Fighting for Us: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 2)

by Claire Kingsley

  He laughed. “That’s not what I had in mind. What about you? Are you free tonight?”

  Wow, he was bold. “I’m actually not available any night.” I held up my left hand and wiggled my ring finger.

  “Ah. Got it. Sorry, I didn’t see that.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He nodded again and stood. “I should stop bothering you and let you get back to your tea. Enjoy your evening.”

  “Thanks. Have a nice visit.”

  “I will.”

  I watched him leave. He’d left his mostly-full coffee sitting on the table.

  Something about that had been strange. Not the fact that he’d struck up a conversation with me, nor that he’d asked me out for a drink. Despite the ring on my finger, I was approached by men occasionally. I couldn’t quite place why, but my instincts were telling me something was off.

  Gram—and my mom, for that matter—had always said to trust my instincts. And at the very least, I didn’t want to leave the shop alone in the dark. He probably wasn’t out there waiting for me. But I also knew all too well that the unthinkable could happen.

  I really wanted to call Asher.

  Maybe that wasn’t a good idea. Our relationship was… complicated. Did I really need to ask him to come down here? I could wait for Alexa to finish up and we could walk out to our cars together.

  But my fingers twitched with the urge to text him. I was anxious and uncomfortable, and maybe it was all in my head.

  I texted him anyway.

  19

  Grace

  Not five minutes later, Asher’s truck rumbled outside. I let out a relieved breath, feeling better already.

  I stood and gathered my things. “Are you good to go tonight, Alexa?”

  “Yep, I’m just about done and my boyfriend is parked out back.”

  That was a relief. I didn’t want her to be alone. “Great. I’ll see you later.”

  “Thanks, Grace.”

  I went outside to meet Asher and locked the shop door behind me. He got out of the truck and our eyes met. I bit my lip against the rush of heat in my veins. God, look at him. I wanted to climb him like a tree.

  Calm down, Grace.

  “Hey, thanks for coming.”

  He glanced up and down the street. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s probably nothing. Something a little weird happened. I don’t know why, but it felt like I should tell you.”

  “What happened?”

  He had a groove between his eyebrows that did terrible things to my insides. It reminded me of what he used to look like when he was inside me. I could practically hear him groaning in my ear.

  “What? Oh.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. God, I was making myself all flustered. “Sorry. A guy came in a little bit ago. I was at a table inside and he sat at the one next to me. He struck up a conversation and—I can’t really explain it, but something felt off. I probably didn’t need to call you, but I felt weird leaving the shop alone.”

  “I’m glad you did. What did he say?”

  “Not anything unusual. He asked if I was from around here and wanted to know what there was to do. He asked if I’d get a drink with him, but obviously I told him no.”

  Asher’s eye twitched. “Was he pushy about it?”

  “No. That’s the thing, he was fine. He wasn’t rude or anything. Maybe a little aggressive, but not in a bad way. Once I said no, he apologized and left.”

  The furrow in Asher’s brow deepened and he clenched and unclenched his fists. He kept glancing up and down the street while I talked, and I wondered what had him so distracted.

  “But something about it bothered you.”

  “Yeah. I can’t explain it, but little things felt off. Like he said he worked for his family business, but he didn’t say what that was. He was dressed almost like he had a corporate job, but he was covered in tattoos. I’m talking down his arms, over the backs of his hands. All the way up his neck. I’m probably a jerk for letting that make me nervous, but his appearance was intimidating.”

  Asher’s gaze snapped to my face and his body stilled. “What kind of tattoos?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t look at them long enough to really make out what they were. He had a lot.”

  “Did he tell you his name?”

  “You know, he didn’t. Maybe that’s why it was weird. He asked me to go get a drink with him, but he hadn’t given me his name, or asked for mine.”

  “So he doesn’t know who you are.”

  “No.”

  “Did he say why he’s in town?”

  “Yeah, he said he was visiting an old friend. Or maybe he said looking up an old friend. It was something like that.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered, then leaned closer. “Grace, I need you to try to remember. What kind of tattoos did he have?”

  The edge in his voice made my stomach flip with sudden anxiety. “I don’t know what the designs looked like.”

  “What color?”

  “Mostly black, I think? I don’t know, why does that matter?”

  “What about red? Was there a lot of red?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “What did he look like?”

  I tucked my hair again and shifted the stack of paperwork I’d grabbed from my desk. “Short hair. Blond, maybe? He was very striking. Different-looking, but that might have been all the ink.”

  He didn’t look away, his eyes holding mine captive. The intensity in his expression made my heart beat harder.

  “Asher, you’re kind of freaking me out right now. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie to me. Do you think you know who he is?”

  “Maybe.”

  I hesitated for a moment, wondering what was going on in that head of his. The tension in his body was almost palpable, but it was the wildness in his eyes that made me nervous. He seemed so agitated, like the slightest provocation would make him snap.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have told him.

  “Do you think he’s someone from prison?”

  “I hope not. But if he is, I don’t want him anywhere near you.” He grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Home. Or maybe Gram’s. You’ll be safe there. Where’s your car?”

  “I parked in back.”

  He tugged me toward his truck. “We’ll come back for it later.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I need to get you off the street.”

  “Asher—”

  He didn’t give me a chance to argue. Looking up and down the street again, he opened his truck door and pushed me inside.

  I decided to cooperate. Although I didn’t understand why, this had rattled him. Either there was a lot he wasn’t telling me, and he had reason to believe I could be in danger, or he was seriously paranoid.

  I wasn’t sure which was worse.

  He got in and checked our surroundings again. The veins in his forearms stood out as he held the steering wheel in a tight grip. He didn’t say anything, just drove down the street, checking the rear-view mirror constantly.

  “Take me home, okay?” I asked. “Not to Gram’s. It’s getting late and she goes to bed early.”

  His jaw hitched, but he nodded.

  We got home and he parked in the driveway, then came around to the passenger side and took my hand. He was hyperalert, his gaze darting all around, as if he expected someone to jump out of the bushes.

  I fished my keys out of my purse and unlocked the door, but he held out his arm to block the way.

  “Let me go in first. Wait here.”

  He left me outside, gaping at his back. He needed to search my house? What did he think he was going to find in there?

  “Asher, I don’t think the tattooed guy is waiting for me inside. He doesn’t know who I am.”

  No answer.

  So much for trusting my instincts. I was starting to regret having told him anything. />
  When he reappeared, he didn’t look any less frantic. I came in and he shut the door behind me, locking it quickly. Then he closed the curtains on the front window.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “Are you going to barricade the door, too?”

  “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

  “From what? What aren’t you telling me?”

  He moved to stand in front of me, his dark eyes meeting mine. “There are just some people out there I don’t trust. And if one of them is here…”

  I shifted closer, my body aching with the desire to hold him. To comfort him. But I wasn’t sure if he’d let me.

  “Just let me find out if there’s a problem,” he continued. “Stay here tonight, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I know you think I’m crazy.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy, I just wonder if you’re overreacting.”

  The hardness in his expression fell away, as if the tight grip he kept on himself faltered. His eyes pleaded with me. “Grace, please.”

  A rush of emotion tightened my throat and I nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay here.”

  He let out a breath. “Thank you.”

  I couldn’t resist him anymore. Whether he wanted it or not, I was hugging him. I stepped into his space, wrapped my arms around him, and closed my eyes.

  Please, Asher. Just let me do this. Let me hold you for a moment.

  For a second, he didn’t move.

  Neither did I.

  Then he folded his arms around me. Unlike the last hug we’d shared, he didn’t immediately pull away. He tucked me in closer, his arms tightening. Turned his face into my neck and took a deep breath.

  His heart was pounding in his chest and his skin was covered with a sheen of sweat. He was so tense, he was almost shaking.

  God, he wasn’t just worried. He was terrified.

  I gently rubbed the back of his neck, wishing desperately that this didn’t have to be so hard. That he would let me in. Let me help him.

  He took another deep breath, then slowly let go. Reluctantly, I dropped my arms and stepped back. My body buzzed from the contact and my heart ached at the turmoil raging in his eyes.

  “I won’t go anywhere,” I said softly. “I’ll stay right here. Promise.”

  He nodded. “Good. I have to go. Keep the doors locked.”

  “Okay.”

  With one last long look, he left. Through the peephole in the door, I saw him pause outside. He didn’t leave until he heard me latch the deadbolt.

  Letting out a slow breath, I went into the living room and collapsed onto the couch.

  What had just happened?

  The unsettled feeling was back, but it wasn’t because of the tattooed stranger. Asher had been telling me since he’d come home that prison had messed him up. But until now, I hadn’t really believed him. I’d known he would have to adjust to life here again, and that could be bumpy. And I was certainly aware that he was different in many ways.

  But maybe he was right. Maybe prison had fucked him up, more than I’d wanted to admit.

  20

  Asher

  It was killing me to leave Grace alone. I fought the urge to turn around and go back to her house. But I had to find out who’d been in her shop tonight. A knot of fear sat in the pit of my stomach, like a smoldering rock. If I’d put her in danger…

  I couldn’t let anything happen to her. Not again.

  But I couldn’t stay, either. I didn’t trust myself.

  The moment her arms had gone around me, I’d nearly collapsed. I could still feel her. The warmth of her body in my arms, every inch pressing against me. For that brief moment, I’d almost felt calm, as if her soothing touch could chase away all my demons.

  She’d felt so fucking good.

  But I had to protect her, even if that meant protecting her from me.

  I couldn’t stop checking the rear-view mirror as I drove into town. My thoughts were a whirlwind and my heart raced. Who was out there? Was it someone with a score to settle? Would he try to get to me through Grace? Had he known who she was?

  Going to Jack Cordero crossed my mind. Grace’s stepdad was a cop. Maybe he could help.

  Except what was I going to say? That I thought I was being watched, and a guy with tattoos had talked to Grace? I wasn’t totally irrational. I knew that was too vague, and the guy hadn’t done anything wrong.

  But it wasn’t what Grace had said that had me fighting to keep control of myself. It was how she’d said it. Something about him had triggered her instincts—had been enough to make her tell me about it. I didn’t know if I could trust myself, but I trusted her. If she thought something was off about the guy, I trusted that she was right.

  And even though it was a leap to assume he had anything to do with me, in my fevered brain, that leap wasn’t very far. It was possible. I’d known it was possible since the day I’d come home. I just hadn’t thought it would come so soon.

  Fuck.

  I wasn’t sure what to do, so I went to the only place I could think to go. My brothers’ house.

  Logan, Levi, and Gavin shared a place not far from the firehouse. It was a ranch-style with a big garage. I parked on the street and went to the front door, hoping at least one of them was home.

  Levi answered, dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, and his eyebrows drew together. “Asher?”

  I pushed past him and went inside, my body too jittery to keep still. “I have a problem.”

  He shut the door behind me, and Logan looked over from the couch in front of an enormous TV mounted to the wall. The coffee table was littered with wrappers, beer bottles, and soda cans, and there was a laundry basket in the corner piled high with clothes.

  Logan paused his video game. “Hey, Ash. I was just owning Levi in the face. Wanna play?”

  “No.”

  He scowled. “Fine, you don’t have to be a dick about it.”

  “I’m not being a dick. I said I have a problem.”

  “Yes, Grace is too good for you, but you should still totally hit that.”

  The knot of fear exploded into anger. “Don’t fucking talk about her.”

  “Jesus,” Logan said. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  I took a breath, trying to calm down. Levi still stood near the door, watching me with his arms crossed.

  Gavin appeared in the hallway, buck naked, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. “Hey, Ash.”

  “Dude,” Logan said. “We’ve talked about this. Put some fucking clothes on.”

  “That’s what I’m doing.” He walked over to the laundry pile and bent over to sort through it.

  Logan let out a disgusted groan and held his arm up over his face. “God. Seriously. What the fuck. No one wants to see that.”

  Levi pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

  “It’s not my fault you guys are in my room,” Gavin said, still digging through the clothes.

  “This isn’t your room,” Levi said. “You don’t live here.”

  I glanced at Levi, then Logan, trying to avoid looking at my little brother’s bare ass. “I thought he did live here.”

  Logan still shielded his eyes with his forearm. “It’s only a two-bedroom, so he sleeps on the couch.”

  “We told him he could crash here once and he never left,” Levi grumbled.

  “I pay my share of the bills.” Gavin thankfully pulled on a pair of boxer briefs. Scrubbing the towel over his head again, he grinned at me. “What’s up, bro?”

  Logan tossed the game controller onto the cluttered coffee table and leaned back, stretching his arm over the back of the couch. He was only half-dressed himself, in a t-shirt and boxer briefs, his white socks pulled up to his shins. “Sit, man, make yourself at home.”

  The couch looked questionable, so I went to the armchair.

  “Whoa,” Gavin said, holding up a hand. “Hang on, don’t sit down yet.”

  I stopped with my le
gs bent. “Why?”

  He winced. “I might have poked some thumbtacks through the seat so when one of these dorks sat down, they’d get stuck in the ass. But I have a feeling you won’t find that funny and you’ll probably hurt me, so let me make sure they’re all gone.”

  Levi scowled at him. “I saw them earlier, dumbass. I would have put them in your bed, but you don’t have one because you don’t live here.”

  Gavin ran his hand across the seat, ignoring Levi.

  “I’ll grab another chair.”

  Their dining area had a surprisingly nice wooden table—beautiful compared to the rest of their furniture—with four matching chairs. I dragged one over to the living room and sat. Gavin flopped into the armchair sideways, but Levi remained standing.

  “Lay it on us, bronoculars,” Logan said. “What’s going on?”

  “A guy showed up at Grace’s coffee shop tonight and he gave her a weird vibe. I think I might know who he is. And if I’m right, it’s not good.”

  “Who is he?”

  “A guy who was in my cell block for a while. He’s known as Reaper.”

  “Reaper?” Logan asked. “That sounds like a gang nickname or some shit. Why would a guy like that be out here?”

  “Holy shit,” Gavin said. “Did you make prison enemies? Were there gang members?”

  I shot him a glare. “Where the fuck do you think I was? White-collar prison with a bunch of guys in for tax evasion? Yeah there were gang members. And drug dealers, and guys doing time for assault, armed robbery, murder. Yeah, I made enemies. I got in there and I was just some fucking kid. Word got around what I was in for, and everyone wanted to test me. See if I was really tough enough to kill a guy with my bare hands, or if it was just adrenaline.”

  “Jesus, Asher,” Levi said under his breath.

  “I didn’t go in there looking for a fight, but it’s kind of hard to avoid when half of them want to fuck with you. A couple guys who have ample reason to hate me are out. So I’ve got that hanging over my head for the rest of my life.”

  Logan sat forward on the couch, his forearms resting on his knees. “So this Reaper guy has it in for you and you think he’s here.”