Chapter 42
Liam
"Tessa?"
"Actually, it's Jo… her sister."
My heart drops into my stomach. "Is everything—"
"Tess is fine," she jumps in. "Well, we're at the hospital—"
"What?"
"But for me," she clarifies—about three seconds too late for my liking. A dull beeping in the background sounds as if to prove it. "We're both okay, I—just a little blood sugar thing on my end. All good now, though."
"Okay…" I say hesitantly, though my pulse doesn't slow as I turn my back to Jace. "So, what's going on? Why do you have her phone?"
"Oh, I took it. Well, technically she gave it to me. I lied about mine being dead to use hers, but she knew, so I had to cover it with the truth. Genius, right?"
My silence must explain my confusion as I try to follow her logic.
"You don't have any sisters do you?" she asks simply.
"Just one brother."
"Ah, yep. That explains it." She exhales a breath of relief as if she were the one that's been handed a mess of half-formed information. "The hockey guy, right? Luca? Leon?"
"Levi."
"Man," she says, brushing it off. "Strong genes. What exactly do your parents do?"
"Jo…"
"Sorry… Digging's sort of my thing."
I inhale deeply, gripping my phone a little tighter. "Jo… why are you calling?"
"Oh, good point. I don't have much time before she gets back." Her tone shifts. "I need you to not let her bail."
My stomach twists. Her last word triggers the fear that's been taunting me since I saw that pink note.
"Bail on what?"
"On you and her—telling Ruthie, falling in love—I didn't really catch your whole plan in her little spiral."
I whip around at the sound of my daughter's name and spot her and Sammy both chasing the same ball.
Ruthie's laughing as Sammy's tongue flaps out of his mouth, both completely unaware that I'm slowly unraveling as they play.
I meet eyes with Jace just briefly as he takes practice swings, either conveniently or purposely giving me space.
"Spiral?" I ask, nodding toward the cage and motioning for him to get started.
"Yeah," Jo says. "She's sort of freaking out. Or was. I think. It feels like things ended better than they started, but she's scared."
My chest tightens. "Scared?"
"Yeah. I really think you should hear the rest from her, but just make sure she tells you, okay? Don't let her back out."
I shake my head trying to make sense of it. How could this happen after last night?
"Okay…" I say, though I'm still stuck in my head.
"Listen," she adds gently. "You guys will figure it out. But when she calls you, don't let her put it off—no excuses. She's about to make helping me her whole personality, I can feel it. But she deserves to be happy."
That part, at least, is clear.
"Yeah," I agree quietly. "She does."
"Okay, great. Well, then… batter up, Montgomery. And don't tell her I called."
"I won't," I promise, watching as Jace's face tenses when the pitching machine clangs to life. "Under one condition."
Jo scoffs playfully. "I knew I liked you."
"Tell me where you are."
Jace looks back at me, and I raise my brows. He shakes his head, but steps into his stance anyway.
"Ashford Hospital," she answers. A muffled voice over the loudspeaker calls for Nurse O'Reilly. "But we're leaving soon and heading back to my apartment."
"Where's that?"
"Briar Point. Should take like two hours."
"Perfect. Shoot me the address. I'm right behind you." I pause. "But don't tell her that either."
Jo chuckles. "And he hits it out of the park, folks. Good job, baseball boy."
I force a laugh, my thoughts already past the conversation. "Thanks, Jo. I'll see you soon."
I hang up the phone, unsteady. Somehow flooded with information but still missing the most important piece.
Tessa.
I turn toward the field.
"Roo!" I call. My little girl whips around, not a care in the world, completely unaware that her whole life is about to change—or maybe not.
Time to find out.
"Come here for a second!"
I filled Ruthie in—or at least gave her enough information that it wasn't a lie. I told her Tess needed my help, and she agreed I should go to her.
I think it helped that Jace offered to hang out with her until her aunt or uncle could come pick her up. He was a little less enthusiastic about Sammy's nails on his leather seats, but the promise of a full detail seemed to satisfy him more than it probably should—especially with his salary.
So, here I am, standing in line at Drippy's for cinnamon rolls to bring to Jo's apartment. Is it the best thing to bring over after a diabetic scare? Probably not. But I'm not sure I've ever seen Tessa more content than when she has a mouth full of cinnamon goo and lips coated in icing.
I'm still not exactly sure what I'm doing. All I know is that Jo told me that she thinks Tessa's afraid, and I've decided it's my job to make sure that she isn't. Not now. Not ever.
Things will change when we tell Ruthie—I know that, and so does Tess.
It'll be out in the open, and we'll need to ease Roo into it.
There will be specific ways we need to navigate our new relationship with my job and publicity in mind, and of course her position as our nanny will change too—or end altogether—though we haven't necessarily discussed any of that yet.
But I don't want any part of being with me to scare her.
Jo told me not to let her bail when she called, but I wasn't going to wait around for that to happen. Not because I didn't think she would, but because I don't want another single second to go by without putting both of our minds at ease.
Unless it's to pick up her favorite sweet treat.
"Montgomery!" the barista behind the counter calls out. They're busier today than I expected and running low on baked goods. But for once in the last few years of my life, I played the Gators' card and let them treat me like the Golden City royalty they think I am.
"Sorry about the wait, sir," the teen says, his eyes full of awe as they trail up my frame.
"No need. Thank you for this." I take the box from him and drop a twenty in the tip jar, then turn on my heel to leave.
But I don't.
From the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar face with an unmistakable douchiness—one that's so forgettable it somehow sticks to your memory.
It belongs to a guy I would have been perfectly happy never seeing again, but at this moment, I almost have to approach.
He's at the counter against the window, seated next to a woman I already feel sorry for.
She has long blonde hair and a body eerily similar to… Tessa's.
The thought makes me laugh as I head in his direction, my feet driven by my eagerness to confront him.
"So, yeah, I threw a couple hundred on this series. The Gators are decent, but I think the Mariners will take 'em."
"Ooh, I don't know if I'd take that bet." I drop my hand on Trevor's shoulder about five seconds after drawing his date's attention by simply moving toward them. I extend my hand to her. "Liam Montgomery."
"Gabby," she says, taking it and smiling sweetly.
"Nice to meet you, Gabby." I give Trevor's arm a tight squeeze. "How's it goin' Travis?"
"Trevor."
"Ah, I knew it was something like that." I throw a wink toward the woman, who suddenly looks more relaxed—probably because I stopped her date from talking about himself. "Not a Gators fan all of a sudden, Trev? Last time I bumped into you, you were all Sunshine!"
I flash him a grin, patting his back to really nail it home. His jaw ticks as he tries to maintain his composure, but his fidgeting tells me I'm getting under his skin exactly as I'd hoped.
Guys like him are all the same—I see plenty of them on the field. They're all bark and no bite, constantly talking about their money or arm candy to cover up their shallow personalities and mediocre game. But this one made a mistake the others don't.
He used the wrong woman to make himself feel better about his shitty character and clear gambling problem.
My woman.
"How's Tessa doing?" he asks, and just like that, the little game I was playing gets a lot more real.
"Oh, she's great." I lift the box of pastries. "Actually, these are for her."
Gabby clicks her tongue, a soft aww sneaking past her lips as Trevor pulls back slightly. "Tess likes those?"
It's exactly what I needed to steady myself again. "Well," I laugh. "It's no burnt grilled cheese."
Trevor forces a chuckle to match mine before his smile fades. "So, whatchya doin' here, Liam? Trying to steal another one of my girls?"
Gabby's mouth drops open, either in offense or disbelief.
"Oh, Trevor," I drawl. "I know I've got a few years on you, but please tell me you've learned by now that women can't be stolen." I drop my hand onto the back of his chair and meet Gabby's eyes. "Because they're not property. Not Tessa… and not Gabby here either."
She cocks a brow in his direction, his face turns red, and I ready myself with the rest of my response.
Maybe it's passive aggressive. Or maybe this mentor-dad thing has seeped into too much of my life.
But if a grown man doesn't know that women need to feel seen and heard, supported and protected—all of the things I hope Ruthie's future partner knows before they ever meet her—it feels like my responsibility to teach him that lesson.
I gear up to tell him that maybe Tessa left because she got tired of waiting around for what she deserved, whether or not she even realizes what that is.
That she takes care of everyone and everything and expects nothing in return—doesn't even ask.
But that, either way, it doesn't matter. She's not his anymore. Never will be.
I open my mouth, but before the words even form, I stop myself.
I'm not letting this clown separate Tessa and me for even one more second.
I huff out a laugh, shake my head, then ruffle his hair as I would my kid's. "Later, man," I say, pushing off of the chair.
I don't wait to see his reaction as I bound toward the door. I'm halfway there when I twist back around. "Hey, Gabby," I toss over my shoulder.
She perks up, her cheeks pinker than they were before—with anger I hope. "In case you needed to hear it," I say. "You can do better."
She nods, and it's all I need.
To walk out the door.
And go get my girl.