Sharp Right Turn (Sharp Turn Saga #2)

  Sharp Right Turn

  Book Two

  Of the

  Sharp Turn Saga

  Faye Byrd

  Copyright © 2017 Faye Byrd

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  All trademark references mentioned in this book, including movies, movie characters or television shows, are the property of the respective copyright holders and trademark owners. No copyright infringement is intended.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by: Fran Walsh

  Image Creator: Ceara Therrien

  Pre and Post readers:

  Cheryl Edmonds

  Cecilia Mohney

  Hilary Lee

  And a huge, special thanks

  to Cecilia Melton for

  her dedication

  and

  sleepless nights

  Table of Contents

  1 Green Light

  2 Slippery When Wet

  3 Barrier Ahead

  4 Danger: Falling Rock Zone

  5 Potholes

  6 Dangerous Curve Ahead

  7 Caution

  8 Crossroads

  9 Steep Ascent

  10 No Trespassing

  11 Unguarded Crossing

  12 Dip

  13 Sharp Right Turn

  14 Incident Ahead

  15 Intersection

  Acknowledgements

  Links

  1 Green Light

  Easy

  After the boys were down for their nap, Trystan made a call to his attorney. It was already on his list of priorities, but the timetable had been moved up drastically when his ex-wife contacted the hospital. He spent the next three hours on the phone, explaining the entire situation and forming a legal strategy.

  Now that we’ve learned Kennedy is lurking, we expect a confrontation at some point. Since our situation is such a rare one, it’s hard to predict the path it will take if it ever ends up in court. Trystan’s attorney assures him that her legal standing is baseless, but without much precedent, the courts will most likely hear any suit she chooses to bring. As a result, we’ve spent the past two weeks implementing every legal avenue available to solidify our places in the lives of our sons.

  During that time, we also learn more about each other, the boys, and strangely enough, ourselves. As someone who’s never considered someone else’s opinion when it comes to parenting, it’s a new experience. It doesn’t require much, though, as Trystan and I seem to balance out each other.

  Where I’m soft and nurturing, Trystan’s brash and boy-power. Each of our sons have small idiosyncrasies that clearly come from their rearing thus far. Cam is quick to need a boo-boo kissed, while Blake likes to shake them off, even though he’s clumsier overall. Cam hates getting dirty, and Blake doesn’t like to be clean. It’s a learning curve, but in the end, the boys are gaining valuable lessons. They each need a little of what they’ve been missing in their lives.

  Since the day we came home from the hospital, Trystan and Blake have been here. They leave each night around seven and are always back by eight every morning so Trystan can cook breakfast for everyone. Not once have the boys questioned it, and at this point, it’s even expected.

  Other things haven’t gone as smoothly, though. At Kari’s doctor’s appointment, the week Cooper returned to Chicago, her blood pressure was a concern. This put a screeching halt to their plans to come back over the weekend. As an alternative, Dr. Scott arranged it so they could go to Chicago Memorial and have their samples taken since Cameron is a top priority for us all.

  There was only one hitch; Bunnie and Reed Ashby. Trystan did speak to them when they called demanding answers, but he also refused to tell them over the phone. He pleaded with them to provide a sample in Chicago and promised he would explain when he saw them in person. They begrudgingly did as asked, but in the end, it didn’t matter, as no one was a close enough match.

  Kari’s been cleared now, and Trystan’s family is expected to descend on Atlanta this weekend. I’m quite excited for Cameron to meet them. Blake has gained a whole slew of new relatives since he’s been here, and I hope Cameron can do the same.

  As for Trystan and me, our game of chase is still ongoing, but it’s ever-evolving. There’s a lot of flirting, but the man who pushed me against the wall in that stairway is nowhere to be found. There’s thought behind his moves now. It’s just enough to remind me that he hasn’t given up, yet not enough to satisfy my ever-growing craving.

  If this is his plan, it’s working.

  Just as every other day at lunchtime, I’m sitting at the bar, watching as his back muscles flex and move under his T-shirt. I’m hypnotized by every stretch and twist of his arm. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away.

  “You want to go ahead and call the boys down? Lunch is almost ready,” he says over his shoulder.

  When I don’t respond, still lost in a haze of muscle and skin, he turns and waves his hand in front of me. “Hey, where’d you go?”

  I give my head a little shake and respond, “Oh, sorry. I was just uh … thinking.”

  He smirks and leans against the stove. “Yeah? What about?”

  “The fertility clinic.” He thinks he’s so smart, but I’m smarter.

  His face twists up like he just sucked on a rotten lemon.

  Check and mate.

  “Oh, what about it?” he asks with fake enthusiasm.

  “They said they might need as many as ten samples. I didn’t know if that was something you were willing to do,” I tell him as I trace one of the gray lines across the marble.

  His brows rise. “Ten? Why the fuck would they need that many?”

  I shrug and look down, my eyes following my fingers across the stone. “I’m not sure. They said they like to get a lot of samples in this type of situation. Just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” he prods, sounding slightly irritated.

  I continue to look away from him. “I don’t know. In case you change your mind after agreeing, or to make sure they have enough or because the thought of you in there doing that is enough to warrant ten times.”

  He chuckles. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you? They did not say that, did they?” His voice is closer than it should be, so I chance a look. He’s leaning across the counter; his green eyes so close I can’t look away.

  I swallow, his eyes flick down and back up, staring right into mine. “Do you think about me doing that, Easton? Do you wonder what I look like with my cock in my hand? Do you hope that I’ll think of you?”

  He stares so intensely that I’m caught.

  Caught in a web of lust.

  Caught in a situation I’m losing control of.

  Caught between what I want and what I think is right.

  Caught in this man’s grasp.

  With a simple yank, I’ll be pulled in completely.

  I jerk my eyes away.

  If I don’t look at him, he doesn’t have power over me. He moves even closer. The heat from his breath caresses my face as he speaks. “I won’t force you, Easton. You have to want it, too.” With those simple words, he goes back to the oven, opening it and pulling the pan of pizza from inside.

  “I’
ll … I’ll get the boys,” I say as I make my escape from the fire that’s burning between us.

  Once I’m out of the kitchen and up the stairs, I lean against the wall to catch my breath. I’m not sure how much more I can take. Being near him every day is crumbling my will to pieces. He’s a great dad—to my sons no less—and a very sexy man. It’s a lethal combination.

  When I finally make it to Cam’s room, the boys are on his bed, playing with their Legos. “Hey, Mama,” Cam says when he notices me.

  Blake immediately parrots his greeting. “Hey, Easy.”

  I approach them. “Hey, sweet boys. Trystan has lunch ready, so why don’t we put these away and get cleaned up to eat?”

  “What he make us?” Cam asks.

  “My daddy’s a chef,” Blake speaks up.

  Cam crinkles his nose. “What a chef?”

  Blake shrugs. “I don’t know. He cooks all the time.”

  I laugh at them both and answer Cam. “It means he’ll keep making us great food.”

  “Okay, but what he cook?” Cam holds his palms up in question.

  I smile because he’s just too cute. “He made us pizza.”

  Cam starts crawling from the bed with excitement. “Come on, Blake. Let’s go wash our hands.”

  “I don’t wanna wash ‘em,” Blake pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “You know we wash our hands before we eat,” I say sternly, lifting a brow for emphasis.

  “I tired of washing my hands all the time,” Blake says, highlighting the fact that even though Trystan’s a chef, he clearly doesn’t follow the cleanliness rules when it comes to his son.

  “Well, you will from now on. Come on.” I lead them to the bathroom and make sure they have spotless hands before we make our way downstairs.

  Lunch is spectacular, as is everything Trystan makes us. Today he used cauliflower to make the pizza crust, and it tastes just as good as any pizza I’ve had before. Another thing to add to the ever-growing list of what’s there to like about Trystan Ashby.

  Once the kitchen has been cleaned, we retire to the family room to watch Chicken Little as one solid unit. This is our usual routine, and if everything falls in line, the boys will be asleep before it’s over.

  With Blake’s favorite blanket covering them, and Trystan and me on either side, we settle in as the unconventional family we are. Today they make it to the end, barely keeping their eyes open.

  “Psst.” I get Trystan’s attention. “Looks like they’re done. Let’s get them to Cam’s bed.”

  He nods and stands, picking Blake up along the way. I do the same for Cam and follow them up to his room. After we lay them down, I begin pulling off shoes while Trystan stands and watches.

  “Daddy,” Blake mumbles.

  “Yeah, dude?”

  “Can you read us a story?”

  “Yeah,” Cam chimes in. “I got lots of books, don’t I, Mama?”

  “You sure do. Which one do you want?” I ask him.

  “Where the Wild Things Are,” he answers after a moment’s thought.

  “What that?” Blake asks.

  “One of my books,” Cam answers. “You not read it ‘fore?”

  Blake shakes his head. “No, I not read many books. Just my favorite.”

  “What your favorite?” Cam asks him.

  “Green Eggs and Ham.” Blake shrugs like everybody should know that.

  “Oh, I not read that book.” He looks at me. “We try it one day, Mama?”

  “Of course, sweetie. Maybe Blake can bring his over,” I suggest.

  Blake nods. “I will.”

  “Okay, you two lie down, and I’ll get the book for Trystan.” I go over to the bookshelf and grab it, opening it to the bookmark.

  “Here you go,” I say, handing it to Trystan. “I hope it’s okay to keep going where we left off.”

  Cam speaks up before Trystan can respond. “No. We can start over. Blake want to read it all.”

  My eyes well with tears, and Trystan notices, but when does he not? He gives me a soft smile as he reaches over and squeezes my hand. “They’re amazing,” he says softly.

  Settling on the edge of the bed, his soft manly voice reads the title of the book aloud. My heart flutters and I motion to the door, quickly leaving the room. When I make it to the hallway, I slide down the wall and listen as Trystan reads to them.

  So many emotions are swirling inside me that I’m unable to latch onto a single one. The toll is overwhelming. The woman in me so desperately wants this man, but the mother in me won’t allow her to have him. The cost, if she fails to make a life with him, is too high of a price to pay.

  The ding of the doorbell brings me from my yearning. As quietly as possible, I get up and creep down the stairs, hoping no one is aware of my eavesdropping. If Trystan knows, he’ll use it against me, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out as it is.

  A smile lights my face when I open the door to Weston and Ryder. I’ve only seen them once since the hospital, and then it was only to drop off my car the night Trystan drove Cam and me home.

  Weston reaches out for an overly excited hug. “It feels like forever since we’ve talked. How are those little angels doing?”

  “They’re amazing,” I answer as I pull away.

  “Hey, Easy, it’s good to see ya again,” Ryder says, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  I smile and open the door wider. “You too. Come in. Let’s catch up on what’s been going on at the office.”

  “Easy, we didn’t come to worry you with work today,” Weston refutes, waving my suggestion away.

  “I’m not worried about it. I’d just like to hear what’s been going on. Something different to focus my attention on for a change,” I reply, giving him the “big sister knows best” look.

  “Why don’t we focus on where the man-meat is instead? His car’s in the drive.” He raises a smart-ass brow and makes a show of scanning the living room.

  I clear my throat. “Well, uh, Trystan’s up—”

  “Did I hear my name?” Trystan asks as he comes down the stairs, sending me a smirk. His eyes flick from me to my brother and a smile forms. “Weston, so good to see you again.” He walks over and grabs his hand for a warm shake.

  Charmer.

  “Trystan, I didn’t realize you’d be here,” Weston says to him, but he’s looking at me with accusing blue eyes. He’d probably die if he knew just how much time Trystan and Blake spend here, but we’ve needed this time alone. And I’m thankful my family has kept themselves scarce.

  When Trystan finally gets his hand back from Weston, he waves it off and says, “Yeah, Easton likes to keep me upstairs.”

  “With the boys,” I blurt, my eyes widening.

  “Just how often does this happen?” Weston asks, moving closer to Trystan, wanting to read more into his words.

  Ryder, knowing Weston, steps forward and holds out his hand in an overly cheery fashion. “Hey, Trystan, good to see ya again.”

  Trystan grabs it for a shake. “Hey, man. We appreciate you stopping by.”

  I catch Weston’s eyes widen at the we, but thankfully, Ryder keeps Trystan occupied, so his husband never has the chance to voice his thoughts.

  Ryder nods. “Glad we could finally get up this way. Work’s been keeping us in the city.”

  Trystan claps his shoulder and withdraws his hand. “I can imagine.” He shakes his head. “I bet it’s a madhouse without Easton’s talent.”

  Ryder nods, his shaggy blond hair falling onto his forehead. “She’s a keeper that’s for sure. But it’s nothing we can’t handle. We just wanna see Cam get better.”

  “I hear ya,” Trystan says, his eyes flicking to me for the briefest moment. “Cameron is going to be just fine if Easton and I have a say in it.”

  “Oh?” Weston says, his eyes narrowing as they move between Trystan and me. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “Okay,” I interject, motioning everyone toward the living room. “W
hy don’t we have a seat. Ryder was just going to fill me in on what’s been happening at the office.” I give Trystan the stink-eye as I herd my family ahead of us.

  He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, I think I’m going to just get a start on dinner.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I say softly, realizing that’s it’s way too early. I don’t want him suggesting things aloud like he did with Maddox, but I also don’t want him thinking he isn’t welcome to join us.

  “No, it’s fine. The braised beef short ribs actually take hours to cook,” he explains, tossing an arm over my shoulder and leading me to the sofa where Weston is eagerly awaiting. “I’ll catch you guys later.” With a nod, he leaves me with my over-eager brother and his husband.

  As soon as Trystan is far enough away, Weston leans into my side. “Holy hotness, Easy. He cooks, too? That man is a keeper.”

  I roll my eyes and Ryder just chuckles, but Weston reaches over and rubs his leg in a suggestive manner. “You know you do other things well.”

  “Okay.” I throw up my hand. “Fill me in on the office. This is getting to be too much.” I motion toward where Weston is stroking Ryder’s thigh.

  Ryder updates me on our accounts and fills me in on two more proposals he’s working on. According to him, everyone at the office has stepped up to help. Tasha is doing as much as she can to manage my accounts without my input, including dealing with clients. She even was a stand-in for me with the reveal for Mrs. Phillips, who apparently loved the design.

  My heart aches for leaving my company in such a position, but I know they understand. We have a good team, and I trust them to do their best.

  “Do you have any idea when you might be back?” Ryder asks.

  “I’m just not sure. While it’s true that Cam is doing well, he has medicine to take daily, and I’m not sure he should be at daycare, no matter how close Charlotte will watch him.”

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “I get it. Do you think we should look at hiring someone?”

  “I could do a few proposals from home,” I suggest, pondering his question. “We’ve built a brand based on our work and to entrust it to someone else is a step I’m not ready to take.”