Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
NAT
At Asher’s and my wedding, things had been awkward. Not only had it all been sprung on us, but we’d also been dancing around each other, trying to balance the public persona of being in love, all while having experienced the mind-blowing kiss that morning in our bedroom.
Today couldn’t have been more different. While our paths hadn’t crossed much thanks to my bridesmaid and sisterly responsibilities, I’d felt his eyes on me all day. When Will and Finn had said their vows, I’d made the mistake of seeking him out.
He’d sat sandwiched between my momma, who had June in her lap, playing with her pearl necklace, and Gran, always the baby hog, entertaining Owen. And despite getting slapped in the face by a wayward baby fist, Asher hadn’t looked away from me.
I’d felt this overwhelming tug to go to him. Which was stupid for so many reasons. I hadn’t ever been controlled by my emotions. And besides, the emotions I was feeling now were just residual from the day’s festivities and my concern over the outcome of the custody hearing coming up.
It hadn’t mattered how much I’d wanted to go to him anyway, because my task list was full. First, there were the group photos with the definitely-not-as-good-as-me photographer. Then, I’d been pulled into a hundred different conversations with Havenbrook townsfolk, all of whom acted like they hadn’t just talked to me a couple weeks prior at my own wedding. And, of course, I’d had to make sure Will had been well fed and had plenty of water throughout the day, especially now knowing she was pregnant.
Watching the bride and groom had made me ache in a way I wasn’t at all familiar with. How Finn had looked at Will, how he’d held her—like she was precious. I’d snapped a photo of them when they no doubt thought no one was watching. They’d been off in a corner, Finn’s arms surrounding her, his hand resting on her belly, lips pressed to her temple. It was love captured in a single moment.
I had no idea why seeing them like that had me missing Asher. All day, we’d been like ships passing in the night. We hadn’t managed anything more than a quick kiss as we traded places, Asher passing the kids off to me as he grabbed his guitar and prepared to play for Will and Finn’s first dance.
All I could say was thank God for my nieces, because Ava and Ella were laughing and playing with June, keeping her occupied while I focused on Owen. He was contentedly sucking down a bottle in my arms, which meant I could focus on the man who’d taken the stage.
Asher wore what he’d worn to our wedding, and the sight stirred something deep inside me, a wave of possessiveness enveloping me, especially when his ring caught my eye.
He sat in the lone chair onstage, his guitar in his lap, and ran a hand through his hair before adjusting the mic. “How y’all doin’ tonight?”
The murmur of the crowd lowered until a hush fell over the room, everyone no doubt as mesmerized by his presence as I was. He’d always been magnetic on a stage—didn’t matter if he was the solo performer in a dive bar or if he was playing in a band with the lights of an arena on him.
“No, you didn’t get lost and end up at an open mic night,” he said, one side of his mouth kicking up in response to the crowd’s laughter. “Will asked me to come play for y’all tonight. So how about we get the bride and groom out here for their first dance?”
Finn led Will onto the dance floor, spinning her out and away from him before pulling her in close. My sister laughed as she crashed into Finn’s chest, the two of them looking at each other like they were the only people in the room. And that damn ache settled in my chest again. Reflexively, my fingers twitched to capture the moment with my camera, but my hands were a little full.
It didn’t matter anyway, because my attention was snagged by the man strumming his guitar.
I returned my gaze to Asher, and our eyes locked as the first words of the song I’d yet to hear filtered out in his deep, gravelly voice.
I wanna breathe you in, to keep you inside.
But that’s only a cell, ’cause you were born to fly.
I’d been in the audience during those first open mic nights, when there were three people in the room—including me. I’d been backstage when he’d played on tour with Wade Grant. I’d even been the one recording the video of him singing at The Bluebird Cafe that had gone viral. But none of the hundreds of times I’d listened to him sing had ever felt like this.
If I let you go, will you come back to me?
’Cause if so, baby, I’d set you free.
He strummed the chords, his fingers moving effortlessly over the strings. Fingers that had played my body just as well. His voice was a husky croon as he sang into the mic, his gaze that I felt straight to my toes locked on mine.
I can’t keep pretending, don’t wanna try.
But, baby, you were born to fly.
I had little doubt that every single woman in the audience and a few of the men probably felt the exact same way I did. That was Asher’s job as a performer—to sell the performance. It didn’t matter that I was wearing his ring. Not really. Not when it wasn’t real.
Can’t stand the sight of you walking away, but I won’t beg you to stay.
I don’t know what’s right, don’t know what to do
The only thing I’m sure of is that it’s always been you…
Asher sang the last chorus of the song, his eyes closed when the final note floated from his lips. Applause erupted in the space, snapping me out of whatever crazy trance I’d gotten locked in.
What was I doing ? Getting lost in his eyes and pretending like the song he probably wrote for my sister’s first dance had been for me?
I blinked out of my daze when Owen plucked the empty bottle from his mouth and shook it. “All gone, buddy,” I said, lifting him upright to burp. “Just so you know, if you puke all over this dress, your auntie Will is gonna be super mad.”
“How about you let Auntie Mac give it a try, then?” Mac asked as she slipped into the seat next to mine.
“Nah, it’s fine. I got it. Besides, she’d be just as mad at you. At least if he throws up on me, I actually signed up for it.”
“That’s what spit-up rags are for.” Mac peeled it off my shoulder and placed it on her own. She reached for Owen, smiling when the baby gripped her face between his tiny fists with a laugh. “Besides, thought you might wanna go break up the groupie fest surroundin’ Asher. Your husband . You know, for appearance’s sake.”
I snapped my head around to where Asher stood on the stage, bending to put his guitar back in its case. Two women I recognized from high school stood flanking him, their laughter a little too loud, their touches a little too familiar. I set my jaw and pushed to stand.
“Excellent actin’ skills,” Mac said dryly. “I’m sure everybody in here is gonna buy the fake jealous wife act. It is fake, right?”
I ignored her as I strolled toward the trio, my vision going red when one of them brushed their hand up and down Asher’s biceps before squeezing. Just who the hell did these women think they were, touching a man who clearly wore a wedding ring? My wedding ring.
Surprisingly, I’d never gotten in a physical fight before—with women, anyway, though I’d handed men their asses a time or two in my life. But I wasn’t opposed to starting something tonight. I probably wouldn’t be detained for assault once I pled my case—that these two were hitting on my very hot, very fake husband, and what was I supposed to do? Just stand by and let it happen?
“Not sure why you’d need to buy me a drink at an open bar,” Asher said flatly to the women, and if I hadn’t been seeing red, I probably would’ve smiled at that. He was giving the ladies the cold shoulder as best he could, his attention solely focused on his guitar.
He stood, still bent over his case, and glanced up, face blank before he did a double take and straightened at my approach.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low.
I slipped right between the two women, not sparing them a single word when my focus was on him. On this ridiculous, unfounded jealousy that felt like a volcano inside me, suddenly erupting after lying dormant for years. I reached up and under his vest, flattening my hand against his abdomen. I pressed up on my tiptoes, wrapped my fingers around his neck, and tugged his face down to mine.
Without hesitation, he crashed his mouth into mine. This kiss was nothing like the ones we’d shared at our wedding. Nothing like any we’d shared in a public setting before now. Those had been chaste. Tame, for all intents and purposes. Fake.
But nothing about this one was fake. Not the way his lips moved under mine, or how his tongue stroked into my mouth, or how he gripped me, so tight against him. As if he couldn’t bear to be separated from me for even a moment. As if he never wanted to let me go.