she’s aware.”

  “Aware of what?” I grit, my jaw clenched tightly. I’ve been here with her before. It’s like pulling fucking teeth to get anything out of her. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before pulling t
he phone away and pressing the speaker so Easton can hear—whatever it is—firsthand.

  “Mr. Ashby,” she says all formal and shit, causing a familiar burn to rise in my stomach. “As I’ve already relayed, your cell isn’t the only number I originally contacted. Your wife’s c—”

  “She’s not my wife!” I snap, and Easton’s nails dig into my arm. I’m not sure if it’s an admonishment or if she’s just scared, but either way, I pull her into my side.

  “I understand that, Mr. Ashby, and I’m sorry, but at the time I had no idea,” Dr. Scott says apologetically, and I actually believe her for once. “As I was saying, her cell number was listed, and I did leave a message there.”

  “And?” I prompt when she doesn’t continue, even though I’m terrified to hear what has her so reluctant.

  “And she’s left a message on my cell,” she finally says.

  Easton’s hand flies up to cover a gasp, and if it wasn’t for needing to be here for her, I might blow a gasket. But as it is, I take a few deep, even breaths, centering myself before I respond.

  “Ignore her,” I say agressively, determined to see to it that the hospital has no obligation to speak with Kennedy. “My lawyer will have the paperwork to you this afternoon.”

  “You have until I enter my office tomorrow morning.”

  I end the call, slipping the phone into my pocket, and pull Easton into my chest where she buries her face. I prop my cheek on her head, my thoughts solely on consoling her because I’m not ready to face the reality. Kennedy is here, and she’s making her presence known.

  “I swear, I’ll never allow her to get near our boys.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, Easton or myself, but either way, I mean it with every breath in my body.

  Her arms encircle me, offering her own reassurance in the form of a tight hug. “She has no power over us unless we allow it.”

  Lifting my head, I pull her away so I can stare into those gorgeous fucking eyes. “As usual, you’re right,” I say, pushing her hair back and cupping her cheek. “We’ll contact my attorney after lunch.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  As I remake the burned grilled cheese, my thoughts drift to the woman I used to share my life with. At the time, you’d have never convinced me she was capable of creating chaos, but hindsight’s a bitch, and now I have it.

  When Kennedy learns the truth, she won’t go quietly.

  ACKNOWLEDEGMENTS

  I want to thank everyone who has ever encouraged my writing.

  Cecilia Mohney, Hilary Lee and Sara Perry. Thank you for taking the time to read and give me your thoughts! I appreciate it so much :)

  This story is dedicated to my daughter.

  For information on how you can become a bone marrow donor, please visit

  https://bethematch.org/

  FAMILIES ARE UNUSUAL CREATURES. THEY come in all shapes and sizes, and each one works in unique and interesting ways. No family is perfect. We all make mistakes, and this family is no different.

  This story is not meant to make light of any situation contained within it. For anyone who’s been through any of the ordeals presented, if I could write you a happily-ever-after I’d do it in a heart beat. Thank you for giving my story a try.

  All trademark references mentioned in this book, including movies, movie characters or television shows, are the property of the respective copyright holders and trademark owners. No copyright infringement is intended.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons is entirely coincidental.

  LINKS

  Blog … http://fayebyrdfiction.blogspot.com/

  Twitter … https://twitter.com/FYREBYRD89

  FB … https://www.facebook.com/FayeByrdFiction/

  Books …https://books.pronoun.com/fayebyrd/

  SHARP RIGHT TURN

  Book 2 in the Sharp Turn Saga, Sharp Right Turn, is already up for preorder. Be sure to grab your copy now! It can be found at the link above for books. Thank you for coming on this journey with me.

  Turn the page for an excerpt from chapter one.

  1 GREEN LIGHT

  Easy

  After the boys were down for their nap, Trystan made a call to his attorney. It was already on his list of priorities, but the timetable had been moved up drastically when his ex-wife contacted the hospital. He spent the next three hours on the phone, explaining the entire situation and forming a legal strategy.

  Now that we’ve learned Kennedy is lurking, we expect a confrontation at some point. Since our situation is such a rare one, it’s hard to predict the path it will take if it ever ends up in court. Trystan’s attorney assures him that her legal standing is baseless, but without much precedent, the courts will most likely hear any suit she chooses to bring. As a result, we’ve spent the past two weeks implementing every legal avenue available to solidify our places in the lives of our sons.

  During that time, we also learn more about each other, the boys, and strangely enough, ourselves. As someone who’s never considered another’s opinion when it comes to parenting, it’s a new experience. It doesn’t require much, though, as Trystan and I seem to balance out each other.

  Where I’m soft and nurturing, Trystan’s brash and boy-power. Each of our sons have small idiosyncrasies that clearly come from their rearing thus far. Cam is quick to need a boo-boo kissed, while Blake likes to shake them off. Cam hates getting dirty, and Blake doesn’t like to be clean. It’s a learning curve, but in the end, the boys are gaining valuable lessons. They each need a little of what they’ve been missing in their lives.

  Since the day we came home from the hospital, Trystan and Blake have been here. They leave each night around seven and are always back by eight every morning so Trystan can cook breakfast for everyone. Not once have the boys questioned it, and at this point, it’s even expected.

  Other things haven’t gone as smoothly, though. At Kari’s doctor’s appointment, the week Cooper returned to Chicago, her blood pressure was a concern. This put a screeching halt to their plans to come back over the weekend. As an alternative, Dr. Scott arranged it so they could go to Chicago Memorial and have their samples taken since Cameron was a top priority for us all.

  There was only one hitch; Bunnie and Reed Ashby. Trystan did speak to them when they called demanding answers, but he also refused to tell them over the phone. He pleaded with them to provide a sample in Chicago and promised he would explain when he saw them in person. They begrudgingly did as asked, but in the end, it didn’t matter, as no one was a close enough match.

  Kari’s been cleared now, and Trystan’s family is expected to descend on Atlanta this weekend. I’m quite excited for Cameron to meet them. Blake has gained a whole slew of new relatives since he’s been here, and I hope Cameron can do the same.

  As for Trystan and me, our game of chase is still ongoing, but it’s ever-evolving. There’s a lot of flirting, but the man who pushed me against the wall in that stairway is nowhere to be found. There’s thought behind his moves now. It’s just enough to remind me that he hasn’t given up, yet not enough to satisfy my ever-growing craving.

  If this is his plan, it’s working.

  Just as every other day at lunchtime, I’m sitting at the bar, watching as his back muscles flex and move under his T-shirt. I’m hypnotized by every stretch and twist of his arm. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away.

  “You want to go ahead and call the boys down? Lunch is almost ready,” he says over his shoulder.

  When I don’t respond, still lost in a haze of muscle and skin, he turns and waves his hand in front of me. “Hey, where’d you go?”

  I give my head a little shake and respond, “Oh, sorry. I was just uh … thinking.”

  He smirks and leans against the stove. “Yeah? What about?”

  “The fertility clinic.” He thinks he’s so smart, but I’m sma
rter.

  His face twists up like he just sucked on a rotten lemon.

  Check and mate.

  “Oh, what about it?” he asks with fake enthusiasm.

  “They said they might need as many as ten samples. I didn’t know if that was something you were willing to do,” I tell him as I trace one of the gray lines across the marble.

  His brows rise. “Ten? Why the fuck would they need that many?”

  I shrug and look down, my eyes following my fingers across the stone. “I’m not sure. They said they like to get a lot of samples in this type of situation. Just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” he prods, sounding slightly irritated.

  I continue looking away from him. “I don’t know. In case you change your mind after agreeing, or to make sure they have enough or because the thought of you in there doing that is enough to warrant ten times.”

  He chuckles. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you? They did not say that, did they?” His voice is closer than it should be, so I chance a look. He’s leaning across the counter; his green eyes so close I can’t look away.

  I swallow, his eyes flick down and back up, staring right into mine. “Do you think about me doing that, Easton? Do you wonder what I look like with my cock in my hand? Do you hope that I’ll think of you?”

  He stares so intensely that I’m caught.

  Caught in a web of lust.

  Caught in a situation I’m losing control of.

  Caught between what I want and what I think is right.

  Caught in this man’s grasp.

  With a simple yank, I’ll be pulled in completely.

  I jerk my eyes away.

  If I don’t look at him, he doesn’t have power over me. He moves even closer. The heat from his breath caresses my face as he speaks. “I won’t force you, Easton. You have to want it, too.” With those simple words, he goes back to the oven, opening it and pulling the pan of pizza from inside.