Page 33 of Tiny Precious Secrets (The Brothers of Calloway Creek The Montanas #4)

Allie

“Allie!” Asher yells behind me.

It’s not like I can run with two babies growing inside me. I’m down the street and around the corner, doing something between a shuffle and a fast waddle.

“Allie!”

I duck into a diner to evade him, but also because I feel like my legs might collapse out from under me. Not because of the exertion, but because I need to cry. And possibly throw up.

Moving swiftly into the ladies’ room, I plow into a stall, shut the toilet lid and plop down on it, my head slumping low until it meets my hands.

Should I even be surprised? Everything went at warp speed with us. As soon as he found out I was pregnant, he was uprooting his life and moving here. Across the country. Buying a house with me. I mean, one minute we were having a cross-country fling and the next we’re tied together forever.

Maybe the stress of Bug and me not getting along is finally getting to him. Or maybe Bug was right when she said Asher is just ‘doing the right thing.’

Could he be that good at faking his feelings for me? At putting on a smile and pretending what we have is everything he wants? Are all these unfamiliar hormones making me so gullible that I’ve gone so far as to buy a house and agree to a future with him?

I’m trying my hardest not to cry. I refuse to cry over another man who doesn’t want to be with me through less than perfect circumstances.

He never asked for this. And he certainly never asked for two of this.

My resolve crumbles and tears stream down my face and drip onto my blouse right over my baby bump.

“Miss?” a woman says from outside my stall.

I clear my throat and wipe my nose. “Are you talking to me?”

“There’s a guy outside who wanted me to check on you.”

I pinch my brow. “Please ask him to go away.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. But I need him to leave.”

I hear her feet shuffle. She’s hesitating. I think I even hear her talking to herself. But then the bathroom door closes.

“It isn’t what you think, sweetheart.”

My heart clenches inside my chest when I hear Asher’s voice.

“I think you just lost the right to call me that.”

“Will you come out so I can explain?”

I laugh pitifully. “Explain why you got a phone call and had to rush to the city. And oh, how convenient that you just had to stay overnight when you could have taken the train home and back again in the morning. Was there even a job, Asher? Or do you just like fucking chippies in the city? Is that your thing? Maybe you need a twelve-step program, because there’s something seriously wrong with you. ”

“Please come out.”

“No.”

I stare at his Cole Haan Oxfords as he enters the stall next to mine. Then suddenly, he’s on his back on the floor, scooting under the partition into my stall.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He rises up in front of me, unlocks the door, and says, “Do the adult thing and follow me out. We’ll get a cup of coffee and I’ll explain everything.”

“You had your hands on your ex-wife, Asher. That’s all the explanation I need.”

His head shakes in frustration. “Allie, what you saw was sympathy not infidelity. I promise you that’s all it was. She was having a bad day.”

“A bad day at the same hotel you were in? At the same bar. At the same time. That’s too many coincidences for it to be random.” Sobs begin again and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop it. “That’s our hotel, Asher. How could you?”

The door opens and someone walks in. “Is there a problem in here? I’m the manager. Do I need to call the police?”

Asher looks at me, his eyes begging me to follow him out.

“No,” I say. “No problem.”

“She was feeling lightheaded,” Asher says when I emerge.

The guy carrying a baseball bat can clearly see I’m pregnant. “Oh, well, go take the booth in the corner. I’ll bring you some juice and crackers.”

“And coffee,” Asher says. “Coffee would be nice.”

The manager studies Asher like he knows we’re lying, but he backs off anyway, holding the door for us so we can pass. “Right over there.” He points.

When I sit in the booth, Asher tries to slide in next to me. I hold up a hand. “No.”

Dejected, he takes the seat across from me as a waitress hurries over with the manager’s offerings. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Sure. Thanks,” I say, my gaze focused on the juice glass that I’ve no intention of touching.

“Stella’s father died.”

I huff. “And that excuses your deceit? I don’t care if the supreme ruler of the world died, you should have told me instead of lying so you could come comfort your ex.”

He runs a hand through his perfect hair.

He’s frustrated with me, but I couldn’t care less.

“Let me start over. Allie, I did come for work. We worked all day. Come with me to the hotel and I’ll beat down my boss’s door and he’ll confirm it.

We had a late dinner. On the way back to my room, I spotted Stella at the hotel bar.

It was only natural to ask why she was there.

I wasn’t going to stay. I wasn’t even going to sit.

But then I saw how sad she was, and when she told me her father died and her husband’s plane hadn’t landed yet, I figured that no matter how I felt about her, she probably needed a friend in that moment. ”

I shove two crackers in my mouth as I contemplate his words. Then I wash them down because my mouth is too dry to speak. “Her… husband?”

“Yes, sweetheart, her husband.” He reaches across the table and puts his hands on mine. “I promise you it was a random meeting. She’s in town for her dad’s funeral.”

I sniff, now feeling humiliated that I thought the worst of the man who has only ever treated me with love, kindness, and respect. A man who cares so much for people in general, he would sit with someone who treated him so badly simply because she needed someone to care.

“She’s… very pretty.”

A smile cracks his face. “Baby, she doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

He gets up and sits back down on my side of the booth. This time I let him. His arm comes around me and he tugs me to him.

“I love you, Allie,” he whispers into my hair. “My heart, body, and soul belong to you. Nothing in the world could change that. Not ex-wives, difficult teenagers, surprise twin pregnancies, or whatever else might get thrown our way.”

I wallow in embarrassment. “I’m so stupid. I thought I’d come and surprise you. Maybe relive a few moments at our old stomping ground.” I look up and catch his eyes with mine. “Are you sure nothing would have happened if I hadn’t shown up?”

His smile grows into a full-on chuckle. “I’ve never seen this side of you, you know. As long as I’ve known you, you’ve never been the jealous type. It’s kind of hot.” He smirks. “Makes me think you sort of like me a whole lot.”

I stab his ribs with my elbow. “No need to rub it in. I am a hormonal pregnant lady. Times two.”

He stands and throws a ten-dollar bill on the table. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take my hormonal pregnant lady back to the hotel and do unspeakable things with her.” He leans close. “Times two.”

My heart, that was squeezed like a vice just a few minutes ago, is suddenly pounding with anticipation.

“As long as you promise never to speak of this again.”

A finger glides from side to side over his chest. “Cross my heart.” He holds out his hand.

I slip my hand into his. It’s large and warm and feels like home. How could I ever think he’d do something like that to me?

I’m still scolding myself over my stupidity when we walk back inside the hotel. William smiles from ear to ear when he opens the door for us. “Miss Montana. Mr. Anderson.”

Asher turns back to him. “The next time you see us here, it’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Anderson.”

William’s eyebrows shoot up, and he looks upon us proudly, as if he somehow played a part in us getting together. “Great to hear it. Congratulations on your engagement.”

“You’re engaged?” I hear from behind.

When I turn, I see Asher’s ex staring at my stomach.

“No,” I say, at the same moment Asher says, “Yes.”

I shake my head. “It’s complicated.”

“How… how f-far along are you?” she stutters.

“Nineteen weeks.”

“You’re really showing for nineteen weeks.”

“It’s, uh… twins.”

My declaration visibly hurts her, and she bends over slightly as if I’d punched her in the gut.

Part of me expects Asher to rush to her side and comfort her again.

He doesn’t. He simply squeezes my hand. I feel sorry for her, I do, but she doesn’t own the rights to grief and heartache.

Some of us have just as much of a right to all those things.

Asher knows it too, which is why I think he stands by me.

We may seem like this happy family now, but nobody can really know what’s under the surface.

“I suppose I should give you my congratulations,” she says dryly.

“Stella,” Asher says. “I feel bad for you, I do. I’m sorry your dad died, and I know what seeing this must do to you. But honestly, the day you walked out of my life is the day I stopped being responsible for your feelings. I wish you the best in whatever you decide to do. Goodbye, Stella.”

And with that, Asher pulls me toward the elevator, not once looking back.