In a Rush

Chapter 31

chapter thirty-one

Ryan

Today’s Learning Objective:

Students will fly a little too close to the sun.

“To kick off your birthday weekend,” I said, leading Emme onto the plane, “I have a few surprises.”

“Is it a soft pillow to sit on? Because I’m still recovering from all the surprises you gave me this morning,” she said with a wry laugh.

We’d been a little rowdy. Mostly me, but Emme was no angel. It was just so damn good to wake up with her knowing we had a stretch of time to ourselves that I couldn’t help myself.

I motioned to my usual seat. “You don’t need a pillow when you can sit on me. Even better”—I held up the oversized blanket draped over the seat back—“I’ll keep you cozy. Or we can do whatever you want under the blanket. Your birthday, your choice.”

She dropped her bag to the seat across the aisle from mine and shot me an indulgent grin. “Good to know.”

I grabbed the gleaming silver bowl and held it out. “We also have thirty oranges.”

Her gaze landed on the red box perched atop the mound of fruit. “What is this?”

“Open it up and find out,” I said.

She aimed a wary glance at me, like she couldn’t figure out why I’d have a birthday gift for her. She’d need to get used to it real fast because the entire weekend was going to be a birthday blowout. I had a full day of spa treatments and massages scheduled. Reservations at the most exclusive restaurants in Vegas. Tickets to every show I could imagine her wanting to see. An adventure day where she could choose from a helicopter tour to the bottom of the Grand Canyon or an off-road dune buggy race through the hills and valleys beyond the Strip. And that was on top of staying in one of the best penthouses in the entire city.

There was a bit of time carved out for a sports industry awards event on Saturday night and I’d promised we’d meet up with a bunch of guys from my team too, but everything else belonged to us. Even better—by this time tomorrow, news of our secret wedding would land.

The last surprise, the one I was saving for her birthday on Sunday, was a trip to the Seychelles. A proper honeymoon right after Grace’s wedding and before the start of training camp.

After a moment of hesitation, she pried the box open. Her eyes went wide and she clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh my god,” she whispered.

I considered that proof of a job well done.

“When I saw it,” I started, “it reminded me of your tangerines.”

“Well, they’re basically the same size,” she cried.

I set the bowl down and plucked the necklace from the box to put it on her. “I know it’s not orange, so it’s not exactly the same as a tangerine, but I liked the plump, oval shape of the diamond.” I swept her hair over her shoulder while the flight crew closed the aircraft doors. “And the marquise-cut diamonds sitting on top too. Made me think of an orange blossom’s leaves.” I slipped the chain around her neck, adding, “You can wear it up here”—I held the closure at the shortest point, the pendant sitting at the base of her throat, and then let it slip to the rise of her breasts—“or down here.”

She turned around when I clasped the necklace, her hand over the pendant. “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around me and tucked her head under my chin. We fit together like puzzle pieces, and even if we did this for the next thousand years, I didn’t think I’d ever find something so right. “It’s…incredible.”

“Mr. Ralston? If you’re ready, we’ll be taking off shortly,” the pilot called from the cockpit.

“Are you ready for your birthday weekend to commence, Mrs. Ralston?” I asked.

“I think I am.” She glanced up at me, laughing. “Let’s do this.”

I watched while Emme ate six tangerines, one after the other without stopping. There was something hypnotic about the way she unraveled the rind and pulled at the pith. It brought me back to the earliest days of our friendship and how I’d ply her with tangerines just for the pleasure of sitting by while she took them apart. I remembered staring at her fingers and feeling a prickle on the back of my neck, and riding that high all day.

“Have you told anyone?” she asked between orange segments.

I stared as she sucked a bit of sweetness from her thumb. We could not get under that blanket fast enough. “Told anyone what?”

“About the news we’re dropping tomorrow.”

“Who would I tell?” I asked, still locked in this trance. “Jakobi was there. As far as the guys are concerned, we’ve been married for months. Ines and your friends already know.”

“Hmm. Let me think.” She licked the rest of her fingers and I might’ve groaned out loud. “Oh, yeah. What about your mother , Ryan? Your sisters? Gramma CeCe? Don’t you think they’d like to know?”

A deep, barking laugh burst out of me. “Oh, you have no idea.”

“Dare I ask what that means?”

She went for another tangerine and I almost took the bowl away from her, but I knew she’d fight me for it. Some people could drink ten cups of coffee in a day and sleep straight through the night. Emme could eat a bushel of oranges without making herself sick. It was some kind of witchcraft.

“It means my entire family has been gagging over how much they adore you for months.” I held up my phone. “I had to stop following the group chat when they started debating when we’d give my mother a grandchild. Gramma CeCe thinks the horse is out of the stable, as she put it.”

Her cheeks stuffed with citrus, she pointed at her midsection. “I look pregnant?”

“No, Muggsy.” I laughed as I ran a hand over my face. “They came across a photo from some event and decided that was the outcome I wanted based on the look I was giving you.”

“Is it? The outcome that you want?”

My chest tightened. We hadn’t talked any real specifics about the future. The conversation after field day was too much of an Emme fuck-around to count as tangible plans. All I knew at this moment was that we weren’t running up to a deadline anymore. It shouldn’t have blindsided me but her question took me to the ground. I was desperate to hold on to her as long as I could. Any little piece I could get, I’d keep.

“If you do, yeah,” I said. Giving her the answer she wanted was the only goal. “But I need some time with you first. A few years just for us.”

She nodded slowly. “I think about it a lot because I know getting pregnant probably won’t be easy for me, but I also know I’m nowhere near ready. I’m barely a functional adult.” She pointed toward me with an orange segment. “I like what you said about a few years for us. Tell Gramma CeCe we’re not in a hurry. The stable is locked and the horses are secure.”

Pressure gathered behind my breastbone. I had to work hard at swallowing down a rock of emotion. “Okay,” I said, almost to myself. I had to replay her words a few times because there was no way she’d just decided to wait a couple of years to have kids with me. With me . That we’d be together in a couple of years. Me and Emme. No way. “Okay.”

“You should call them,” she said. “Tell them the news.”

“They’re obsessed with you. They can’t wait for me to bring you home.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“Because I don’t get enough of you as it is. As I’ve previously stated, I don’t want to share.”

“That’s not the reason.” She gave me a knowing glance before going back to her tangerine.

“It is the reason. My schedule has been packed all fucking spring and I’m lucky if I get three consecutive nights with you a week. Even when I do, we have to go to Nantucket and bridal showers and whatever the fuck else.”

“Okay. I’ll give you that. But you don’t like going home and it has nothing to do with me.”

“I don’t,” I admitted. Emme motioned for me to expand on that. I heaved out a sigh. “Nothing in that house has changed in fifteen years. It’s like going back in time and I hate it.”

She nodded as if she understood, and I knew she did. She’d been there for me through the worst of it.

“I think—no, I know my mother likes it that way,” I said. “There’s a comfort in keeping things the same. Her memories are baked into it—but that’s the problem. Those memories kill me. They’re suffocating.” I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. “Everyone else loves it there. They love stepping inside the memories.” I shook my head as the sounds of breathing and heart rate monitors rang through my mind. All these years later, the first thing I still noticed when I went home was the silence. The machines weren’t beeping and the oxygen compressor wasn’t whirring and I was hit with the truth all over again that he was gone. “I’m the only one who suffocates.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s wrong. There’s no right way to experience grief.” Emme set aside her tangerines and crossed the aisle to climb into my lap. “Would it help if I was there with you?”

“Maybe. Yeah.” I wrapped my arms around her waist and let myself relax. “You really think we should tell them today?”

“Let me put it this way,” she said. “If you don’t come around to the idea on your own, I’m going back to my seat and staying there for the rest of the flight.”

I kissed her forehead. “You’re vicious.”

After some debate, we settled on dropping one of the photos Ines took during the ceremony in the family chat with our announcement, a note about a big wedding to come next spring or early summer, and a promise to visit soon. I didn’t specify a location for that visit.

“Prepare yourself,” I murmured as I sent the message.

Emme curled into me, her eyes on the screen. The responses started pouring in immediately.

Claudia: IT’S HAPPENING

Claudia: and it didn’t even require some light breaking and entering

Chloe: holy shit what

Mom: 10 sobbing emojis

Amber: tell her we feel like she’s already part of our family and we love her so much!

Gramma CeCe: Congratulations, my boy. We’re so happy for you both. Give that sweet girl our love.

Claudia: is it too soon to ask if I’m going to be a bridesmaid?

Ruthie: yes

Mom: 10 bride and groom emojis

Ruthie: but I’d also like to know about bridesmaids

Ruthie: if it helps, I’m very good at organizing and haggling

Amber: really we hadn’t noticed

Gramma CeCe: girls, we should let the newlyweds be. They don’t need to worry themselves with all of these questions. Not when there are more important things for them right now. Remember to give yourselves plenty of time in the bedroom.

Mom: 10 heart-eyes emojis

Claudia: This is your one and only warning, Gram

Gramma CeCe: I’m only encouraging them to explore

Gramma CeCe: Between the sheets, that is.

Chloe: we knew what you meant, Gram

Mom: 10 more sobbing emojis

Mom: When can we see you two? How about Sunday? I’ll cook your favorites!

I glanced at Emme, trying to read her reaction to my family’s outpouring of love and chaos. “What do you think?”

“We’re not back until Monday,” she said. “Later in the week is blocked for Grace, but maybe Tuesday? We don’t have to go to your mom’s house if it’s too much for you. We can meet them somewhere or invite them to our place. Whatever you want.”

I stared at her for a long moment as a smile pulled at my lips. I couldn’t grab hold of all these emotions to figure out what they were, but I knew I’d never felt so many good things at once. “Tuesday, then.”

Ryan: We’re in Vegas this weekend for Em’s birthday. How about Tuesday?

Mom: another 10 sobbing emojis

Mom: I can’t wait!

I put my phone down and turned to Emme. I tapped my finger to her lips, saying, “I hope you know what you’ve done.”

She beamed at me. I could smell the citrus on her. “We’ll find out on Tuesday.”

I shook the blanket out and tucked it tight around us. “Let’s not talk about my family anymore. We have this wonderful blanket to enjoy however we want.”

Her whole body shook as she laughed and I nearly blacked out from the bliss of it. At this point, it didn’t take much to turn me on. The mere mention of my wife was enough. But having her warm and soft against me while we put one official stamp after another on this relationship? I was fucking done.

“What is it with you and enjoying the blanket ?” she asked.

“I seem to remember us having a very good time under a blanket,” I said. “I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t give it another spin. I have a change of clothes in my backpack too.”

Still laughing, she pressed a hand to her eyes, but I grabbed it away and sucked the lingering sweetness from her fingertips.

“I barely touched you that time,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s what made it so incredible. It was completely out of my control.”

She shook her head against my chest. “I’m not sure I believe that.”

“You’re forgetting that the way you feel and the sounds you make when you’re aroused get me at least eighty percent of the way there. Throw in a little friction and I’m done.”

“Hmm.” She ran her fingers down the center of my torso, stopping at my belt. Her hand settled over my shaft and I jolted up to meet her. “Let’s see if that math checks out.”

“Does it feel different?” I asked, my lips on the back of Emme’s neck and my hand splayed across her belly as I moved in her from behind. “Now that the world knows we’re married?”

She groaned something into the pillow as morning sunlight streamed into the room and I kept up our slow, lazy rhythm. I loved this. I loved waking up beside her, loved pulling her sleepy body into mine, loved her soft hands reaching for me, asking for me without saying a word.

I loved that she was mine in all the ways I’d ever wanted her to belong to me—and now that the handful of photos Ines snapped at our secret wedding were splashed all over the internet, everyone else knew it too.

“That’s what I thought,” I replied, thrusting deep and holding myself there as her inner walls pulsed around me. I dug my fingertips into the round flare of her hip as a blast of heat shot down my spine. My entire body drew tight before a growl snapped out of me and I lashed my arms around her torso. “I fucking love you.”

I felt her head bob against my chest. “Mmm.”

She was breathing hard when I rolled her to her side and held her close. I knew she’d scamper away in a second to use the bathroom like she always did and I just wanted to soak up as much of this as I could. I wanted to remember this morning. I wanted to remember all of our mornings but it felt like the energy around us was shifting. It was heavy, but I had to think it was positive. Things were happening. It was real now. Even more than it’d always been.

I leaned to the other side of the bed and grabbed the small box I’d hidden there last night. The plan had been to wake Emme up with this gift, but I wasn’t mad about this turn of events.

“Since we’re getting married twice,” I said, taking her hand, “I decided you need two rings.” I slipped the halo-shaped diamond bands on either side of her engagement ring. “Perfect.”

Still bleary-eyed and breathless, she twisted in my hold and pressed her lips to mine. “I love them.”

“Good, because I want to be married to you,” I said. “I want us. Together. For as long as you’ll have me. If there are kids or pets or…Ines, it doesn’t matter. You’re all I need.”

She studied me for a long moment and I’d never heard seconds tick by so slowly. But then she said, “I picked out something for you too. Stay right here.”

I folded my arms behind my head as she strolled away wearing nothing but the diamonds I’d put on her. There was no finer sight.

When she returned a few minutes later with a small box in hand, she climbed on top of me, her thighs bracketing my hips and the heat between her legs almost exactly where I needed it. A few quick moves and we could see how well she carried this conversation while I was buried inside her.

“Not yet,” she said, wagging a finger at me. “I know what that face means.”

“What face?”

“The I’m thinking about fucking you face. Stop it. I’m doing something and you’re not going to interfere.”

“Muggsy, you can do anything you want to me and I’ll sit here, happy as a fuckin’ clam.” I cupped her breasts, my thumbs sweeping over her nipples. I needed to spend more time with those beauties. “But you should know I’m never not thinking about fucking you.”

Laughing, she held up the box. I grabbed for it and she responded by shooting me a withering glare and holding it over her head. Adorable. As if I couldn’t reach that. “Let me do this.”

I motioned for her to continue. “Go right ahead, my love.”

She inhaled like she needed a breath to steady herself and drummed her fingertips on my chest. “I know you can’t wear this on the field or when you’re working out, and that’s pretty much all the time, but I liked it and thought you would too. Seemed like your style.” She opened the box to reveal a platinum band with a simple milgrain detail around the edges. She snared her bottom lip between her teeth and put it on my finger. “I won’t be upset if you don’t wear it.”

“Enough of that.” It could’ve been actual barbed wire and I would’ve treasured it. “Of course I’m going to wear it.”

“It’s okay if you don’t.” Tracing a finger over the ink on my shoulders, she said, “I was thinking you might want something a little more permanent.”

It took everything inside me to keep from laughing.

If she only knew how permanent she’d always been to me.

But I’d explain it all later. That story was a series of confessions, and though I’d imagined telling her so many times, I still didn’t know where to start.

I’d get it right soon enough. On our honeymoon, maybe. I’d have plenty of time to unravel our history and how I’d fallen in love with her over the years. How I’d waited and how I’d wanted her, and how everything in my life seemed to propel me toward her now—when it was time to make good on our pact.

I swallowed down those emotions, that tension. The lurking panic that it would change things for us. “What did you have in mind, wife?”

“I don’t know,” she mused, her fingers still stroking my skin. “Something that fits with your other pieces.”

She had no idea how well it would fit. “I’m sure it will.”

Smiling, she asked, “Will you tell me what we’re doing today? Or is that another one of your secrets?”

“We’re doing many things today.”

“No hints?” I shook my head. “How will I know what to wear?”

I straightened the pendant on her chest. “I’ll take care of that for you.”

“What if I had plans for the day? Have you considered that?”

“I don’t think you’d believe how thoroughly I’ve considered that.” I pushed up to brush my lips over hers. “You can decide if we’re trying out the shower this morning or the bathtub.”

She glowered at me for a second, but I ran my palm up her torso, the cool metal of my wedding band leaving a trail of goose bumps as I went. “Shower,” she said. “There’s a bench and a bunch of showerheads.”

I gathered her close and swung my legs over the bed. “Fuck yes, let’s go.”

We flew to the bottom of the Grand Canyon for a picnic lunch, soaked in volcanic mud imported from Colombia before being massaged to a pulp, and then alternated between floating in a private pool and napping on a king-sized lounge chair. It was heaven. I never wanted to leave.

Since everyone was in town for tomorrow night’s awards event and Hersberler had finally signed his contract, we reserved the back room at one of the best steakhouses in town to celebrate. Everyone was there, just about the whole team plus a bunch of significant others. The O-line was in a phenomenal mood, everyone busting Hersberler’s balls over him milking free agency for all it was worth and fawning over Emme like they always did.

It turned into the kind of night that reminded me of all the things I loved about this game—the tenacious optimism that roared to life in the preseason, the bone-deep trust that grew from sweating and bleeding together week after week, the sense of family—of brotherhood—that propelled us to keep fighting for every inch of turf.

We told stories that prompted us to confirm on multiple occasions that no one had a phone out and was recording anything. We ate like we wouldn’t be back on egg whites and kale protein smoothies by the start of training camp. We ordered bottles of wine and whiskey and bourbon that cost more than most used cars, and we let Emme pose us for a series of ridiculous photos, but we were having too much fun to care.

It was late when we left the restaurant, but time had no meaning in Vegas. Wilcox, McKerry, and Crawson headed to the blackjack tables while Hersberler wandered with me and Emme down the Strip. He was in one of his morose moods despite getting the exact contract terms he’d wanted, though every time someone stopped us to say hi or ask for a photo, his spirits lifted. Nothing if not vain, that one.

“And I thought this guy was a moody motherfucker,” Emme said to him as she tipped her head toward me. “Take it one day at a time, okay? And if that’s too much, just remember you’re the legendary Pumpkin Dick. No one else will ever live up to that.”

“They stopped making that formula,” he said, dismal as ever as he shot me a frown. “This might be the year it falls apart for me.”

“That’s no way to go into a preseason,” Emme said. “Listen, dude. You’re one of the few tight ends who are weapons of mass destruction in both receiving and blocking. You’re fast as fuck. You put up outrageous numbers, you know how to work in tight traffic, and you catch everything that comes anywhere near you. You have the most reliable hands in the League, my friend. You’re my guy’s safety valve and I need you to fortify yourself and be there for him this season.” She patted my arm, and even though she was running down Hersberler’s stats, her words had me smiling brighter than anything else in this city. “My biggest problem with you as a player is that I can’t have you on pass protection and plucking the ball out of the air at the same time.”

“Since when do you follow football?” I teased.

“I don’t,” she replied, fake horror all over her face.

I grabbed her hand, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. It gave me a chance to admire the rings on her finger. “Sure sounds like you do.”

“Can you please be quiet? I’m very busy nurturing your tight end because the team’s management dicked around on his deal and he doesn’t feel special anymore.”

Still frowning like someone just stole his ice cream cone, Hersberler stared at his shoes as we stepped through the front doors of our hotel. “I don’t need to feel special ,” he grumbled.

I shared an amused glance with my wife as we headed toward the elevators. “Okay, sweetie,” she said. “Whatever you say.”

“I’m going to try jerking off with a different self-tanner,” he said just as I heard a woman shout, “Emme! Ralston! Are you staying here too?”

And then I found myself staring at Charles Ahlborg and his wife Danielle, the woman he left Emme’s mom for.

“Oh, fuck me,” Hersberler said as he ran a hand down his face.

I took half a step forward, putting myself slightly in front of Emme as I reached for her hand. She grabbed hold, squeezing hard. Charles stared at his daughter, his lips parted and his brow wrinkled, and though it seemed completely out of character for him, it appeared he had no idea what to say.

His wife noticed this too, and she jumped in with, “Congratulations! Oh my god, sweetheart, you’re married ! I loved the photos so much.” She clasped her hands under her chin and wiggled a bit where she stood. “They were the sweetest. You were stunning, my darling. Absolutely gorgeous.” She reached out and skimmed a finger over Emme’s cheek before glancing back at her husband. “Wasn’t she beautiful, honey? Didn’t you say that this morning?”

Charles cleared his throat. “You looked lovely. I-I’m happy for you.” He shot a glance at me and I tipped my chin up in challenge. I didn’t care who the fuck he was. He’d need to go through me if he wanted to get to Emme. “Could we sit down somewhere private? For a few minutes?” He waved to the people streaming through the lobby. We drew a fair amount of attention to ourselves. “To celebrate your news?”

“I am late for my, um, my”—Hersberler tapped his watch no less than fifteen times—“my hour of meditation. Yes. That’s what I need to do. Tonight. Right now, actually. I’ll be going. To meditate and balance my…quadrants. Great seeing all of you. Really great. Princess, Ralston. The pleasure’s been all mine.” He bowed his head toward us before glancing at Emme’s father. “Sir. Ma’am. Until we meet again.”

“Don’t forget the self-tanner,” Danielle called as he sprinted away.

I felt the shocked huff of Emme’s laugh over my shoulder, and if I hadn’t been so busy making sure Charles didn’t step out of line, I would’ve appreciated the fuck out of that comment. But my job right now was putting up an impenetrable defense around my girl and nothing was getting in my way.

“I noticed the cutest bakery café on our way in,” Danielle said, pointing across the lobby. “They have a whole menu of hot chocolate. You’re a big fan of hot chocolate, aren’t you, Emme? Remember that time we got those truffle cocoas in Vail? Argh, so good!” She shimmied at the thought and I realized this lady was breaking her back to carry the conversation. “I think they have frozen hot chocolates too since it’s a little toasty-roasty out there tonight. We could just pop on over and check it out.” She gave her husband a not-so-subtle jab in the side. “Wouldn’t that be spectacular, honey?”

Charles seemed to struggle with finding the words. For my part, I struggled with not hauling off and laying this fucking guy out for the shit he put his daughter through. But then he said, “It would be wonderful, if it’s not too much trouble.” He shot a quick, plaintive glance in my direction. “But I don’t mean to intrude and I would understand if this isn’t the right time for you.”

Emme gave my hand a squeeze and I interpreted that as the signal to get us out of there—and do a much better job of it than Hersberler—but she said, “Yeah, okay.”

And that was how the four of us ended up crowded around a small table in a mostly empty café with mugs the size of soup tureens in front of us while Danielle chatted endlessly about the weather, the flight from Chicago, the new construction in Vegas.

I kept an arm around the back of Emme’s chair and my free hand laced with hers, my thumb stroking the inside of her wrist while her pulse hammered away. As far as I knew, this was the first time she’d seen her father since that horrible Christmas in the islands.

Danielle paused the monologue to reach for her mug and stabbed Charles with a meaningful glance in the process. “Oh, this is delicious,” she cooed. “Honey, you should try yours.”

Instead of touching his drink, Charles leaned forward, his hands clasped and his shoulders hunched. Not his usual look. The last I’d checked, the guy double-fisted arrogance and entitlement.

But then he said, “I checked myself into a treatment facility for alcohol abuse about five years ago. I didn’t go with the right mindset and it didn’t stick once I was out. I wasn’t ready to face myself and the person I’d become. It took another year for me to hit the bottom, and when I went back, I did better. I worked harder. There were relapses”—he exhaled heavily and his shoulders slumped even more—“but I didn’t let that pull me under. I got help. Therapy, medication. My diet is mostly plant-based now.”

His brows lifted like he wasn’t totally convinced about that one.

“I’ve been sober for two years, six months, and seven days. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it was long overdue.” He looked up, meeting Emme’s gaze. “What I did to you was inexcusable and I won’t ask for your forgiveness. But I want you to hear me say that I was wrong. I wasn’t the father you deserved. I’ve earned all the distance between us. My behaviors are the reason you are not in my life and I regret it everyday, but I understand it was the only choice you could make. I don’t blame you for a minute of it.” He knuckled a tear from the corner of his eye. “I do love you—very much—and I’m so proud of you.”

Emme stared at him, nearly motionless, before picking up her mug with shaky hands and downing half the drink. I watched her gazing into the overlarge cup for a moment like she wanted to climb inside and disappear.

When she set it on the saucer, she glanced between Charles and Danielle. “That’s a lot of information,” she said softly, a finger tracing the small plate.

“I don’t expect you to respond to all of this,” he said. “I just want you to know I’m deeply sorry and I hope that someday you’ll be willing to allow me into your life again.”

“I’ll think about that,” Emme said.

Charles nodded. “Thank you for giving me the chance to speak to you—and to extend my congratulations.”

“We’re so happy for you,” Danielle added. “Can you send me the originals of those photos? I need to get them framed.”

Emme made a vague noise of agreement, nodding. As far as I was concerned, we were done here. We’d heard everything Charles had to say and he’d indicated he wasn’t waiting on her forgiveness, and that was enough family time for us tonight. It was great that he’d put in the work, but my wife didn’t have to give him another second.

A beat passed while I considered the cleanest exit strategy, and Charles seized that moment to turn to me with a glimmer of the cocky smile he was known for. “I imagine you heard that I pulled my offer last month. Once I realized I was up against my future son-in-law for those teams, I knew it was time to back out.”

I felt the breath go out of me like I had three hundred pounds of linebacker on top of me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Emme slowly turn toward me. Her grip on my hand went slack as his words—those wrong fucking words—played on a loop in my head.

“I’ll come up with something else to keep my hands busy, but if you ever want to talk shop, you know how to find me,” Charles went on. “Though it did cross my mind to outbid you and offer them as a wedding gift.” He grinned at Danielle. “I was told I was doing too much.”

Emme pushed to her feet, shaking out of my hold in the process. She took a very intentional step away from me and then another when I tried to follow. Everything inside me turned upside down, revolting against the gulf of wrong forming between us.

“Thank you for telling me all of this,” Emme said. “I don’t know—I need some time. Okay? I’d like some time.” She clasped her hands and stared at her father for a long, heavy moment. “I’m glad you’re doing better.”

She strode out of the café, her arms crossed over her chest and I knew— I knew —this was how I’d fuck it all up.

How I’d ruin all the best things in my life.