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The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection

Page 53

by Natasha L. Black


  He looked like he was going to come up with a story, then stopped and nodded. “Yes. Vince called me after he got off the phone with Quentin and told me everything.”

  That wasn’t what I expected to hear. “When he got off the phone with Quentin? He called him first?”

  “Yeah,” Nick said. “He thought that was pretty weird, too. It didn’t even cross his mind to call me. And apparently it didn’t cross yours, either. So… hurtful. Just to put that out there.”

  I shook my head, trying to figure out what was going on. “It did cross my mind to call you, and I did. After our last conversation with the lawyer, I told Vince I would make sure he was kept up to date on everything. I figured he needed to know what happened so he could make sure Charlie knew while I was dealing with everything else. I called you right after. But why did Vince call Quentin?”

  “He remembered what you said about Grant when you were at his office.”

  “What about him?” I asked.

  “That he thought you and I were sleeping together.”

  I cringed. “Yeah. That’s never a fun conversation when he brings it up. Apparently, it’s unbecoming of a mother to have a relationship with a man who isn’t the child’s father. Especially if they only present themselves to be friends. It paints a certain image of her character.”

  Nick made a face. “He actually said that?”

  “The words are burned into my mind. I’m pretty sure they came right out of his mother’s mouth. It sounds like her. And they also sound like some of the colorful things she hurled at me this morning. She really believes a single mother should have no personal relationships with anyone. If she has separated from the father of her child, she is damaged goods. The only option is to live her life completely chastely and devoted only to mothering. Her only hope for any sort of relationship is reconciling with the father. Notice she has no such convictions about the man.”

  “It’s convenient how that works out for her son, isn’t it?” Nick asked.

  “It’s some 1950s Pleasantville bullshit is what it is,” I said.

  “That, too.”

  “I still don’t get what that has to do with Vince calling Quentin. Why does it matter if Grant thinks you and I are sleeping together?”

  “Vince thinks it’s going to be used in the case. If it looks like you cheated on Grant or that you are lying about the nature of our relationship, it could seem really bad. Fortunately, despite Beatrice’s convictions to the contrary, most people don’t think it’s a bad thing for a single mother to be in a relationship. In fact, having a good relationship with a stable, well-respected man can look really good. But even more than that, having a man near you will keep you safer,” Nick said.

  “I don’t think I’m following,” I said. “Give me just a second.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a customer who had been gesturing for my attention for a few seconds was now attempting to scramble over the bar toward the soda spigot. I nudged the other bartender as I walked past, jostling her from flirting with a guy. A soda and an admonishment later, I was back at Nick, asking him to explain what was going on.

  “Grant has never been a violent guy. You know that. And I told Vince that. But he’s not completely convinced he won’t try something. He wants to keep you safe. He also wants to give the image of you having a stable, secure life that would be good for raising a child.”

  “Do I not?” I asked, somewhat offended by the comment.

  “You do. But he wants you to have a support system and an image that isn’t already tarnished by how Grant sees our relationship. So, he has officially swapped himself for me.”

  “He swapped?” I asked.

  “Yep. He says you and I shouldn’t be seen in public together so much, and that he will take over. Of course, he couldn’t exactly do that tonight since he is not in town. So, Quentin and I are stand-ins.”

  The whole situation was confusing and overwhelming, but I decided to take it for face value and be glad I had them. In all honesty, I didn’t expect to see Grant. Pride was his strongest personality trait, and he hated anything even close to embarrassment. After the way his mother behaved and the humiliation of the police getting involved, I doubted he would show his face around here for a while.

  Even feeling that way, there was a tingling of unease on the back of my neck all night. The evening moved slowly, even with the customers constantly coming in. Despite all of Merry’s excitement about getting out for a while, she didn’t last long. After less than two hours, she was tired and missed the baby too much to stay. She hugged me tight and headed home.

  Quentin came back after dropping her off, but only stayed for another two hours himself. Then it was Nick and me. I was glad he stayed until closing just to keep me company. Even if nothing else was going to happen that night, I didn’t want to be alone. I already felt so isolated.

  When the bar finally closed and the last of the customers left, we lingered while the staff cleaned up. After locking up, I walked with Nick out to his car. I kissed his cheek good night, and he shook his head.

  “Wrong brother. You have to kiss Vince now,” he said, then grinned. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

  I shook my head. That wasn’t happening. I wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation to pursue my crush.

  19

  Vince

  “How long is the turnaround time for a fully customized bike?” the man in front of me asked.

  He’d been hovering near the booth advertising the customized bike service for almost half an hour. The product of one of Kelly and Dad’s most recent projects sat out in front, allowing people to see the work for themselves. He circled around it like a 4-H judge examining a prize cow. A few times, he looked up at me like he wanted to make sure I was watching him. Each time, I smiled but didn’t say anything.

  This wasn’t all that unusual for the service. People were interested and wanted to know more about it. But often when they learned how much of an investment this type of project was, they knew they couldn’t afford it. Then there was that awkward moment of dancing around. They didn’t want to just say they weren’t in the market to pay that much, so they kept acting like they were interested.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I asked.

  The man looked at me from the other side of the bike, his eyebrow raised. “I asked what the turnaround time is for a bike. I’m getting married and would love to have a bike made for my bride and me to ride away from our reception on. Then another one to give her as a wedding gift to bring on our honeymoon. But I need to make sure they would be ready by the wedding.”

  I pushed the thoughts distracting me out of my mind and focused on the man in front of me. “It all depends on the specifics you want for each one. If you want something completely built for you from the ground up or retrofitting existing machines. Also what type of parts are needed and how easily they are sourced. Some of these projects take a few months to complete once everything is settled.”

  The man nodded. “My wedding is next summer. That should probably give me the time, right?”

  “I would think so.” I pulled out my father’s business card and handed it to him. “Gus Freeman is my father. He heads up most of the customization efforts. Give him a call and the two of you can get started. Here, take some of these brochures and look through them. Kelly’s work is incredible, and I’m sure she’ll be able to give you exactly what you want for your wedding.”

  The man took the card and the brochures, shook my hand, and walked away. I watched after him, looking forward to seeing what Dad and Kelly came up with for him, but also feeling a little guilty about my disinterest and immediately negative response to him.

  All I could think about was Lindsey and how worried I was about her. Even with Nick reassuring me that Grant was never a violent man, I felt uneasy. People did unexpected things when they felt threatened all the time. Just because he had never been violent before didn’t mean he wouldn’t change his ways when backed int
o a corner. It didn’t even have to be direct violence to Lindsey in order to be a threat. He could damage her car or her business. He could go after her reputation and try to ruin her bar. His mother showing up at her apartment only showed they had no respect for her personal space and could go after her there again.

  Checking my phone, I read the updates from Quentin. Nick was there at the bar with him, which I should have expected. He wasn’t going to just stop spending time with Lindsey, especially if I wasn’t there. It was reassuring to know both men were keeping an eye out. Nick and I had already agreed we weren’t going to tell anybody else about what was going on with Lindsey until she was ready to do so herself.

  It might have been easier to rally even more of a support system around her if she was open with everybody, but that was her choice to make. Up until now, she was insistent about keeping Remy and conflict with Grant out of general public knowledge. It wasn’t up to us to reveal it to anyone else. At some point, she would be ready, and when she was, we would all be there for her. At least I could be grateful my brothers were willing to do things for each other no questions asked.

  The block party went even better than we hoped, and by the time we were wrapping up, all the merchandise had sold out. There were still lines at the beer truck, and the food vendors had already packed up because they’d run out of ingredients. Our fans were ready for the race and buzzing with excitement as they headed for their seats in the stands. I lingered back long enough to make sure the cleanup efforts were underway before going down to the pit.

  It was strange being there without Quentin. He was always so enthusiastic and excited at the races. He had gone home from the bar by the time the bikes were taking their last laps. I decided to call him and pull up a video chat so he could at least watch some of the race. Earbuds in to make sure the loud sound of the race didn’t filter out of his phone and disrupt the baby, he watched gleefully.

  I was still preoccupied as hell, but the adrenaline rush of the end of the race drew me in. Darren zipped over the line second, and we all cheered and took off to the finish line to celebrate with him. Greg hugged him tight, the emotion on his face obvious. He hated not being out there. The team needed him, and he wanted it for himself. But he needed to heal. If he took his time and put in the work, he would get there. We were hoping to have him back out on the track by the end of the season.

  While the crew cleaned up the pit and started packing up the gear, I watched the finish line celebration for Darren. He accepted the silly giant novelty check and the garland of flowers they draped around his neck like a horse. Tonight’s race was just the beginning. There were two more events the next day and a last on Sunday before we headed home. They didn’t all have prize money hanging in the balance, but they were going to be fun. Darren was glad to have snatched some of the pot while he had the chance.

  “Where are we going to celebrate?” he asked when the track party was over and everyone started to dissipate.

  A couple of the crew members were more familiar with the area than we were and suggested a nearby bar. We all piled into cars and headed over. It felt strange going to a different bar for an after-race celebration. Almost like we were betraying Lindsey’s place. But Darren reassured me she would give us her blessing, as long as we made sure to make it up to the bar when we got back home.

  The celebration was fun, but Saturday morning was a reminder of why I hadn’t done much drinking recently. I woke up hungover for the first time in almost a year and didn’t want to move. Eventually, I hit the snooze as many times as I could realistically get away with and sluggishly dragged myself out of bed. A shower cut through some of the fog and woke me up a bit. It was enough to get me to the room service menu so I could order breakfast.

  Nothing helped to overcome a pounding, world-swirling hangover like a big, fatty breakfast and several cups of coffee. The pile of eggs, bacon, hash browns, sausage, and grits helped some, but I was still nursing a cup of coffee on my way to that morning’s team meeting.

  As soon as I walked into the hotel’s conference room, Darren and Kelly looked at my face and the cup of coffee in my hand. Both burst out laughing. I glared at them as I sat down. Somehow or another, I would get back at my baby brother when we got home.

  Packed full of races, appearances, and networking, the day flew by. Even though I shouldn’t have been on my phone, I couldn’t help myself. Every few minutes, I checked for more updates. Lindsey probably wouldn’t call me again. She was upset she had to call while I was away at all. Now that she knew I had Quentin watching over her, she probably wouldn’t reach out. But I didn’t want the possibility of missing a call or message.

  By the middle of the race, the rain started to fall. It wasn’t a gentle sprinkle. Instead, the sky split open and an immediate deluge dropped down over us. Utter chaos ensued. Women and children screamed as they ran for cover. Men cussed and sputtered as they tried to cover up their beer and gather everything left behind.

  Within an hour, the rest of the festivities for the weekend were officially canceled. The forecast called for continuous rain and dangerous winds, making the next day’s outdoor events impossible. I was disappointed for the riders and the fans, but I was also secretly relieved. It meant we could pack up and head home that night rather than waiting until Sunday night.

  The intensity of the storm kept us from leaving right away, and I was still on the road at midnight when I got a text from Quentin.

  Grant was at the bar.

  20

  Lindsey

  “I don’t want to hear it. It’s delicious,” Quentin said.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Nick said, holding back a laugh. “In fact, I admire a man who is comfortable enough to order a pink drink with a fruit garnish when he goes into a bar.”

  I laughed and shook my head at him. Quentin went right back to sipping the frilly mixed cocktail I recognized as one of Merry’s favorite drinks from when she first started coming into the bar. He must have tried one of hers once and gotten a taste for it.

  A good beer was a thing of beauty, but something sweet and fruity every now and then was exactly how Quentin described it. Delicious.

  And I couldn’t deny it was funny seeing one of those drinks clutched in the hand of a big man like Quentin. He came into the bar with Nick early on Saturday and announced he was in it for the long haul. Merry was enjoying a night of being pampered by Minnie and Kelly at the Freeman parents’ house, so Quentin had the whole night open. He was there to fulfill his bodyguard responsibilities.

  The situation wasn’t funny, but I couldn’t help but laugh when he announced himself that way. After Friday went by without a hitch, I was even more confident on Saturday. I figured Grant wasn’t going to show up. Even if he did want to get back at me or confront me about what was going on, it wasn’t going to happen at the bar. Maybe he actually was going to try to go the route of the decent human being.

  I should have known better.

  Just before midnight, the door to the bar slammed open so hard it hit the porch railing just outside. Everyone turned toward it, and my stomach sank as Grant stalked in. He looked around like he was waiting for everyone to bow down to him. He’d picked a truly terrible time to show up. Not only because the people who tended to come into my bar had no intention of bowing down to anybody, but also because Grant wasn’t great at thinking for himself.

  He was on his own. Facing off against a packed bar that included Quentin, Nick, and Darren’s best friend, Colby, he was more than outnumbered. Within his first few steps inside the bar, his arrogant expression melted as he realized how out-of-place he was. He looked around and noticed me, then made a beeline for the bar. I stood my ground. There was no way I would show any discomfort or back down to him in my own space.

  I glanced over at Nick, who slid his eyes to his brother beside him. Quentin made a face, put down his drink, and reached for his phone. Nick followed suit, and I gave them a slight nod. At least I knew whatever Grant had in m
ind, there would be proof of it happening. I squared my shoulders to my ex, wanting him to see I had no hesitation, no fear.

  “What are you doing here, Grant?” I asked.

  He looked at me strangely, like he didn’t understand what I was asking him, then said something. The crowd was so loud, I couldn’t make out everything he said. I caught “mother” and “lawyer,” which instantly put me on guard. Now was not the time for him to start screaming out our business to everybody in the bar. These people didn’t know who Grant was or that I had a little boy I was fighting to raise. And though it was none of their business, I still didn’t want it broadcast this way.

  I stomped toward the other side of the bar, gesturing for him to follow me. There was a quieter corner where the music wasn’t as loud, and I had a better chance of hearing him. There was no way in hell I would take him to my quiet office where I would be alone with him without witnesses.

  “Don’t be mad at my mother for what she did,” Grant said as soon as he got in front of me.

  I stared at him incredulously. “Seriously? Are you genuinely coming here to my place of business to instruct me on how to feel about a woman coming to my home and screaming at me about what an awful person she thinks I am and how unfit I am to raise my son?”

  “She was upset,” Grant said like that excused everything she possibly could have done.

  “She was upset? You’re concerned about your mother being upset? How about me being upset that I had just gone to sleep and got woken up by someone pounding on the door so hard it sounded like my house was coming down around me?”

  Grant scoffed. “Don’t be so dramatic. My mother is a refined woman. She’s never behaved that way in her life. I doubt she would be able to pound that hard on a door if she tried.”

  “Then you are gravely mistaken about how well you know your mother. You can speak to any number of my neighbors who she also woke up and terrified. Go ahead and talk to the police who took the reports from all of them and me. They’ll let you know what she was completely out of control and disrupting the entire neighborhood,” I said.

 

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