Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
NAT
I couldn’t believe Asher had been doing this by himself for days before I’d arrived. I was exhausted, still reeling from jet lag. He’d only been gone for two hours, and I already felt like I’d been trampled by a herd of elephants, then tossed in a dumpster, only to be emptied into a garbage truck, and then discarded in a pile of rubble.
So yeah, me and this whole in-charge-of-two-humans thing were getting along great.
“Nat, why don’t you come in here and help us?” my momma called from the kitchen where she, June, and Gran were currently baking a batch of peanut butter cookies.
Since my visits to Havenbrook were few and far between, Momma and Gran always tried to soak up as much time with me as they could, never knowing when I’d land again. Despite telling them I was here for a little while until Asher got things squared away, they’d still shown up right after he’d left.
And considering I wasn’t all that confident in my abilities to handle two kids by myself, I’d welcomed them in with open arms.
I may not have known much, but I did know it wasn’t wise to leave an eight-month-old baby who was dead set on getting into everything he wasn’t supposed alone.
So, I stood and swept up a drooling, smiling Owen, bringing him close and munching on his neck to his deep belly laughs. “Should we see what everyone’s doin’?”
I rounded the corner into the kitchen, darting my gaze around the space as I took in Momma and June in their matching aprons, Gran sitting at the counter where the duo was working.
The kitchen was spotless, despite sounding like a battle had taken place in there. I didn’t know why I was surprised, though. I’d seen it enough times in my childhood home when my nieces had been helping my momma out. Somehow, that miraculous woman managed to keep things clean even when faced with a human hurricane. Meanwhile, my kitchen became messy even if all I did was boil water.
“I’ve got my hands full with this one,” I said, tickling Owen’s round belly. “But I will happily be the taste tester. In fact, why don’t you just shovel a spoonful right in my mouth, Junie B?” I opened my mouth and leaned toward her.
Instead of responding, she fell into a puddle of giggles on the counter. “We have to cook them first, silly!”
Probably wasn’t the best time to tell this impressionable child that, in an act of utter rebellion, I had eaten my way through an entire tube of cookie dough during a single episode of Supernatural , and I’d only felt a little sick by the time the credits were rolling. But I was pretty sure that had more to do with the questionable moo goo gai pan I’d had before I’d started my gluttonous adventure than it had to do with the cookie dough.
“Well, what’re you waitin’ for, then? I want some cookies, and your uncle definitely ?—”
The side door opened, and Asher stepped into the house, his eyes bouncing around the space before locking with mine for a millisecond and then sliding away. But that millisecond was all I needed.
I’d been friends with him a long time, had witnessed him growing from an almost-shy newcomer to a lanky, gangly adolescent to a mysterious teen heartbreaker all the girls in our school were going crazy over to a self-assured man who probably had to beat off groupies with a stick. It also meant that in those tens of thousands of looks we’d shared, I could read the tiniest inflection, even when he probably didn’t intend it to be there.
All that to say something was off. The only thing I couldn’t quite figure out was if this off was good or bad.
“Are those cookies?” he asked, eyeing the pan full of cookie dough balls in front of my momma and June, all while totally avoiding my questioning gaze.
“See, I told you he’d want them.” I bounced Owen on my hip, his face immediately breaking into a wide grin as he held his arms out to Asher.
“Hi there, sweetheart,” Momma said, shooting Asher a smile. “We’re just about to pop ’em in the oven. Shouldn’t be more than a little bit before they’re ready.”
“Can’t wait. Did Gran and Nat already eat half the batter?”
“How dare you,” I said at the same time Gran responded, “What I do in my spare time is none of your concern, young man.”
With a grin, Asher tossed his keys on the counter and strolled straight toward me, his eyes connecting with mine again for a moment. Oh yes, there was most definitely something he wasn’t telling me.
“Hi, buddy.” He gathered Owen and tossed him in the air once before holding him against his chest, propped up on one solid, muscled forearm. “What’d I miss?”
“Miss Caroline and Gran took me to get ice cream!” June shouted.
Asher shot me a look out of the corner of his eye, one that said, Fucking fantastic, I thought I left you in charge . Now we’ve gotta deal with Sugar Satan again tonight .
I stared back with one eyebrow raised, my expression hopefully saying something along the lines of, Are you new here? Next time you want someone to tell my momma or gran no, it’s gonna have to be you . I must’ve gotten the message across, because his shoulders sagged slightly, and he turned his gaze back to his niece.
“Is that so?” he said.
“Mhmm.” My momma nodded. “Owen was napping, and Nat was in the shower.”
“You don’t mind, do you, sugar?” Gran asked.
I looked at him with a raised brow, daring him to speak up now. See how well he did telling my momma and gran that he really wished they wouldn’t have.
“No, ’course not.”
“Can we put them in yet, Miss Caroline?” June asked.
“Well, I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day. Do you know how to set the timer?”
June nodded enthusiastically before jumping down from her perch on a chair. She dragged it across the kitchen floor and climbed back up as she waited for my momma to slip the tray of cookies into the oven. Once that was done, June leaned over and pressed the timer button. “How much time?”
“Oh, I think about eleven minutes will do just fine. Now then, we better clean up.”
I nearly laughed at that because there wasn’t anything to clean up, but still, Momma ushered June over to the sink to wash her hands.
“Everything go okay at your appointment, sugar?” Gran asked, her eyes studying Asher much like mine had.
“Everything’s fine, Gran,” he said, but his voice was all wrong. And, when he slid another glance toward me, my hunch was confirmed. I had no doubt there was more to this than he was saying. “Nothing to worry about.”