Sharp Right Turn (Sharp Turn Saga #2)

by Faye Byrd

  I want Easton.

  And not just her body.

  I want her to be mine.

  But I’m not sure that’s love?

  “Nah, I’m not in love with her. I could fall in love with her, though. I just know I can’t keep having this detached sex that she wants,” I say, getting frustrated that even though I know I want more, I’m not sure how much more.

  “Have you told her this?” he asks quietly.

  “Well, duh. She knows I’m going to the clinic instead of fucking her now,” I say sarcastically, taking shit out on my brother when it’s not his fault.

  “Whoa, man, I get it. It stings a little, but I’ve been around you two, and it’s there, man, you just need to fight a little harder.”

  “I’ve decided to give her time,” I say, blowing out a breath.

  “Nah, man,” he says, gearing up to explain how wrong I am. “You have to show her what she’s missing. Some women are harder to win than others, but when they do fall, they fall completely.”

  I walk to the back door and call the boys in to wash up while I start plating their lunch. “You think I didn’t try that first?”

  “Apparently, you didn’t do a good enough job.” He laughs. “Hell, tell her you love her if you have to!”

  Flipping the sandwiches, I snort and move the fuck on from this crazy talking bullshit. “I’m just not there, man. Look, don’t you want to know the real reason I called? It’s kind of important.”

  “What’s so important that you’d rather talk about than how much you love Easy?” he asks, making kissy noises into the phone.

  “Actually, it’s pretty fucking important. Easton and I need to talk to you and Kari, and it needs to be in person. We’re thinking of flying up next weekend,” I say as the boys run through the kitchen.

  “Sounds serious,” he replies, all playfulness gone.

  I run my fingers through my hair, feeling anxious. “It is serious. I know it’s going to drive you mad wondering, but it can’t be discussed over the phone. Just know that it’s nothing bad, in fact, it could be pretty amazing.”

  “Okay,” he says, accepting my explanation. “Have you booked a flight yet?”

  “Nah, I wanted to talk to you first. It’ll just be a day trip. The boys are staying here.”

  “What?” he asks, snapping to attention. “It must really be serious if you’re flying out and returning the same day.”

  “It is, but don’t sweat it. I promise it’s nothing bad,” I say, grabbing three bowls and saucers from the cabinet. “It’ll be good to see everyone again. Not seeing you every few days sucks.”

  “Damn, bro, don’t make me all sappy and shit. We miss you and Blake like crazy,” he says, his voice sad.

  “Maybe you’ll up and join us down here one day,” I suggest as a joke, but I wish more than anything they would. I miss my brother terribly.

  “Yeah.” He sighs. “Maybe one day.”

  “All right, let’s move on from this depressing shit,” I say, decidedly.

  “True dat,” he agrees. “Will you be taking Easy to your house?”

  I haven’t really thought about it, but the answer is obvious. “Definitely. I’d love to share a little piece of home with her.”

  “Of course you would.” I can almost hear his eye roll. “Dude, you are so damn transparent.”

  “What?” I snap. “Why wouldn’t I want to share my home with her?”

  “You would, man, it’s only natural to want to share yourself with those you love,” he says, stressing the L word like a damn sissy.

  I fucking sigh and run my hand through my hair again. “Fuck, man. Just let it go … please. I told you, I’m not in love with Easton.”

  “You don’t love Mama?” I hear a sad voice a few feet away. My head snaps to the side, only to be met with Cam’s questioning, green eyes.

  Motherfucker!

  My hand tightens into a fist. “Coop, I have to go. Cam just heard that. I’ll call you later in the week.”

  I end the call and go to Cam, dropping to my knees in front of him. “Hey, buddy. Daddy didn’t know you were done with your hands. Come here.” I pick him up and sit him on the bar. “Where’s Blake?”

  “He washin’ his hands,” Cam replies.

  I sit on the stool between his legs where they dangle over the bar. “Dude, Daddy was just talking sh … uh, junk with Uncle Coop. You know I love you, and I like your Mama, too. A whole lot.”

  “But you not love her, though?” He holds his hands up and looks at me with those little, imploring eyes. I don’t know what to say to make it all better.

  I swallow, afraid of doing the wrong thing. “Cam, I love both you and your mama … very much.”

  His smile is huge. “You do?” he asks, excitedly.

  I simply nod my head and smile back at him, not sure how I feel about the words I just uttered. They didn’t feel wrong passing through my lips, but my mind is hung up whether they’re true or not.

  Do I really love Easton?

  Or was I just saying it to appease Cameron?

  I don’t have much more time to ponder because Blake comes charging into the kitchen with Blue right on his heels. The boys and I sit at the bar and have lunch while my mind thinks about what Coop suggested.

  Maybe I didn’t try hard enough.

  As soon as we’re done, I pack up a nice little lunch and get the boys dressed. Their nap will have to wait just a little longer today. It’s time I step up my game. Actions speak louder than words.

  I follow the GPS directions to Easton’s office building and realize I didn’t plan this very well. I’ve never been here before, and parking in Atlanta isn’t easy for someone unfamiliar with the area. I finally settle on a pay lot a couple hundred yards from her building.

  I put the backpack carrying Easton’s lunch over my shoulder and unbuckle the car seats. After getting the boys from the car, I take a hand from each of them, and we start up the sidewalk.

  Cam suddenly stops walking. “Look, Daddy Trystan, that’s my ice cream place.” He’s pointing to a little shop nestled in the row of buildings.

  “Your place?” I raise my brow.

  He nods his head up and down rapidly. “Uh, huh. I always get ice cream there when I come see Mama.”

  “You do?” I say, humoring him.

  “Yep. You takin’ us there?” he asks, already buzzing with excitement.

  “Maybe we’ll stop by after we see Mama, but right now we have to take her lunch.” I tug his hand, expecting him to follow.

  He doesn’t.

  He snatches his hand from mine and crosses his arms in a huff. “No! I want ice cream.”

  What the hell? I put my hand on his back to nudge him. “No, Cam. I told you we might stop when we’re done.”

  He stands firm. “I always get ice cream ‘fore I see Mama.”

  I take a deep breath. “I said after.”

  “No!” He stomps his foot.

  I drop down in front of him, getting face to face. “Cam, we’re going to take your Mama lunch, and then, if you’re good, we’ll stop by the ice cream shop,” I say in my most serious voice.

  I’ve never had to use this on him, so I’m not sure how he’ll respond. Easton does the hard disciplining in this family, and I probably should’ve taken notes. Not that I haven’t disciplined Blake plenty times before, but this isn’t Blake, and it’s a first for me.

  “No, Daddy, I want ice cream now!” He bursts into tears, and people are starting to side-eye us as they pass

  Instead of remaining upset at him, my heart overflows with love. This is the first time he’s called me just Daddy, but this isn’t exactly how I pictured it happening. I try to rein in my joy and get back to the situation at hand.

  “Cameron Ryan Wilder, you calm yourself down right this minute,” I say, hoping like hell the whole name thing works. “If you don’t stop, you’re not getting ice cream at all.”

  His cries only get louder, and I look around to see
that just about everyone is staring as they pass. I wave a dismissive hand. “Carry on, people. Nothing to see here.”

  “Daddy, you makin’ Cam cry,” Blake points out, looking between Cam and me.

  “I can see that, Blake,” I snap, then feel bad. “Sorry, dude. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Take us to get ice cream,” he says with a shrug. And it’s just that simple to a three-year-old. He leans over to Cam, trying to talk over his crying. “It’s okay, Cam. We get ice cream after we see Mama. Daddy said so.”

  “I said no! I want ice cream now!” Cam yells, and he’s almost hysterical at this point.

  I’m stunned and so completely unprepared for this outburst. I want to just say fuck it and take them for ice cream, but I know I can’t. I’m the parent here, and it’s time I get a hold of the situation one way or another.

  I put my hands on his little arms and speak over his wails. “Cameron, you’ll stop this crying right this second. We’re not getting ice cream at all. We’re going to see Mama, and if you don't come willingly, I can always pick you up kicking and screaming.”

  He just screams louder, and I’m at a loss.

  Think, Trystan, think!

  What would I do if this were Blake?

  Blake knows better than this bullshit.

  I grab him around the waist and lift him up, prepared to tote him kicking and screaming all the way to Easton’s office. People are staring, and I have to stop myself from telling them to mind their own fucking business.

  “Trystan?” I hear a familiar voice and turn to see Weston approaching. “Is everything okay?”

  I roll my eyes. “Nah, everything’s just peachy.”

  He walks over and lifts a crying Cam from my arms. “What’s the matter, angel?” he asks, wiping the tears from his face.

  “Daddy won’t get me ice cream. I always have ice cream.” He gives me a mean look as he explains to Weston what’s going on, hiccupping and sniffing the whole time.

  It makes me feel like shit.

  Weston humors him. “Aw, poor baby.”

  I snort. “I told him he could have ice cream after we visited Easton.”

  He stands him on the sidewalk and kneels in front of him, wiping his face with a napkin. “Cameron, you know better than to act this way. Your dad said he’d get you some later. What would your mama say if she saw this?”

  He sniffs a couple times and attempts to stop crying. “I be in trouble.”

  Blake nods. “Uh, huh. Mama not let us have ice cream if we cry like that.”

  Weston nods at him. “Yep, your mama would not be happy with you. Why would you do this to your daddy then?”

  Although I know I should be the one calming the situation, I can’t help but be relieved that Weston swooped in and Cam is drying his tears.

  I get down on my knees beside Weston. “I’m sorry that I upset you, dude, but you have to do as I say. I told you we’d get some later.”

  “Trystan, I can explain,” Weston says, placing a hand on my arm. “The only times Cam’s been here to visit is when I’ve taken him. Every time we come, we stop in for ice cream before we go up to see Easton. It’s kind of our tradition. I know that doesn’t excuse his behavior, but I guess when you said you were coming here, he automatically thought that meant he was getting ice cream first.”

  I blow out a breath. “I can see that,” I say to Weston and look back to Cam. “I think you owe Daddy an apology for the way you acted. I understand you were upset, but you can’t behave like that and expect to get your way.”

  He sniffles once more and reaches over to wrap his arms around my neck. “I sorry, Daddy. I not do it again.”

  The softness of his voice and the feel of his little arms around my neck, completely disarm me. And then to be called Daddy, too? I feel myself melting into this moment; freezing it in my mind to hold onto forever.

  I stand and pick him up with me, reaching out my other hand for Blake. “Come on, dudes. Let’s go take Mama her lunch.” I look to Weston. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate you stepping in to help.”

  “No problem.” He gives me his usual Weston flirty smile. “I could always …” He throws a thumb over his shoulder.

  I lift a brow. “What?”

  “I was just stopping in to see Ryder for a few minutes, and I’d be happy to take them for ice cream first,” he says and rushes ahead. “I mean if you don’t mind. You can go on up and see Easton, and I’ll bring them up when we’re done. It is our tradition after all, and I’d love to share it with Blake, too.”

  Cam’s head perks up from where it’s resting on my shoulder. “Can we, Daddy? I be good, I promise.”

  Blake adds a pout. “Please, Daddy. I love ice cream.”

  “Don’t you boys want to see Mama?” I ask, a little disappointed that we’d be so easily dumped.

  “We see her after ice cream,” Cam assures me with a nod.

  “You go see her while we eat ice cream. Then we come see her,” Blake reasons, nodding along with his brother.

  Weston chuckles and ruffles Blake’s hair. “These angels are amazing, Trystan.”

  “They are, aren’t they?” I agree with a contented sigh. “Okay, boys, I’m going to let you go with Uncle Weston to get ice cream”―both boys fist pump as soon as the words are out of my mouth―“but, next time we come, don’t expect this to be the routine. Got it?”

  “We got it, Daddy,” Blake answers. “Come on, Cam.

  Cam starts squirming to get down, but before he does, I hug him close. “I love you, buddy.”

  He kisses my cheek. “I love you, too, Daddy. See you when we done wif ice cream. Tell Mama I be there soon.”

  I chuckle and set him down to take Weston’s outstretched hand. “Sure thing, dude. You boys better be good.”

  Blake rolls his eyes. “We big boys. We be good.”

  I watch as Weston leads them into the little ice cream shop. Then I shake my head and make my way to Easton’s building. After reading the directory, I get on the elevator and hit the button for the eighth floor.

  When the doors open with a ding, I step out and make my way to the secretary’s desk at the end of the hall. The closer I get, the more familiar the caramel-skinned beauty seated behind the desk looks.

  My steps slow.

  Small fucking world.

  That morning in the gym seems like a lifetime ago.

  My walk turns into a swagger and a smirk forms on my lips. Maybe not exactly what I had in mind when I came here, but this has possibilities.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” I say as I approach her desk.

  She looks up at the sound of my voice, and a slow smile spreads on her full, red-tinted lips. “We meet again, only this time you’ve come to me. What can I do for you, Mr. …?”

  Instead of giving her my name, I answer her question. “I’m here to see Miss Wilder.”

  Her brow hitches. “Oh? She doesn’t have any appointments scheduled today. Actually, it’s her first day back from er … uh, vacation. I’ve been handling all of her meetings, so perhaps it’s me you wish to see?”

  I avoid her suggestion for a minute. “Small world, huh?”

  She licks her lips. “Very small world indeed.”

  “I probably need to apologize for my reaction on our last encounter. You see, that day was very stressful for me,” I say in a smooth voice.

  She leans forward, propping her forearms on her desk. “And is this a different day, with different circumstances?” she asks suggestively.

  Can I do this? Can I even think of flirting, dating … fucking another woman? A woman who isn’t Easton.

  No, I can’t.

  But I can pretend.

  “I’m not sure,” I say looking pensive. “It depends on what you have in mind.”

  She throws her head back and giggles. “Oh, I think you know very well what I have in mind.”

  I chuckle, propping my fists on her desk and leaning forward. Out of the cor
ner of my eye, I notice a body in the open doorway only a handful of feet away.

  Easton.

  “I know exactly―”

  Easton’s throat clears, and the secretary jumps. “Easy, I didn’t see you standing there.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t, Tasha,” Easton snaps, her arms crossed over her chest.

  Uh oh.

  Then she directs her laser beams at me. “Trystan.”

  Tasha gasps. “Trystan!”

  “Yes, Trystan,” Easton sneers, hardly giving her a glance. Her eyes are burning a hole through me. “Where are the boys?”

  I stand tall, not backing down. “They went for ice cream with Weston. He’ll bring them up in a little bit. I actually brought you lunch.”

  Tasha stands and puts her hands on her hips. “And why didn’t you just say that?”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” I glance at her and smirk.

  A huff brings my attention back to Easton. Her eyes are like shards of ice they’re so fucking cold, but the emotion behind her look has a name.

  Jealousy.

  “Lunch?” I ask as I walk in her direction, removing the backpack from my shoulders.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather share with someone else?” Her eyes have narrowed into slits as they flick to Tasha.

  “Oh, hell no,” Tasha says, wagging a finger between us. “I had no idea who he was, Easton. I’m sorry.”

  Easton sighs. “I know.” She turns and walks into her office, stopping to hold the door, her eyes demanding that I follow.

  I do as I’m bid, and when I’m through, she slams it shut with a bang. I take a deep breath before turning to face her, my own rage simmering just below the surface.

  How dare she? Who in the fuck does she think she’s fucking with? She doesn’t want me, yet she wants to act pissed because of some innocent flirting. Flirting I had no intention of following through with.

  But I could if I wanted to.

  She doesn’t own me.

  “What was that, Trystan?” she demands, and my ire grows.

  “What did it look like, Easton?” I sneer, because I can’t stop myself.

  “It looked like you were ready to fuck my secretary right across her desk!” Her voice is loud and shrill. A mixture of hurt and anger.