The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection

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The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection Page 13

by Natasha L. Black


  I needed to talk to Merry. I knew what I’d said to her and what she was probably thinking. It wouldn’t be easy to have the conversation we needed to have, but it had to be done. I had never been good at secrets, and I wasn’t about to let this one ruin my life. We needed to talk it out and figure out how we were really going to handle it.

  Resolute in what we needed to do, I headed to Merry’s office. She was inside packing up her go-to bag of electronics.

  “Hey,” I said as I walked through the open door.

  She looked up at me with a guarded expression.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “We need to talk,” I told her.

  She nodded but didn’t stop loading her bag.

  “Okay, but I really can’t right now,” she said.

  “You can’t right now?” I asked, a little surprised.

  She nodded again as she added a file folder and notebook into her bag and slipped it over her shoulder.

  “Brandon is waiting for me. We have to get down to the track and start setting up for the tailgate event. There’s a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. Since we weren’t able to go there over the weekend or earlier this week and look over everything to try to figure out the logistics of setting up, it’s going to be more of a crunch to get ready before the fans get there,” she said.

  She headed out of her office, and I fell into step beside her.

  “Merry, this is really serious. We have to talk about what happened,” I said.

  “I thought we agreed that was over and done with, and behind us,” she said.

  “We did, but I’ve been thinking about it, and that’s just not going to be possible,” I told her.

  “I’m sorry, Quentin, but I really can’t talk about this right now. I need to get to the track, get everything set up, and make sure the party goes well. You should be thinking about that, too. You know the fans are coming out to see the team,” she said.

  Before I could say any more, we walked outside, and Brandon was standing there waiting for her. He smiled broadly and came toward us.

  “Hey, sis. Hey, Quentin,” he said.

  “Hi, Brandon,” I said. “Settling in all right?”

  “Yes. It’s been great so far. Thanks. Are you excited about the race tonight?” he asked.

  “Absolutely,” I told him. “In fact, your sister and I were just talking about the tailgate party.”

  “It should be fun. I’m really looking forward to the whole thing,” he said.

  “We should actually get going,” Merry said. “We don’t have any time to waste. See you there, Quentin.”

  She hurried away with her brother scurrying to catch up with her. He leaned in close to mutter something to her that I couldn’t hear, but all she did was shake her head and keep rushing toward the parking lot. I watched her go, knowing I couldn’t just let this drop. It was going to push me over the edge if I kept trying to just go on like nothing happened.

  It was almost three hours later when I managed to get near Merry again. I stayed behind at the complex for a while after she left to finish up what needed to be done and help load everything on the trucks. By the time we got to the track, we had little time to unload and get to the tailgate. As soon as we arrived, we were swept up into the fun, which was just what we all wanted. She had really done an exceptional job putting everything together, and I was impressed from the local food truck cooking to one side with the DJ playing music, to the merchandise stand and the areas set up for the team to take pictures and sign autographs. I made my appearance and did what I needed to do, then caught sight of her lingering by herself near the merchandise table.

  Moving quickly, I got to the table and reached out to touch her arm.

  “Merry, we need to talk,” I said. “The party is in full swing, and everyone is doing great. We can talk for a few minutes before we need to get down to the track.”

  She looked like she was trying to come up with an excuse to get away from me again, but when nothing came to mind, she gave a reluctant nod.

  “All right,” she said.

  “Let’s go to the company box. There won’t be anybody there yet,” I said.

  I walked away from the crowd with Merry by my side and knowing I had only a few minutes to figure out exactly what I was going to say to her when we got to the box.

  24

  Merry

  “I don’t think I can keep doing this,” Quentin said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Do what?”

  “I can’t keep pretending nothing happened between us,” he started.

  “But that’s what we said we were going to do,” I cut him off. “As soon as it happened, we both knew it was a mistake and we needed to move past it. We agreed to just pretend it didn’t happen so we could keep going without there being any awkwardness.”

  I felt like I was getting shrill and knew I was repeating myself. He wasn’t looking convinced, and maybe if I just reiterated the same things over and over, they’d sink in and we could just head back to the event for a convivial hamburger and soda before the race. As soon as I stopped talking, though, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. There were still words on his lips, and I wasn’t going to get out of hearing them.

  “I thought I was going to be able to do that, but I can’t. My family is extremely close, and I don’t keep things from them. It’s especially hard to do that in this particular situation considering we work together and most of my family is there with us,” he said.

  “So, what do you want to do?” I asked. “Put out a bulletin in the company newsletter that we had sex in my office?”

  “I don’t think it needs to go that far,” he said. “I know this isn’t the easiest situation for you, either. But just hear me out. We don’t need to present it as we just got swept up and made an impulsive decision. Instead, we put a spin on it.”

  “A spin?” I asked.

  “Yes. We say we had a fling. Present it as there was something there and we made an intentional decision to spend time together, but then we both realized it wasn’t going to go anywhere, so we let it drop. It’s not a big deal, and we’re perfectly fine with each other. There aren’t any hard feelings or issues between us,” he said. “We just get it all out in the open, and that way we’re not trying to hide anything or going behind anybody’s back.”

  I thought about that for a few seconds. That actually didn’t sound so bad. But there were still some sticky questions that needed to be managed.

  “Isn’t that going to cause problems, though? The boss sleeping with his employee? Even if it was a fling?” I asked.

  Quentin shook his head.

  “No. The company doesn’t have any rules about fraternization. That’s actually a throwback to when my father owned it. He always had the joke that because he owned the company and was married to the woman who did the hiring, he couldn’t have rules against intra-office relationships because then he’d have to fire himself since he certainly wasn’t going to stop fraternizing with his wife.”

  Finally, I nodded.

  “That could definitely work,” I agreed. “I’ve actually been wanting to tell my best friend about it, just because like you said, I didn’t want to just have it all locked up inside. But I decided against it because I didn’t really know how it would come across. But if we’re going to put that spin on it, then it’s fine.”

  We talked for another few seconds, then headed back. I felt better as we walked together toward the party, ready to send the team off to prepare for the race to begin. There was a strange sense of weight being lifted off of me. Up until that moment, I didn’t realize the situation was bothering me any more than just being shocked and a little dismayed by my own decision making. It didn’t occur to me that not being able to talk to anyone about it was a problem. Not talking to Olivia was unusual, but only because I talked to her about everything.

  Now that Quentin and I had talked, though, I realized it was getting to me more than I would have expected
. Having a way to talk about it openly, and just knowing what to say about it if anyone was to confront me about it, seemed like it would help. At least now I was prepared and not in some strange middle ground where my official stance was that it just didn’t happen at all. Really thinking about it, that all felt a bit too UFO-classified-files to me, and it was much more natural to be able to tell people without the weirdness.

  It was also a relief just to hear him say we weren’t breaking any rules. I’d never worked for a company that didn’t clearly and intensely lay out restrictions for employees dating, especially if it involved people at different levels of the hierarchy. That’s what scared me the most and hearing they didn’t have those regulations put my mind at ease. We didn’t do anything against policy, which meant he didn’t have to choose between firing me or giving me preferential treatment, either of which would be awkward.

  After the emotion, tension, and eventual tremendous relief of the talk with Quentin, I didn’t have nearly as much anticipation for the race. Watching dozens of motorcycles fly around the track didn’t have the same excitement and adrenaline as getting things out in the open and finalizing that things were really going to work out. That almost felt like an afterthought. Especially when it got right down to the performance of the team.

  The first race of the season was almost overwhelming. I’d never watched anything like that and felt right on the edge from the second the engines roared, and the bikes took off from the starting line. Darren and Greg were almost flawless in their runs and battled to the very end, creating an almost painful amount of anticipation that kept me on my feet.

  It didn’t feel like that this time. It was still exciting, and I cheered them on from my spot in between Minnie and Brandon, but there was definitely something off about this run. Greg performed well, his bike obviously improved and his confidence even stronger this time. He shot out to the front right from the beginning, only trailing Darren. At first it seemed there would be no competition. These two would simply glide to the finish and it would be done.

  Then the other teams started gaining on them. Rather than there being a clearly defined ranking, there was a crush of bikes shifting up and down as they spiraled around the track. After several laps, Greg came out in front again. Darren slid up behind him, and another two teams gained on them. Darren and Greg both inched ahead, and for the next several laps, there was little change. It looked like they were just riding around in circles. As the final stretch of the race approached, I left the company box and headed down toward the rest of the team. Using credentials Gus gave to me earlier, I got into the secure area and went to join the others waiting for the end. It was obvious our two riders were going to come out on top, and I wanted to be as close as possible to capture the victory.

  Then something suddenly changed. Greg and Darren were jockeying for first place when a bike came up behind Darren and swerved too close. He shifted to get out of the way, but the positioning was too tight, and the rider clipped his tire. He managed to stay upright but slid across the track, allowing Greg to jump forward and losing valuable seconds. I snapped picture after picture of Greg winning first position but gasped as Darren toppled, the wreck shoving him over the line in fifth place.

  Quentin and the rest of the team ran toward him, but when I saw him get up and let out an angry yell, I knew he was all right. I needed to turn my attention to the celebration at the finish line. I live-tweeted the excitement, capturing as much of Greg’s thrill at his first win as I could while people rushed in around him to congratulate him. After a few seconds, Darren, Quentin, and the rest of the team joined us. Darren graciously congratulated Greg, but I could tell he was furious.

  When some of the chaos died down, I went over to Darren. Patting my friend on the back, I leaned in so he would be able to hear me.

  “You doing okay?” I asked. “That looked like a nasty skid.”

  “I’m all right,” he said. “I’ll probably be sore as hell for the next few days, but it looked worse than it was. I’m just pissed I lost my position because of that asshole. That wreck was totally Austin’s fault. It wasn’t even a mistake. It was just really bad riding. He could have killed someone out there just because he doesn’t know how to control himself.”

  “I’m sorry. Hopefully he learns his lesson.”

  When the post-race celebration died down, Brandon and I headed home, dissecting the race and everything that happened. I didn’t let him know how I was feeling. He’d enjoyed the experience, so I didn’t want to dampen his spirits by letting him know how anticlimactic the race seemed.

  25

  Quentin

  The team went to the bar to celebrate Greg’s win, but didn’t have the same energy as the first race. Even Greg didn’t seem as interested in being there as before. He was much more interested in going home and getting some rest. He’d put himself through the wringer trying to get ready for this race, now that it was over and he accomplished his goal, he wanted some downtime. Instead of us staying out late and not starting work until after lunch the next day, I decided to trim down the rest of the week. As soon as I got home after the brief celebration at the bar, I sent out a group text to everyone on the crew letting them know we were going to take half days on both Thursday and Friday. That would give us time to do the usual post-race evaluations but let us get in some relaxation as well.

  Thursday was almost methodical. I hadn’t bothered to unload the trucks after the race, so we spent the first couple of hours after getting into the complex breaking down and getting everything put away. I then met with Greg to personally congratulate him and talk about what was next. He was already looking ahead to the next race but was happy to have a couple of days where there wasn’t as much pressure. He looked forward to spending Thursday morning cleaning his bike and going over maintenance and repair needs with the team of mechanics, then planned to spend Friday meeting with a physical trainer at the complex gym. Now that he felt his bike was in peak condition, he wanted to focus on his body. Doing CrossFit like Darren didn’t appeal to Greg. He was much more the traditional cardio and weight training type. But that’s why I kept several different physical trainers on retainer. It meant anyone on the team, but especially the riders, could make sure they were taking care of their health.

  Next, I checked in on Darren. I found him just like I had after the first race, standing in the middle of the garage surrounded by the parts of his dismantled bike.

  “Wow,” I said. “Twice in a row. Getting serious this time.”

  “The wreck did a little bit of damage,” he said. “And I want to see if there’s anything that can be done to stabilize it more. I thought the modifications we made after last race would make it safer and more responsive, but apparently not so much.”

  “You know that wreck wasn’t your fault. And the fact that you stayed up for as long as you did and didn’t completely get smashed tells me the bike was performing well,” I told him.

  He nodded. I knew he was upset about his performance, and it would take him some time for the physical and emotional effects of it to go away. All I could do was support him.

  The next day I finished up some administrative work and then headed to Cole’s place. When I pulled into the driveway with lunch, I got a text telling me to come around to the back. This was the first time I’d seen the new place he got when he came back from Tibet, and I instantly saw what he liked about it. The house and the land around it was exactly what I would have pinpointed for him. It wasn’t lost on me, though, that instead of choosing an apartment or something small just for him, he’d immediately chosen a house with plenty of space for a family. That was Cole. Even with the bad experience with his wife, he hadn’t lost sight of the future and the possibility of someone sharing it.

  When I walked through the big wooden gate leading into the backyard, I immediately saw the house wasn’t the only new thing in Cole’s life. He was running around with a tiny yellow puppy, laughing as he threw a ball and the puppy went
after it with all his legs seeming to go in different directions.

  “Hey,” he called when he saw me.

  We went up to the porch and spread out the food on a table with a blue-and-white striped umbrella to block the sun.

  “I see you have a new friend,” I said when he dropped into the seat across from me.

  “Yeah. I just adopted him. I didn’t even mean to. That pet supply store by the supermarket was having an adoption day and he was sitting out front when I went to grab a few things. I couldn’t resist him.”

  Trying not to be too obvious about it, I evaluated my best friend. He looked calm and happy. It was a major improvement from the time right after the divorce when it seemed like he was going to fall apart at any moment. It was really good to have him home. There were times during those six months when I honestly thought he might not ever make it back. I hated feeling so helpless at that time, not being able to do anything to make him feel better.

  It wasn’t just that I didn’t have the personal insight and experience. I definitely didn’t. I’d never been through something even close to a divorce, so I didn’t know how he felt and what might make it easier for him. But it was more than that. Just like he said, Cole needed to find himself again. He needed to figure out who he was and how he was going to move forward without his wife. That was something he had to do on his own, and there was nothing I could do to make it any better. My only option was to make sure he knew I was there for him and would be when he made it back home.

  We talked about the puppy for a few more minutes, and then he asked about the race.

  “It was kind of a mess, to be honest,” I told him. “I mean, Greg did awesome. He came in first, and it was a really smooth race for him. But some other teams were really aggressive, and one rider caused a wreck for Darren.”

 

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