by Brynne Asher
Asa’s hand weaves its way through my hair, and when he gives my neck a squeeze to get my attention. I glance over, mortified for a myriad of reasons—the talk of babies is just the icing on the cake. When his eyes catch mine, he’s smirking and gives me a wink.
Shit, shit, shit.
My mouth instantly goes dry at the thought of making a baby with Asa, because from our first time together last night, I know I’d enjoy trying, but it’s the outcome that makes me want to break out into hives. I thought I did enough drinking yesterday for the next month, but all of a sudden something strong sounds appealing. I could use a case of wine or two to muddle out the embarrassment of brunch.
I swallow down two gulps of water and am just about to push away from the table to start cleaning up, because I’d rather scrub the floor behind my toilets with a toothbrush than sit through this misery any longer.
Before I can do that, I hear from my side, “Are you expecting anyone else?”
I look over and Asa is studying the screen on his phone. When he raises a brow, I shrug and shake my head, because the good Lord knows, I don’t need anyone else to torture me.
“What’s going on?” my mother asks.
Asa’s face turns hard and he gets up from his seat muttering, “Excuse me.”
I frown, watching him leave my dining room and head out the front door.
Levi clears his throat and tries to make an excuse for his dad. “It’s probably just a work thing.”
I give him a small smile and look across at Emma who’s pushed her food around her plate the whole meal. I feel the need to apologize to them both for what they had to sit here and witness for the past hour.
“Yes,” my father agrees with a satisfied look on his face. “Being self-employed, you always have to be available to the job.”
I find myself wishing I was twenty years younger so I’d have an excuse to be immature and roll my eyes.
My mother picks up her glass of wine and smiles brightly across the table. “Keelie, dear, how long has it been since he changed your flat tire?”
Fuck it. I do roll my eyes, because I just don’t give a shit. That is until I hear voices wafting in from where Asa left my front door standing open.
When they get louder, we all start to make out the words, and the first we hear are Asa’s, and they aren’t happy ones. “You should’ve called. I told you I’m taking care of it.”
“Where are they?” a woman’s voice demands. “I took the red-eye and had two layovers. I’m exhausted and since no one will answer their phones, I had to use the Find My iPhone app. Do you know how hard that was to do?”
Confused, I look around and am about to get up to see what’s going on with the man I had sex with last night, when I notice Emma sit up straight and all of a sudden become alert. She glares at her big brother, who closes his eyes as he shakes his head.
What the hell?
“Stop—” I hear Asa warn one last time, but the woman interrupts him.
“My daughter was in a drive-by shooting and I want to see for myself that she’s okay.”
Oh, fuck.
I pull in a breath and shift in my seat since my back is to the entryway just in time to see a woman stomp through the construction of my front porch. She’s at least five-foot-eight, slender, with thick, dark hair hitting her shoulders, and she’s dressed from head-to-toe in Lululemon. I’d know it anywhere because it’s the best workout gear on the planet—I can’t afford it, even when it’s on sale.
“Emma!” the woman exclaims and holds her arms out. “Come give me a hug. I have to see that you’re okay after the shooting!”
All eyes in the room who are related to me go big at the announcement of a shooting, and everyone in the room whose last name is Hollingsworth groans, as if they were shot at all over again.
“Well, I do declare,” Aunt Lillian Rose announces as she pours more syrup on her French toast casserole. “This is better than my evening shows.”
Chapter 19
Claustrophobic
Keelie
“Mo-om!” Emma drawls. “What are you doing here?”
My eyes jump to Asa, but he’s busy shooting daggers with his beautiful, dark, hazel eyes at the woman I can only assume is his ex-wife. He’s angry and the only time I’ve ever seen him like this was right after I was grazed with a bullet.
“Emma.” Her mother’s shoulders sag with what seems to be relief at the sight of her daughter. She sounds more exhausted than she looks. “I needed to see you—see that you’re really in one piece after the shooting.”
“You could’ve waited,” Levi points out. “We’re flying out to see you next weekend.”
“I tried to tell her that,” Asa growls.
Our new guest puts her hands to her hips, flustered. “Just you wait until you have your own children and find out one of them was in a drive-by shooting while you’re three-thousand miles away. You’ll drop everything in life to make sure they’re okay, too.”
My mother—who doesn’t even watch evening shows and is more cut off from the realities of the world than Aunt Lillian Rose—is aghast and looks at Emma. “Oh dear! You were in a drive-by shooting?”
I stand, my chair scraping across the hardwood, needing to cut this off before it spirals into a nightmare straight out of a Dateline Exclusive. I offer my hand to the worse-for-the-wear woman. “Hi, I’m Keelie.”
She doesn’t take my outstretched hand, but she does look me up and down, taking me in with an odd sort of look on her face.
“Keelie, this is Danielle Wegman, Levi and Emma’s mom.” Asa introduces me, and in a tone which tells me he wasn’t excited for this moment to arrive anytime in the next decade, let alone for it to happen this morning. He exhales a loud breath and continues. “And my ex-wife.”
Danielle looks to Asa but points to me. “This is Keelie Lockhart? The kids’ counselor?”
“Wait,” my father interjects from behind me. “You’re their school counselor?”
I ignore him and watch Asa confirm this for the room at large with a curt nod. Danielle swings her eyes back to me and all of a sudden, they’re filled with tears. She whispers, “You’re Keelie?”
I look to Asa confused, because it’s been confirmed multiple times now that I am, indeed, Keelie. Asa’s jaw is tense and he presses his lips into a firm, unhappy line.
But I shouldn’t have looked away. Asa’s eyes get big and the next thing I know, I’m almost bowled over by his ex-wife and the mother of his children.
Shocked by her invasion, I wince from my stitches being squeezed because I’m all of the sudden encased in the arms of Danielle Wegman. She’s sobbing—unruly and ugly tears—as she holds me in a tight embrace with my arms trapped between us.
“I don’t know how to thank you.” Danielle squeezes me tighter and I gasp from the pinching in my shoulder. “What you did—I’ll never be able to repay you. Thank you for saving Emma!”
“Um…” I start, but Asa interrupts as I sense him at our sides.
“Danielle, you’re hurting her. Let her go.”
She instantly releases me, but holds onto my forearms. Her face is a blubbery mess and she shakes her head. “I’m so sorry. Emma told me you had to have stitches from where you were shot.”
I groan.
Asa also groans.
“You were shot?!” my father bellows from the head of the table.
“Oh, my word!” my mother gasps, reminiscent of as scene from Gone With the Wind instead of standing in my dining room in the twenty-first century.
“Keelie Elizabeth!” Aunt Lillian Rose exclaims, sort of excited, her tone confirming this is way better than her evening shows.
“I can’t believe you were shot and didn’t call me!” Stephie exclaims.
Danielle ignores everyone and grips my hands, demanding my attention. “I’m so grateful. Emma told me how brave you were and Asa told me how you’re helping with her at school—”
“Mother!” Emma yells from a
cross the dining room.
Still, in a fashion that only Danielle must be known for, she carries on without any interference from anyone. “—and Levi told me how nice you are, letting them stay here after what happened until the repairs are done on Asa’s house. Thank you,” she gives my hands a squeeze, “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
By this time everyone is crowding us and I suddenly feel flushed—claustrophobic. I return her hand squeeze, though mine is as weak as the current state of my knees. “Ah … you’re welcome.”
“Mom.” Emma pulls her mom’s hands off me and when I look over, her face is a mix of something between embarrassment and frustration. Danielle forgets about me and wraps her daughter up in her arms. Even though Emma allows this, she looks at her dad with wide eyes and mutters to her mom, “Chill out.”
Asa shakes his head while Danielle holds Emma tight and keeps talking. “I’m just not used to being away from you both and then this happens. I had to see you.” She pushes her daughter back to get a good look at her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look skinnier, has that happened since the shooting?”
“Yes, the shooting,” my dad interjects from my other side. His face is tight and angry, standing stiff with his arms crossed. “Do tell us about this shooting, Keelie.”
I open my mouth to make something up, but Danielle butts in. “From what I know, she was so brave and saved my daughter’s life. I guess there were bullets flying from multiple guns. It happened in Asa’s driveway and Keelie was hit, but she shielded Emma with her body the whole time. Emma and Asa told me all about it. Keelie ended up with stitches but, thank God, they were both okay.”
Well, now. Those aren’t the words I would’ve chosen to use when lying to my family about how I was shot at—but what’s done is done.
My father’s eyes are as big as saucers, my mother looks like she might need smelling salts, Aunt Lillian Rose seems mildly impressed, and my sister, well, she looks like she might kick my ass for not telling her sooner.
Stephie narrows her eyes and glares at me.
Definitely—she’s definitely going to kick my ass.
“Levi,” Asa clips. “You and Emma take your mother to the family room. Now.”
“I’m sorry.” Danielle looks around. “It looks like I interrupted lunch.”
“How long are you here for?” Levi asks, and if I didn’t know better, he’s probably worried he’ll miss out on more time with his girlfriend.
“I fly back Tuesday. I don’t even know where I’m staying yet—I just couldn’t go another day without seeing you.”
A weird silence blankets the room, the type of uncomfortable quiet that forces one to do anything to make it go away so, like a fool, I open my mouth. “If you need a place to stay while you’re here visiting Levi and Emma, I’m sure I can make room—”
“No.” Asa’s voice comes out strong, cutting me off and pins me with a glare before turning it to his ex-wife. “I’ll get you a room. Levi, you and Emma take your mom to the family room and catch up there.”
Danielle tries to open her mouth again, but Levi takes his orders seriously, and pulls her from the room. “Better yet, let’s go outside. Come on, you can meet Keelie’s goats.”
The moment Danielle is dragged out of sight by her son with a very unhappy Emma trailing behind, Asa grabs my good arm and pulls my front to his side, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Are you okay?”
I shrug, giving my head a little shake. “I mean … that was a surprise.”
“Yeah,” Stephie agrees. “That was all a big, fucking surprise.”
“Stephanie,” my mother reprimands. “It’s Sunday.”
I feel Asa take a deep breath as he looks at my family. “My kids have had some problems at school and I’m in the process of flushing that out. Friday, Keelie was giving Emma a ride home when someone targeted my house. Danielle was right—Keelie saved Emma’s life. As indebted as I am for what she did, I’m pissed it happened to both her and my daughter. I’m doing everything I can to make it right, but I can promise it won’t happen again. Extensive measures have been taken to make sure everyone will be safe from here on out. You have my word.”
I steel myself for the barrage of questions, but when I look to my five closest family members, they’re just standing there staring at us.
Finally, Aunt Lillian Rose breaks the silence. “Was it like CSI after the shooting or is that all just for the television? I miss CSI. Miami was my favorite. I never understood a thing that happened on CSI-Cyber, but I guess I’ll always have my reruns.”
I lean my forehead on Asa’s shoulder and his arm constricts around me. I’ve never been more ready for a Monday. This has been the longest weekend ever.
*****
I hand a baking dish to my sister. I’m washing while she’s drying and figuratively kicking my ass with questions about the last two days.
My parents and Aunt Lillian Rose just left. I had to calm everyone and do my best to make a drive-by seem like not a big deal. I doubt they bought it.
“Lemme see where you got shot.” Stephie tugs at my top, pulling it down my other shoulder. She raises a brow, unimpressed with my gunshot wound to the shoulder, and goes back to drying. “I thought it would be bigger.”
I flick my wet fingers in her face. “Fuck you. It was traumatic.”
This time she gives me a somewhat sad but genuine smile. Putting her arm around me, she pulls me into a sideways hug and her voice goes soft. “I was just shitting you. I can’t imagine you going through that after what you’ve already been through. When do you go back to your therapist?”
I hadn’t even thought about Dr. Graystone. I started going to him during my angry phase about six months after David died. I hated going at the time, but Stephie dragged me. I was wound tight, mad at the world, and she informed me my kids could see it. Hell, looking back, I’d be surprised if there was anyone within a one-hundred-mile radius who couldn’t see it.
Dr. Graystone helped—at least that’s what everyone around me said. I went regularly for a year and have had a standing monthly appointment now for about the past six months or so.
“Actually, I think I’m scheduled to go this week.”
She reaches out to squeeze my hand. “That’s probably a good thing. I’m sure it brought back all kinds of feelings. You had unrealistic fears about Knox and Saylor losing you right after David died.”
I glare at her out of the corner of my eye. I know this and don’t like to be reminded of it.
“Do not cancel that appointment. Who knows what’s going on in that head of yours after being shot,” she warns.
My eyes wander to the window over my kitchen sink that looks over my pasture and hills. Levi’s girlfriend is here and he’s showing her around. Saylor is talking their ears off and Knox is playing basketball with his cousins and Shawn. Emma is with her mom and Asa, looking more miserable than I’ve seen her in days.
My eyes lock onto the man who’s sleeping in my bed. He drags his hand through his hair as he looks down at Emma while Danielle talks nonstop. He’s wearing a casual button-down—dressy compared to what he usually wears—with another pair of jeans and his usual work boots.
“I fell apart Friday night.”
I look over at her and she states the obvious. “You were hit by a bullet, Keelie.”
I shrug. “I know, but I was okay and I was safe. I knew I was safe and I still fell apart. It was ugly.”
“You’re too hard on yourself. You’ve always been that way, but more so since you’ve been on your own. Give yourself a break.”
I shrug and look back out to Asa.
“I had sex last night,” I announce, not looking away from the dark-haired man who’s done nothing but take care of me since I was shot in his driveway. In fact, now that I think about it, he hasn’t done much besides take care of everyone around him from the moment I met him.
I feel a hard jab to my good shoulder. “You did not.”
Only m
y eyes move to her. “I did.”
In slow motion, a huge grin takes over her face and she finally exclaims, “I’m so happy for you!”
I look back at Asa who’s glaring at his ex-wife in my backyard. As fucked up as this situation might look from the outside, I can’t help but admit, “I’m happy for me, too.”
“Keelie.” She pushes me again, turns off the water I was half-heartedly washing dishes with, and throws her towel at me. “I want details. Was it good?”
“Look at him.” I throw a hand toward the window. “How could it not be? It sort of just happened, but yeah, it was good.” I look back to her and widen my eyes. “Really good. The best I’ve ever had.”
Her grin shrinks into a smile. “Yeah? Well, are you gonna give me details?”
I wipe my hands and take a breath. “Since there’re seven kids who could barge in at any moment, not to mention Asa’s ex-wife standing in my backyard—no. But I will tell you, he didn’t hold back, he wasn’t gentle, we did it twice, and I came four times.”
Her eyes go big. “Wow.”
“And he gave me another orgasm this morning before he left my bed,” I add.
She smirks. “He’s a giver.”
Truer words have never been spoken.
She nods slowly. “I’m so glad you didn’t have sex with Stan.”
I feel my face screw up. “Holy shit! I’d never have sex with Stan-Stan, the sweater-vest man. Ew!”
She returns my ew face, but makes a valid point. “Yes, but you never would’ve met sexy-jeans out there had it not been for us setting you up with sweater-vest man.”
“Hello? I’m his kids’ counselor. I met him the following week.”
She shakes her head and points out the window to my new lover. “I’m totally taking credit for that.”
I roll my eyes and flip the water back on. “Whatever.”
Per usual, Stephie is unaffected by my brush-off. “So, you’re telling me that in the last forty-eight hours, you’ve been shot at, hit by a bullet, got stitched up in the back of an ambulance by an ex-marine, a man and his kids are living in your house, got drunk, had sex for the first time in more than two years, and then offered the ex-wife of your new lover to stay at your house while she’s in town?”
