36. Lottie
thirty-six
Lottie
Ham left after he dropped me off beside my car and made sure I was safely inside with the doors locked.
It’s less than an hour later, Ty comes running—yes, running—at top speed toward my car.
He has an open-mouthed smile that makes me chuckle, and I make a split-second decision to open my door and run toward him.
Because I no longer have to hide this, I want to fully experience a hug.
He must have the same idea, because he doesn’t slow until he’s right in front of me.
Instead of stopping, he sweeps me off my feet, squeezing me into a tight hug, twirling me around. We both break out laughing.
“You were amazing!” I exclaim when I finally catch my breath.
He stops spinning and lowers me to my feet, but he doesn’t let go. His hands stay wrapped around me as he lowers his face to mine. “So were you.”
He holds me so close I can feel his heart hammering through his shirt.
For a second, I stand here, focused on the steady rhythm of his heart.
It’s one of the most intimate things I’ve ever felt.
After the silence stretches for a beat, he presses his thumb on my chin, tilting my face toward his.
I don’t need instructions. I let my eyes drift closed as his warm breath brushes my lips.
His hand slides to cup my jaw, and I melt into his kiss.
Butterflies break free, fluttering through my stomach like they are about to throw a party.
I can’t help but smile. It’s kissing excellence.
“Why are you smiling?” Ty breaks the kiss long enough to ask before sealing his lips back to mine.
I don’t answer right away. I let my smile grow until I feel him smile back. It’s fun to tease him. His grip tightens at my waist, and I love everything about this moment.
“Because,” I murmur, brushing my mouth against his, “it’s been fun to watch you win life this week.”
His breath hitches as he pulls back, a soft chuckle sneaking out. “What do you mean, win life?”
I gaze up at him, loving how his eyes never leave mine. “What is there to question? You literally won everything—the game, the tournament, Ham’s support, all the fans love you.” My thumb traces the edge of his jaw, and I smile at how natural it feels to tease him. “And me.”
I expect him to laugh in agreement. Instead, his smile fades into a serious expression. “You know none of that matters if I don’t have you.” A swallow pulses through his throat. When I don’t respond right away, he lowers his voice. “You know that, right?”
Taken aback by how fast the moment shifted from playful to serious, I blink before speaking. “I do now.”
“Good.” He exhales softly, his expression softening. Then, more casually, he asks, “So…are you ready to go to dinner? I can’t wait to introduce you to the team and all the other WAGs.”
That word WAGs pings my heart.
Wife and girlfriends.
I can’t believe this is my life. It’s all I ever wanted.
I glance back at my car, then at him. His face is still flushed from the whirl of events.
My heart races, knowing we don’t have to hide anymore.
For a second, I just study him—not because I don’t love the sound of it, but because the ease of it catches me off guard.
This is us, creating our life together, and no one is dictating it anymore. “Sounds perfect.”
The next morning, I wake in one of the guest cabins, Ty’s kisses still fresh in my head.
It’s the first time in forever, I don’t go into work on a weekday.
I haven’t talked to my mom. I’m still mad at her.
It will take time before I can see her again, but there is one thing I feel obliged to do.
I stare at my phone for a full minute before scrolling to his name and pressing Call.
Bodan answers on the first ring. “Hey, Lottie. Wow, perfect timing. I was just—”
“I owe you an apology”—I hurry to get the words out before my courage fails—“for dragging you into something that got so messy. I should have never listened to my mom in the first place.”
I pause, squeezing my eyes shut, as I brace for him to get mad about the hockey game and the photo—but he just laughs. “Oh, don’t apologize. This has been the best experience of my life”
My eyes snap open. “What?”
“Seriously, I’m loving this. My Instagram is blowing up,” he says cheerfully. “I’ve got so many women reaching out to me, asking to chat. I’ve been asked out more times today than I could ever have imagined.”
Of course this is happening!
A relieved smile spreads across my face. “Well, I’m glad you’re not mad, I’m glad you aren’t sorry you got sucked into this mess, and I’m really glad you’re happy,” I say, meaning it. “And I’m glad I met you.”
“I am happy,” he says. “And I’m glad you’re happy too. Tyson seems like the real deal.”
“I think he is,” I say softly.
“So, I guess that leaves us as…what? Friends.”
“Friends,” I easily agree. I start to apologize again, then remember he’s happy, and there is no need. “Well, if we’re both happy, then I’ll let you go reply to all your Instagram admirers.”
“Thank you, and good luck, Lottie.”
“You too.” When the call ends, I stare at his name blinking on my screen. The conversation lasted only two minutes and was much easier than I could have imagined. I got lucky with Bodan. He was the perfect fake date, chin mole disease and all…
The sun is already up, past the time Mom leaves for the office, so it’s safe for me to get up.
These guest cabins are nice, but I have no groceries.
I need to sneak over to the main house for a cup of coffee before I can function.
I slide my feet off the bed and stumble down the hall to the door, slipping into my worn flip-flops.
I smile and wiggle my toes. It’s been a long time since I wore flip-flops on a Tuesday—Mom would never allow open-toe in the office.
I step out the door without slowing. Out of habit, I scan the yard and see the usual sights.
Mom’s sprawling flower gardens are fully awake this time of year, coneflowers rising above the beds to catch the morning sun.
Their pink and purple petals droop slightly, which, I think, only adds to their character.
Tucked among them, lavender and sage sprinkle in silvery touches to contrast the roses.
As much as I make fun of these gardens—because my mom lies about them—I do love them.
I love this whole place, and I’ll miss it when I leave.
My eyes bulge when I spot the goat pen gate wide open !
And not a goat in sight!
Not wide open like the goats pushed it open, but wide open like someone had neatly propped it that way. Frantically, I scan the field for the goats—and for my dad. He’s the only one who would take them out, but it’s never been at this hour before.
I glance toward the barn.
No goats.
The hills.
No goats.
The porch, where they aren’t supposed to be. I pray they are just being naughty.
No goats.
My heart ramps up as my gaze cuts to the road. We aren’t near a main highway, so I don’t have to worry about them getting into traffic, but they can still get lost. “Cinnamon!” I cry, because she’s usually the best behaved and the most likely to come running.
Nothing.
“Toast!”
Nothing.
“Crunch!” On any other day I’d have to giggle I’m screaming for cereal, but today I sprint up the large hill. By the time I scramble to the top, I’m out of breath but I need a better view of the area.
Nothing.
My goats are gone.
And oddly, so is everyone else.
This isn’t an accident.
This was revenge.
My mom hates those goats, but she knows how dear they are to me.
This has her hand all over it. In desperation, I race to the far end of the fence, scanning the tree line and neighboring fields.
My chest tightens with every second that passes without movement.
They get out all the time, but never through a propped-open gate.
Plus, they don’t wander far. They usually come to the porch to show off their escape.
My hands shake as I pull out my phone and call my dad. He answers on the third ring. “Hey, Lottie.”
“The goats are gone.” My words tumble over each other. “All of them, and the gate is open like someone left it open. Did you move them?”
“What? No,” he says immediately. “I ran into town early for an appointment to get new tires. Everything looked normal when I left at six.”
My pulse roars in my ears. “Are you sure you didn’t let them out to play and maybe forgot?”
“Like I said, everything was normal when I left. I didn’t have time to let them out.” He sighs, like he already knows something’s wrong. “We both know this is the game they play.”
“This isn’t them breaking out. Gates don’t just magically prop open. Someone let my goats out on purpose.”
“Don’t go accusing your mom just because you two had a falling out at work.”
The words feel like a slap. “I didn’t even say her name,” I snap, even though I absolutely was thinking it.
“You were about to,” he says, “and that’s not fair. I bet if you look, you’d see her car gone too.”
I do a visual sweep of the driveway, where only my Land Rover is parked. “You’re right. Nobody is here now, but someone opened the gate.”
“I’m just saying—”
“I have to go,” I cut in and end the call before he can finish.
My hands shake harder as I go back to my recent calls and press Ty’s name.
“Hey, Queen,” he greets me.
“Did you just call me Queen?” I gasp, my breath hitching at the swooniest thing I’ve ever heard. But I’m dizzy with worry for my missing goats, and I can’t think straight.
“I guess I did. Is that okay?”
“No, I mean… yes. But not now. I don’t have time to flirt, because my goats are gone. The gate got left open, and no one is here. I’m panicking.”
“Did you check the flower gardens?” he asks. “They like to get in there. Or—”