7. Dayton
CHAPTER 7
Dayton
A s the crowd goes quiet, I watch Franny line up and swing, her long ponytail hanging out the back of the ball cap on her head, swishing from side to side as she connects with the ball. She claimed that the only reason she came in number two in the state with her school was because everyone else had the flu, but after watching her play all morning, I know that’s bullshit. She’s good—better than me and a lot of the guys I’ve played with who show up every weekend and golf like they’re trying to go pro.
She’s also a distraction in that cute-as-fuck short skirt, with her long tan legs and the tank top she has on, which shows a sliver of her tan stomach every time she moves. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off her, and neither have most of the men here.
“That wasn’t so bad.” She turns to face her father and me after seeing where the ball landed just a couple of feet from the next hole.
“Not so bad?” Barrett walks forward, laughing, and wraps his arm around her neck, squeezing her into his side. “If you wouldn’t make me look bad, I’d force you to come play with me on the weekends.”
“That’s never happening,” she tells his back when he lets her go and walks forward to take his shot.
As he focuses on lining up, she comes to stand next to me and lets out a sigh.
“You okay?” I ask her.
“Yeah, just tired.” She tips her head back to look at me from under the brim of her ball cap. “There are these windows in my apartment that let in the light off the street at night and the sun as soon as it breaks the horizon in the morning. And I can’t cover them, so it takes me forever to fall asleep, and no matter how exhausted I am, I’m up in the morning with the sun.”
“I have a spare room in my place with blackout blinds. You can crash there any time,” I tell her, and she rubs her lips together. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but she has the same look on her face that she had earlier when I gave her the ginger ale.
“I might take you up on that.” She turns to her dad when people start to clap.
“Billy, you’re up!” Barrett calls out, and I look over at my boss, who is standing near the golf cart and typing away on his phone, with obvious worry showing through each and every one of his features.
“Sorry.” He stalks forward with his club.
“Is everything all right?” Barrett asks him quietly, probably noticing like I have that he’s been distracted by his phone for most of the day.
“Yeah, but when we finish up here, I need to take off.”
“Do you need to go now?” Barrett questions.
“No, we only have one more hole.” He takes his shot, and when he’s done, he motions for me to come over. “Walk with me. I need to speak with you.”
“Sure.” I pass Franny my club. “We’ll meet up with you guys.”
“Okay,” she says quietly, glancing at Billy with concern before getting into the golf cart with her dad.
“What’s going on?” I ask Billy as the last golf cart passes us on the way to the next hole.
“Last night, an anonymous source sent a blind item to News 8, claiming that my mistress is working at the district attorney’s office with me,” he starts, and I press my lips together in order to keep my mouth shut. “I spoke to my lawyer, and there’s nothing he can do to prevent them from running with the story, so it will be going out tonight.” He slows to a stop. “I need a favor from you.”
“Billy.” There’s no missing the warning in my tone.
“I need you to pretend that you and Jamie are dating until this blows over.”
Anger and a feeling of powerlessness cause my hands to ball into fists. “I’m not comfortable doing that.”
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I don’t want anything from you, Billy, and I don’t want to be involved.” I start to walk off.
“Jamie told me she overheard a conversation between you and a woman named Francisca yesterday,” he calls to my back, and my steps slow.
I don’t know what’s worse—that he’s playing this game or that he’s bringing Franny into it.
“Does Barrett know Franny is pregnant?”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I snap, turning to face him, and he takes a step back, registering the threat in my voice.
“A story about Barrett’s recently divorced, unwed daughter having a child with a man she just met would be big news.”
“So your plan is to fuck over your friend in order to save your own ass?”
“I need to protect my family.”
“You don’t give a fuck about your family, Billy. If you did, you wouldn’t be having an affair with a woman who isn’t much older than your son. And you sure as fuck wouldn’t have her working in the office with you so that you can live out some twisted fantasy,” I spit out, and I watch him turn red.
“Watch how you’re talking to me, Dayton. I’m still your boss.”
“Did you forget that you’re trying to blackmail me into covering for you?”
“It would be temporary.”
“No.”
“Then I’m going to give News 8 the story about Francisca,” he says, and dread fills the pit of my stomach. I’m not worried about me. I don’t give a fuck about my reputation, but I know Franny would be devastated if her father found out that she’s pregnant from some two-minute news clip before she was ready to tell him. Right now, she’s under enough stress with this situation without adding public scrutiny to the mix.
“Fine,” I grit out.
“Thank you.”
“This isn’t a favor I’m willingly offering you, Billy. You’ve literally left me no choice.” I turn and start walking once again.
“I appreciate it all the same,” he says to my back.
I ignore him and lengthen my strides to put distance between us, just so I won’t do something stupid—like shove the golf club he’s still holding up his ass.
When I reach the area where everyone is waiting, Franny’s gaze finds mine, and she closes the distance between us.
“Is everything okay? Is Billy all right?” she asks, meeting me at the edge of the crowd. I hate that she’s worried about him.
“He’s fine,” I mutter, and her eyes roam over my face. I don’t know what she sees, but she nods and doesn’t ask more.
Billy smartly keeps his distance during the final round and takes off right after he finishes making his last shot. I don’t know if he’s going home to his wife to give her a heads-up about the story and explain that it’s all a misunderstanding or if he’s meeting up with Jamie to tell her his grand plan about her and me now dating.
The thought makes me angry all over again.
When we get back to the clubhouse, I start to tell Franny and Barrett that I’m going to take off. With Billy gone, there’s no reason for me to stick around. But my words are thwarted before they can come out of my mouth.
“You’re staying, right?” Franny asks quietly, with an edge of nervousness in her tone, as people brush past us to go into the dining room.
The last thing I want to do is sit through a fancy lunch, especially when I still feel so on edge, but I can’t leave her, not when she’s looking at me like she is.
“Yeah,” I mutter, and her body seems to relax.
Finding a table in the back, I take a seat next to her, with Barrett on her opposite side.
“Is Billy all right?” Barrett asks around his daughter as I lean forward to pick up my water.
“He’s fine. Just some family stuff.”
“Is Shelly okay?” Franny questions softly. “My mom mentioned that she was diagnosed with breast cancer recently.”
What the fuck?
“Shelly has breast cancer?” Barrett asks, and Franny nods, taking off her ball cap and pulling the ponytail elastic out of her hair.
“Shit, I wish he would have told me. Your mom hasn’t even mentioned it.”
“I don’t know if they’re keeping it private right now,” Franny says, rubbing her lips together as she glances over at me.
“He hasn’t mentioned it to me either.” I’m glad I didn’t know. If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to keep myself from putting my hands on him. Cheating on your wife is already low. But doing it while she has cancer? That’s...
I don’t even know what that is.
“Some of the best cancer doctors in the world are in Nashville, so hopefully, she’ll be okay,” Barrett says, then changes the subject when other people approach the table to sit with us. “How’s work been, Dayton?”
“Busy as usual.”
“There’s never a lack of work in your world.”
“You’re right about that.”
“Are you working on a case now?” Franny asks after Barrett excuses himself to use the restroom.
“I just got a new one. It’s a cold case from the ’90s.”
“It must be difficult to take a case that old to court.”
“It can be, but with DNA technology advancing as quickly as it is, it helps.”
“I read an article the other day about DNA and genealogy identifying Jack the Ripper.”
“I think I probably read that same article. But I’m not sure if Aaron Kosminski was the Ripper, even if he does look like a viable suspect, given his history and that he was brought in for questioning during the murders.”
“Why do you think he might not be the guy if they have his DNA?”
“The article of clothing they got the DNA from is over a hundred years old. It was passed around numerous times over the years without anyone knowing what they do today about preserving evidence. And the DNA wasn’t his; it was just linked to him through his family.”
“Is that what you do when you’re working a case? Try to prove that the suspect isn’t guilty of the crimes he’s being charged with?”
“Kind of. Going into a case, I already know there’s going to be someone on the opposite side of the courthouse attempting to get their client off, so I have to figure out all the angles they will use to do that before I bring them to court.” I lean back when a Caesar salad is placed in front of me, with two pieces of the fish they use for the dressing laid across the top. I look over at Franny when she makes a noise and quickly slides her salad bowl away from her.
“Sorry.” She covers her mouth.
“Just breathe through your mouth,” I tell her quietly, trying not to draw attention to ourselves.
It takes a minute, but the color starts to come back to her face, which had gone pale.
“I’m okay,” she whispers.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Thanks.” She picks up her water and takes a sip. “I’ll be happy when this part is over.”
“What part?” Barrett asks, and Franny’s expression turns panicked.
“She was just saying that she can’t wait until the bidding starts,” I cover quickly, and her shoulders, which had tensed, relax.
“Oh, are you going to bid on something today?” Barrett asks, picking up the card on the table with the list of things that are going to be up for auction.
“I was thinking about going for one of the spa days. Maybe I’ll take Mom.”
“That would be nice, but I figured you’d try to win the wine package.” He smiles.
“I would, but I’m currently doing that no-alcohol trend that’s popular on social media right now.”
He raises a brow. “You should have your brother do that with you.”
She snorts. “Jacob wouldn’t last a week without drinking.”
“Unfortunately, you’re not wrong,” Barrett says, cutting into his salad, and the color once again drains from Franny’s face.
Reaching under the table, I wrap my hand around her thigh, hoping to distract her. Her skin is smooth and warm, and the little gasp she makes reminds me of the noise she made when I slid inside of her. I’ve thought about that night a lot—the sounds she made, the way she felt wrapped around me, and how everything happened so fucking fast. The instant it was over, I regretted taking her like I did and hated that I couldn’t say no when I should have. Then I regretted not taking my time with her, enjoying the moment, stretching it out as long as I could. I also think about how I ran like a fucking coward because the first thought in my head after I fucked her was once would never be enough.
Covering my hand with hers, she presses her fingers into my skin, and she looks over at me with her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“Okay?” I mouth, and when she nods, I slide my hand off her thigh.
As lunch carries on, she doesn’t eat any of the food placed in front of her; all she does is move stuff around on her plate to make it look like she did. I want to ask her if she’s been eating and keeping any food down, but now is not the time to do that, and honestly, I don’t know if it’s my place to ask her at all.
I’m walking a very thin line, trying to be supportive while keeping myself distant. It’s difficult, and I have a feeling it’s just going to become harder the more time that passes. And it will likely become impossible when I can confirm that she is pregnant with my child—something I already believe, even with the knowledge that it should not be possible.
Maybe I would feel differently if I thought she had something to gain from naming me as the dad. But I don’t have money—not much of it, anyway—and I’m a fucking nobody, especially when you look at her social circle and who her father is. She’s surrounded by men who could provide more for her baby than I would ever be able to. So, if she were looking for financial security, she wouldn’t have to look very far. And I have no doubt that most of the men she comes in contact with would tie themselves in knots in order to give her whatever she wanted if she were willing to give them a chance.
Including her ex-husband, who made it clear the night we met that he wants her back.
When the auction finally comes to an end, and people start to leave the room. Barrett looks between Franny and I as we get up from our table. “What are you doing the rest of the day?”
“I think I might try to take a nap. Molly came over last night, so I was up late with her.”
“We haven’t seen her in a while. Is she doing okay?” he inquires as we make our way toward the door.
“Yeah, just working. Ted’s been keeping her pretty busy.”
“He wants her to take over the business, so that makes sense.”
“I guess,” Franny agrees as a man approaches Barrett and asks if he wants to go play another round of golf.
“Do you want to join us?” Barrett asks, looking down at Franny.
“I would rather have my fingernails pulled out one by one,” she tells him, and he laughs before looking over at me.
“What about you? Are you up for another round?”
“I would, but I have some work to do.”
“All right.” He reaches out to shake my hand. “I’ll see you at the Hoffner event, right?”
“I should be there.”
“Good.” He lets my hand go and pats my arm, then looks at Franny and kisses her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.”
“Yeah.” She gives him a hug, then the two of us watch him walk away before we head outside.
“Where are you parked?” I ask her as we make our way down the sidewalk toward the parking lot. It’s a beautiful day with the sun out and a slight breeze in the air.
“Right over there.” She motions across the lot to a small baby-blue car that is parked under the shade of a tree. Without a word, I start walking her to her car and stop next to the driver’s side door as she digs her keys out of her bag. “Thanks for covering for me in there.” She looks up at me, her eyes looking more blue than green as the shadows and the light shining between the leaves of the tree dance across her delicate features and full lips.
“I noticed you didn’t eat.”
“Yeah, toast seems to be the only thing I can keep down right now. Last night, Molly brought pizza and ice cream, and in case you don’t know, that is not a good combination when it comes back up.” She smiles as I start to open my mouth. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“Did your doctor tell you how long this stage will last?” I ask, uncomfortable with the amount of guilt I feel, even knowing this part of pregnancy is normal for most women. I don’t like that she’s been sick.
“A few more weeks, if I’m lucky.” She covers her mouth as she yawns.
“The offer stands if you want to borrow my guest room to take a nap. I’ll be home, but I need to go over the case I’m working on, so it’ll be quiet.”
“I think I’ll be okay. I’m so tired right now I’m pretty sure I’d be able to sleep in the middle of a Guns N’ Roses concert.”
“You need sleep, Franny.”
“I know.” She rubs her lips together.
“So then use my guest room.”
“I don’t really want to leave PJ. I’ve been gone all morning, and he gets anxious when he’s alone too long.”
“Then bring him with you. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Dayton,” she whispers, and without thinking, I reach my hand out and wrap it around the lower part of her jaw.
“Come over and take a nap. Your dog will be okay with me for a few hours while you sleep,” I tell her, and her eyes wander over my face before she lets out a breath.
“Okay.”
“Okay.” I let my hand fall away. “I’ll follow you.”
After getting her nod, I open her door and wait until she’s in and buckled before I leave her to walk over to my SUV. It takes a little time to get to our building. Traffic in the city on the weekends is always bumper to bumper, with people here from out of town and all the party buses that drive up and down the strip.
As she parks, I pull in behind her, shut down the engine, and then get out, meeting her at her door before she has a chance to get it open.
“Should I just meet you upstairs?” she asks, taking my hand when I reach for hers to help her out of the car.
“No, I’ll come with you and help you get PJ.”
Receiving her nod, I follow her to the door of our building and punch in the code to let us in. As we are stepping inside, I bite back a curse when I see my brother, Tucker, getting off the elevator while pushing an empty stroller, followed by his stepson, Kingston, on his scooter. His wife, Miranda, finally emerges while holding their daughter—Jenny, who is just a few months old—as if the two males insisted on making sure the coast was clear before letting their ladies out of the safety of the elevator.
“Dayton!” Kingston jumps off the scooter, letting it hit the floor with a thud before he runs to me. When he hits me full force, I go back a step as his arms wrap around my hips.
“Hey, bud.” I rub the top of his head. “You heading out with Mom and Dad?”
“Yep.” He pops the last letter. “We’re going for a walk and stopping for ice cream.”
“Nice.” I lift my eyes to Miranda and notice she’s eyeing Franny curiously.
Shit.
“You good, man?” Tucker asks, and I take my eyes off Miranda to meet my brother’s gaze. I haven’t told him or Miles about Franny; the only one who knows about her is Clay.
“All good.” I turn to Franny. “This is my brother, Tucker, his wife Miranda, and their kids, Jenny and Kingston. Guys, this is Franny. She lives here on the first floor.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Franny smiles as Kingston goes over to stand in front of his mom.
“You too.” Miranda returns her smile with one of her own.
“Tucker isn’t my real dad; he’s my stepdad,” Kingston says, then adds, “But I still call him dad.”
“Cool.” Franny laughs.
“Are you Uncle Dayton’s girlfriend?”
“No, we’re just friends,” she tells him softly.
“That sucks. Mom and Aunt Emma say he needs a girlfriend, and you’re pretty.”
“Oh, wow, thanks.” She laughs again as Miranda reaches her hand down to cover Kingston’s mouth.
“Okay, well, I think that’s our cue to leave,” she says with her cheeks pink. “Sorry about that. He doesn’t have a filter right now, and everything just kind of comes out… all the time.”
“He’s adorable,” Franny assures, with laughter in her voice.
“I’m not sure you’d feel the same if you received some of the phone calls I’ve gotten from his school.” She chuckles, adjusting Jenny in her arms when she begins to wiggle. “It was nice meeting you, Franny. Hopefully, we’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, hopefully,” she agrees as they move past us and out the door, saying goodbye as they leave. “They seem nice.”
“They are.”
“And your nephew is cute,” she adds softly as we start down the hall toward her apartment.
“He is. He’s also a handful, and that only gets worse when he’s with his cousin.”
“How many nieces and nephews do you have?”
“Four. Tucker and Miranda have Kingston and Jenny, Miles has Winter—he just recently got married, and Winter’s biological mom lives in Colorado—and Willow and Clay have Rowen.” We stop at Franny’s door, and as soon as she opens it, PJ excitedly starts to jump around at her feet… until he notices me and starts backing up.
“Don’t act like that. You remember Dayton.” She lifts him off his feet, and I rub the top of his head.
“Does he need to go out before we go upstairs?”
“Yeah, I’ll take him.”
“How about I do that while you get your stuff together?”
“I—”
“He’ll be fine,” I assure her when she gives me a nervous look.
“All right.” After she gets him on his leash, I take a few treats she hands me, shoving them in my pocket, and pick him up since it’s obvious he’s not willingly going to go with me without his mom. No matter how many treats I try to bribe him with.
Carrying him in my arms, I take him outside, down the block to the park, and put him down when we reach the grass. It takes him a few minutes to accept that he’s stuck with me and to start walking, but before long, he forgets about my existence and is just excited to be outside. As we walk, more than one person greets him by name, then asks about Franny when they see I’m the one holding his leash. It’s not surprising that she’s popular or that it’s mostly men who stop to say hello to PJ and know Franny by name. I imagine everywhere she goes, she draws attention to herself without even realizing she’s doing it.
After we make a loop around the park, I give him a treat and call for him to follow me, and knowing we are going back to his mom, he hurries his steps to lead the way. When we are halfway down the block, I notice a man standing in the doorway of Franny’s apartment with his back to me. It takes me just a second to realize that it’s Matthew, Franny’s ex, and seeing him in her space, looming over her, annoys me more than it should.
Hearing us coming up behind him, he turns to look over his shoulder, and his eyes narrow on me. Then, drop to the sidewalk when PJ brushes past him to get to Franny, ignoring him altogether.
“Hey, did you have fun?” she asks, picking PJ up, and he wiggles in her arms, licking her face. “Was he okay for you?” Her gaze meets mine.
“He was fine. A few people asked where you were.”
“We have lots of friends at the park.” She smiles, then looks at Matthew when he clears his throat. “Dayton, you remember Matthew.”
“What’s up?” I jerk up my chin
Giving me a tight smile, he dismisses me and turns his attention back to Franny. “Can we get dinner tonight? I’d like to talk to you about the condo.”
“What’s going on?” She frowns, unhooking PJ from his leash and placing him on the floor inside the apartment.
“I’ve been thinking about us renting it out instead of selling right now, and I’d like to go over the details with you.”
“Matthew—”
He holds up a hand, cutting her off. “I know you mentioned that you need the money so you can get out of here. I can let you borrow whatever you need.”
“I don’t want to borrow money from you. I want the money I’m owed from the condo.”
“If we wait four years, we will likely double our profit since they just announced they’re putting in more shopping and restaurants down the block from our building.”
“Then you buy me out and sell it in four years.”
“Francisca, be smart about this,” he says, and I watch her frame fill with tension. “We can discuss the details over dinner.”
“I have plans tonight, and we don’t need to talk about it. I’ve already told you what I want.” She looks at me, her eyes filled with frustration. “Are you ready?”
“Whenever you are.”
“I’m ready now.” She looks back to Matthew. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening at my parents’. Mom mentioned that you and your mother are coming to dinner.”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Call me later.”
She doesn’t respond to that request but waits until he’s walking away to let out a long breath.
“Sorry about that,” she murmurs, then motions for me to come inside.
“You, okay?”
“Just annoyed, but that’s nothing new.” She walks across the apartment as I close the door and lock it.
“You two still own a property together?” I ask her back as she walks to a stack of boxes and disappears behind it.
“Yes, a three-bedroom condo near Germantown. We got it before the housing market boom and the price of real estate skyrocketed. When we split up, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to sell or buy my half from me so I moved in here.” She steps out from behind the boxes that are taller than her holding a piece of fabric in her hand. “But now it’s become a whole thing, and I can’t exactly complain about it because I was an idiot for not forcing him to make a decision before I moved out.”
“Maybe it’s time to talk to a lawyer.”
“I know but I hate the idea of having to hear my dad or Phillip say I told you so.”
“Phillip?”
“My family’s lawyer.” She drags her fingers through her long hair sweeping it over to one side. “My dad told me that I needed to give Matthew a strict timeline for the sale and Phillip didn’t say it, but I know he was annoyed that I didn’t get things with Matthew in writing before we finalized our divorce.”
“You might not want to hear ‘I told you so,’ but it would be better than dealing with this situation for the next year.”
“You’re right.” She looks around and her shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I frown.
“Wasting your time, I don’t think I’m going to be able to take a nap now. I just…”
“You need sleep, Franny.”
“I know.” She whispers sounding exhausted and I imagine a lot of that exhaustion has to do with her ex showing up likely unannounced in an attempt to get her attention. How often does he do that, just show up out of the blue without calling?
“Come upstairs with me, if you fall asleep great, if not at least you tried.” I tell her and she rubs her lips together before she gives in with a nod.
“I just need to change, I was going to do that, but Matthew showed up.”
“I’ll wait for you.” I tell her softly and with another nod she disappears into the bathroom and shuts the door. When she comes out a couple minutes later, she’s wearing a dress with thin straps that hits her mid-thigh, the cut of it is loose but still it clings to the tips of her small breasts and without a bra I can make out her nipples through the fabric. My mouth actually waters at the sight. I quickly lift my eyes to hers, hoping like fuck that she can’t see the thoughts running through my mind. “Ready?”
“Umm yeah.” She shifts on her feet.
Shit
I don’t know if I was any good at hiding what I was thinking seconds ago, but every thought is displayed across her pretty features as her eyes wander over my face.
“What do you need me to carry?” I ask, cutting through the sexual tension I can feel building in the air between us. This situation between us is already complicated enough, I don’t need to add to it by giving into my desire to kiss or touch her.
And I really fucking want to do both those things.