Small Town Pretender by Brighton Walsh
Asher couldn’t get over how Nat had looked when Claudette had pulled out the ring that now sat on Nat’s left hand, having been a perfect fit. The one she kept staring down at as he snuck peeks at her out of the corner of his eye. The one that had made her eyes light up like a Christmas tree—something Nat didn’t do often, unless she was talking about some adrenaline-fueled adventure. Like jumping out of an airplane or rappelling down a mountain or otherwise threatening her life. Not for something as simple as a piece of jewelry.
Because of that, there hadn’t been a single question whether or not that was the one. And, because of that, he’d bought it without hesitation.
“It’s probably not gonna disappear,” Asher said, reaching over and squeezing Nat’s thigh.
She snapped her head toward him, as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I never—”
Before she could finish her sentence, June gasped from the back seat. “Our jewelry is magic?”
Asher glanced at his niece in the rearview mirror. She held up the truly hideous necklace she’d picked out, brought it as close to her eyes as physically possible, and inspected each gaudy bauble on it.
“Not sure,” Nat said. “We should probably run some tests when we get home.”
“What kind of tests?” June asked, awe heavy in her tone.
Nat glanced back at her and shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you have any ideas?”
June nodded enthusiastically. “We could wear them and jump off the bed to see if we can fly!”
“That’s better than tryin’ to jump off a roof,” Nat said under her breath. “Remember when our dumb asses did that onto a trampoline in high school?”
Yep, and they were damn lucky only one of them had ended up with a broken ankle and not all three of them paralyzed or dead. “If you tell June that story, I’ll kill you.”
“What story?” June yelled as Owen piped up with his agreement, babbling along.
“The one about turnin’ invisible with the right tool,” Nat said. “Maybe your necklace is the right tool.”
June’s eyes widened as she stared down at it before placing it over her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists. “Can you see me?”
Owen answered for them, laughing and pointing at her as he babbled a string of incoherency.
“Maybe we just need to polish it a little bit,” Nat said. “It’s pretty old.”
“Okay, I’ll give it a bubble bath.” June nodded definitively, certain in the way only four-year-olds could be.
Asher turned down the street toward his sister’s house, still expecting to see his sister and brother-in-law sitting on the porch steps out front to greet him like they always did. Instead, he found a car he didn’t recognize parked along the curb and a woman standing at the door, her hand raised to knock.
“Who’s that?” Nat murmured.
“No idea.” Asher pulled the car into the driveway and killed the engine. “You got June?” he asked, his eyes still on the stranger.
In his line of work, even if he wasn’t a household name, he’d still seen enough that he’d learned to be apprehensive and skeptical because you never knew someone’s intentions. And now that it wasn’t just himself he had to worry about, that distrust was amplified by a thousand.
“Yep.” Nat opened the door, her gaze just as scrutinizing as his. She’d always been protective of those she loved—him and Nash, especially, as well as her family, but it seemed that had been extended to his niece and nephew, too.
At the sound of their car doors shutting, the woman at the front door turned around before stepping down the porch steps toward them. “Afternoon,” she called, her hand braced above her brow to shield her eyes from the May sun.
“Hi. Can I help you?” Asher asked, holding a squirming Owen in his arms.
She strode toward him, a smile on her face though her demeanor said all business. He’d place her in her early forties if he had to guess, with her straight brown hair, thin wire-framed glasses, and drab if functional wardrobe. She held out a hand for him to shake. “Yes, I’m Sheila Cummings, a social worker with Department of Social Services.”
Asher’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Nat, fear and panic gripping him.
“No, no. Nothing to worry about. This is standard practice in a case such as yours. I called and left a couple messages about this appointment.”
“Ah, yeah, sorry about that. I…” He shook his head. “I haven’t really had a chance to go through messages.”
Cole had already prepared Asher for this meeting taking place, but that didn’t mean he liked it. While they didn’t have anything to worry about, the thought of letting someone into the house who had the power to take the kids away from him churned his stomach.
Sheila nodded. “Very understandable, considerin’ the circumstances.”
“Nat,” June said, tugging on Nat’s arm. “I wanna do the magic tests! Let’s go.”
“In a minute, Junie B.” Nat placed her hand on June’s head, all the while maintaining narrowed eyes at the social worker. She liked to say she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, but he’d seen some mama bear instincts come out more than once since she’d been there, now included.
Sheila smiled down at June and clutched the handles of a canvas bag in front of her. “A magic test? That sounds exciting!”
“Yeah!” June smiled and held up the necklace that hung excessively long on her short torso. “Nat says these might be magic ’cause they’re so old.”
“It sure is pretty. Where did you find it?”
“At the old store that smelled funny.” June shrugged, glancing back down at her necklace.
Asher breathed out a laugh at the same time Nat clarified, “An antique store over in Parkersville.”
“Wow, y’all’re brave to take little ones into a place as full as that!”
“Yeah, we didn’t exactly think that one through,” Asher said, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. What an idiot, admitting to the person with enough weight to get the kids taken from him that he hadn’t thought something through when it came to them.
But instead of narrowing her eyes and pulling out a legal pad to scribble furiously about all his and Nat’s wrongdoings, Sheila just laughed and nodded. “One of those live and learn moments, I suppose. Would y’all mind if we stepped inside so we can get started?”
Truthfully, yes, he did mind, but he couldn’t refuse. And he had no reason to be nervous. Cole had told him the social worker’s job was strictly to make sure June and Owen were in a loving, safe environment and that they were flourishing. That wasn’t the part he was worried about. They also had to contend with the farce he’d invented and make sure he and Nat pulled off the in love and happily engaged couple act.
Fortunately, they’d been friends long enough and had developed a sort of telepathic communication style, so they were on the same page throughout the longer-than-he-would’ve-liked visit. While Nat had wrangled June and fed Owen, he’d filled out paperwork, chatted with Sheila, and gave her a tour.
Thank fuck he hadn’t felt comfortable going through Aubrey and Nathan’s room yet, which meant the extra bedroom was full of both his and Nat’s things, one of her bras slung over his jeans on the chair he’d draped them on, and her scent permeating the room.
That scent had been doing things to him lately, especially since he’d been surrounded by it every night after she got out of the shower and climbed under the covers, all warm and soft. His cock had somehow managed to view that scent as a gunshot declaring it was go time, since he’d woken up every morning with his nose buried in her neck or her hair, breathing in all her sweet-smelling goodness while her ass was tucked up against his raging erection.
He couldn’t even say waking up like that was the first time he’d gotten hard thanks to Nat. That just wouldn’t be possible, considering she’d been around during the Random Boner days of his early teen years, where one would pop up if a slight breeze swept against his fly just right. But he could say it was the first time as a fully grown adult male who should have been able to have a modicum more control over his dick than he had at fourteen.
“I understand y’all’re gettin’ married?” Sheila asked, her brows raised as she sat on the oversized chair in the living room, her iPad braced on her knees.
“That’s right,” he said, glancing at Nat, who lay on her stomach next to June as they colored in the activity books Sheila had brought along.
“When’s the big day?”
“Well, we just got back from ring shopping, actually. We picked up our license today and have an appointment on Monday at the courthouse.”
“That’s wonderful news. Congratulations to you both.”
“Thanks,” he and Nat said at the same time, then shared a smile.
“Well…” Sheila slipped her iPad into the canvas bag she’d brought filled with activities for both kids. It hadn’t been surprising that Nat had managed to corral June with a coloring contest, but Asher hadn’t been expecting Owen to sit on the floor and play so nicely—or for so long—with the building blocks. “I’ll get on out of y’all’s hair so you can go about the rest of your day.”
After prying the now-beloved blocks from Owen’s grip and gathering up the explosion of crayons, Asher walked Sheila to the door, relieved to get her out of the house, even despite how pleasant she was.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. McCoy. I’ll be in touch to schedule another visit soon.”
“Drive safe,” he said with a wave before shutting the door and locking it for good measure.
Why that made him feel better, he had no idea. It wasn’t as if he thought the woman would come barging in uninvited, but it was at least another shield between them. He rested his forehead on the wood door and exhaled a long breath.
Warmth pressed into his lower back as Nat placed her hand there, and his abs tightened at the touch. Her scent swept over him before he could even open his eyes, and his body responded accordingly.
“Think we pulled it off?” she asked.
He lifted his head and glanced over at her before looking behind to where June tickled Owen’s stomach, the pair of them giggling up a storm. His stomach clenched, worry and uncertainty over what the future held swamping him. Over the possibility that he might lose those two. “God, I hope so.”