Final Sharp Turn (Sharp Turn Saga #3) Page 6

  “Yeah?” I ask. “Did he make it home okay?”

  “Man, you’re going to love this. Both of ya,” he says with a dramatic pause. “He’s here!”

  “Here?” My brows furrow as I glance at Easton, but instead of confusion, her mouth drops open in surprise.

  She gasps. “Oh my God. With Amelia?”

  My eyes narrow as I think over the weekend. I search the depths of my mind for any image of the two together, but all I see is Easton. Her gorgeous smile as she became my wife, the sly twinkle before she shoved cake in my face and the contentment as we danced the night away.

  Amelia and Brandon are nowhere to be found.

  Coop barks out a laugh. “He didn’t exactly say, but judging by what I saw at the reception, I’d definitely give it a hell yeah.”

  “Well, what did he say?” I ask as Easton plucks out her phone and shoots off a text—to Amelia no doubt.

  “Oh,” Coop says, apparently not expecting me to ask. “He said there’s an offer on the restaurant, but he won’t be able to handle it until he’s back in Chicago.”

  “And that’ll be …” I pause, leaving my question hanging.

  Easton practically starts vibrating in her seat and bumps my arm, holding her phone up so I can see the screen. He may or may not be here, it reads.

  “He didn’t really say,” Coop responds, and I just shake my head. “Why don’t you ask him tomorrow. I’ve got a hundred dollar bill that says he’ll be there.”

  “I’m not touching that one,” I say with a chuckle, picturing my old wingman with Amelia. “All right, Coop, we’re about home. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Easton gives me a concerned look as she ends the call. “We haven’t even gotten off the Interstate yet. What’s up?”

  An internal battles wages inside my mind, but I finally decide to share my concerns. “I just don’t want you to get too excited over this development.” I motion to her phone that’s clutched tightly between her hands. “Brandon hasn’t exactly been the settle down type in the past, and I’d hate for Amelia to get hurt by one of my friends.” Her hand comes up and covers her mouth as she tries to hide a giggle, and I narrow my eyes. “What?”

  Her lips twitch before she leans closer to brush her fingers through my hair. “I really really appreciate that you want to look out for Amelia, but she’s a big girl and can take care of herself.”

  I groan because her hand in my hair feels so fucking good. “If you say so, baby, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  She tilts her head and pecks the corner of my lips. “Ditto.”

  Halloween dawns bright and sunny, much warmer than Blake and I are accustomed to, and I’m thankful as fuck. Along with trick-or-treating, we have a family celebration planned, and I’m glad to see the warm weather is going to hold. The last thing we need is for Cameron to catch a cold right before his transplant.

  While Easton goes into the office for a couple hours to basically hand the reins over to her workers, the boys and I have an appointment. I didn’t share our plans with her, as I want to surprise her, and I hope she sees it as a good surprise. Based on our conversations with David and Kabir, it’s one I find necessary.

  “Come on, dudes, we’re here,” I say as I reach in and release first Cam’s buckles and then Blake’s. “Are you ready to get your haircuts?”

  “I ready, Daddy,” Blake says as he crawls from his seat. “It not gonna hurt, right?”

  I chuckle as I take their hands. “Nope, it won’t hurt a bit. You don’t remember last time?”

  “I does,” Cam says, looking up at me excitedly. “Mama always brings me here. It not hurt, Blake.” He shakes his head as he looks to his brother.

  “Okay, brother,” Blake says as we enter the building. “Aunt Kari usually takes me wif Carson and Blaine.”

  Guiding them to a couple chairs, I lift each one and settle them down. “Stay right here and let me go sign us in.” I ruffle Blake’s hair, already feeling a little sentimental over the action. “Daddy will go first so you can see, okay?”

  Once I have their nods of approval, I move to the counter and start signing our names. “Hello, sir. Can I help you today?”

  I continue writing as I glance in her direction. “We have appointments with Vanessa.”

  She glances at the sheet and her brows rise. “Three of you?” Her eyes scan from me to the boys and back. “I can get started on one of you now if you’d like?”

  Laying the pen on top of the clipboard, I meet her gaze. “This is a first for me, but my wife is a repeat customer, so I think I’ll stick with her normal hairdresser.”

  “Oh, great,” she replies, giving me a too-wide smile. “I’ll just go see how long the wait is, then.”

  She scurries back to one of the other women, who then turns to look us over. When her gaze lands on Cameron, her brows pucker and she quickly removes the cape from her current customer. After a few pleasantries, the customer comes to the counter while the lady, Vanessa, I presume, heads in our direction.

  She holds out her hand as she approaches. “I’m Vanessa, and I’ll be your hairdresser today.”

  I stand, second-guessing myself already. “I’m Trystan Ashby, and this is Blake. I assume you already know Cam.”

  “I do know Cameron,” she replies with a smile. “Y’all come on back.”

  I blow out a breath and motion for the boys to follow. “I’m sure you’re accustomed to Easton bringing him, but she’s at the office today.”

  “Please, Trystan, no worries,” she says, holding up a hand to halt my explanation. “When Amelia made the appointment for you, she gave me a quick run-down of the situation.” She looks to the boys as she shakes out a clean cape. “Now, who’s first?”

  I hesitantly hold up a finger. “That would be me.”

  “Well, sit right on down.” I comply, and she closes the cape around my neck, finishing by scrubbing her fingers through my hair. “What are we doing today, Mr. Ashby?”

  I meet her eyes in the mirror. “Leave a quarter of an inch.”

  By the time we make it home, Easton’s car is in the driveway. I grip the wheel tightly, and my eyes scan to the rearview mirror. The boys are cute as shit, but I feel like we left five pounds of hair at the salon. I guess it’s time to face the music.

  After releasing the boys, I grab their hands and carefully lead them into the house. “Easton,” I call as we pause in the living room.

  “Up here,” she says, and I follow her voice to our bedroom.

  I pause in the doorway, a boy attached to each hand, as she goes back and forth from the dresser to the bed, where she has an open suitcase. Of course, she’s packing for the hospital.

  Hesitantly, I clear my throat.

  Her eyes jump to us, and she freezes in her spot, tears gathering. “My boys,” she says softly. “Look at you, all three of you.” Her eyes flit to mine, and I can’t quite get a read on what she’s feeling, but I know it isn’t anger. She drops to her knees and opens her arms. “Come here, cuties.”

  They run to her, talking a mile a minute, and she humors them as she oohs and aahs over their new looks. I lean against the door frame and watch with a soft smile until the boys are released from her hold and race past me.

  She stands and crooks a finger. “Come here, you.”

  As soon as I’m close enough, she reaches up and brushes her hand over my close-cropped do. “This is going to take some getting used to,” she observes quietly, tears still glimmering in her eyes.

  My arms encircle her waist. “I’m sorry for not telling you. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “It is a surprise,” she says, her fingers absently brushing against my head. “And I love it. I love that you thought of Cameron this way. I love you.” Her head falls against my chest as silent sobs rack her small frame.

  Taking two steps back, I settle on the foot of the bed and cradle her in my arms, rocking her lightly as she buries her face into my neck and cries tears that have been a long
time coming. Easton is so fucking strong, and I have to admire her for it, but with what we’re facing, sometimes she needs to let go. After all, that’s what I’m here for.

  I brush along her hair and just fucking hold her until her sobs quiet. “Are we ready for this?” she asks, her voice soft and rough from the tears.

  “It’s Cam’s cure, baby,” I say as I pull her away so I can stare into those amazing eyes. “We can never move forward if we don’t embrace this for what it is. His chance to be rid of this disease completely.”

  She sighs. “You’re right. I just don’t look forward to watching him suffer.”

  “Me either. My mind automatically rejects the thought, but he won’t stay the way he is now if we avoid it forever. He’ll only end up back where he was when you first had to take him to the ER,” I say softly, brushing the pad of my thumbs over the wet patches on her cheeks.

  It’s hard to look at him now, doing so well, and think what he’s going to face will take that away. By allowing this transplant, we’re taking our seemingly healthy son and putting him through the worst scenario imaginable, but we have to remember that he’s not healthy. The medications and transfusions are just a blanket. They’re covering up the disease that’s trying to ravage him. With this transplant, we’ll be wiping it away.

  He’ll be cured.

  Easton sniffs. “Do you think he really understands?”

  We’ve attempted to explain to the boys about Cam having to go back to the hospital, but how do you make a couple of three-year-olds understand a bone marrow transplant? We’re just going to have to take things one day at a time.

  “No, baby, I don’t think so.” I let out a deep, resigned sigh. “We’ll just have to make sure we’re there every moment―good or bad―and make sure he feels our love.”

  “We’ll be there so much and be so good to him, he’ll tire of all the fussing,” she says, a small smile curving her lips.

  “Damn right.” I kiss her lips softly. “Now, are you ready to celebrate the Ashby family?”

  “I think that sounds perfect,” she answers, wrapping her arms around my neck and holding me tightly to her. “Thank you, Trystan.”

  By four o’clock, all our guests have arrived and settled into the backyard. It’s a scene reminiscent to our weekend Fourth of July party, with one exception. Brandon Marx. He arrives hand in hand with Amelia, and they’re even sporting matching costumes.

  “How the hell did I miss this?” I say, looking between the two as they come down the porch steps.

  “That answer is twofold.” Amelia rolls her eyes and holds up her fingers to tick off her points. “First, you missed it because you didn’t take your eyes off Easton the whole evening. And second, this isn’t anything … yet.” She sends Brandon a wink. “We’re having fun, and we promise not to cause bad vibes between our friends.”

  I hold up my hands. “Hey, it’s all good with me. You’re both adults. Just don’t come crying to us when you fuck it up.”

  Amelia looks at me knowingly. “That sounds very mature for a guy. I have to wonder where you obtained all that wisdom.”

  I shrug. “Who knows. Marriage has made me smarter.”

  Brandon slaps me on the arm. “I hate to admit it, man, but it looks good on ya. I can see exactly why you’re here and not in Chicago.”

  I smirk. “Like Easton said before, maybe you’ll decide to join me.”

  His eyes cut to Amelia, who’s wandered off to hold Violet. “Maybe I will, man. Maybe I will.”

  “Wow,” I say, my jaw gaping. “Has my wingman already fallen in love?”

  He snorts. “Not love. But damn, Amelia’s something else. Pretty easygoing, too. I like that.”

  “Do you like it because that means she won’t be clingy?” I ask, knowing Brandon pretty well. “I mean, I’m not going to butt in or anything, but I will say she’s a pretty fantastic woman and my wife’s best friend. I’d hate to see her get used.”

  “I’m not using her.” He holds up his hands. “I like her.”

  “Good.” I give his shoulder a squeeze as I pass him to pull the pork chops from the grill.

  Just as I finish, Harold approaches, holding out a beer. “Pretty nice celebration you got going on here, Trystan.”

  “Yep,” I agree, popping off the tab and taking a long gulp. “Something worth celebrating I’d say.”

  “Look, son,” he starts, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You damn sure do have something worth it. I’m so fucking happy for you two, hell, all of you. These boys have it all now, and that’s due to you and Easton. I couldn’t be prouder.” He gives me a firm squeeze before dropping his hand.

  Feeling a little choked up by his words, I just stand and nod my head quietly. We were lucky. How might this situation have turned out had it not been Easton who was raising my biological son? Where would Blake and I be today?

  “I am a lucky man, Harold. I don’t know where I’d be if I were in this situation with anyone else. I don’t even want to imagine.” I stare out at my boys, who are taking turns on the swing, then let my eyes wander back to the women huddled together. “All I can do is thank my lucky stars things turned out the way they did.”

  “I think Easy’s a lucky woman, too.” He kills his beer and crushes the can with his bare hand. “I want you to look around this yard and know that every one of us is here for you and Easton, no matter what happens after tomorrow. All you have to do is ask.”

  My eyes sting. “Thanks in advance.”

  He nods, tossing his empty can in the closest bin. “No need. We’re family, and this is what families do.” He claps my shoulder and walks over to join the women. As soon as he butts in, Easton’s eyes cut to mine. A smile forms, and she reaches over to give Harold a hug before starting in my direction.

  You know those commercials? The ones where everything around a woman freezes in the frame and the only fluid thing is her. Where every movement is accentuated as if the very air surrounding her is celebrating her existence.

  Well, this is that moment.

  My eyes only see her, and she shines like a diamond in a world of onyx. Her movements are effortless, easy, and she beams as she strides across the yard to join me. I’m dumbfounded by my luck, struck stupid by her beauty, in awe that not only is she mine, but she’s also taken me as hers.

  Her hand brushing my cheek breaks me from my vision. “Hey, where did you go?”

  I reach for her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close, so close that I can bury my nose in her hair and inhale. “Nowhere, baby. I’m right here.”

  She settles into my embrace and wraps her arms around me, her fingers tracing my almost hairless scalp. “Are you okay?”

  I peck her pouty lips. “I am. Just grateful. You can’t possibly know what this celebration means to me.”

  She sighs and scratches lightly. “Do you think that it doesn’t mean the same for me? Our family is everything. I don’t even want to imagine a life where this doesn’t exist.”

  “Me either, baby. Never.”

  “Trystan, Easy,” my dad says as he joins us. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve wanted to speak to the two of you together, and this is the first chance I’ve had.”

  Easton turns beside me and faces my father, cuddling underneath my arm. “Go ahead.”

  He looks around the yard before bringing his eyes back in our direction. “Well, first I want to apologize”―his eyes land on Easton―“to you. Well, to both of you, but more to you than anyone.” He nods at Easton. “I’ve let things from the past affect how I’ve acted in regard to you, and for that, I’m sorry. I see now that it was uncalled for. You’re nothing like that woman, and I held her sins against you.”

  “What brought this about, Dad?” I asked, pleasantly surprised by his apology.

  Not that he’s been horrible to Easton, but he and I did have a private conversation when he arrived at Disney and realized I hadn’t requested a prenup. The discussion was heated, but he backed down and
treated Easton with respect during our nuptials.

  “Well, son, frankly I just don’t want there to be any tension left when this transplant gets underway. It’s going to be hard enough for the two of you, my grandsons and the rest of us. Your mother and I want to provide any type of support we can, and that’s best done with no ill feelings between us. Especially to the mother of my grandsons and my new daughter-in-law.” He opens his arms toward Easton.

  She leaves the comfort of my embrace and steps into his. I’m almost choked up watching the scene unfold before me. They whisper between themselves, and my heart overflows. This is my dad’s acceptance of my life, and it couldn’t come at a better time.

  Easton steps back, wiping the corner of her eye, and immediately retakes her spot under my arm. I kiss her forehead. “You okay, baby?”

  At her small nod, I turn back to my father. “Dad, I don’t know what to say. This gesture means so much to us and I think you’ll find, over time, it was the best decision you’ve ever made.”

  He reaches over and grasps my shoulder with a firm grip. “I know it is, son.” With one more squeeze, he steps back and looks for his escape. “I’m going to head over and see if the women need any help setting out the food.”

  Easton leans back and looks to me. “That was … unexpected.” She smiles. “But unexpected in the best way. I think I’m going to love your father.”

  “Just remember who he is, and you’ll be okay. Even when he’s an ass, it’s usually out of love, and that’s how he shows it. Remember, the apple doesn’t fall far.” I smirk to remind her that, yeah, I might be more like him than she knows.

  “I like your kind of ass.” Her hand lands on my real ass and gives it a firm squeeze. “And your ass.”

  I chuckle and maneuver to where her hand slides away. “Baby, there're kids here.”

  “Oops, sorry.” She buries her face in my shoulder and snickers quietly.

  “I don’t think you are.” I tickle her sides lightly, eliciting more giggles from her.

  When she finally gets a hold of herself, we make our way over to where almost everyone is gathered and ready to eat. By the time everyone’s settled in place, the boys are returning from getting their hands washed. The adults stay seated as Easton, Amelia and Charlotte help them fix their drinks and plates.