The attraction between Asher and me has always been too much. Burning too bright. And as much as I love that about us, I also fear it. Until he knows about the baby, I won’t feel right acting on any of that. Not to mention that, after he finds out, he probably won’t like me enough to want to start anything. The last thing I want to do is cloud his loyalties with sex.
When I tell him—and I will tell him—I want him to be able to walk away without the thought of whatever we have between us hanging thick.
But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that a little part of me hopes that he still feels the same about me. And that he won’t want me just because of what my baby can give him.
A family. Not with me, no, but with a part of his brother that will live on. I know I shouldn’t worry about that, but I’m only human, and it doesn’t help that I have been living in hormone overdrive for the last few months.
Sway sees me about two seconds before I fling the door open and stomp over to where he’s working on Dee’s hair. I say ‘working’ loosely because he’s really just sitting there brushing her brunette hair between his flamboyant arm waving. He smiles brightly, completely unconcerned with the pissed-off pregnant woman marching through his salon.
“I wonder how it’s going,” Dee giggles, clearly having not noticed me yet.
“Dee, darling, shut up,” he whispers with a smirk.
“Do you think he threw her over his shoulder and dragged her off to his cave? I bet he did. He looks like a dragger.” She snickers for a second before her eyes lift and they meet mine.
Brown to brown. Shock to anger.
If I didn’t love her so much and know deep down in my heart that she meant well, I would kill her. Or maybe just pelt her in the head with my damn open-toed shoes!
“I’ll tell you how he acted, you idiot. He marched in there and saved me from the toe-sucking maniac. And then he dragged me off, because let me tell you, he is a good dragger!”
“Uh . . . Hey, Chelcie,” she stalls.
“Yeah. Hey, me. Was this the plan to begin with? Just play with me until you could set Asher up to go all crazy man on me?”
“Sweetheart, it really was for the best,” Sway interjects, not even bothering to look guilty. No, not Sway. Sway has a reason for everything he does.
“The best for what exactly?” I demand. “And how do you even know?” I hiss.
“Sweet little ray of sunshine”—I cringe at the use of Asher’s nickname for me—“you’ve been sitting on your gorgeous ass for months, not willing to move forward. You’ve closed yourself off from everything except Dee, work, and the baby. I’ve seen the two of you, and trust me, honey—Sway knows attraction when he sees it. What you and that hunky man have is something combustible. You needed a nudge—you got one. Dee here was just the helper bee. She buzzed right on over to my ear and asked for my help. Buzz, buzz.”
“The helper bee,” I repeat, not even shocked that Dee has filled him in on everything.
“That’s what I said. I told her, we need some men that would make you realize just what’s been staring you in the face. Make you move the heck on, darling.”
“You’re joking, right?” Jesus, how stupid have I been?
“Afraid not, baby.” He leans closer and pets my hair. Literally pets me, smiling his beautiful smile and causing some of my anger to fall away.
“You?” I question Dee.
“Yeah . . . I’m sorry, Chelcie. I really am, but you weren’t going to act on it. Hell, I don’t even think you had plans to ever tell him about the baby. Wrong or right, now . . . Well, now it looks like you’re not going to have a chance because shit is about to get really real.”
I can’t even be mad at them. They’re right. I’ve been dragging my feet. Letting the fear of the unknown and the very real attraction between Asher and myself cloud what is really important right now.
The baby.
Because when push comes to shove, whatever is or isn’t between me and Asher is second to my sweet baby.
“You’re right. I’m not mad. Well, maybe a little mad for Phil, but I know you two are coming from the right place.”
Dee goes to say something but stops quickly, snapping her mouth shut, her eyes widening. Sway just bounces on the balls of his heels and claps his hands. I’m actually pretty sure he just squealed.
“Oh, Dee . . . look! It’s happening!”
“What’s happening?” I inquire a second before it happens.
The front door to Sway’s salon bursts open so hard that it snaps on its hinges. I know what’s coming before I even hear my name being growled—yes, growled.
“Chelcie!” The sound erupts through the room. My shoulders stiffen, but I turn and meet his eyes. “Get. Over. Here.”
I look back at Dee and Sway, hoping for some help but I only get blazing smiles and sharp nods. Lovely. Of course the matchmaker duo isn’t going to help me.
“Now, Chelcie,” he declares again.
I obviously am not moving at a pace quick enough to placate his request because he takes the ten steps to me from the door in five and lightly grabs my wrist, pulling me forward and out the door. Proving Dee’s theory right. He is a wonderful dragger.