Small Town Pretender by Brighton Walsh

Asher wasn’t sure his life had ever seen this much turmoil. He’d had the ideal childhood, two parents who’d had a happy marriage and who’d loved him despite him showing up ten years after they’d decided not to have any more kids. He’d had an older sister who’d irritated the hell out of him but loved him fiercely. He was the fun uncle. The one who could swoop in with noisy toys and too much sugar and leave when things got difficult.

Now, his momma and dad were gone, as well as his sister, and he’d just come from therapy with his four-year-old niece to help her get over her parents’ deaths.

Going into the appointment, he hadn’t known what to expect, but it definitely hadn’t been playing games the entirety of the hour. Beverly, June’s therapist, had assured him that was the best way in her experience to get kids to open up and talk about what was really bothering them. Since June was so young, she may not be able to articulate her emotions, but they often came out in play. He just had to be patient.

Regardless, it gave him something to think about other than this thing between him and Nat. He didn’t know what the hell was going on. He’d lived the past ten years of his life thinking he’d been able to brush away that blip of a crush he’d had on her. It had been a nonissue. Something he had happily cast aside if it meant their friendship would remain intact. Back then, he hadn’t been willing to jeopardize it for a kiss in the back of a pickup truck.

Except what they had now was a hell of a lot more than that.

“What do you say we go get ice cream?” Asher asked, glancing at June in the rearview mirror as he drove them back from Parkersville.

She grinned and threw her arms up in victory. “Yeah!” she yelled. “Let’s get something for Nat and Bubbie, too.”

“Actually, they’re gonna meet us there. In fact,” he said, pulling into a parking spot on Main Street, “looks like they beat us.”

Nat stood on the sidewalk in front of the ice cream parlor, Owen playing with the toys affixed in front of him on his stroller. An older woman with short dark hair he recognized as Wanda, the secretary at Havenbrook High, was talking with her. Though, from Nat’s posture, it was clear it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.

“Nat!” June yelled as they made their way toward her.

Nat whipped her head in their direction, a smile spreading across her mouth when her gaze landed on them.

“Hey,” he said, placing a hand on the small of her back before leaning in to kiss her. “Made a new friend?”

“Hardly,” she said against his mouth, then squatted in front of June. “Hey, Junie B. How’d your time go?”

“It was so fun! They had video games and a huge Barbie house and five thousand bins of Legos!”

“Five thousand, huh? That’s a lot.”

Asher laughed. “It was more like two or three.”

“But there were so many, Uncle Asher! I’ve never seen that much in my whole life.”

“Well, I guess that means we better start accumulating your own collection, then, huh?” Nat asked.

“Really?” June’s eyes lit up. “Can we go buy some now?”

“Thought you wanted ice cream, Junebug?”

“Oh yeah!” June tugged Nat’s arm and pulled her toward the ice cream parlor. “Let’s go!”

“Well, this certainly is something different,” Wanda said, regarding each of them with a smile that looked completely forced. “I was just tellin’ Natalie that this definitely wasn’t what any of us at the high school expected of her. But it’s nice to see she’s finally maturing.”

Asher narrowed his eyes at the gall of this woman. Who the hell did she think she was, coming in and saying bullshit like that about a woman who was fucking amazing?

“I don’t know,” he said. “Seemed pretty mature when she was published in three magazines last year.”

“Oh… Well, I—”

“Also seemed pretty mature when she won an award for one of her images the year before.”

“That’s certainly—”

“And I’d think bein’ brave enough to fly all over the world alone was mature. But what do I know? If you’ll excuse us.” Asher pressed his hand to the small of Nat’s back and opened the door to the ice cream parlor, ushering them inside, satisfaction settling over him when Wanda didn’t respond.

Once inside the safety of the shop, Owen squealed his approval, and June ran up to the case, her hands pressed to the glass as she stared at all the flavors. Meanwhile, Nat stared at him.

He ran a hand through his hair and slid her a glance out of the corner of his eye. Okay, so maybe he’d overstepped, speaking for her when he knew damn well she could speak for herself. But what the fuck was he supposed to do? Just stand by while someone insulted his wi—friend?

“What?” he asked.

She smirked at him. “What was all that about?”

“Small-minded people bein’ small-minded.”

“I wasn’t talkin’ about her. I haven’t spent a day in my life caring about what those people think of me. I’m sure as hell not gonna start now.” She tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugged him closer. “I’m talkin’ about your reaction to it.”

“I don’t appreciate anyone shitting on you for doin’ this. Or actin’ like you doin’ something so selfless is out of character, ’cause it sure as hell isn’t with me. You agreed to this ’cause I asked, so I’m not gonna let anyone badmouth you when I’m around.”

If he hadn’t been watching closely, he might’ve missed how her expression flickered for a moment before June pulled her away to choose her ice cream.

Shit. Why had he said that? With everything that had been piling up and all the other expectations weighing down on him, he wasn’t so sure he had the mental bandwidth to tackle what this thing between them was. Because it sure as hell felt like a lot more than a favor for a friend.

It had actually started to feel a little like this was their family.

“Hey, you want the usual?” she called from the ice cream case.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket as it buzzed with an incoming call, Cole Donovan’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Asher. It’s Cole. You have a minute? I want to talk about the custody hearing.”

His stomach bottomed out, worry over what was coming up both too soon and not nearly soon enough drowning him. He hadn’t gotten any closer to guessing what the outcome would be. If the judge would be able to put aside his personal prejudice against Asher and realize he and Nat would be the best fit for his niece and nephew.

He lifted his gaze to where Nat squatted down in front of the kids, taking turns feeding June and Owen from a tasting cup. She was laughing, her eyes bright as June danced around her and the stroller.

Yeah, he and Nat would be the best fit, except it wouldn’t be them together. This farce was so he’d be awarded custody. In the end, Nat wouldn’t stay in Havenbrook. She couldn’t.

She had run as far as she could from this place as soon as she’d been able, and he’d be damned if he kept her locked up in a cell just because he didn’t want her to go.