Tethered (Flawed Love Book 4)

by Emma Louise

  “What? Did you think he walked here?” Asa chuckles, using a finger to tickle Abel’s belly

  “Asa!” I cry, exasperation thick in my voice.

  “What’s the matter, sweet cheeks? You ashamed to be seen with me?” he jokes, but there’s an edge to it. One that immediately fills me with guilt. Taking a step closer to him, I raise my hand to cup his jaw, brushing my thumb over the tightness he’s trying to hide there.

  “Never.” It’s only one word, but I hope he hears how much I mean it. I could never be ashamed of anything when it comes to this man.

  “Tell me why you’re freaking out.”

  “I have your shirt on,” I answer on a whispered yell. “I don’t want her to see me like this.”

  “Why not?” The sight of his dimples fighting to be seen is almost enough to make me forget the predicament I’m in.

  “Well, for one thing, it barely covers my ass!” His heated eyes drop to where the offending shirt hits the top of my thighs. “And apart from that,” I keep on, ignoring his stare, “if she sees me like this, she’ll know that I spent the night!”

  “And?”

  “And?! She’ll know we had S.E.X!” I spell it out, using my free hand to cover Abel’s innocent ears. A loud bark of laughter rumbles out of Asa.

  “Sweet cheeks, you are too fucking cute.” Dipping his head low, he gives me a fast, hard kiss on my lips.

  “I’m being serious! You have to help me hide.”

  “Hide from who?” I jump when Bree asks from behind Asa as she seemingly materializes out of thin air.

  “Mama!” Abel yells, deciding that he’s had enough of me. He launches himself at Bree, and she catches him with an ease that I can’t help but be impressed by.

  “Nobody!” I practically yell, sounding borderline hysterical. Taking advantage of my hands now being free, I yank the hem of Asa’s shirt down as far as it will stretch. Even then it barely covers my ass. While I and every other female in Savannah appreciate Asa's preference for tight shirts, it means they’re not all that big. I'm sure my panties are on show right now.

  Breezes glances down at my bare legs, and I swear I see her trying to hide a freaking smirk. “Are you guys sure you don’t mind watching Abel for me? I wouldn’t want to interrupt anything.” My face burns as Asa rolls his eyes at his sister. I search her face, needing to be sure there’s no judgment there. I’m relieved when I only see a hint of curiosity.

  “It’s good practice for us,” Asa says, stepping closer to my back. He wraps one arm around my chest, the other curling around to cradle my growing bump. His words, his actions warm something inside me, and I lean back in his embrace.

  He’s making a statement. With the seemingly casual display, he’s telling Breeze that things are good. That we’re doing this.

  I could kiss him for not making another grand announcement.

  ***

  “How can a kid that doesn’t even walk yet make so much mess?” Asa asks as he surveys the damage Abel and I have done to the lounge floor. There are toys and cushions scattered from one end of the room to the other.

  “I have no idea. I was too busy trying to keep him from climbing on the furniture to keep up with the toys,” I whisper from where Abel has me pinned to the chair.

  After he spent most of the morning emptying the toy chest Asa has here, Abel quickly grew tired. Deciding to make the most of it, I put a movie on and wrapped us in a blanket on the sofa. He was asleep by the end of the opening credits.

  “Want me to put him down in the crib? Then we can have a nap of our own.”

  “You have a crib?” I ask, looking around and ignoring the innuendo lacing Asa’s suggestion.

  “Sweet cheeks, I have four nieces and nephews and two sisters who like getting their nails done a little too much. It’s practically a day care center around here sometimes.” He chuckles lightly as he gently plucks a sleeping Abel off my chest.

  He’s effortless with him. In fact, now that I come to think of it, he’s been totally at ease all day. Resting the baby on his wide chest, Asa carries him down the hall to one of the rooms I haven’t been in yet. Leaning against the door, I take in the plain white walls, the basic nursery set, and the four toy chests that are stacked along one wall. He wasn’t lying. He could totally open a day care here.

  The butterflies in my belly take flight as I watch him kiss Abel on the head, then he places him in the crib. I can’t help but imagine him with our baby. He’s going to make a great dad, and that is weirdly a huge turn-on.

  For the next hour, while the baby sleeps, I get to show him just how much of a turn-on it is.

  I wake up alone in the bed, feeling groggy. Looking at my phone, I see it’s just past one o’clock in the afternoon. Making sure I'm dressed properly this time, I go in search of Asa.

  I hear voices coming from the kitchen, so I head in that direction, assuming it’s Breeze arriving to collect Abel. I don't intend to eavesdrop, but when I'm just outside the doorway, I hear my name mentioned. Something about the tone of it makes me stop to listen.

  “You need to drop this. I’m not kidding, Ava,” Asa grit out.

  “I don’t know how you can even think of doing this with her,” she barks back at him.

  “Remind me again how this has anything to do with you?”

  “You’re my brother! How can you expect me to NOT say anything? You know who she is, what she did to Bree.”

  The familiar sting of embarrassment hits. God. How long am I going to be punished for one stupid conversation? My heart constricts in my chest at the level of disdain I hear in Ava’s voice. She hates me.

  “That’s between her and Bree. Again, you don’t have to stick your nose in it.”

  “And we both know Bree is too nice to tell you how uncomfortable this whole fiasco makes her.” Bile fills my throat at that. Has Bree been pretending to like me? To support whatever it is Asa and I are doing? I wrack my brain trying to find any hint that she might have been uncomfortable. I don’t think she has, but is that just wishful thinking from me?

  My head spins as Ava keeps on. Asa tries to talk over her, but it’s only her voice that I hear.

  “Mom would be turning in her grave. At least tell me you’re getting a test done, Asa. You can’t be stupid enough to just blindly believe her.”

  That scores a direct hit. Turning around, I run up the stairs and make it to the toilet just before losing the contents of stomach.

  All while Ava’s words ring on a constant loop in my mind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ASA

  “Why the hell are you still here?” Tyler asks as I wipe down my chair. It’s late. I should have been home hours ago, but yet again I'm at the shop past closing time.

  “Someone scheduled me in for an hour session that actually ended up taking three,” I fume. I couldn’t turn the guy down. We might be busy, but as a new shop we can’t risk pissing off customers before we’re established.

  “Ouch,” he winces, knowing how draining it is to be tatting someone for that length of time. “By someone you mean Nancy, right?” I don’t have to answer. The look on my face tells him he’s right. “This shit isn’t funny anymore,” he tells me seriously. Ty is usually the first to say told you so whenever she fucks something up, which lately is happening much too often. The fact that he’s being serious right now tells me that enough really is enough.

  “I agree, but I don’t trust her not to sue our asses if we don’t do it by the book.”

  “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he grunts.

  “You okay locking up tonight?” I ask, needing to change the subject away from Nancy and all the things she’s doing to get on my nerves. “I told Lucy I’d be home hours ago.”

  “Well isn’t that just the cutest thing?” he coos at me in a feminine voice.

  “Fuck you.” I laugh at his ribbing.

  “Never thought I’d see the day you of all people would be domesticated. Things are good with you guys?”


  Domesticated. Why doesn’t that word make me want to run for the hills? A few months ago, I would have bolted. But there’s something about knowing that I’m going home to Lucy waiting for me that feels ... right.

  “Things are more than good.” They are good, even with Lucy’s sickness returning. I thought she was over that shit, but this last week she’s been feeling rough most of the time.

  “Happy for you, man.”

  “Don’t you start getting sappy on me. I have enough of that shit from Bree.” I avoid thinking about how different Avalon is. I’m not over the shit she pulled in my house last week. I know she thinks she has to play mom to all of us, but she needs to learn the shit she spews without thinking has consequences. Right now, that consequence is me ignoring her ass. She’ll come around, she always does, but this time she’ll owe me a big apology. I'm just thankful Lucy didn’t hear her.

  “I’m serious, man,” Ty says without a hint of humor in his voice. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I saw you happy—”

  “I’ve been plenty happy,” I interrupt stubbornly.

  “Really? You can stand here and tell me you’ve been happy? There’s a difference between being content with what you have and actually being happy, right?”

  If you would have asked me before if there was a difference, I would have said no. But now I know exactly what it feels like to be happy. And it's something I don’t want to lose.

  ***

  Letting myself into the house, I’m surprised to find it quiet and dark. I know Lucy is here. We spoke by text a little while ago, and her car is in the driveway. She’s not in the kitchen, but there is a plate of food in the oven keeping warm. I feel like shit that she went to so much effort. We were supposed to be going out on a date; instead, she cooked for me and spent the evening alone all while I was stuck at work.

  Making sure the house is shut down properly, I head toward the only other place she would be. My bedroom.

  She’s asleep again. I feel a pang of worry. It’s something I’ve gotten used to feeling since I found out Lucy is pregnant. It’s a foreign feeling, but not one I hate. She’s just over half-way through the pregnancy now, and everything has been fine at the doctor’s appointments I’ve been to.

  She looks so damn pretty, her face soft in sleep. Seeing her relaxed like this makes me realize how tense she’s been over the last few days. I know she’s trying to work as much as she can before she takes maternity leave, but I’m starting to wonder if there’s not something else on her mind.

  Deciding not to wake her, I go back to the kitchen to eat the food she left me. The whole time my mind tries to work out what’s going on with her. I’m halfway through the highlights of last night’s football game when soft hands trail across the back of my shoulders. Looking behind me, I see a rumpled looking Lucy.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  “Hey,” she mumbles as she makes her way around the sofa to sit next to me. I lift my arm and wrap it around her, pulling her in close. Her body fits perfectly alongside mine, and her long legs stretch out to rest next to mine on the low coffee table. Lifting the remote, I turn the volume down a little.

  “You want anything to eat?” I ask against her hair, leaving my nose there so I can inhale her scent. It calms me, her being this close. It helps sooth that nagging thought that something is wrong. She shakes her head, snuggling in closer.

  The comfort doesn’t last long, because even though she doesn’t move away when I ask her how she’s feeling or about her day at work, her answers are all one word. Like she’s lost in her own thoughts and not paying me much attention. Deciding not to push it for now, I let us lapse into silence, and soon she’s fallen back to sleep.

  “Oh!” She jumps slightly a short while later, scaring the shit out of me.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer. She pulls herself out from under my arm and moves to straddle me. My heart pounds in my chest at the thought that something could be wrong, but the sight of her easy smile tells me she’s fine.

  “I thought I could feel something going on in there today, but I wasn’t sure,” she says, grabbing ahold of my hand and moving it to cover her ever-growing bump.

  “You felt her move?” I ask, hearing the awe in my own voice.

  “No, I felt him kicking.” She laughs softly, reminding me of the long-running argument we’ve been having over the potential sex of our baby. “I’ve felt these little bubbles a few times over the last few weeks, but nothing I could feel from the outside yet. Until today, anyway.”

  I stare at my hands spread wide over where the baby is, willing it to move. I’m about to pull my hands away when I feel it. The tiniest little twitch against the palm of my hand. I’ve felt babies kick, my niece and nephew, but this is a world away from how that felt.

  This is my baby.

  It's my flesh and blood I can feel.

  Lucy’s pregnancy has been an abstract thing for me. The end goal is a baby. While I’m aware of how huge that is and how life-changing it will be, right now I’m not really involved. I’m just a spectator along for the ride.

  I can make sure she’s healthy and happy. I can hold her hand at doctor’s appointments, but I’ll never experience it like she does. But this? This connection with my child is what makes it all feel very real.

  “Thank you,” I say, reaching up to cup her face, letting my thumbs trail over her full bottom lip. Her lips brush over mine gently, like she’s savoring the moment.

  When she goes to shift off my lap, I drag her back toward me. I’m not ready for this moment to end. It’s the first time in days I’ve had her here without her pulling away. My hands on her hips tighten as she brushes over the bulge in my shorts. We both gasp at the contact. Taking advantage, I plunge my tongue into her mouth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  LUCY

  Me – Where are you?

  The lack of a response on the screen feels like it’s mocking me. Scrolling through my phone until I find Asa’s name, I press the screen to call him for the fourth time since I got here. It doesn’t even ring before the voicemail picks up. I listen to Asa’s curt voice telling me to leave a message. I don’t bother. What’s the point when he's already an hour late?

  My eyes bounce between the clock on the wall and the front door. I’m pissed that he’s left me sitting here, but I still want him to walk in now. He better have a brilliant excuse for why I had to drive myself to the doctor’s office today. I waited as long as I possibly could for him to pick me up like we arranged, but he never showed up. Today is our second ultrasound. Something he claimed he was excited for us to experience together.

  Picking up my phone once again, I do the last thing I want to do. I call Ink to see if he’s still there. It rings twice before Nancy answers in her saccharine-sweet voice, the sound irritating like nails on a chalkboard.

  “Hey, is Asa there?” I ask, trying not to let my disdain seep into my voice too much.

  “Can I ask who is calling?” This bitch. She knows exactly who it is.

  “It’s Lucy.”

  “I’m sorry, Asa is ... umm ... busy right now. Did you want me to take a message?” she asks in that syrupy voice that I hate so much.

  “That’s fine. I’ll just wait until I see him at home later.” I can’t resist getting in that little jab. I get a sick moment of joy from the sharp inhale of breath she takes. He’s there, at the studio, just too busy to take my call. Why am I shocked? He’s too busy to come to this appointment, too busy to tell me in advance; of course, he’s too busy to take my call.

  I don’t wait for Nancy to respond, hanging up on her instead.

  Right as I’m putting the phone away, I hear a nurse calling my name. Giving the door one last glance, I follow her to the exam room. Pushing my disappointment aside, I concentrate on what Dr. Brookes has to say. Once he’s finished with all his tests, he tells me to get up onto the exam table so he can get a look at the baby.


  It’s been almost three months since the last scan, and I’m excited to see all the changes that have happened with the baby. A pang of disappointment hits me as the nurse turns out the lights. I didn’t expect to do this without Asa by my side. I don’t want to do this without him. It feels wrong somehow.

  “Okay, let’s see if we can get a good look at this little one,” Dr. Brookes says after he’s spread the cold jelly all over my exposed bump. He explains that he’s got to take some measurements first, so not to worry if he’s quiet for a while. Long, quiet minutes tick by before he turns the screen around so I can finally see the baby.

  “Oh wow,” I breathe when I see the clear outline of the baby on the screen. It’s nothing like it was the last time. I watch with rapt attention as its arms wave around and its legs kick.

  “Can I grab my phone?” I choke out through the sudden onslaught of tears. “Can I record it? Just a little. The dad, he couldn’t be here, and I don’t want him to miss it,” I ramble. I don’t know why I care, but suddenly, I do. The nurse passes me my bag, and I fumble with the phone, trying to get the camera app open.

  “Here, let me. You just lay back and watch the screen,” she says kindly, taking the phone from my shaky fingers.

  “Are we finding out the gender today?” Dr. Brookes asks when he’s finished showing me everything he’s just measured. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say yes, I do want to know. But that voice in the back of my mind telling me to wait for Asa is getting loud.

  “We could write it down for you, so you and the dad could find out together?” the nurse says, sensing my indecision.

  My body relaxes at her offer, some of the tension escaping now that the decision is made for me.

  Once the ultrasound is done and I’m dressed again, the nurse hands me my phone and a small sealed white envelope. Slipping it into my bag, I head to the reception desk to schedule my next appointment. Part of me expects to see Asa waiting there with a good reason for letting me down today.