Chapter 21 #2
He follows my gaze toward his soon-to-be ex son-in-law, then nods.
I drop my hands in my pockets after tucking my mitt under my arm, then head toward Brandon, trying my best not to rush.
I don’t want it to look like I’m rescuing Lindsey.
I’m not. She can definitely take care of herself.
But I need this guy to know that everyone is on her side.
Brandon tips his chin up as I approach, and I offer him my mitt.
“Want to join in on the fun?” I know he doesn’t. He hates that he’s stuck out here.
“Is that what they’re having? Fun?” He grimaces, then shakes his head at what seems to have devolved into a game of keep-away out on the field.
I chuckle.
“Looks pretty fun to me.”
I drop my glove to the ground and look on with him, standing beside him while Lindsey takes Holly to the van.
“You could have hired a real nanny, you know,” he finally says.
We eye one another, and he shakes with a smug, silent laugh, then turns his gaze back to the field. I keep my focus right on him.
“She’s great with my daughter. She’s pretty great with your boys, too.” I stare at him until he finally gives in and glances at me briefly.
“Yeah, that’s just it. They’re my boys. You get that, right?” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple giving away the strain he’s feeling.
That’s what this is about. He’s jealous.
I bend down and pick up my mitt again, this time tapping his bicep with it, and forcing him to give it a good look.
“Then, you should go out there with them. They’d like that.” He stares at my mitt for several quiet seconds, and I think part of him really wants to take it, but eventually he pushes it away.
“Like I said, I’m good,” he huffs.
I shake my head. He simply can’t let me be right about something. He’d rather miss out on a great morning in the park with his boys than give in and take a little advice from a guy like me.
“Whatever,” I scoff, turning my back to him and heading toward the van, where Lindsey is wrapping up the waste from cleaning up Holly. I take the plastic bag from her, throwing the trash away while she pulls Holly’s cotton shorts back into place.
“You okay?” I ask. She’s clearly not.
“He said he thinks it would be too hard for me to be the primary parent while I’m going back to school.
Apparently, the boys have told him that I’m too busy at the table most nights, on my laptop or reading.
And when I’m not, I’m paying attention to Holly.
He told me they feel neglected.” She sniffles, and I run the pad of my thumb under her eye to catch the tear that falls. I don’t care who sees us.
“First of all, there’s no way the boys said that. He either flat-out lied or twisted their words. And second, don’t you dare feel bad about finishing your degree. Just because he couldn’t be a parent and a student at the same time doesn’t mean you can’t. Your boys are proud of you, just like I am.”
She forces a timid smile onto her lips and croaks, “Thanks.”
I nearly reach for her and pull her into a hug, but I stop myself.
Her ex is watching everything we do. In looking over her shoulder, though, I catch a glimpse of someone hovering around the back of my SUV.
And when the guy turns to the side, I recognize him immediately.
It’s the same sketchy dude who showed up at the ballpark a few weeks ago.
He’s holding a stick with a mirror on the end, scanning the undercarriage for something, and he’s drawing a lot of eyes—including Brandon’s.
“Shit,” I mutter, taking off across the parking lot.
The guy hears my heavy steps, and instantly breaks into a run, leaving his mirror device behind so he can leap over a neighboring fence.
I chase him for a bit, trying to head him off on the other side of the yard he fled through, but he’s gone by the time I round the corner.
He probably had someone waiting in a car nearby.
I jog back to my SUV, where Lindsey is standing with Holly, and Brandon has made his way over. I pick up the mirror and cut myself on the jagged crack.
“Dammit,” I hiss, sucking the droplet of blood from my thumb as I inspect the busted device in my other hand.
“Who was that?” Lindsey asks.
“I don’t know.” I look over my shoulder, in the direction the guy took off, and nothing looks out of place. No cars racing away. Nobody lingering in a driveway. It’s quiet.
“He showed up around a month ago, asking about the Suburban. Said he knew my mom.” I forget that I have an audience of two, but Brandon quickly reminds me.
“I don’t like that you’re putting our boys in unsafe situations, Lindsey. And you . . .” He points at my chest. “You should be focused on keeping all of these kids safe. Maybe practice is done for today, yeah?”
He shakes his head at me with a look of disgust, then heads toward the field, where his boys are still laughing and having fun with their team. He calls them over and they race toward him, but as soon as their tiny arms sag at their sides with apparent disappointment, Lindsey hands Holly to me.
“He’s going to take them home because of some manufactured concern. I’m putting a stop to this,” she says, marching toward him while I hang back with my girl.
I should probably follow behind her, but I’m starting to think I’m weakening her defense. And I’m not so sure that concern is manufactured. I don’t like that whoever that man is can easily find my vehicle. But I intend on getting to the bottom of that tonight.