Small Town Pretender by Brighton Walsh

Later that night, Asher collapsed onto the couch next to Nat, the earlier talk with Cole still weighing on his mind. He needed to make a decision on his career, and he needed to do it now. Though, truthfully, when push came to shove, he’d already done so. Turned out, he’d been right all along.

He’d gotten started in this business writing music and playing those songs at open mic nights. That had been his passion, but he’d caught some early breaks that had propelled him into the spotlight. And he’d felt sort of foolish giving up the possibility of a full-fledged career as a touring musician, so he’d gone down that path. But if this past week had reminded him of anything, it was that he preferred writing a song from the heart and playing it at an intimate wedding rather than a packed venue. Especially if that song was written about his wife, and especially if she was in the crowd.

Nat was curled up in the corner of the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she watched another episode of Supernatural, barely sparing him a glance when he sat down.

“Isn’t this, like, your hundredth time through the show?”

“I haven’t counted,” she said haughtily. “I refuse to quantify my love for the Winchester brothers that way.”

He snorted and slouched down farther on the couch, propping his bare feet on the coffee table. With a sigh, he ran a hand down his face, the events of the day catching up to him.

“Damn,” she said. “Gettin’ a little bent out of shape about my crushes over two fictional characters, aren’t you?”

He huffed out a laugh and turned his head toward her. “I wouldn’t dare come between you and the boys. It’s just been a really fucking long day. With June and the session…”

“You said it went really well, though, right?” she asked as she turned toward him, ignoring the TV altogether.

“It did. I mean, I think it did. But what the hell do I know about that?”

“You know enough to get her there in the first place.”

“If you remember, that was your suggestion.”

“Yeah, so I’m your better half. We already knew that.”

With a laugh, he slid an arm around her waist and tugged her up against him. “It’s more than that. It’s comin’ back from that session to find Wanda talkin’ trash about you right to your face, and then that call from Cole…”

“Why the hell are you still thinkin’ about Wanda? Because I’m sure as fuck not.”

“Maybe not now, but it bothered you then.”

“It did not.”

“Don’t even try to play it like that. This is me you’re talkin’ to.”

“What makes you so sure you know how I was feelin’?”

Because he knew her and could read her moods by her body language. Knew that when she was really happy, she couldn’t sit still, how when she was anxious, she tapped her feet. Knew when she was excited, she would poke and prod whoever she was with, so they were excited, too.

“You crack your knuckles when you’re pissed, and you were doin’ it so much I could hear it before I even got out of the car.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, you think you know me so well, huh?”

Undoubtedly. “I do.”

“You think that’s only one-sided?”

“What do you mean?”

“You might’ve known I was pissed talkin’ to her, but I know you’re gonna need something more than the Winchester brothers to get your mind off everything from today if you have any chance of fallin’ asleep tonight.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhmm…”

“And do you have any ideas on how to do that?”

“A few…” She straddled his lap and settled in, rocking herself against where he was very quickly perking up at her attention. She captured his bottom lip between hers, sucking it into her mouth, her tongue a wet caress that sent shock waves straight to his cock.

He groaned and palmed her ass, pulling her up and against him. Grinding her pussy against where he was hard and aching for her. The last thing they should be doing was fucking again. It only continued blurring that line between friends and whatever the hell they’d become. Made him fall a little bit more for her each time he sank inside.

But fuck if he was going to stop.

“Would these ideas involve us gettin’ naked, by any chance?” he asked against her mouth.

“They might, actually. But since a demon has possessed Owen’s body at some point in the past twenty-four hours—”

“Or he’s teething,” Asher said wryly.

“I don’t know. I think mine’s probably more plausible.”

They shared a laugh as Nat leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest as she rocked over him. “Regardless of the reason, we need to get as much sleep as we can. Because we both know he’ll be wakin’ one of us up in the middle of the night. Which means I need to work my magic.”

The kiss was slow initially. At least until the first swipe of her tongue, and then all bets were off as he sucked her into his mouth. As he cupped her ass, gripping her tight, not wanting to let her go.

By the time she pulled back enough to yank her shirt up and off, they were both trying to catch their breath. Though at that particular point, he didn’t much care if he suffocated. He’d gladly give up oxygen if it meant her lips remained on his.

She tugged his shirt off him before scrambling with the fly of his jeans, their kisses deep and slow, their hands roving and their names whispered pleas on the other’s lips. Soon enough, she sat astride him, pajama shorts and panties lost somewhere in the room and his cock pulled from the confines of his open fly.

No matter how many times they’d done this, the moment before he sank inside never got old. Breaths ragged, their eyes locked as he held the base of his cock steady for her. “Climb on up, wifey, and ride me to sleep.”

“Don’t boss me around,” she said, but still, she lifted up, notched him at her entrance, and took him inside her in one slow, steady plunge.

He groaned as Nat’s eyes fluttered closed, her face tipped toward the ceiling, her neck arched back, fingers digging into his chest. Christ, she was beautiful. The flickering light of the TV cast shadows over her skin, the turquoise ends of her hair just brushing across her shoulders, her breasts jutting out toward him.

Fuck, when was this going to get old? When would he tire of being inside her? Of feeling her wrapped around him, her mouth breathing him in? He could live a thousand lives and none of them would ever compare to this one now, with her.

Sliding his fingers into her hair, he tugged her face down to his as she rode him in slow, deep strokes. “You love takin’ me deep, don’t you, baby? Love workin’ that pussy over me and drivin’ me out of my damn mind.”

She bit her lip, her gaze heavy-lidded. “Thought that was the whole plan.”

He’d lost count of how many times they’d done this. Gotten absorbed in each other’s bodies. He’d had her fast and hard. Deep and rough. Slow and exploratory. He’d had her every way, in every position he could think of—several, more than once.

He now knew her in ways he’d never imagined he would. He knew the roll of her hips. What it meant when she sped up or slowed down. Knew the feel of her fingers locked with his. Knew, too, the softness of every inch of her body under his seeking hands. But the favorite of them all was that he now knew the sound of his name on her lips as she came.

He gripped her ankles as she widened her thighs, sinking down on him to the root. She rocked her clit against the base of his cock, her movements speeding up with every labored breath.

“If you think this is gonna get my mind clear for the night, you’re wrong. ’Cause every time I’m inside you, it’s all I can think about for hours. Days.” He kissed a path up her neck, scraping his teeth along the underside of her jaw. “You consume me. You own me. And I better own you too when I’m inside you. When I’m makin’ you come, even if you’re the one givin’ me a ride.”

“Ash…”

“Fuck, Nat.” With a groan, he spilled himself inside her as she shuddered around him, her thighs clamping tight to the outsides of his legs as she panted through her release.

He’d never considered himself a particularly insatiable man. Sure, he enjoyed sex, but he didn’t let it control his life. But now, not an hour went by when he didn’t think about this. About the feel of her breasts against his chest. Her moans on his lips. Her pussy rippling around him as she came undone on his cock.

Not an hour went by, either, when he wasn’t reminded that she wasn’t here to stay. Reminded of just how quickly this would all be gone.

* * *

Nat had been right aboutone thing—they’d barely had time to catch their breath and put their clothes back on before Owen’s cries filtered out from his room. Asher had gripped her face, pulling her to him and pressing a kiss on her lips before telling her he had it and she should get some sleep.

As if she were going to be able to do that. All day, she’d been able to tell something was off with him. Initially, she’d assumed it was June’s therapy session, though from what he’d told her, that had gone well. And then there had been Wanda in the Square. Most Havenbrook residents had been welcoming and kind, but there were still those outliers who just couldn’t seem to help themselves.

And then on top of that, Cole had called to prep Asher for the hearing in a few days. Unlike the last one, she intended to be there this time. Her momma had practically ordered Nat that she’d be taking the kids that day so she could attend, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

Owen’s cries had finally quieted, and she crept down the hallway toward his open bedroom door. She wrapped her fingers around the doorframe and peeked around the corner. Asher sat in the rocking chair next to Owen’s crib. The baby was resting against his chest, his eyes shut as he sucked hard on a pacifier. Even in the minimal light of the bedroom, she could tell his cheeks were flushed.

They’d come upon this instance once prior—a couple weeks ago. Owen had had a fever—a low-grade one, but it might as well have been life-and-death for how they’d responded. For the care and concern Asher had shown. The same he was showing now.

For once, she didn’t want her camera to capture this. Wasn’t distracted by which settings she’d use or how she’d compose the shot. Instead, she didn’t want to look away, even for just a second. She was too enamored of the scene. How Owen looked, snuggling up against Asher’s chest. How Asher cradled him, his cheek resting against the top of his nephew’s head, his face downcast. The sound of his voice as he sang a lullaby, the soft melody soothing the baby to sleep as the two rocked.

Her heart clenched even while anger overcame her. The fact that this man—this perfect man who’d done nothing but what he thought was right for these kids—might have them taken away. All because of someone with more power and more money than he had.

That was something she’d dealt with her whole life. Her daddy had done nothing but flaunt his power and his status. Held it over her head and the heads of her sisters the entirety of their childhood. For better or worse, it had shaped every ounce of who they’d become. She was certain he hadn’t intended for Nat to say fuck it and run away, bucking all expectations as she fled.

Funny thing was, in the end, she hadn’t been able to run away from it because she’d ended up right back where she’d started. Tangled up with an influential family willing to do whatever it took to get what they wanted. Except this time, unlike when her daddy used to sweep any and all of her transgressions under the rug while hanging her friends out to dry, she was powerless.

It wasn’t long after she’d tiptoed her way back to their bedroom and slipped under the covers before Asher walked in, his face lined with exhaustion or worry or both.

“He finally asleep?” Nat asked as Asher shed his clothes before crawling in next to her.

“Yeah. Hopefully it sticks this time.” He wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close, and she hummed out a contented sigh. With his lips pressed to her forehead, he said, “Enjoy the private concert, did you?”

She grinned against his chest. “Just practicing my stalkin’. How do you think I’m doin’?”

“I’m tellin’ you, you gotta do something about the cement blocks, wifey.”

With a laugh, she poked him in the side, and he flinched away, laughing under his breath before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“You feel any better, or did you just spend the whole time mindlessly reciting lyrics while your mind spun about the call with Cole?”

He blew out a heavy sigh. “Sometimes it really sucks how well you know me.”

“I hate to tell you this, but it’s only gonna get worse as time goes on.”

“That mean you plan to be by my side for a while?”

That had never been in question. Now, though, she had to contend with what, exactly, that looked like. Regardless, one way or another, she’d be by this man’s side for the rest of her life.

“Thinkin’ about it.”

He smiled against her forehead. “I called Carla tonight and told her I’m ready to go all in on songwriting.”

She gasped, bracing herself up on her elbow as she rested her hand on his bare chest. “Are you serious? You sure you’re ready to give up your dream of bein’ a big star?”

“C’mon, you know as well as I do that wasn’t ever my dream. I just felt like a fool for rejecting the chance since it fell in my lap. But this past week—writin’ that song and playin’ it at Will’s wedding… It reminded me I’m not in this business for the fans. I’m in it for the music, and I can create that anywhere as long as I have a notepad and a guitar.”

“Have you called Cole to let him know you’re signing a contract to prove income?”

“I will in the mornin’.”

“So, I guess that means you really are stayin’ here in Havenbrook.”

“If I get the kids…”

“When.”

“When,” he agreed. “What about you? What comes after your shoot in Ireland?”

God, she hated that he was talking as if she were already gone when they were lying in the same bed, nearly naked, after he’d just been inside her. As if her leaving was a foregone conclusion.

It was, though, wasn’t it? That’d been what they’d agreed on. What she’d wanted. She’d never wanted to be tied to this town.

But she was starting to think she wouldn’t mind being tied to this man.

She cleared away the hurt in her voice, hoping he didn’t hear it. “I’m not sure. Maybe work on that coffee table book I wanna do. Summer or fall would be the perfect time for it.”

That, and she wouldn’t be so far away. The first few months would probably be really hard on Asher, June, and Owen. Even if she wasn’t in their lives daily, she could come back and visit him…them…at a moment’s notice.

“You won’t get itchy bein’ so close to Havenbrook for so long?”

It wasn’t her proximity to Havenbrook that she was worried about. It was her distance from him.

“I just thought it might be nice to be closer.”

He tightened his hold on her, squeezing her into his side and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “That’d be nice for your family. And us, if we’re all still here.”

“You will be. Those kids are gonna be givin’ you gray hairs in no time.”

He huffed out a laugh and brushed his lips against her skin. “Do you remember how nervous I was for my first show with Luke Bryan? You were in Scotland, and I called you from backstage, freaking out, even though it was, like, three a.m. where you were. I woke you from a dead sleep, but you still talked me off the ledge.”

She’d missed his first big performance thanks to a scheduled shoot, but she’d been there for his third. By that time, he was a pro, but when he hadn’t been…when he’d been nervous and unsure, it was her he’d called.

“Yeah, I remember. I sat in my hotel room for hours after, wishing I’d been able to get there.”

“If I had to choose one or the other, I’m glad you’re here now ’cause I’m a hell of a lot more nervous about the outcome of this hearing than I ever was about gettin’ up on a stage in front of thousands of people.”

She shifted, bracing herself up on her elbow as she rested her hand on his bare chest. “Fortunately, I’m confident enough for the both of us.”

“Yeah?” he said, skimming his fingers up her spine. “That doesn’t surprise me. I think you probably strutted your way right out of your momma, not an ounce of self-consciousness or doubt in you.”

She loved the way he saw her. Loved the person she was in his eyes. “In that case, you should probably just believe me, then.”

“If only it were that easy. The Haywards have a team of people fightin’ for this. I’ve got Donovan and a social worker who hopefully has seen that we—” He cleared his throat. “That I love these kids enough to keep them.”

She ignored the pang in her heart when he stumbled over his words and cast her aside, leaving just him and the kids…a family of three she wouldn’t be a part of.

“Look, the Haywards are self-entitled pricks who haven’t even called check in on their grandkids. Even though Seville is a stubborn jackass, I’d bet my lens collection on the fact that even he wouldn’t be willin’ to place those kids with someone who wouldn’t love them as much as you do. All ’cause of a grudge.”

“Your lens collection, huh? Shit, wifey, you really are confident, aren’t you?”

“Damn straight. And once he names you guardian, we… Well, you three will be able to be one happy little family.”

Asher stared up at her, his eyes flitting between hers as he studied her for long moments before he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And you’ll finally be able to leave Havenbrook. Again.”

They were the same words she’d said to herself dozens of times before. Had, in fact, said on every trip back home since the day she’d left.

So then, why did hearing them coming from him sit like a boulder in her stomach?

He reached up and brushed her hair back, running his thumb down the side of her face, his touch so gentle. So reverent. “I know how much you’ve given up to be here for me and for them. I’m never gonna be able to repay you for that, Nattie,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.

She swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat and pasted on a bright smile, while inside, it felt a little like she was dying. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

She laid down her head on his chest, her ear directly over his heart. She had no idea why it suddenly felt as if her insides were being ripped to shreds, her heart pulverized. It wasn’t the thought of leaving Havenbrook. This town, though she’d grown to like it a hell of a lot more than she had at eighteen, was still just a town. She’d seen hundreds of them over the years. Knew she could find her place anywhere in the world.

But it wasn’t the geography she was so sad to leave. Wasn’t the Square or the townsfolk or even her family. It was the thought of leaving Asher and the kids she’d grown to love. The very idea filled her with a sense of dread, not knowing what she’d do when they were no longer a daily part of her life.

For hours, she lay there, listening to Asher’s steady breaths and the soft beat of his heart. All the while, one thought repeated like a broken record in her mind.

She hoped he asked her to stay.