Guitars and Choices
Layla Dorine
Encompass Ink
26 May 2017
MM/Contemporary/Novel
Asher Logan has been a lot of things: runaway, guitarist, cage fighter, cowboy, but the one thing he’s always avoided was being
a father to his young son. Now faced with returning to his families ranch, he’s forced to deal with the knowledge that the move would put him right down the road from Shawn. Still, it’s better than staying in the city, with drunken, bitter older brother Cole, whose anger and prejudices have made him difficult to be around.
Add in the fact that Asher’s new boyfriend, Conner, is eager to make the move with him, and there’s little argument that he can make against it. But returning home means facing demons, and the barn he’s avoided since the day his father caught him and his first love together in the hay. Speaking of his father, when the old man finds out Asher is back, he knows it will only be a matter of time before he demands Asher come to the prison to see him.
Moving means facing a buried past and truths long hidden, but staying in the city isn’t good for anyone, least of all Asher’s young nephew, Rory. It’s a hard road to face, filled with tough choices, and an old secret that just might provide more questions than answers.
Excerpt
“You worry too much,” Asher whispered to Conner, whose plate was piled high with a little bit of everything.
Conner chuckled. “When it comes to you, I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Asher grumbled as he popped the tab on his soda and took a long drink. The cold felt good on his parched throat.
Rory was dismantling his cheeseburger, so Asher reached over and put it back together.
“Come on, I like it that way,” Rory protested.
“And that’s fine at home, where we can chuck you in the shower after you’ve covered yourself in ketchup and pickle juice. Unless you wanna take a bath in the duck pond, you’ll keep it all together.”
“Fine.” Rory pouted until Alexia reached over and tousled his hair; then he was all flailing hands and squeals of protest as he tried to brush it back down.
Asher grinned. “Now you look like a porcupine.”
Scowling at his uncle, Rory gave up trying to fix his hair. His eyes lit up as they landed on the can of whipped cream sitting in a bowl of ice on the table. Before anyone could stop him, he’d snatched it up and sprayed Asher, leaving his face a sticky mess. Silence descended over the table for half a second, before everyone cracked up.
“Now you look like a, um….” Rory turned to Alexia. “What was that monkey we saw at the zoo?”
“Saki monkey,” Alexia told him, nearly falling out of her chair. “And you do, Asher, oh my God, I wish I had my sketchbook.”
A couple of subtle clicks told him that sketchbook or no, this moment would not be soon forgotten. Asher blinked and reached up to wipe his face, only to have Conner catch his hand and stop him.
Conner ran a finger through the sticky cream on Asher’s cheek, then sucked it from his finger. “You make a good dessert.”
Asher’s eyes widened and he felt his neck flush. Suddenly it was far too warm for a fall day and his jeans were feeling too tight.
Conner smiled and dipped a paper towel in a Dixie cup of water to wipe off the remaining mess.
“Now you’re helpful,” Asher muttered, but held still and let Conner finish cleaning him up. Not like he really wanted to move; he was waiting for his jeans to feel less restricting, shocked that such a simple act had affected him so much. Of course, it was hard for him to look at Conner at all without feeling some level of desire.
Conner dabbed Asher’s face one last time with the paper towel, then backed away and returned his camera to its bag. Asher sat there lost in thought for several moments before he turned his attention back to his plate. He thought he’d seen desire in Conner’s eyes, but he wasn’t sure. They hadn’t spoken about taking their friendship to another level since the night Conner had rescued him from Catfish. The only thing that had really changed was that they were spending more time together than they ever had before. Most nights Conner came to the bar after work, ate his dinner in the kitchen, and then helped Alexia fix platters of fried cheese curds and chicken wings. Sometimes he helped Asher or Morgan behind the bar, the two experienced men teaching him how to bartend. Asher had drawn the line at Conner helping to bounce; he didn’t want any drunk guys taking a swing at him.
Conner chuckled. “When it comes to you, I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Asher grumbled as he popped the tab on his soda and took a long drink. The cold felt good on his parched throat.
Rory was dismantling his cheeseburger, so Asher reached over and put it back together.
“Come on, I like it that way,” Rory protested.
“And that’s fine at home, where we can chuck you in the shower after you’ve covered yourself in ketchup and pickle juice. Unless you wanna take a bath in the duck pond, you’ll keep it all together.”
“Fine.” Rory pouted until Alexia reached over and tousled his hair; then he was all flailing hands and squeals of protest as he tried to brush it back down.
Asher grinned. “Now you look like a porcupine.”
Scowling at his uncle, Rory gave up trying to fix his hair. His eyes lit up as they landed on the can of whipped cream sitting in a bowl of ice on the table. Before anyone could stop him, he’d snatched it up and sprayed Asher, leaving his face a sticky mess. Silence descended over the table for half a second, before everyone cracked up.
“Now you look like a, um….” Rory turned to Alexia. “What was that monkey we saw at the zoo?”
“Saki monkey,” Alexia told him, nearly falling out of her chair. “And you do, Asher, oh my God, I wish I had my sketchbook.”
A couple of subtle clicks told him that sketchbook or no, this moment would not be soon forgotten. Asher blinked and reached up to wipe his face, only to have Conner catch his hand and stop him.
Conner ran a finger through the sticky cream on Asher’s cheek, then sucked it from his finger. “You make a good dessert.”
Asher’s eyes widened and he felt his neck flush. Suddenly it was far too warm for a fall day and his jeans were feeling too tight.
Conner smiled and dipped a paper towel in a Dixie cup of water to wipe off the remaining mess.
“Now you’re helpful,” Asher muttered, but held still and let Conner finish cleaning him up. Not like he really wanted to move; he was waiting for his jeans to feel less restricting, shocked that such a simple act had affected him so much. Of course, it was hard for him to look at Conner at all without feeling some level of desire.
Conner dabbed Asher’s face one last time with the paper towel, then backed away and returned his camera to its bag. Asher sat there lost in thought for several moments before he turned his attention back to his plate. He thought he’d seen desire in Conner’s eyes, but he wasn’t sure. They hadn’t spoken about taking their friendship to another level since the night Conner had rescued him from Catfish. The only thing that had really changed was that they were spending more time together than they ever had before. Most nights Conner came to the bar after work, ate his dinner in the kitchen, and then helped Alexia fix platters of fried cheese curds and chicken wings. Sometimes he helped Asher or Morgan behind the bar, the two experienced men teaching him how to bartend. Asher had drawn the line at Conner helping to bounce; he didn’t want any drunk guys taking a swing at him.
Asher Logan is a bartender and a pretty wicked guitar player, when he isn’t wrecking his hands fighting in a cage. With a past he keeps hoping to outrun, Asher’s been on a downward spiral for longer than he can remember. When his sister-in-law leaves Rory, his eight-year-old nephew, in his care, Asher is forced into two things he’s never been good at: sobriety and responsibility. As he struggles to care for Rory, his own life begins to unravel.
When Asher’s brother, Alex, turns up, presenting as a girl and announcing her new name is Alexia, it further complicates matters, as does the arrival of his new neighbor, Conner. Both, in their own way, compel Asher to look at his own closely-guarded views on sexuality.
When the siblings’ older brother, Cole, reacts violently to Alexia, Asher is placed squarely in the middle of a family conflict which compels him to confront who he pretends to be versus who he really is.
Asher must choose who to trust and who to finally walk away from.
Layla Dorine lives among the sprawling prairies of Midwestern America, in a house with more cats than people. She loves hiking, fishing, swimming, martial arts, camping out, photography, cooking, and dabbling with several artistic mediums. In addition, she loves to travel and visit museums, historic, and haunted places.
Layla got hooked on writing as a child, starting with poetry and then branching out, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Hard times, troubled times, the lives of her characters are never easy, but then what life is? The story is in the struggle, the journey, the triumphs and the falls. She writes about artists, musicians, loners, drifters, dreamers, hippies, bikers, truckers, hunters and all the other folks that she’s met and fallen in love with over the years. Sometimes she writes urban romance and sometimes its aliens crash landing near a roadside bar. When she isn’t writing, or wandering somewhere outdoors, she can often be found curled up with a good book and a kitty on her lap.
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