Sharp Right Turn (Sharp Turn Saga #2) Page 4

  “Are you telling me you’ve left your life in Chicago behind for another floozy?” It’s Mrs. Ashby who speaks this time, and my head snaps in her direction.

  “Excuse me?” I say, my hackles rising. It’s one thing to be upset at Trystan, but to call me names without knowing a thing about me? No, I don’t think so.

  Her eyes flick over me before meeting mine again. “If you think for one minute that you can trap my son here in this lousy city, then you’re seriously mistaken,” she sneers.

  I lean closer, as if to share a secret with her. “See, the thing is, I don’t want your son, Mrs. Ashby. But I have someone who does, and I can guarantee, Trystan will never leave him.” I cross my arms, my stare never wavering.

  “What do you mean, him?” she asks, her brows furrowed.

  Trystan answers for me. “She means my son, Mom. My son, Cameron.”

  His mother gasps and his father jumps from his seat. “What is the meaning of this! Suddenly some woman contacts you and says she has your kid and you just up and run to Atlanta?”

  Trystan stands, jaw clenched, fists balled, eye-to-eye with his father. “No, Dad. That isn’t what happened,” he grits out. “But if you sit down and shut the fuck up, I’ll explain it.”

  When his father goes to sit in the recliner again, Trystan stops him, pointing toward the sofa. “Just sit with Mom. Easton will sit in the recliner.” He reaches over and grabs my arm. “Come on.”

  His father huffs but takes the seat I vacated. After helping me settle, Trystan sits on the arm and laces his fingers through mine. Then he takes a deep breath. When he opens his mouth this time, the whole tale starts pouring from his lips. His parents sit there with shock on their faces, along with occasional anger from his father, as he explains to them the circumstances that brought him to Atlanta.

  When he’s completely finished, no one says a word for several minutes. Mr. Ashby finally clears his throat and speaks. “Have you contacted your lawyer?”

  Trystan gives my hand a gentle squeeze and speaks. “I’ve spoken with my attorney, and we’ve made some legal changes on wills and such, but other than that, we’re perfectly fine with the arrangement we now have.”

  “And what is that arrangement, son?” his mother asks.

  “We’ve spent too much time away from our boys―years without seeing them. We don’t plan on doing that again for the foreseeable future. Blake and I will be staying here until Easton and I decide otherwise,” Trystan states, determination ringing from every word.

  “Do you plan to sue the hospital? I’m sure I can get you in touch with the right person for a case like this.” Is this his biggest concern after all Trystan’s told him? My fingers clench in Trystan’s grasp.

  “Dad, that’s really not what’s important to us right now. Again, Easton and I will discuss how to handle it, but I can assure you, it’ll be much later down the road. We have more important things to worry about at the moment,” Trystan answers tersely. “Like our sick son.”

  At least his father has the decency to look chastised, while his mother sits with watery eyes. Before anything further can be said, Cam makes his way down the stairs. “Daddy Trystan, you didn’t finish the story.” He’s rubbing his eyes and carrying his book in his hand.

  My heart melts.

  Trystan gets up and collects him from the bottom step, bringing him over. My smile is soft as I watch my son melt the room without even realizing it. “Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Cameron.”

  Bunnie gasps and tears start pouring down her cheeks. “Reed, look. He’s the spitting image of our boy.” She’s a snot-sobbing mess, so Mr. Ashby reaches in his suit jacket, pulls out his handkerchief and passes it to her.

  When he’s done, his eyes settle on Cam, and they too hold unshed tears. He swallows them back. “And what about Blake? Where does my grandson fit into this?”

  Cam speaks up. “Blake’s my brother.” His words are so simple, but they hold the truth of the matter.

  Trystan nods in agreement. “Exactly. Cam and Blake are brothers. Easton is their mother, and I’m their father. It’s as simple as that, Dad.”

  “And what happens if you and Easton don’t agree?” Mr. Ashby turns his inquisitive eyes to me, expecting an answer.

  I completely understand his need to ask, so I give him a firm reply. “We’ll act like adults. We’ll discuss the pros and cons of each perspective and we’ll decide from there.” I lean forward so there’ll be no mistaking my sincerity. “Trystan and I both want the same thing and that’s what makes this so easy.”

  “What is that exactly, Miss Wilder?” he asks, brow raised.

  I shrug. “Simple. What’s best for our boys.”

  He studies me carefully, looking for what I’m not sure. Apparently he finds whatever it is because he gives me a nod and turns back to Trystan, who has a sleeping Cam propped on his shoulder.

  Several hours later and both boys are up from their nap. Trystan is in the kitchen on dinner detail. His parents are still here while we wait for Cooper and his family’s arrival. Reed is in the kitchen with Trystan, and Bunnie and I are in the backyard, watching the boys play.

  Bunnie clears her throat. “Easton, forgive me if I’m overstepping, but I can’t help but notice the bond you and my son have formed. Is this something I should be concerned with?”

  I continue watching the boys, pondering her question. “We do have a bond, Mrs. Ashby. It’s right out there. Neither of us want to part with our sons, so this is our compromise,” I say, turning to her. “I hope you can understand that, but I also won’t ask for your permission either.”

  “Please, call me Bunnie, and I can understand that to some extent. The question is, can you really keep it at just that?” she asks.

  “We have to. It’s our only option,” I answer firmly. “We understand the cost of a mistake on our part, and we’re not willing to risk it.”

  Before she can respond, the back door opens, drawing our attention. Trystan is standing there and two young, dark-haired boys fly past him, making a beeline for our boys. A woman with a dark brown bob and a protruding stomach joins him. Trystan takes her arm and leads her over to where Bunnie and I are sitting.

  “Easton, Kari. Kari, Easton,” he says with no preamble at all. “I’m going to leave you two to get acquainted.” With a wink in my direction, he turns and walks straight back inside.

  Bunnie lifts a brow, but I only shrug. If I try to decode every wink or smile he sends my way, I’ll never have time for anything else. There are too many layers to the relationship Trystan and I share, and I won’t be going into them with his mother.

  Kari eases into the chair beside us and turns to me with a smile. “Well that was nice of him, wasn’t it?” she says sarcastically.

  I know right that very second, we’re going to get along just fine. A giggle bursts from within me. “Oh. Is that out of character for him?”

  She snorts. “Oh, Easton, I’ve seen much worse.”

  “Please, call me Easy.” I glance to Bunnie. “Both of you. Only Trystan insists on calling me Easton.”

  “Very well, Easy,” she says with a genuine smile. “How are the boys dealing with everything.” She motions to where our children are already playing together.

  “They’re amazing,” I reply with a sigh as we watch them. “Both of them. They’ve just so effortlessly accepted everything we’ve thrown their way. Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky we’ve been when it comes to this situation.”

  “You’re definitely lucky. Both you and Trystan,” Kari agrees, her eyes flicking back to me. “Do we know what Cam’s next step is?”

  “Finding a match,” I answer without hesitation. “Right now, we can use transfusions to keep his cell counts up, but they’ll always wear off. It’s not a long-term solution at all.”

  She looks pensive as she studies me. “I see.”

  I’m sure Cooper has told her of our baby plan, but she’s a mother, and I can see the wheels spinning. She clea
rly has questions, but she’ll wait until we’re alone before expressing her concerns, and I can respect that she has them.

  It’s a half-baked idea, we know this, but for Cam, we’ll try anything.

  It isn’t much longer before Trystan’s at the door again, this time it’s to call us inside for dinner. All four boys take off to clean up, and I stand and offer Kari my hand. She rolls her eyes but accepts the boost.

  Dinner is a lively affair. Everyone seems to be accepting of the situation we’ve found ourselves in. It feels like a family get together, and really, that’s what it is. There’s a whole table of new additions to Cam’s already large family.

  As dessert is served and our get together is wrapping up, a new idea springs to mind. “I was thinking,” I say, gaining everyone’s attention. “Since Tuesday is the fourth of July, why don’t we do a cookout on Sunday?”

  Trystan tilts his head with a shrug. “Sounds good to me.”

  I glance around the table, and a small smile curves my lips. “I was thinking we should invite my family, too. We might as well all get to know each other in one fell swoop.”

  Kari speaks up. “That sounds perfect, Easy. I’d love to meet your family as well.”

  Bunnie nods in agreement. “That sounds lovely. Our flight leaves Sunday night, but a barbeque in the afternoon would be perfect.”

  Trystan smirks at me from across the table. “Sounds like the women have spoken. I’ll run to the grocery store in the morning while you call and invite everyone.”

  He stares at me for a beat longer before I avert my eyes, only to catch Bunnie curiously looking between us. I can do nothing but look away—straight to where Cam is slipping food from his plate to Blue.

  “Cameron!” I reprimand.

  He shrugs. “What? He likes it.”

  “Sure does, Mama,” Blake chimes in. “See?” He drops another bite of food right into Blue’s waiting mouth.

  Everyone at the table freezes, including me. Blake has called me Mama Easy a couple of times, but he’s never just called me Mama. My heart races and I flutter my lashes to keep the wetness from spilling.

  I swallow it all back before speaking. “I see.” I clear my throat. “But I think he’s had enough tonight. You two eat so you can have ice cream.”

  Both faces turn to me with wide eyes. “Ice cream?” Blake asks.

  I nod. “Yep, as soon as your plates are cleaned.”

  They dig in, Blue forgotten for the moment. Slowly, everyone else goes back to their food, too, after having watched the exchange. My eyes can’t help but seek out Trystan’s. His smile is broad and a matching one forms on my own lips.

  He winks.

  I roll my eyes and get back to my own food.

  Once everyone is finished and we’ve seen them out, I hurdle the boys up to the bath and let them play with their toys. When that’s done, I send them to their room and let them know that Trystan will be in shortly to read. After heading downstairs, I find him just as he’s finishing the dishes.

  “The boys are waiting for you,” I announce.

  He wipes the counter beside the sink and turns to me with a grin. “For a day that started off rocky, I say we did all right.”

  I lean against a bar stool and nod. “I think so. Your parents were pretty accepting after we explained.”

  He shakes his head. “Yeah, I got a text from Coop as soon as he landed, letting me know that Dad had taken off. He figured they were coming here.” He frowns a little, then takes a deep breath. “After they shut up and listened, I think they reacted all right.” He chuckles as he walks over to me. “About as well as Harold Wilder.”

  I smack him on the stomach. “Ha, and you have to face him again Sunday.”

  He grabs my hand and holds it in place, his eyes burning into mine. He moves it across the muscles of his stomach, and they tense under my touch. The spark that’s always between us ignites into a small flame.

  He leans closer, his enticing scent invading my nostrils. “Can I kiss you, Easton?”

  I want it. I want it so bad, but this is where the line has to be drawn.

  Leaning forward, I move toward his mouth. When we’re centimeters apart, I redirect my lips to land on his cheek with a soft kiss. His muscles uncoil beneath my fingers as he accepts my decision.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, stepping back, afraid to meet his eyes.

  He grasps my chin and directs my gaze to his. “Never apologize. I asked a question, and you gave me an answer. Not the one I was hoping for, but an answer nonetheless.”

  “I’m just remembering the ground rules. Kisses only build passion and right now it’s not possible to quench,” I explain with a shrug. “It’s not fair to either of us.”

  “I get it.” He gives me a wink. “Later.”

  “Promises, promises,” I tease.

  “You’re killing me, Easton,” he says dramatically.

  I laugh and grab his arm. “Come on. The boys are waiting.”

  We make our way through the living room and up the stairs. But when we reach the top, Trystan suddenly backs me into the wall. His body presses close and mine recognizes the heat between us.

  “I need you tonight. Every night,” he growls. “Please, say you’ll let me fuck you.”

  His pleas reignite the flame, and with his body against mine, I’m unable to smother it. I reach up and bury my hands in his hair, yanking his lips to mine. Our mouths meet for a sloppy kiss full of lust and passion.

  As soon as I realize what we’re doing, I push him away and tilt my head, motioning to Cam’s door. “Go, read to the boys. When you’re done, I’ll be in my room.”

  He breathes deeply several times, gaining control before he speaks. “I never imagined myself saying this, but trying to make a baby with you has become my favorite pastime.”

  4 Danger: Falling Rock Zone

  Trystan

  “Fuck, yes, baby. Ride my cock.” I grip her hips roughly and pivot her back and forth, thrusting up to bury my myself deeper.

  Her hands go to her tits and she squeezes, her thumbs brushing her nipples, causing her to moan. The sight of it is enough to make my cock pulse as it thrusts in and out of her. I rise and remove her hands, replacing them with my lips. I suck and lave and thrust. Her hands grip my hair and her mouth attaches to my neck, biting and nipping.

  She writhes over me, her hips swiveling against my thrusts. “Trystan, I ca … I can’t hold out.”

  “Let go, baby, just let it go,” I groan in her ear.

  Her head falls back, and her nails dig into my shoulders. I thrust harder and faster, deeper and longer. “Fuck, baby, fuck you feel so good. So fucking good.”

  “Trystan … Trystan,” Easton says, and it sounds far away.

  “Mmm, baby, come on …”

  “Trystan!” Her voice is sharper and a shake to my shoulder accompanies it.

  My eyes snap open, and I’m in the guest room with Easton standing over me. Her arms are crossed and she’s sporting the smirkiest-smirk I’ve ever seen her wear.

  I grip the sheets between my fists. “Fuck!”

  “Having a nightmare there, Trystan?” she asks, attempting to sound innocent, but she knows. She so fucking knows.

  I do the only thing I can. I grab her and drag her down, lining her body against mine. “Does that feel like it was a nightmare?” I ask huskily.

  Her eyes fall closed as she grinds down only once before collecting herself. She gives me a cheeky grin. “A fantasy then?”

  I grip her ass and push her against my cock. “A memory, a very vivid memory, from last night.”

  “A recreation might’ve been possible if our children weren’t up already,” she says as she gets off me and stands. “Plus, both our families are due to arrive in just hours.”

  I pout. “Did you have to bring our families up at a time like this?” I motion to where you can still see the outline of my hardness.

  She laughs. “You better go take care of that. You’ve got work to
do in the kitchen.”

  “I’d much rather you help me take care of it.” I wink.

  She brings her hand over, ghosting her fingers where I crave her. “Let’s survive today and maybe I’ll reward you.” She turns, headed toward the door, but when she gets to the jamb, she leans against it and faces me once more. “I’ll get the boys’ breakfast since you have other things to take care of.”

  Goddammit! I push down on my cock once more before climbing from the bed. This fucking woman has me spinning in circles, never knowing which way I’m pointed. And sex dreams? What the fuck? If she hadn’t interrupted, I might’ve blown my load right there in my sleep.

  Again, what the fuck?

  Since our talk earlier in the week, I’ve made sure to keep our nighttime liaisons to what we agree upon. Strictly sex. During the day, we’re mother, father and friends, but when the sun goes down and the boys are in bed, we’re lovers. The fucking heat between us sizzles, and performing our “duty” is nothing short of fucking amazing.

  But it’s hard to keep those thoughts from creeping in. You know, the ones where I wonder if we could give our children a real family. Everything just seems to “fit” between us. I like everything about her. Too fucking much. And it’s scary. Mostly because I think my attachment is due to the fact that she loves my sons so much, and partly because of her declaration that it can never be.

  Not that I don’t think I could change her mind if I tried, but my head isn’t on straight enough itself to be sure that’s what I really want. I’m fucking confused, but not enough to stop what we’re doing and gain some clarity.

  I sigh and grab my clothes, making my way to the shower, determined to wash away the images from my dream. But I can’t, they only intensify, so I do the only thing I can. I grab my cock and close my eyes, bringing them to the forefront of my mind.

  I enter the kitchen, and the boys are sitting at the bar with bowls of cereal in front of them. As soon as they hear me, they turn. “Morning, Daddy,” Blake calls out.