Asher’s stomach clenched right along with his jaw. While he didn’t pretend to have all the answers or know what was right when it came to kids—and didn’t particularly relish the thought of his life being turned upside down—he couldn’t stand to think about June and Owen being swept off to Connecticut, rarely, if ever, to be seen or heard from again. Couldn’t stand the thought of his last remaining family being gone.
He just didn’t know what the alternative was.
He was a musician in his twenties who did okay for himself but certainly didn’t have a huge nest egg built. He’d been on the verge of his big break—he’d had a meeting with a label scheduled the day after he’d arrived in Havenbrook—but who knew what the hell was going on with that since he’d had to cancel. His manager had sent her condolences, along with flowers, and told him to take some time. He wasn’t sure time would give him the answers he needed.
While the Haywards were the biggest pricks this side of the Mississippi, he couldn’t deny that they were the smartest choice. The one that made the most sense. They were in their midfifties and well-off, affluent, country-club kind of people. The kind who’d have a nanny named Muffy and a personal chef at their disposal. The kind who could erect a carnival in their backyard just for a fifth birthday party. The kind who—
Cole cleared his throat, gathering some papers and stacking them on the table with two sharp taps. “Yes, I’m sure you’re very busy,” Cole said, and Asher couldn’t be sure if he actually heard a note of dryness or if it was just wishful thinking. “But I have good news for you, Mr. and Mrs. Hayward. You won’t need to worry about rushin’ to do everything, and you can cancel your nanny interviews.”
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Hayward’s tone cut through the air like a knife.
“You won’t need to worry about it,” Cole reiterated, “as Asher has been named guardian in the wills.”
Mrs. Hayward gasped while her husband slammed his hand down on the table before diving immediately into an angry diatribe, their shocked ranting blending into massive chaos that ended up just being garbled noises alongside thewhoosh whoosh whooshin Asher’s ears.
He was hallucinating. Or this was all a dream. Or…had Nat spiked his coffee this morning?
“I’m sorry,” Asher managed with a shake of his head. “I thought you said I was named guardian…”
Cole nodded once. “I did.”
Guardian. Of two little kids. Two little kids he was apparently now responsible for.
Cole cleared his throat loudly, and the Haywards finally settled into quiet fuming. Asher couldn’t wrap his head around what this meant, but it was clear they had and that they were not at all happy about it. But the pair hadn’t managed more than a yearly visit since their grandkids were born. Why the sudden desire to rip them from everything they knew? Especially now, when they’d already had the two most important people in their lives torn from them.
“While Asher was named in both wills, we also have this…” Cole pressed a few buttons on his laptop before turning the screen toward Asher and the Haywards.
On the laptop, a shaky, vertical video, obviously recorded on a phone, played. The picture quality was dark and fuzzy, but there was no mistaking it was Asher on the screen. He reclined in a bed, the cookie-cutter furnishings and bland wall hangings obviously the mark of a hotel room.
“Okay, one more.” Aubrey’s voice sounded in the too-small conference room, and Asher wasn’t ready. He hadn’t been prepared to hear her voice just yet. Didn’t know how it had gone from something that had once settled him to something that tore through his insides as sharp as a blade, but he was blinking back tears all the same.
Past Asher groaned on screen, rolling his head to face the camera. “Seriously, Aubrey? No more questions. Why won’t you just go to sleep? Is this to get back at me from when I was eight and wouldn’t leave you alone?”
She laughed. “I’m not that mean.”
“Right now, I’d beg to differ. We’ve got five showings lined up tomorrow, and the first one is comin’ in just a few hours.”
Asher vaguely recalled this now. It was when he’d first moved to Nashville five years ago, when Aubrey had been about four months pregnant. She’d insisted on tagging along to help him apartment hunt, and she’d taken this video on their first night there. After their earlier showings in the day, they’d gone out and bounced from one open mic night to the next as she’d dragged him all around the city, forcing him to sing again and again. They’d stumbled back to their hotel room well after midnight, and their first showing the following day had been scheduled for bright and early at eight a.m.
“C’mon, last one. I promise.”
“Fine,” Past Asher said. “But this is it. I mean it.”
“Then I better make it a good one.”
“Can’t wait to hear this…” he said through a yawn.
“Will you take the baby?”
There was a moment of stunned silence before Past Asher barked out a shocked, “What?” His voice pure, stark terror. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you tellin’ me?”
He now recalled exactly how scared he’d been then—it’d been about six months after his dad had passed away from a stroke, a year and a half since his momma had lost her battle with cancer. Thinking he was going to lose her, too, had filled him with a dread he’d never known.
She laughed, and the sound, even diluted as it was through the recording, settled over him like a blanket, soothing him in a way he hadn’t realized he’d needed. “Relax. I’m just sayin’. If anything happens…like, ever, at any point—not that it will, but if it does—will you take the baby? It’s just you and me now, Asher. And Nathan’s parents…well…”
Past Asher stared just beyond the lens, to where Aubrey would’ve been sitting. “Holy shit, you’re actually serious.Thisis what you’ve kept me up for? Your crazy what-if scenarios?”
She laughed and tossed a pillow at him, which he batted away without missing a beat. “If you’d just answer already, I’ll shut up.”
