Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
NAT
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I asked, glancing at Asher, the fading light of the setting sun glinting off the natural lighter brown streaks in his hair.
As he’d driven us to my parents’ house for Sunday supper, he’d had one elbow resting on the center console between us while he balanced his left wrist on top of the steering wheel and sang along to the radio. As if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if we were just out for a Sunday drive with no destination in mind. As if we weren’t on our way to my very large, very opinionated family’s home to drop the bomb about our upcoming nuptials. The ones that’d be taking place tomorrow.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He lifted his gaze to meet mine over the top of the car as we tag-teamed grabbing the kids.
I shrugged as I helped June climb out. “Oh, you know, just my family,” I said, as if that would explain everything. And…it did. Without a doubt.
I loved them… most of the time, but there was no denying they were a handful. There was also no denying my momma, daddy, and gran were about to lose their collective shit when they found out what was happening.
For the past several days, I had been dodging my momma’s calls, but she’d left plenty of messages so I knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. Namely who this fiancée of Asher’s was that everyone had been talking about and why she hadn’t heard a word about it.
Obviously, I had known it was too much to hope that what had transpired in the courtroom had stayed in the courtroom. Too much to hope to have a tiny bit of privacy during my time in Havenbrook. Nope, I was certain the detail of Asher’s betrothed had spread like wildfire before the judge had even slammed down his gavel.
“Are Ava and Ella gonna be here?” June asked, tugging me as she skipped up the front walk lined with freshly planted flowers.
“I’m not sure, Junie B. They might be at their daddy’s this weekend.”
June puffed out her bottom lip in a pout and slumped her shoulders. “But I like playin’ with them,” she said, her voice the closest to a whine I had ever heard.
“Well, if they’re not here, I can promise you my momma’ll entertain you. Sometimes the girls help her bake a pie—maybe you can be her helper tonight.”
June beamed up at me before turning back toward Asher. “I might bake a pie, Uncle Asher!”
He caught up with us and ruffled June’s hair as we climbed the front porch steps—also lined with freshly planted flowers—the empty swing swaying in the warm breeze. “I heard, Junebug. Just don’t put any worms in mine.”
The little girl tossed her head back and giggled. “Worms don’t go in pies, silly!”
“They don’t?” Asher asked, feigning confusion. “Then don’t eat the pie that’s in the fridge at home, okay? I need to throw it out.”
That only made June laugh harder, the sound urging a smile to my lips as I watched the interaction between those two. While I’d known Asher for two decades, seeing this side of him was something altogether new, and I’d been completely immersed in it since I’d arrived. I couldn’t deny how much I loved it.
“That’s so gross, Uncle Asher!”
“Your uncle is pretty gross, isn’t he?” I said, pulling even more giggles from June.
Once we made it to the front entrance, Asher reached over my head and grabbed the screen door, holding it open for us as he leaned down toward my ear. “A gross man you agreed to marry. Who’s the sucker now?”
As I’d become used to over the past several days, two different emotions warred inside me whenever he mentioned exactly what I’d agreed to—dread over intentionally and purposely trapping myself in this town, and then there was the very real exhilaration over tying myself to him , specifically.
Before I could respond, the front door whipped open, and there stood my momma. Caroline Haven might’ve had four grown daughters and two granddaughters, but she was still a knockout. She’d been Miss Mississippi back in the day—a title Rory could claim as well—and she still looked the part in her pristine pale-pink skirt and ivory blouse, her gray-streaked dark hair pulled back in a twist.
Meanwhile, I wore flip-flops, a pair of ripped jeans, and a white tank top that would no doubt be food-stained by the end of the night. I usually let my hair air-dry after my shower, which meant it was a not-quite-straight, not-quite-curly, completely unruly mass. My momma and I were as different as night and day, but I loved her all the same.
“Thought I heard a bunch of commotion out here. Why didn’t y’all come in?” Momma asked, a bright smile on her face even as her gaze pinged to each of us, as well as somewhere over my shoulder. Probably looking for the elusive, soon-to-be Mrs. McCoy.
“Asher was nervous,” I said, stepping inside without a backward glance toward him.
He huffed out a laugh. “I promise I wasn’t nervous, Miss Caroline.”
“Well, of course not! What on earth would you have to be nervous about?” She tsked and swatted my shoulder. “She’s just messin’ with you, like she loves to do.”
I nodded. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes, it’s true.”
“Now, let me see these babies!” She plucked Owen straight from Asher’s arms without asking, cooing at him before she squatted in front of June, a soft smile on her face. “I’m so glad you’re both here! And the girls are especially thrilled you’re here, June. If your uncle says it’s okay, you can go on into the backyard and play.”
June bounced on her tiptoes, tugging on the hem of Asher’s T-shirt, the move jostling it just enough to give me a tiny peek of toned stomach and a glimpse of the trail of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. I’d seen him without a shirt on countless times, so there was no good reason for my lips parting just from catching this glimpse.
“Can I? Can I ?” June asked.
He chuckled low under his breath. “Yeah, but be careful. And no cupcakes!” he yelled after her retreating form.
“Can someone please show Miss June into the backyard with the girls?” Momma called toward the murmur of voices coming from the back of the house where the rest of the family no doubt was.
She turned her attention back on Asher, her eyes laser focused even as she entertained a squirmy Owen in her arms. “Now, how’re you holdin’ up, sweetheart?”
Asher nodded and swallowed. “I’m okay,” he said, though I heard enough in his tone to know his words weren’t entirely true.
While we hadn’t specifically talked about it since my arrival, I knew he was still bearing the weight of everything—not just his sister’s and brother-in-law’s deaths, but suddenly being thrust into the role of guardian…Dad, for all intents and purposes.
So, no, he wasn’t actually okay. But I was doing my damnedest to help him get there.
“Well, we’re here if you need anything . Don’t you hesitate to ask. And remind me before y’all leave, I’ve got a couple casseroles I’m gonna send y’all home with, too,” Momma said, walking down the hallway, no doubt assuming we’d follow.
That was Caroline Haven for you—quietly commanding and sweet as pie so you didn’t even realize you were being bossed around.
Amused, I glanced at Asher with raised brows, and he slung an arm around my neck, tugging me into his side. Though, like usual, he tugged too hard, and I had to catch myself with one hand on his back and the other on his stomach.
It was a move we’d made a hundred times before—one I’d never thought twice about. But now, I couldn’t help but notice how warm and solid his abs felt beneath my hand or how close my other one was to brushing the curve of his ass.
Sleeping in the same bed as him, waking up to find our limbs—at the very least—tangled together had completely fucked with my mind.
“Quit manhandlin’ me,” I murmured, using it as an excuse to pull away slightly.
He snorted softly and whispered, “As if anyone could unless you allowed them to.”
Unaware of our convo, my mom glanced back at us over her shoulder as we strolled into the great room where the voices only grew louder. “Now, what’s this about cupcakes? I didn’t bake any—was I supposed to?”
As I suspected, everyone was there—Will and Finn, Rory and Nash, Mac and Hudson, as well as my ornery daddy and feisty Gran. The French doors leading to the back patio and the play set just beyond it were open, and the laughter of my nieces and June floated in.
“No, not at all,” Asher said. “June had a few too many cupcakes and got sick the other night.”
“Oh no! Poor little thing.”
“Yeah. And, if you want the truth of it, it was all Nash’s fault,” Asher said, completely straight-faced.
“Hey!” Nash said from where he lounged on the sectional in the family room, Rory tucked into his side.
“What, you’re denyin’ it?” Asher tugged me along with him, as comfortable in my childhood home as I was.
He’d spent nearly as much time there as I had while we’d grown up—when we’d spent time indoors, anyhow. Usually, it was our preference to be out running around and causing all sorts of trouble instead of under the extremely watchful, extremely suffocating eye of the—at one time—town mayor.
“Hell yes, I’m denyin’ it,” Nash said, sounded affronted.
Asher shrugged. “All I’m sayin’ is Nat and I had to clean up puke after you left, and it was all thanks to those cupcakes you brought over from The Sweet Spot.”
With one eyebrow raised, Hudson asked, “Are you sayin’ my sister’s cupcakes are that bad?”
“God, no. They’re a favorite.” Asher sat at one corner of the couch and pulled me down next to him. “What I’m sayin’ is, Einstein over here didn’t need to bring over a dozen cupcakes for three sugar-crazy girls.”
“Four,” I corrected with a thumb pointed at myself.
“I’m only takin’ the blame for bringin’ ’em,” Nash said. “It’s your fault she ate so damn many.”
“You talkin’ about me or June?” I asked.
“Wait—go back to the part where you said you and Nat cleaned it up,” Mac said, her eyes wide and lips parted in shock.
Rory nodded. “Yeah, are you sure you weren’t delirious and imagined it all?”
Will—the gentlest Haven—still razzed me. “Maybe you meant she laughed and pointed while you cleaned it up?”
“Shut up, brats,” I said on a laugh. “I pulled that vomit-laden shirt off June before gettin’ her scrubbed clean in a bath.”
“And what’d you do with the shirt?” Finn asked from where he lounged in a chair, his arm around Will’s hips as she sat on the arm.
I shrugged, unrepentant. “I threw it at Asher.”
A heaping dose of laughter erupted around the room, along with a chorus of responses.
Momma said, “Now why would you go and do a thing like that?” at the same time Gran said, “That’s my Nat,” with a twinkle in her eye.
“Sounds about right,” Daddy said. Then, under his breath, he continued, “Girl’s never done an honest day’s work in her life. She certainly wouldn’t start with vomit.”
In all my twenty-six years, I had never been able to hold my tongue when it came to my daddy, which was why the words were tumbling out before I could even think twice. “You’re right—I should probably start with solitaire. Maybe pull in a paycheck from the town while I’m at it. Can you give me some pointers at that, Daddy?”
Mac pressed her lips together though her shoulders shook with silent laughter. Will bit her bottom lip in what appeared to be an effort to stop her smile, though Finn didn’t have any qualms and beamed a full-toothed grin. Even Rory seemed to be struggling at holding it together, considering she was currently turned toward Nash, who met my eyes, his filled with laughter. Gran smirked behind her usual predinner cocktail as Daddy’s face grew redder with each passing second.
“Now, just a minute, young lady. I did a lot more than that in my time servin’ as mayor.”
“Of course,” I said with a definitive nod. “There was also the golf, which took up many an afternoon. ’Fraid I’m not much for that particular pastime, though. Now that you’re no longer the mayor, have you had business cards printed up for bein’ a professional pain in the ass?”
I knew I shouldn’t goad him, especially considering his heart attack and subsequent open heart surgery several months back. But the truth was, I lost every bit of my brain when I was around my daddy. I’d avoided Havenbrook as much because of him as the town.
“Well,” Momma said, handing off Owen to me. “I think that’s the cue for dinner. Y’all wash up and call the girls in. Rory, Will, Mac—will y’all set the table, please?”
Mac huffed and rolled her eyes. “What, Nat gets off scot-free? Figures.”
“I believe your sister has her hands full with a baby, does she not?” Momma shot back, one eyebrow raised.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mac mumbled, shooting a halfhearted glare my way, to which I only responded with a smug smile.
“Finn, Nash, and Hudson, would y’all mind carryin’ in the serving platters, please?”
A chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” went up, and I grinned at how all five foot two inches of my mom could command grown men a foot or more taller than her without batting an eye.
“Asher, there’s a high chair in the laundry room, if you wanna grab that for Owen.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stood, and there was no good reason I had for immediately missing the heat of his body where it had been pressed against mine.
“Am I gonna be able to actually eat this meal, or did you prepare me a salad, Caroline?” Daddy pushed to stand from his recliner, and I couldn’t help but notice it took him longer than usual to do so.
I felt a pang of guilt for ragging on him like I usually did instead of taking it easy. True, I’d been home more in the past few months post-surgery than I had in the previous few years combined, but I still wasn’t here day in and day out to monitor his progress—or his decline.
“You’ll eat what I feed you without complaint, Richard,” my momma called from the kitchen, not even bothering to spare my dad a glance.
“Wouldn’t count on that, honey,” Gran said, just loud enough for me to hear.
The two of us shared a smile. While I had missed my sisters and momma since I’d been gone—and, okay, sometimes my daddy—I’d ached to be near Gran most of all. My grandma had always been the one to encourage me…all of the Haven girls, really.
Whether it was photography or travel or simply climbing trees, Gran had encouraged me to do what I loved without caring what anyone else thought of it. Truthfully, I owed my grandma for every ounce of the stubborn, strong, independent woman I’d become.
“Well, don’t just sit there,” Gran said. “Come over here and help an old lady up. Your daddy’s about to whine again to your momma, and I don’t wanna miss hearin’ her put him in his place.”
I laughed and set down Owen, who immediately took off in a crawl. In a panic, I realized I hadn’t checked to make sure the area was safe and quickly scanned the room to ensure there weren’t any knives or hot pokers lying around.
Once that was confirmed, I walked over to Gran and offered her a hand. It was an excuse, of course, because Gran was probably in even better shape than I was. She walked every day with her friends, usually cruising the Square with their ankle and wrist weights before the sun started beating down and baking everything to a crisp.
Now that we’d just tiptoed into May and were coming up on Satan’s ballsac season, they’d no doubt be finding somewhere else to get in their daily gab—err, exercise—session. Though, knowing Gran, Edna, and the rest of the old lady posse, they’d probably buy a gym membership for the eye candy alone.
“You didn’t need me for this.” I helped Gran up while keeping one eye on a cruising Owen.
“You’re right. I just wanted to get my hands on that baby, and then you went and put him down anyway.”
“Just usin’ me, huh? That’s brutal, Gran.”
“Eh,” she said, unbothered. “Come and visit me more often if you want me to be nicer to you. And get me that baby.”
I laughed and scooped up Owen as he attempted to zoom past. Gran held out her arms for him, and he leaned into her without pause, babbling and drooling away.
“Well, aren’t you just a sweet one?” Gran said, leading us toward the dining room.
“Yeah, he is. But he’s gonna be a challenge. He’s already tryin’ to escape his crib, and he’s not even nine months.”
“That so?” Gran asked. “Sounds like trouble. Speakin’ of, when’re you gonna give me another great-grandbaby?”
“What?” Momma said, her voice quick as a whip as her eyes darted to mine before dropping to my stomach.
My daddy wasn’t nearly as chill, and his sharp, “ What ?” could’ve killed a man if words were weapons.
“See what you did now, old woman?” I said to Gran before facing the room and rolling my eyes. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh, thank heavens,” Rory said with a heavy exhale, sinking back into her seat at the dining room table. “I don’t think the world’s ready for another one of you just yet.”
Daddy rubbed his chest. “Don’t go spoutin’ off nonsense like that, Momma. You’ll give me another heart attack.”
“That’s not funny, Daddy!” Will and Mac snapped simultaneously.
“Who said I was jokin’?”
“Everyone can relax,” I said. But since I did have some news to drop, now was probably a good time. I met Asher’s gaze from across the room where he was striding to his spot after getting June set up at the kiddie table. “Actually, while everyone is all worked up, I might as well spill the news.”
“Don’t tell me Will is pregnant.” Daddy stabbed a finger toward Finn, his eyes nothing more than narrowed slits. “If you knocked up my daughter mere weeks before the weddin’, I’ll?—”
Finn held up his hands. “Don’t worry, Dick, we’re usin’ protection.”
“Oh my word .” Will groaned and dropped her head into her hands, no doubt covering her beet-red face.
“Now’s probably a good time. Distract ’em and all,” Mac said in my ear as she strode to her place at the table next to Hudson.
Asher took a seat to the left of my usual spot, his attention fixed on me. Ava, Ella, and June were all chatting animatedly at their side table, and Owen babbled happily in the high chair Momma had placed between her and Gran, but everyone else stared silently at me, waiting for my big proclamation.
I took my time, even with all eyes on me, and sat down, unfolding the cloth napkin before placing it in my lap. “Asher and I are gettin’ married tomorrow. Could someone pass the mashed potatoes, please?”