Also don’t freak out or make a big deal. But I’m bringing someone.
“Fuckity, fuck fuck!” I bite out after I send the message and stare at the ultrasound photo.
There’s no going back now. It’s time to tell my parents they’re about to level up to grandparents.
CHAPTER 29
Asher
Growing up, I had no idea what I’d be exposed to at any given time. Like the Christmas morning my father came home from a brawl, coked up, and passed out on the living room floor, but not before taking the whole tree down with him. Or the time I was playing hide-and-seek with my cousins at my uncle’s deli only to realize someone was tied up in the back room, beaten so badly that their face was unrecognizable. Or the time I found a severed finger under the workbench in our garage when I went out there to work on my brand-new bike at the ripe age of twelve.
Looking back, I’m pretty sure I learned to harden from as soon as I could register those memories. I always had to be on high alert, to remain in fight or flight. And when I wasn’t, everything felt off. I started toneedthe chaos to feel normal.
Which is why I’m feeling on guard tonight as I get ready to take Olivia to dinner with her parents. It could also be partly because the other night I spontaneously decided to tell her more about my past than I had ever intended to.
I just couldn’t stop myself when I could see her thinking Ididn’t want to kiss her, didn’t want to touch her, when the truth is I’ve thought of nothing else. But I needed her to know I was only denying anything between us because I would never want to hurt her. My darkness haunts me and I won’t let it haunt her too.
Even though I was able to open up to her, I couldn’t tell her everything. The full truth was on the tip of my tongue, but when I saw the horror in Liv’s eyes when I told her about prison, I froze and decided to tell her only what I thought she could handle. And I’m not sure she could handle me being the heir to the largest organized crime ring between Boston and New York. Not yet at least.
Though I’ll admit, even telling her the little I did feels like a weight off of my chest.
I turn up “1800 Miles” by Colter Wall on my Bluetooth speaker as I change my shirt for the third damn time, and I spend a little time making sure my hair sits just right. I don’t remember the last time I gave a fuck about my appearance, but I want this to go well. Olivia cares a lot about what her parents think, so that makesmecare what her parents think.
Shutting my speaker off and making my way down the steps of my house, I head to the workshop carrying two containers of food. I feed Duke a whole food diet, no store-bought bullshit, and tonight it’s ground beef, green beans, and sweet potato. He’s already waiting as I open the door, his tail wagging nonstop when he sees me.
Dick peers out from behind my workbench. He usually avoids me, but when I have food it’s a different story. And while I don’t like cats, I’m not gonna see him starve. Plus, I guess he gives Duke a friend.
Pulling out the second container, I add a scoop of raw pumpkin to a smaller dish and set it down.
“Don’t get used to it, fucker.” I grimace, sliding the dish over to Dick. He gets his back up at the sound of my voice before hissing at me. “Baby steps then, I guess, ya horse’s arse?”
We still aren’t friends, and Dick knows it, but he sniffs around the pumpkin and starts to eat it anyway.
I turn to make my way out of the barn, heading for my truck, as I think about Olivia, imagining the happy smile she’d offer if she knew I fed the damn cat. I may tell her, just to give her something else to focus on other than her parents, me, and the baby. I’m learning quickly that, when she can’t plan something or control something, she panic talks. Nonstop. About anything and everything. The fear of telling her more details about my old life hits me even harder when I realizeeverythingabout my family, my past is chaos.
I push that thought away as I drive. In my mind, I’m already halfway through all the things I can say to her to help her relax. I tell myself that’s the normal, supportive thing to do, and I’ve almost got myself convinced my thoughts are strictly chivalrous. That is, until I pull up to her cabin.
Olivia’s already waiting, standing on her porch in a short, off-the-shoulder pink dress. It’s pretty from the front, of course, but when she turns to make sure the door is pulled tightly closed and I see the low back tied at the top in a big exaggerated bow, it hits me that she looks like a wrapped present. One I’m almost desperate to claim for myself. Her hair blows in the summer breeze as she holds a platter of freshly baked cupcakes.Goddamn,no matter how many times I tell myself she deserves the kind of man she says she wants, or that I shouldn’t try to keep her, I already know I’m quickly becoming fuckingobsessedwith the mother of my child.
CHAPTER 30
Olivia
Ishift the container of red velvet cupcakes in my lap as we drive through Laurel Creek to my childhood home. I didn’t really have time to bake today, but my mom loves red velvet and when I get nervous I bake.
We’re having dinner in town but, since I never bring men home, my parents want us to meet them at their house so we can all leave together for the restaurant.
As their neighborhood comes into view, nostalgia settles within me and happy memories of me learning to ride my bike—during summer nights just like this—make my heart squeeze. When we turn onto my parents’ street, Asher whistles. “This is beautiful.”
He takes in the canopy of trees that meet in the middle over the long street. Large, stately homes sit back on their properties; many of them boast winding driveways, beautiful lawns, and manicured gardens. It’s not the wealthiest part of town—that’s where Ginger grew up—but it’s close. Safe and quiet.
“My parents have owned this house since the street was new in the early nineties. Back then this was an average-pricedhome for two working-class people.”
Asher nods as he watches a mom push a baby stroller along the road. She walks behind another child trundling along on his tricycle. He can’t be more than three.
“No going back now,” I mutter under my breath as Asher pulls into my parents’ driveway and cuts the engine. He turns to face me, and the way he’s looking at me now is the same way he looked at me when he pulled up to my cabin twenty minutes ago. Heated, and I’m having a hard time fitting it into this “friends only” pact we’ve made.
It doesn’t help that he looks absolutely incredible. He’s usually in jeans and black T-shirts, or sometimes in his uniform, so when I see the effort he made to share this news with my parents, it takes my damn breath away. His white fitted button-down hugs his body in all the right places, and he’s paired it with navy chinos, a brown belt, and brown boots.
