CHAPTER 59
Olivia
JANUARY
THIRTY-SIX WEEKS, FIVE DAYS
“ T he baby isn’t going to kick just because your head is there,” I giggle, naked in bed with Asher as he drops tiny little kisses to my almost thirty-seven-week belly.
Every night feels like this, like we’re in suspended time waiting for our baby and even though it feels perfect, and even though I know how much Asher loves me, I have an underlying feeling of worry.
I’ve chalked it up to a fear of the unknown and for a planner like me it makes sense.
I’m afraid to to become a mom, and afraid of not being enough for both the baby and Asher.
“Come on, little bear, say hi to Daddy.”
“He’s running out of room,” I tell him. And it’s true. I can’t imagine another three weeks of growing because, at this point, I feel like an overstuffed turkey. I’m still measuring for the beginning of February, but the baby is big, which is not surprising because their daddy is a giant.
“Take a sip of the smoothie,” Asher commands. “I read if you take a cold drink, it can get her to move.”
I rake my fingers through his thick hair as I peer down at him.
“Her? You’re awfully convinced, aren’t you?” I say. “And since when did you become a fountain of knowledge?”
“Gotta read the baby books, Livi girl.”
I take a sip of the fresh juice and shift my hips just a little, right at the precise moment Asher slides his broad palm over my growing bump. Our eyes lock when we both feel it, the firm little boot for changing my position when our little nugget wasn’t ready.
“Holy fuck, that was a good one.” His mouth falls open and he grins so wide it melts my heart as another kick knocks right against his splayed palm.
Asher goes crazy at the movement, kissing my belly over and over.
“Daddy loves you so fucking much, little bear,” he whispers against my belly.
Snow is falling outside the house. A lot of it for January in Kentucky. It’s been piling up for hours, but I don’t mind; I’m perfectly cozy here in bed with this beast of a man.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to say ‘fuck’ to the baby,” I huff out, shifting slightly to ease the ache in my back that has been bothering me all damn day.
“Shit, right.” He laughs, and then he’s kissing my belly, kissing my lips, hovering over me with the biggest smile on his face.
“I love you, woman,” he rasps against my lips, sending that familiar thrill through me.
He kisses me for a few moments, stopping only when his radio and his phone start to alert.
He’s on call tonight, and this is not the first time work has interrupted my being ravished by him. I’m also sure it won’t be the last.
“Fuck,” he mutters, climbing off me and pulling the alert up. “Yeah, I gotta go. But stay right where you are,” Asher orders, wrangling his clothes on around his hardened cock.
I laugh. “For hours?”
“I’ll be as fast as I can,” I hear him call out from down the hall. Then the front door closes and his truck starts. The ache between my thighs is still very much there when I hear him pull out of the driveway.
I realize I am going to have to keep myself busy or I’ll be reaching for my vibrator before he gets home, so I stand and get dressed.
The office has now been fully cleaned out to make way for the baby, and Asher and I have spent the last few weekends painting the walls a soft sage green and putting shelves and a closet organizing system in place.
All the baby clothes, bedding, and toys have now been washed, and I’ve been folding them and hanging them a little at a time while Asher works.
Tonight’s plan is no different as I have a nice long shower—letting the hot water pelt against my aching lower back—before blow-drying my hair carefully, all the while dreaming of the ways Asher is going to please me when he gets home.
Once I’ve finished my hair, I feed Duke and pop some popcorn to take into little bear’s room while I organize.
I’m just pouring it into a bowl when I realize Asher’s woodshop light is on, though I can barely see it through the snow coming down in fluffy tufts.
I don’t remember him being out there today.
I have no idea when he’ll be home, so I decide to head out and shut it off for him.
“Come on, Duke,” I say, patting my thigh and bundling up in my most sturdy boots and winter coat. Asher keeps the walkways and the driveway plowed well; it’s necessary when he gets called out.
Duke rises up from his bed and pads alongside me as we trek out the back door and through the snowy yard. I’m so lost in my little daydream—thinking about the baby and seeing Asher later tonight—that I’m startled when Duke barks into the night. It’s a menacing bark, and one I don’t hear very often.
“Duke!” I start to say but freeze when I realize there is a man standing in the shop.
Asher never locks the side door and it’s wide open now, though I couldn’t see it from the kitchen.
The man turns to smile at me as a shiver runs through me.
It’s the same man who came into my store a few weeks ago, the day of my baby shower.
Only now he’s holding a briefcase. Duke continues to bark rapidly.
“I’m not going to hurt you, love,” the man says.
Duke growls low and snowflakes hit my lips as I stay rooted to the spot, watching him through the door.
“Who are you?” I ask, understanding his visit wasn’t by chance.
This man wasn’t just a tourist. Has he been here this whole time?
Is this why I’ve felt uneasy? Dread rises as I realize I should’ve told Asher about him.
I should’ve trusted my gut. I study his features from my spot outside and, the way the light illuminates his face, I realize this man is related to Asher. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.
“I hadn’t considered you, ” he says, tilting his head to the side.
I don’t reply.
“Sorry, how rude of me not to introduce myself. I’m Peter Donovan, Asher’s uncle.”
I blink for a moment. His uncle who runs his father’s business …
“Asher isn’t here, is he, love?”
I hold Duke tight. If this man threatens me, Duke’ll rip him limb from limb.
“No, he’s not.” My voice is shaky as I start to back up. “Why didn’t you introduce yourself that day in my shop?”
“I didn’t want to make my nephew suspicious; it’s my job to observe first, dear. I had to wait for the right time. He hasn’t exactly been interested in seeing me.”
Peter smiles at me, though even that terrifies me. “I think I’ll wait. This reunion is a long time coming. Maybe you invite me in?” He nods to the house and Duke growls again.
Hell no. Make an excuse.
“Why don’t I call Asher?” I pull my phone out, showing him I have it. “See if he wants me to invite you in?”
“Don’t,” he warns, and for the first time since I found out I was pregnant with Asher’s child, I realize how stupid I’ve been not to ask more questions.
Because standing in front of me isn’t just a man who runs a ruthless business.
Everything about this man screams danger, and I feel the intense need to know exactly what kind of family I’m bringing my baby into.
Peter moves closer, and I take a step back in response.
“If you know what’s good for you, lass, you will let me in.”
I take another step but trip and stumble as I do, almost falling backward before I steady myself against the rain barrel outside the door.
Before I have a chance to dart for the house, I hear Asher’s truck careening down the long drive and turn to see snow flying from his winter tires.
He must see Peter in the shop, because when he gets in view of the barn he speeds up.
Slamming to a halt in front of us, he’s out of the truck in seconds as Peter sets down the briefcase he was holding and moves even closer to me.
So close I can smell the heavy musk of his cologne as he stands beside me.
“Duke!” Asher orders in the tone that stops Duke dead in his tracks, though he remains at my side.
I watch Asher’s fists flex open then close. He doesn’t move, or come closer, or even blink as he watches Peter. The look in his eyes isn’t something I’ve seen before. His expression is dark and terrifying. It’s ruthless.
Deadly.
“Pete,” Asher greets him through clenched teeth.
“She tripped on her own, clumsy little thing.” Peter grins. “I’m not going to hurt her, don’t worry.”
“You’re fucking right, you aren’t.” Asher’s voice is pure gravel.
Pete holds up one hand. “I’m only standing so close to her so you don’t pull yer Glock out and shoot me before you listen to the reason I’m here.”
Asher smirks, but it’s not the smirk I love.
“I don’t carry a weapon in this town.” Asher’s steaming as he moves closer, and I feel Pete tense, like he’s prepping to stand his ground.
“And I don’t need a gun, Pete. I’ll rip your throat out with my fucking teeth and my dog will eat your remains if you don’t step away from the mother of my child. Right. Fucking. Now.”