by Jane Anthony
“Not as much as my mom does.” She settles back into the couch before adding, “She loves you, too, you know.”
“Shay, clean up this mess and bring it upstairs, okay?” Ainsley’s voice from behind us startles me, and I wonder how long she’s been standing there. An old man groan escapes my chest as I push myself off the couch. All this sitting around is prematurely aging me.
Shay listens to her mother and sweeps all the paper into a pile and shoves the crayons back in the box. She breezes by us, disappearing down the hall. Taking advantage of our brief moment alone, I pull Ainsley against me. The delicious smell of her skin makes me hungry for more than just turkey.
“By the way, Happy Thanksgiving, big guy.” Her breath tickles my neck, and my jeans begin to tighten. I silently remind my dick that it’s not playtime. Not only is there a kid in the house, but Ainsley’s parents are on their way over. As if that’s not enough of a buzzkill, she still has me idling on yellow.
“Right back at ya, sweets.”
My hands roll down her back. Her burnt orange sweater is soft to the touch, and the color is an amazing accent to her chocolate eyes. Delicate curls frame her face. She always tries to tame it down, but I love when her hair is wild like this. I want nothing more than to brush it back and lay a kiss on her pink lips that would transform us back from limbo to lovers, but before I get the chance, the doorbell rings. It’s showtime.
Ainsley stays wrapped in my embrace, pushing herself up on tiptoes and plants a kiss on my freshly shaven chin. “Here we go.” She untangles herself and jaunts off to answer the door. I stay leaned against the wall in the family room.
Voices filter in from the foyer, and footsteps scuffle on the hardwood floor. I uncross my arms and shove my hands in my pockets. Why am I so nervous? I have no trouble shaking my ass in front of millions of screaming fans, but standing here in Ainsley’s living room, I’m attacked by a serious case of stage fright.
Ainsley returns to the family room, followed by a woman so identical to her, I have to blink twice. They have the same slight build, deep chocolate eyes, and pouty little lips, except her mother’s are turned down in an accurately lined red scowl.
“Ainsley, dear, this hair.” She starts smoothing down Ainsley’s wild tendrils. Meanwhile, her own short, curly bob is sculpted and shellacked into place neat and precise. The severe crease in her dress pants sends a chill down my spine. She reminds me of my father.
Ainsley slaps her mother’s hand away like she’s swatting a fly and leans in closer to her dad. “Kade, these are my parents, Carol and John Romano.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Romano, it’s nice to meet you.” I extend my hand, and her father shakes it.
Her old man is quite the opposite of his wife. His silver hair and beard are combed neat, but not too neat. He stands casually in his polo shirt and jeans with his arm around his daughter and nothing but pride in his rich dark eyes. I see the same look in Ainsley every time she looks at Shay. She may look just like her mother, but she’s daddy’s little girl all the way.
“Glad to meet you, Kade, but call me John. Mr. Romano is my dad.”
“What’s this Mr. Romano crap?” We’re interrupted by a gravelly voice followed by an elderly man with a cane shuffling into the family room. “Bill Romano, good to meet ya, son.” He rests on his cane and offers me his free hand. “Big fucker, ain’t ya?”
“Pop!” Ainsley’s eyes go wide, but so does her smile. “Excuse my grandfather, he has no filter.”
“Who needs a filter when you’re eighty?” I shake his waiting hand and smile. I like the guy already. “Well, where am I sittin’?”
“Come on, Pop. You can sit at the table. Dinner’s almost ready.”
I trail behind as the family follows Ainsley into the dining room. Her dad and grandfather seem pretty cool, but the fact that her mother didn’t say two words to me does not go unnoticed.
CHAPTER 42
Ainsley
“EVERYTHING WAS DELICIOUS, sweetheart. I’m stuffed.” My father leans back in his chair, rubbing his round belly. He says he’s done, but that’s his tell. I guarantee he’ll fit at least two pieces of pie down his throat before the day is over.
The table is scattered with empty plates and half-full serving dishes. It boggles my mind how it takes two days to prepare the meal, but only thirty minutes to pick it clean. “Shay, come help.” I rise from the table and start gathering bowls to trek back into the kitchen. Shay follows suit, going around the room collecting the dinner plates.
A presence fills the space behind me as I begin the task of cleaning up the leftover feast. Kade’s solid arms slide around my waist. I twist around so we’re face to face. Well, face to chest anyway. “You seem to be hitting it off with my grandfather. I think you’ve finally met your foul-mouthed match,” I say, looking up into his gorgeous blue eyes. They’ve changed. The biting fierceness that shone through has been replaced by a soft, warm glow.
Kade was the topic of conversation through most of dinner. My parents fired off question after question in rapid succession; from where he grew up to what it’s like being in a band. Naturally, my grandpa only wanted to know about the women.
Rich laughter wraps around me like silk. “He is pretty great.” Grabbing the newly scraped plates, he places them in the sink. “Your dad’s a nice guy, too. Pretty sure your mom hates my guts, though.” The water rushes out of the faucet. Kade begins rinsing the plates and filing them in an orderly row in the dishwasher.
I gave him plenty of forewarning that my mom was a tough nut to crack. I nearly choked when she asked why a grown man would choose “the playboy lifestyle” instead of raising a family, but Kade handled himself with grace. His answer was spot-on, with no hesitation, as if he’d been holding it in his bag of tricks all along.
When I finally settle down, I intend for it to be forever. It’s not a choice you make lightly.
“Don’t take offense to it. She hates everyone who’s not Bob.” I empty the leftover stuffing into a Tupperware container and hand him the empty bowl. “She despises Jenny, always has. Blames her partly for ruining my marriage.”
“That’s twisted. Jenny didn’t put Bob’s dick in the nanny.”
I snort. His joke is crude, but it’s also the truth. Getting divorced sucked, and I really could have used my mom’s support. I can still hear her nagging voice in my head telling me it was all my fault Bob cheated on me. The constant feeling that I wasn’t good enough festered in my gut like a cancer. I really thought that maybe if I’d tried harder, Bob wouldn’t have sought out the affection of another woman, but that’s bull. It didn’t matter what I did—I would never have been enough for him.
“I just don’t get it. What is it about him she loves so much?”
A blast of cold hits me in the face as I push everything around in the fridge. “She’s old-fashioned. She expected me to turn a blind eye to the affair and continue on as if nothing happened.” The refrigerator door closes with a wisp as I move on to the next task. “The truth is insignificant. It only matters how you’re perceived.”
I lean against the counter and watch as Kade begins scrubbing out the turkey pan. His sleeves are rolled up his thick forearms, and his shoulders are hunched over the sink, causing his already fitted shirt to stretch across his muscular back. It’s just so . . . real.
Whenever I tried to picture this exact scenario last year, I couldn’t see past the star persona, but now, that other guy is like a faded memory. Kade sat at my dining room table, laughing with my family and enjoying a meal I made. He could be anyone. A mechanic, a lawyer, a businessman. The Stone Cold God of Rock is gone, replaced with a guy who blends into my life like watercolors.
The television suddenly blasts from the family room where my hard of hearing grandfather is watching what’s left of the football game. “I can finish up here. Why don’t you go keep Pop-Pop company?”
He dries his hands on a dishtowel and chucks it on the counter. “You sure?”
> “Yeah. We’re pretty much done anyway. Go ahead.”
The dishwasher hums and whirs to life; water tings against the china as the wash cycle starts. He drops a kiss on my head and saunters off through the kitchen.
The heavenly aromas of warm pie and coffee fill the room as I finish wiping down the counter. The house is quiet, save for the grinding of the coffeemaker and the sports stats blaring from the television. I wander through the kitchen to join my family, but what I find causes me to stop in my tracks.
Kade is sprawled out on the couch, sandwiched between my grandfather and Shay; my three favorite people passed out in a tryptophan coma, side by side. Shay’s body is a tiny ball, snuggled against Kade as she dozes, mouth open, drooling onto his shirt. Warmth spreads throughout my chest, and my eyes mist over. Dessert is ready, but this is much sweeter than pie.
I quietly pad out of the room to find my cell phone. I need to snap a photo to remember this classic hallmark moment. The rapid blinking of the blue light in the corner catches my eye. I have at least half a dozen missed calls and a few voicemails. Before I even have a chance to check who called, the musical ringtone plays loudly in my hand.
Why is Cami calling me?
“Ainsley, thank God!” she sobs in my ear. “Do you know where Bob is?” Her voice is breathy and strained.
“It’s Thanksgiving. I’d assume he’s with you.” My finger twirls in one of the curls hanging over my shoulder. Why would she think I have any idea where Bob is?
“We had a fight and he left.” She lets out a long, drawn-out whine, panting in my ear. “His phone is going direct to voicemail every time I call.” Another whine floats out of the receiver, followed by more rapid panting. “I think I’m in labor. The babies are coming, and I can’t find him!”
This is not happening.
My grip tightens on the phone. This should not be my problem. Bob divorced me to be with her. I am the last person she should be calling when he runs off. Part of me wants to hang up the phone and walk away from this, but I can’t do that. I don’t have it in me to turn my back on a woman who’s obviously frightened and coming to me for help. As much as it kills me to do so, I will help her because she’s the mother to Shay’s brothers. “Sit tight. I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER 43
Kade
“KADE, WAKE UP.”
My head pops up off the couch, and my eyes blink in rapid succession. My head is still foggy from a nap I didn’t realize I was taking as Ainsley squats on the floor in front of me, steadying herself with my knees.
“Cami’s in labor. Bob took off. I gotta go.”
“Wait . . . what?” It takes a split second to register what she said. Shay dozes on my side like a sweet angel tucked under my arm. I untangle from her, trying my best not to wake her before following Ainsley into the hall. “Bob took off?”
“They had a fight, and he’s not answering his phone. I have to take her to the hospital. I can’t just leave her.”
Hearing her say it pisses me off. Bob’s level of bullshit knows no boundaries. Who runs out on their pregnant girlfriend on Thanksgiving then doesn’t answer her calls?
I throw open the closet door and grab my coat. “We both know where he is, A. I’m going to go get that fucker and bring him to where he belongs.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Maxwell gave explicit instructions to keep the two of you apart.”
“He did. But I can’t let Bob miss the birth of his children because he’s a cheating, lying douchebag. I have her name. I’ll look up her address on the way.” Before she can protest any further, I turn to walk out the door.
A Google search uncovers one Charlene Mackelravy within a ten-mile radius. I click on the link and find a Facebook page confirming it’s her. I can’t believe this. It’s like he can sense when Ainsley is having a good day and does everything in his power to screw it up royally. I swear it’s a gift.
Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting in the car in front of a two-story apartment complex. Many of the bricks on the building are missing or cracked. Rows of blue doors and air conditioning units file past as I walk down the damaged walkway until I find the one I’m looking for. I knock and a busty brunette answers, her V-neck sweater cut so low you can practically see her stomach. Before Ainsley, I might have thought this chick was hot, but now, all I see is trash.
“I’m looking for Bob Daniels.” Straight and to the point. I’m not here for small talk.
She eyes me up for a second, the tall stranger at her door looking for her boyfriend, and then cocks her head to the side like she might know me. The proverbial light bulb switches on over her head when she finally registers who exactly is standing on her welcome mat. “Oh my gosh . . . are you . . . ?” Great. Another fucking fangirl.
I flash her The Grin and rest my hand on the doorframe. “In the flesh, sweetheart. Now, be a peach and go fetch Bob, will ya?” She looks up at me in awe while I walk two fingers midair, reminding her to move in the nicest way possible.
“‘scuse me,” she simpers and backs away from the door. I probably shouldn’t have laid it on so thick, but you catch more flies with honey. That, and I get a kick out of rendering Bob’s girl speechless.
The door opens again, and Bob stands there like a deer in headlights. “What the . . . ?” He pokes his head out of the apartment and looks left and right, I assume trying to make sure we’re alone. “How . . . ? What . . . ?” My presence works on more than just fangirls, I see.
“You are a sad, sorry excuse for a human being, but you don’t need me telling you what you already know. While you’re in here screwing your hygienist, your girlfriend is at the hospital giving birth to your children. You might want to get your ass over there.”
I turn to leave. My goal was to tell him Cami was in labor, and now that I have, my work here is done. I have no need to look at his annoying face anymore. “Does Cami know I’m here?”
I spin back around to face him, stepping into his personal space as he backs away from me. “Nope, and you can thank Ainsley for that. She had the opportunity to use this affair against you but refused.” His back hits the wall, and I tower over him.
“Why?”
“Because, unlike you, ruining the lives of others isn’t high on her list of priorities. Remember that when you’re sitting beside her in court next month.” I turn on my heel and storm away. After everything he’s done to her, she still insists on helping him. It speaks volumes for what kind of person she is.
Brisk footsteps fall in line behind me as I approach my car. “Hey!” I stop and wait as Bob jogs my way. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me, man. Just do the right thing.” I slide into the driver’s seat and close the door on this nonsense once and for all.
CHAPTER 44
Ainsley
I READ THE text and push the phone back in my pocket with a sigh of relief. Bob’s on his way. As soon as he gets here, I can remove myself from this bizarre situation and attempt to salvage what is left of this ruined holiday. I hate Bob, but I hate myself more for being the sap who always picks up the pieces when he’s inexplicably absent.
“Thanks for being here, Ainsley. You’re a pal.”
The rhythmic beeping of machines fills the dead air as Cami lies in the hospital bed. When I got to her house earlier, she was a sopping mess of tears and amniotic fluid. A trail of towels lined the floor where she walked from room to room, afraid Bob would be upset if she ruined the hardwood. She moaned and cried, doubled over in pain as contraction after contraction wracked her body. As soon as she settled in, they administered an epidural, and her shrill yelping subsided along with the pain, leaving nothing but uncomfortable silence between us.
“Let’s not pretend we’re friends, okay? I’m here because you needed my help. Nothing more.” Her honey-colored eyes fill with fresh tears, and I shove aside any guilt that arises from having been too harsh.
“I’m sorry about the way things happened. I never meant to hurt y
ou.” Her weepy pout reminds me of the day I found her in bed with my husband. She’d been an honorary part of our family for years. She’d been on vacations with us, spent holidays with us. She wasn’t just my nanny. She was the little sister I never had. A betrayal like that isn’t something you can come back from.
I flip through the expired issue of People on my lap, not dignifying her apology with a response. Feeling her eyes on me, I pretend to be enthralled in the latest Kardashian drama. She expects me to absolve her of her crime, but I’m not giving her the satisfaction. My being here should be enough to appease her. We don’t need to fill the time with meaningful conversation.
“Bob and I were fighting over you.”
I tear my gaze away from the glossy page, and my eyes fix on hers. “What about me?”
She takes a deep breath and lets the air trickle back out. “This ridiculous lawsuit. His constant concern about what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with.” A tear falls down her cheek, and she swipes it away with the flick of her finger. “He still wants you. I’m just his consolation prize.”
I remember being in Cami’s shoes, the agonizing feeling that I wasn’t good enough weighing me down until I could barely move. Bob is the kind of man who gets better looking as he ages. Over the years, his football player build and thick blond hair would always turn many heads. Adding doctor to his name only added to his appeal.
My love for him bordered on obsession, so much so that I would do anything to make him happy, but he never was. He was always searching for the greener grass. The whole time we were together, I was convinced I was the problem, but now, I know I wasn’t. Bob’s constant need for perfection in all aspects of his life will always be a brick that drowns him slowly. He doesn’t really want me. He’s fixated on me because he knows for the first time in fifteen years that I don’t want him.
I have no words of comfort to offer. She’s with a man who can’t possibly love her because he’s incapable of it, and she will always feel less than worthy as a result. Looking at Cami now, I see she is a lot like I was. Naïve enough to believe all his lies, and full of faith that I could love him enough for the both of us.