44. Gwen
forty-four
Gwen
Present
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.
This is not how I wanted my father to find out about me and Lance. Vomit rises, hot and sour, in my throat. I don’t know how my voice remained steady.
When I saw that article online, I knew he would go straight to Lance. I was trying to avoid this very situation, so I rushed to warn my husband. Then I planned on speaking to my father. Alone.
The responsibility falls on me, not on Lance. I should have spoken to my dad weeks ago, but I was too chicken. I feared his reaction. Too scared to admit my relationship with Lance had evolved into something more.
But I’m not afraid anymore.
Thirty silent seconds later, my father’s nostrils flare as he growls, “I’ll sit when I’m damn well ready.”
“Watch it,” Lance warns.
My father scoffs. “You’re the one who needs to watch it. Better pack your bags, Taylor, ’cause the first chance I get, I’m trading your ass to Timbuk-fucking-tu.”
“You can try,” Lance goads.
Before I can interject and put their arguing to an end, Anson does it for me. “Whoa. Let’s not be too hasty, gentlemen. Take a breath, and let’s talk this out like adults.”
“Don’t start with me, Anson.” My father turns to his team manager, who stands and places his hands in the air in surrender.
Leaving his desk, Anson walks over and situates himself between my father and me. “Ted, take a second before you say something else you’ll regret. You put me in charge of the team because you know and trust me. Don’t offer to trade any of my guys before talking to me, or I’ll walk.”
My father’s mouth opens and closes, struggling between shouting and listening. Eventually, my father nods.
“Good. Glad we agree. Now, since I know and respect you, I will give you a minute to speak with your daughter. Alone.”
“Hell no,” Lance shouts. “I do not agree to that. I’m not leaving here without my wife.” In a defensive stance, Lance crosses his arms over his chest.
“Stop saying that,” Dad grunts, his face turning red.
“Wife,” Lance snarls.
Anson points to the door. “Taylor, get your ass in that locker room or you’re benched. Believe me, this is for the best. Let them talk.”
Ignoring Anson and my scowling father, Lance grabs my shoulders and turns me to face him. Worry and anger mar his features, and his vivid blue eyes have gone icy. “Stay or go? What do you want me to do?”
What I want is for him to stay, but I need to handle this on my own. I won’t let my father bully Lance or try to harm his career. From the start, I knew I would go to bat for him, no matter the price.
“I’ve got this.”
He wraps me in his arms for a tight hug and whispers, “I hate leaving you.”
“I know. Me too. I’ll find you after, okay?” I say low enough for only him to hear.
He nods. “Okay, baby. You’ve got this.”
For him, I do.
I smile into his shoulder, breathing in his citrus and pepper scent and letting it calm my nerves. “Thanks for believing in me.”
“Always.” Lance places a soft kiss on my lips, then nails my father with a glare. His parting words are a warning. “Hurt her, and you’ll regret it.”
I watch Lance’s retreating form until Anson closes the door, both men firmly on the other side. The caution aimed at my father from the man I love has me grappling with tears. Even when it could hurt his career, Lance supports me. This knowledge fuels me as I face off with my father.
It’s a struggle to speak as my father stares at me with so much disappointment in his green eyes. I return the look. I’m the one who should be disappointed.
“I know you’re angry.”
“Angry?” he mocks, throwing his hands in the air, gesticulating with every word he shoots at me. “Try embarrassed. You embarrassed me and the organization. What were you thinking?”
“It was never my intention for you to find out this way. I was going to tell you.”
“Does your mother know?”
“No.” I shake my head.
His shoulders sag in relief. I know finding out about the will made Mom angry, and she’d let my father know.
Mom being angry at him can’t be easy. She’s always looked at him as if he walks on water.
And he’s always looked at her as though she’s his entire world.
But secrets shake the bedrock, even in a strong marriage.
“Is this because of that damn will? Because you want to be head of marketing?” he asks, hitting the bullseye.
“It was—” I start.
“Divorce him, and I’ll change the will. You can be head of marketing,” he interrupts.
I shake my head. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“Don’t need to. Get a divorce, and I’ll give you what you want. You can’t be married to some baseball player. You know what these guys are like. All they do is sleep around. He’s no different. He’ll end up hurting you or worse.”
“Lance wouldn’t. He’s not like that.”
“Gwenny, you’re making a mistake. He—”
It’s my turn to interject. “Dad, stop. I need you to hear me.” His mouth bobs open, and I put my hand up. “Nuh-uh. Listen. When I married Lance, yes, it was because I wanted the job. At least, that’s what I told myself. But the truth is, I married him because I was in love with him.”
“How can you be in love with someone you don’t even know? You’ve only been working for the team for a few months.”
“I met Lance at the World Series party, and we’ve been together ever since.” The partial lie slips off my tongue with ease.
In all honesty, I fell for Lance the moment his blue eyes collided with mine. For the first time, it felt as though someone else truly saw me, down to my soul, and understood.
We may have hit a bit of a bad run at the beginning of our relationship. Both of us let our anger and hurt, and a whole lot of fear, keep us apart.
Marrying Lance changed all that. It took me a while to see it, but now I do.
Lance is my person, and I will not let my father question his character.
“You cannot be married to a player on the team, and that’s final.” His haughty tone strikes a nerve. I know my father to be a stubborn man, but even for him, this is ridiculous. He’s already made up his mind. No amount of talking or fighting will get him to change his mind.
“Then I quit.”
My father’s job hits the floor. “You what?”
“I. Quit,” I repeat to a flabbergasted Ted Montgomery.
That’s a first.
Any other time I’d revel in my victory, but right now all I want to do is get as far away from him.
“You can’t,” he splutters as I reach for the door.
“I can, and I will. You do not respect me. Nor do you appreciate all my hard work. My whole life, I have done everything I can to make you proud. To live up to your expectations. But I don’t think that’s possible.
At least not for a daughter. I love The Evaders.
Working here has been my dream since I was a little girl with pigtails, answering phones with Sylvie and sitting in your chair, but in case you missed it, that little girl”—I point to myself—“is all grown up. She has new dreams, and they start and end with that baseball player. If you can’t accept that, then I’m done. I’ll see you around, Dad.”
Without another word, I walk out of Anson’s office.
To my surprise, Lance, in full uniform and looking every bit like my dirty knight in shining white and blue baseball armor, stands across the way, leaning against the wall, waiting for me.
He pushes off with his foot and opens his arms wide in invitation. Tears sting my nose as I walk into his warm embrace, burying my face into his thick chest as the emotions I have been holding back reach their breaking point, and a sob escapes me.
“Shh, I’ve got you, baby,” Lance repeats as he scoops me up and carries me away.
I’m oblivious to my surroundings as I let all the anger, disappointment, and heartache pour out of my eyes. Through it all, he holds me, uttering words of support and comfort.
When I’m finally all cried out, I find myself on the floor, sitting across Lance’s lap in the corner of an empty conference room. The same one where he proposed.
“Did you hear all that?” I sniffle, sitting back to look into his blue eyes that bring me solace.
“I’ve heard enough.” He sighs, pushing my hair off my face.
“Do you mind if I go home?”
“No. Not at all.”
I place my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” I rear back to read his face.
“Causing you and your father to get into it. For putting you in a position where you had to quit. For convincing you to go along with my stupid plan and marry me.”
“Do you regret it?” I ask, almost choking on the words. I don’t regret marrying Lance. It was impulsive, and the best thing I ever did.
“Marrying you?” he asks.
I nod.
“Fuck no. I’d marry you a million times over if I could. I … Fuck. I didn’t want to do this here, but I can’t let you leave without knowing.” His body shakes beneath me as he gathers his thoughts.
I turn and straddle his lap, cupping his scruffy cheeks in my palms. The blue in his eyes darkens as I kiss his nose and smile.
“I love you, Lance.”
“Dammit, woman. You stole my line.”
“I did.” I throw my head back and laugh.
He shakes his head. “Not cool. You can’t go around stealing people’s thunder. Especially when they are trying to say they love you.”
“Go on then, tell me you love me.”
“Witch,” he hisses with a smirk. “I love you, Gwen. So damn much. Fell for you the moment I laid my eyes on you.”
“You know it took me longer, right?”
“How much longer?”
I shrug. “Like, an hour.”
A wide, devilish grin parts his lips. “Too fucking long.”
Lance crashes his mouth to mine in a hard kiss. Our lips part, and our tongues twirl together. I tilt my head, and Lance deepens our kiss. My arms circle his shoulders as he palms my ass in his hands.
It doesn’t matter that I’m jobless and have possibly ruined my relationship with my father, because being right here, in my husband’s arms, is exactly where I’m supposed to be.