That was the trouble, wasn’t it? Because Asher wasn’t actually engaged, and because he hadn’t thought this through, he didn’t even have a fiancée in mind. Though there was no denying that only one woman popped into his head when he’d said the words. Only one who he could possibly hope to go along with this farce. Only one who’d have his back, without question. And hopefully without hesitation.
“Not exactly…” Asher admitted. “She’s a former resident.”
Cole nodded once, like he knew exactly whom Asher was talking about. “But she’s here now?”
“Currently.” Asher just had no idea for how long. All he knew was that she was coming up on a week in Havenbrook—which was about triple how long she normally spent here—and she had to be itching to leave. Desperately.
“But not currently anyone’s fiancée?”
“Nope.”
Cole leveled him with a stare for long moments before finally asking, “You plannin’ to do something about that?”
Well, that certainly wasn’t the reprimand Asher had been anticipating. In fact, it was as much permission as he figured he’d get from the man.
Asher pulled out his phone from his pocket, thumbed to the messages and found the name he was looking for. Then he typed a single word before pressing send. “I’m workin’ on it.”
* * *
“How long’s thehearing supposed to take?” Rory asked as she and Nat sat on the back deck, watching June, Ella, and Ava play in the yard.
Nat chewed on her thumbnail, her bare toes tapping against the wood decking. “No idea…”
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d spent her fair share of time in the very same courtroom Asher was currently in—after all, standing there to support them when her daddy already made her charges go away was the least she could do—so she knew a thing or two about the amount of time to expect. She also knew a thing or two about the judge who would be presiding over Asher’s case, and it wasn’t good news.
“Hopefully Judge Seville’s memory’s short,” Rory said as she sipped a glass of sweet tea. “Who’d have thought y’all’s teenage nonsense would come back to bite you in the butt?”
“I don’t appreciate your sarcasm, Rory, but I’m too worried to bite back.”
Rory held up a hand. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Sorry, but not wrong. When Asher had told Nat to whom he’d have to plead his case, she nearly fell out of her chair. She thought for sure that man would have been dead by now—or at least retired—since he’d been older than dirt when they’d been teens.
To say the judge didn’t look favorably upon their trio would be an understatement of epic proportions. Though, considering one of their last acts of rebellion in Havenbrook had been breaking in to the judge’s gated yard and skinny-dipping in his pool while he and the missus had been out for dinner, that wasn’t so hard to understand.
So, yeah. Asher definitely had the odds stacked against him. She could only hope the amount of time it was taking meant good things. Namely, that Asher would be placed as temporary guardian until permanent guardianship could be declared, and that the judge hadn’t named the Haywards as guardians simply to spite Asher and the fact that he’d given Mrs. Seville an eyeful of ass.
“Has he sent a text or anything?” Rory asked.
As a matter of fact, he had. But nothing that made any sense—and nothing she’d tell Rory about. Their SOS signals were between the three of them and no one else, though Nash had no doubt filled her in because Nat’d been informed he didn’t keep secrets from his live-in girlfriend. While both Nash and Asher had been on the receiving end of many of hers—truthfully, she’d lost count of how many she’d sent out over the years—she’d been on the receiving end of only one. Well, now two.
Years ago when they’d been young and stupid—or younger and stupider, anyway—they’d gotten stuck out along Havenbrook Creek during a flash summer storm. The creek was usually safe in most areas, unless they had a deluge of rain, in which case, it made portions hazardous. The trio had been walking along it when the skies had opened up. She’d slipped and fallen in, getting caught in the surprisingly strong current. She still remembered being trapped in the creek, feeling as though the heavens themselves had split right down the middle and poured every ounce of water collected for millennia down on their pocket of Mississippi.
Thankfully, those two had been there with her.
They’d pulled her to safety while she’d gasped for air. Then and there, as they’d been soaked to the bone, shaking from the rain or fear or adrenaline—maybe all three—they’d made a promise to be there for one another. No matter what. No questions asked. All any of them had to do was say the single word.
Downpour.
“No,” she replied to Rory even as she eyed the screen where the two syllables stared up at her.
She had no idea why he’d sent it, especially now of all times. He hadn’t used it to get her to Havenbrook—she’d done that all on her own. And he also hadn’t used it when he’d asked her to stay. She doubted he’d somehow found out he needed a kidney between the time he’d left and now.
“Well, hopefully he—”
The slider behind them opened, and out stepped Asher, his eyes landing on hers immediately, as if magnets drew them together.
“There you are!” Rory said with a smile. “We were just wonderin’ when you might be gettin’ back.”
