Asher
Ituck my pencil behind my ear and climb down the ladder off the roof just as Olivia backs out of her driveway. There’s a part of me, a big part, that wants to follow her to work just to make sure she gets there safely. Not because I think she’s weak—she’s resilient as fuck—but I have an innate need to be near her right now and it’s fucking crushing. Every second I laid awake in bed last night thinking about her and my baby was a fight as I wrestled with my thoughts. Men like me don’t get to be regular dads, playing catch with their kids in the front yard. Men like me have been raised to train their sons to be ruthless. They marry their daughters off to the heads of other families to secure business dealings. Men like me cheat, steal, and lie their way through life. They don’t love; they don’tfeel.Because of that, all these foreign emotions are running through me. I have to give Liv and our baby everything they deserve, but the idea of letting someone in makes me feel completely out of fucking control. If I bring them closer, I might lose them.
“How’s it looking up there?” Wade asks when I comethrough the front door of one of the wedding cabins he’s working on. The smell of pine hits me as I enter; the cleaners are doing their best to get the place dust-free and we’re pretty much complete after months of work. Soon we’ll be starting on the outside, working on decking, landscaping, and driveways. Wade, Walker, and I laid the hand-planed four-inch maple boards as flooring—with cabinets to match—and did the same in pine for the ceiling. The kitchen is simple with quartz counters and stainless-steel appliances, and the front and bedroom windows have been designed to allow the natural light to stream in as bridal parties get ready and take wedding photos on their big day.
“It’s looking pretty close to a finished cabin,” I say, picking up my water. “The roofers did a great job where that flashing meets the trough.”
“Thanks for having a look for me,” Wade says, surveying the space and placing his hammer on top of the tool bag. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re getting there. Just wish my dad were here to see it. He always wanted to work on a hospitality side to the ranch.”
“You should be proud.” I look out the front window to the open space and bubbling creek beyond. “This will be a pretty sought-after spot once it’s done.”
“You all good?” Wade asks, his dark brow furrowed as he examines me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I’ve gotten to know him a little better over these last months, or because he has a small child of his own, but the need to talk tosomeonehits me like a ton of bricks.
“Fuck, not really,” I say, taking a seat on an empty pallet in the center of the room.
Wade’s eyebrows shoot up. “I didn’t expect you to answer honestly.”
“Yup. Trying something new.”
“Any particular reason?”
I breathe out a deep sigh. “Olivia is pregnant. And the baby is mine.”
Wade’s mouth falls open in shock and we both sit with the statement between us for a beat.
“Holy fuck.” He flips a pallet over just across from me and takes a seat. “Holy … fuck.”
“Right?”
“Is this serious?”
“What’s good, boys?” Nash pushes the door open just as I’m about to answer Wade’s question. He’s carrying a box of outlet covers. “Had to drive to Fallon Ridge for these. They don’t stock black ones at the local hardware store.”
Nash looks between Wade and me and his expression clouds over. “What’s wrong?”
“We were just having a little talk,” I offer. Wade stays quiet, knowing this is my story to share.
“Talk?” Nash’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Yeah …” I begin. “Hell, I’m going to need all the help I can get for this one.”
Nash folds his arms over his chest, unsure what to expect.
“Olivia is pregnant.”
It takes Nash all of five seconds to make the connection between this statement and why it’s significant to me.
“Holyfuck.” He bites out the same response as Wade. “When did you two …? Wait … is thisserious?”
I shake my head, scrubbing my beard with my hand and looking down at the scuff of my work boots. “I don’t know what it is. My head is fucked.”
Talking to other people about my personal shit doesn’t come easily. But, for this, Ineedsome advice.
“I take it, seeing as you’re telling us now, that she’s decided to keep the baby?” Wade asks now as Nash leans back onto the kitchen counter.
I nod. “And I’m all in. But, fuck, I’m so out of my elementhere. I want to do the right thing by her. I just don’t have a clue what that is.”
Nash pulls some covers out of the bag and moves around the room, placing them at each outlet. “I’m eight months in and I still don’t know if I’ve done enough,” he admits.
