Page 36 of Asher

Darn. She’d been a raging bitch to a man plagued by nightmares, enough that he needed a comfort dog. What did that say about her? That she was mean, quick to take offense, and quicker to judge. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t be nice to him. He’d rescued her. What more did she want from a guy?

Marlowe bowed her head. She was still going back to Afghanistan, somehow, but she needed to see Asher first. She needed to know he was okay. But mostly, she needed to apologize and give him the hug he deserved.

“Mama,” an angel-soft voice interrupted her internal conversation.

Marlowe glanced up as Bradley slapped his tiny hands on her knees to get her attention. He was leaning to one side, his head cocked.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she whispered, looking down into his gentle blue eyes.

“Up,” he ordered, smacking her knees again. “Me want up.”

Well, okay then. Smiling, because Kelsey’s kids weren’t shy, Marlowe scooped Bradley onto her lap. The little guy was a handful of little boy jeans, a yellow t-shirt with a bright, redElmoon his chest, and the tiniest black cowboy boots she’d ever seen. The scent of baby powder freshness slammed into her heart. Oh, damn. She closed her eyes. Babies were her greatest, hardest weakness. Children without parents didn’t stand a chance in Afghanistan. Husbandless women and fatherless children were fair game to the Taliban.

But now, there in Kelsey’s immaculate home, with her nose in this perfect little boy’s baby-fine hair, Marlowe found it easier to believe that life wasn’t always hard. It could be good. Even hers, as tough as it’d been. Parts of it had been good. Like when her mom was sober, and they’d scraped together enough loose change to go down to the local Dairy Queen and get root beer floats or vanilla ice cream cones. Those were good times. Notgood days or weeks or months maybe, but it was funny how one good time had made the hard days easier to bear.

While the women talked about who else was pregnant, someone named Tuesday, Marlowe blinked to keep her tears at bay. Tears were weakness, and she was not weak. But sitting there, in a clean house with kind people and this perfect little boy on her lap, she was incredibly happy. Like it or not, those tears were on the verge of falling, all because of the charming child leaning against her heart. Bradley was safe, and he’d have all the opportunities America offered to everyone, not just to the rich, powerful, and brutal. But to everyone. Even her. She’d been dirt poor all her life, but she’d still gone to school, and those schools had free breakfasts and lunches, and sometimes—

She shook her head at the contrast between her life and Bradley’s. He’d have it easier than she did. Kelsey and Alex would see to it because they were good parents, and that was why she kept blinking. A tiny part of her was jealous that she’d had to grow up fast and mean, pretty much motherless and fatherless, while Lexie and Bradley would never suffer one-tenth of what she’d lived through. Which was good for them. Dashing a quick hand over her eyes, Marlowe slammed the door on her stupid pity party. There wasn’t a thing she could do to change her past. Time didn’t work like that. There. End of that crappy story.

“Hey, darlin’,” a deep familiar voice said, as some guy—

Oh, Harley.Marlowe shrugged away when he settled beside her and stretched his arm along the sofa behind her. “I’m not your darling,” she reminded him curtly.

“Good luck with that, sweetheart,” Judy called from where she sat with Libby and Lexie. “He calls all us girls darling. He’s a big flirt.”

“Marlowe likes me, Judy, she just doesn’t know it yet.” Harley winked at his wife. Turning back, he asked, “Come outside with me? I’ve got something to show you.”

“I’m busy,” she replied haughtily. Couldn’t he see the precious boy in her arms? What made him think she’d trade Bradley for him? “Go away, you’re bothering me. Us. I mean us.” She drew Bradley tighter against her.

“Oh, girlfriend, you are so right for Asher.” Harley’s hazel eyes were bright with mischief. “But seriously, bring Bradley with you. It’ll just take a minute.”

“No,” Marlowe growled. Didn’t he know she could barely stand, much less walk without a darned walker that made her look like someone’s grandmother? Surely Judy told him. Marlowe wasn’t going anywhere. Not with Harley, not with herself, not with anyone. If she did, she'd have to use that walker and then, everyone would think she was helpless when she wasn’t. Temporarily incapacitated was not helpless, but it was embarrassing.

“Well, if you won’t go out with me…” Harley turned to Kelsey. “Mind if I let the dogs in, Kels?”

She laughed. “Do I ever say no to my boys joining us? Sure. Let them all in.”

“Brutus and Hercules, too?” Harley was already at the kitchen sliders. “You sure, darlin’?”

Okay, so maybe he does call every woman darlin’.

“Sure. The more, the merrier.”

Harley opened the door, whistled, and in seconds, a pack of wild dogs and puppies galloped in. Marlowe recognized Walter and Darling, but darn. There were now six, rambunctious, tail-whipping dogs and puppies in Kelsey’s house.

“Puppies,” Bradley squealed, clapping his hands as the biggest dog, the black German shepherd with a gray snout, headed toward Marlowe. She’d seen how ferocious military working dogs could be. She pulled Bradley back, protecting him. Instead of climbing over Bradley and her, the big dog sat at her feet with its head cocked, its tail beating the floor like a drum.

“Whipper,” Bradley cooed, leaning forward, his arms stretched too close to that big dog’s sharp, white teeth. My heck, he was a big thing.

Harley plopped down beside her again, but before Marlowe could tell him to beat it, he settled her adorable golden puppy on Bradley’s lap. “Surprise, Bradley. You’re the first to hold Marlowe’s new baby.”

“Awww, Darling.” Marlowe couldn’t believe she’d just squealed like a kid.

“Him, Whipper,” Bradley said, pointing at the black beast sitting patiently at his cowboy boots. “You, Darwing.” He meant the chubby puppy on his lap.

“This big boy is Whis-per,” Harley enunciated as he pulled the black dog between his knees and roughed up its ears. “He and that other big fellow over there” —he nodded to the silver dog on the couch, lying across Kelsey’s lap— “are EOD dogs that retired from service shortly after they deployed. Turned out they’re lovers, not fighters. A guy Alex knew left them to him when hedied. Cancer, I think. Alex didn’t much want a dog back then, but here they are. Plus his two new pups.”

Two adorable German Shepherd puppies. They were almost as cute as Darling and Walter. Both had long, fluffy hair and floppy ears.

---