Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Decker already knew. “You need to get home.” His voice sounded dull, but only because he was trying to keep the panic out of it. It wasn’t her fault. None of this was. But he couldn’t be left with a child that wasn’t his. “The results should be in any minute.”
“I’ll wait, of course,” Cady said. “If she’s not yours, I’ll keep her. But if she is—”
“I’ll take care of her.” He didn’t know how. He didn’t even know what it meant. But that conversation belonged in a whole different box. One step at a time.
“Go sit down, honey,” Ava said. “We’ve got Birdie.”
Cady looked to Decker for approval, and he nodded.
Ava patted his shoulder. “Go talk to your dad.” Then, she ducked under the tablecloth. “Can I have a turn with the flashlight?”
Just before the cloth lowered, he made sure to catch his former nanny's eye. His entire life, this woman had saved him in ways she didn’t even know. He appreciated her. When she gave a warm smile that said, “I got you,” he headed out front.
“Where’re you going?” Boone asked.
“I need some air.” Normally, they sat out back. His dad had built a patio with a built-in grill. But he needed to see the driveway. In case Willa showed up.
Not that he’d tell them that.
Once on the porch, he dropped into a big rocking chair. His dad and brothers filed out behind him, two of them taking the chairs on either side of him, Wyatt perching his ass on the railing in front.
The way they did it without thinking—flanking him, hemming him in like they could keep the worst of it away—stirred something deep inside him.
And he needed it. Christ, he needed it.
Because his life had just blown wide open—his ankle wrecked with his season two months out and a little girl who might be his.
He dragged a hand down his face, trying to get a handle on it, but there was no handling this. Not really.
Because even with them all around him, nobody could tell him how the hell he was supposed to lead his team and show up for a three-year-old at the same time.
Breathe.
You don’t know if she’s yours yet.
One step at a time.
Late-afternoon sun filtered through the pines. Now that the storm had moved through, the Tetons sat right there against the sky, edges like cut glass. The gravel drive still held puddles, and the air smelled like wet dirt and sap.
“How’d it work out at the rehab center?” his dad asked in his deep, gravelly voice.
Decker checked his phone, even though he hadn’t heard it buzz. “It was good. I like it there. State of the art.” Nothing new from Willa.
“Good,” his dad said. “Because you might be staying in town longer than you expected.”
“I can't do that.” A flicker of fear shot up his spine. He couldn’t afford time off. He glanced at the damn boot. But here we are. “I can’t build timing from Wyoming.” He shifted his booted foot, flexing his ankle inside the brace.
“Might make sense anyway,” his dad said. “You don’t want the press catching you wearing it.”
“Not much I can do about that.” Decker rubbed the back of his neck. “But if the kid’s mine, I could take a few days to get things squared away with her.”
“What’s that going to look like?” Wyatt asked. “Getting things ‘squared away’?”
“I don’t have a damn clue,” Decker said quietly. “I’m not like Jude. I can't give everything up for this kid.”
Boone held his gaze. “Jude would tell you Cody’s the best thing that ever happened to him.”
“Maybe.” Decker leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“But I’m twenty-seven. I’m the starting quarterback, and I've got a locker room depending on me and a contract to honor.” But they were wasting time talking about why the timing wasn’t right.
“It’s not the same for me. Besides, plenty of guys have kids. They make it work.”
But most guys aren’t trying to carry a franchise on one shoulder and a three-year-old on the other.
“I’m asking how,” Wyatt said. “Specifically.”
“I’ll hire help. A good nanny. A chef. Whatever it takes to give her structure and stability.”
“Your kid doesn’t have a mother,” Wyatt said. “And she doesn’t know you from Adam.” His brother wasn’t rude. He wasn’t even condescending. He was just stating facts.
“I know that.” Decker shot out of his rocker. Did he, though? Did he really get the girl’s situation, or was he too locked up in how this situation affected him? “But I’m also not walking away from my career. The season starts in two months. My job is to lead that team.” He glanced at the driveway.
Where’s Willa?
Is she coming?
“The point is that she’s three,” Wyatt said. “And she’s got no emotional anchor.”
“I’m not abandoning her. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of. Safe home. Stability. Whatever she needs.”
“But will she have you?” Wyatt asked quietly.
“Fuck.” Decker crossed his arms, lowered his chin, and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll be there the best I can.”
“Well, in any event, while you’re figuring things out, you can stay in Jude’s guest room,” Wyatt said.
“Cody’ll lose his mind having another kid around,” Boone said.
It was the best situation, so why did Decker bristle at the thought?
His dad must’ve sensed his unease because he said, “Or you can stay here.”
“Not without power,” Boone said. “But in any event, you’ve got options.”
Wyatt shook his head. “Not with me. Silverstream’s barely big enough for one grown man, let alone two and a toddler.”
Boone lifted a hand. “Not me, either. I live with four dudes. Trust me, that place is not preschool-friendly.”
Then, sunlight glinted off metal, and a car rounded the bend. Tires crunched over gravel.
It was a taxi, though. Not Willa.
Who then?
At the exact same moment, his phone buzzed. He checked the screen, and his stomach dropped.
Premier Concierge Medical: Your lab results are available. Please log in to your secure portal to view.
“It’s here.” His voice came out choked. “The report.”
His brothers got up and gathered around him.
As he logged in, he heard brakes squeaking. “Come on.” The Wi-Fi wasn’t the best out there, but it was serviceable.
The door slammed, and the car took off. When he looked up, he found Willa watching him with concern.
She’s here.
He took his first full breath in too long.
“Hey.” She waved, then gestured to the retreating car. “I took a cab in case my dad needs his truck. How’s it going, McKenna boys?” She climbed the steps, but her gaze narrowed on him. “You got the results?”
“Right now.” The document appeared on his screen.
DNA Paternity Test Report
And then in bold, right there at the top of the page: Probability of paternity: 99.7%
“She’s mine.” Decker cradled the back of his head with clasped hands. The words didn’t feel real. This was someone else’s story. Not his. “What the fuck am I going to do?”
His brothers, his dad…they were all talking at once—bedrooms, space, schedules, who could help when. His family was awesome. And when he stopped panicking, he’d appreciate them.
That time was not now.
Cady came out of the house with Birdie. “Well?”
“She’s his,” Ava said. “You were right.”
“Yeah, I knew it,” Cady said. “Had to be.”
Gunnar’s hand came down on his shoulder. “It’s all right. We’ve got you.”
“Remember, we’re here,” Wyatt said, steady, confident. “Anything you need.”
He didn’t know what he needed. He just needed to get out of there.
“There’s no power here, so we’ll have to find you a place for the night,” Ava said.
“I’ll call Glen,” his dad said. “Get the custody sorted.”
“Is he a family attorney?” Wyatt asked.
Everyone started talking again—offers, plans, suggestions.
He couldn’t process any of it. His brain wasn’t working. He needed to get out of there. But first, he had to handle Cady’s situation. “What do you need right now? Can you stay a few days, help with the transition?”
“I’m so sorry. I can’t.”
“It’s all right. I get it.” But it was too soon. How was this child going to be left with an entire family of strangers? “Is she going to be okay with me? With us?” Stupid question. What else could they do? But what a crappy situation for the kid.
“She’s pretty resilient.” Cady’s hand went to her belly. “I wish I could do more.”
“You did the most important thing,” Ava said. “You brought her home.”
“We have to get the car seat out of Cady’s car.” Willa was already on the move.
“What’s she doing here?” Boone asked. “Did she think Finlay and Jude were here?”
“She’s here for me.”
A car door slammed, and Willa held up the seat. She went right to his rental, and Cady helped her put it in.
“I’ll go to the store,” Ava said. “Get her the basics. Pajamas, swimsuit, some toys.”
Through the noise filling his head and the rumble of anxiety locking up his body, a clear path emerged.
“No.” He heard his tone and immediately turned to the woman who was such an integral part of his family.
“I’m sorry. But let’s hold off on buying her shit.
” He addressed his brothers and dad. “I’m keeping her at the inn for now. She doesn’t need another change.”
“It’s been one night,” Boone said.
“Two. That’s where Cady’s been staying. But there’s no need to move her again, especially if she’s coming to LA with me in a few weeks.”
Willa stood at the bottom of the porch stairs. “A few weeks?”
Their gazes locked, understanding settling in. They were both staying in town.
Yes.
Fuck, yes.
He didn’t know why he needed her in particular, but he did.
“You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need.” Willa said it for his family’s sake.
He knew that because he could read her so well. And they both knew there was nowhere he’d rather be than with her.
“We’ll stop by Bazoo’s on the way home.” Willa climbed the stairs and reached for Birdie. “Get some fun stuff for us to do together.”
But the normally sassy little girl went quiet, her eyes darting from one stranger to the other, finally landing on Cady. She had to know change was coming. “My Fifi.” She clutched her arms across her chest.
“She keeps saying that,” Cady said. “I don’t know what she means.”