Downpour.
“No,” I replied to Rory even as I eyed the screen where the two syllables stared up at me.
I had no idea why Asher would sent it, especially now of all times. He hadn’t used it to get me to Havenbrook—I’d done that all on my own. And he also hadn’t used it when he’d asked me to stay. I doubted he’d somehow found out he needed a kidney between the time he’d left and now.
“Well, hopefully he?—”
The slider behind us opened, and out stepped Asher, his eyes landing on mine immediately, as if magnets drew us together.
“There you are!” Rory said with a smile. “We were just wonderin’ when you might be gettin’ back.”
With a shrewd gaze, I sized him up—still the gorgeous man who’d left earlier, clad in his slim-fitting black suit, his once-overgrown beard now trimmed tight to his sculpted jaw. I’d teased him that he was going to leave a path of destruction through Havenbrook, everyone who saw him passing flat out if he didn’t dial back the sexiness. Especially since the average age of Havenbrook residents skewed to the over-fifty crowd.
Or it had, anyway, before my sister Will had fixed up the Square, and her fiancé, Finn, had opened up Havenbrook’s first bar. That, probably, had managed to draw or keep at least a few of the younger generation.
Asher had only laughed and told me to shut up before strolling out of the house. Now, though, he didn’t look much for laughing.
“Hey.” He pocketed his keys and ran a hand through his hair that he’d beaten into submission before the hearing, mussing it up a bit in the process. God knew what the honorable judge would’ve done if Asher had shown up with the floppy hair his fans went crazy for hanging in his face.
“Hey,” I echoed back, hesitancy heavy in my tone. I narrowed my eyes on him, but for the first time ever, I couldn’t read him. Wasn’t familiar with that tone, and definitely wasn’t sure if it meant good news or bad.
Rory split a glance between us both and then cleared her throat. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I need to run use the powder room.”
I waited until my sister was inside, the door closed behind her, before I held up the phone as he sat down in the chair Rory had vacated. “Don’t tell me you used this so I’d make supper tonight. I was already plannin’ on it. I figured we don’t wanna scar the kids any more than necessary by subjectin’ them to your cookin’.”
He breathed out a laugh and shook his head. “Actually, it’s something a little bigger than supper.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
He blew out a long, slow breath, rubbing his hands down his thighs as he leaned back in his chair, his legs outstretched in front of him. “Gettin’ custody isn’t as cut-and-dried as I thought it’d be.”
My brow furrowed, and I rested my elbow on the armrest, leaning closer to him. “What do you mean? Aubrey and Nathan named you in their wills, plus you’ve got the video, right?”
“I thought that’s all we’d need, but apparently there’s something the judge uses to look at the whole picture—at more than just the parents’ wishes.”
“Okay, so what does that mean?”
“Seville has to weigh it all before makin’ a final decision. Aubrey and Nathan’s wishes will factor heavily in that, but it’s not the only thing he’ll consider. And, in a lot of those areas, the Haywards have me beat by a mile.”
My lip curled at the mere mention of those assholes. “Yeah, well, they also have you beat in being pretentious dicks. Does Seville not takethatinto consideration?” I rolled my eyes and huffed out an irritated sound, answering my own question before Asher could attempt to. “’Course he doesn’t. He’s no doubt still pissed his wife saw you two naked idiots runnin’ around, showin’ her and the world everything you’ve got to offer, when his pecker’s probably smaller than my pinkie.”
Asher barked out a disbelieving laugh and glanced up, his eyes darting around as if to make sure there weren’t any young ears in the vicinity.
I waved him off. “Relax. The girls can’t hear us, and Owen’s takin’ a nap.”
He nodded and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his bent knees. Turning his head toward me, he said, “Well, you might be right on his prejudice of me, but that doesn’t change the facts.”
“Which are?”
“I’m a single twenty-seven-year-old who sings and plays guitar for a livin’.”
I scoffed. “You do a hell of a lot more than that. You’ve written three top ten hits, with another in the works, or did you forget about all that? Hang on, lemme pull one up to remind you.”
He plucked my phone from my hands and slipped it into his pocket. “I’ve heard ’em. But you know as well as I do that doesn’t mean shit to someone like Seville. Besides that, I don’t own a home. I don’t have a huge savings account—some, yeah, but not enough to last real long without any income. Hell, right now, I don’t even have a steady job.” He blew out a frustrated sigh. “Which is where you come in.”
“You need me to give you a job?” I asked, my brows lifted.
He cleared his throat and met my gaze head on. “Actually, instead of bein’ my boss, I was sorta hopin’ you’d be my wife.”
