#Bae (The Hashtag Series Book 8)

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#Bae (The Hashtag Series Book 8) Page 10

by Cambria Hebert


  He realized it in seconds and cleared his throat.

  “Is that a bounce house outside?” Adrienne exclaimed to Nova. “Why don’t you show Grandma how you jump?” She started walking toward the back door. “Burke, why don’t you come play with us?”

  He gave me a lingering stare. I didn’t budge. A small, cool hand wound its way around my middle, and I covered Rim’s fingers with mine but didn’t look away from Burke.

  “Romeo,” she whispered.

  Burke walked away, joining his wife, and they took Nova outside. Seconds later, Trent and Drew came back in.

  Ivy rushed to her brother and threw her arms around them both. “I did not invite him! I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have invited Mom.”

  “We know, sis.” Drew assured her as he one-arm hugged her.

  Braeden bypassed everyone and quietly went outside. Through the windows, I noted the way he stepped to the edge of the deck and stood watching over his in-laws with his baby daughter.

  Ivy pulled back and faced everyone else, who were all standing quietly.

  “Who’s hungry?”

  “I’ll help you get everything set out, honey,” Caroline told her daughter-in-law.

  “I’m always ready to eat,” John said from her side. Everyone laughed, and B’s mom elbowed him in the side.

  “Well, she asked,” he defended, rubbing at the spot.

  After that, things started up again, and the tension drained away now that the offending couple had gone.

  “Roman,” my mother said, coming forward. “Rimmel, how are you both doing?”

  “We’re good, Mom,” I said.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Rim replied politely.

  “Get over here,” my dad said, holding his arms out to her. She smiled and stepped into his embrace. “Good to see my favorite girl,” he whispered loudly into her hair.

  The sound of Rim’s light giggle eased a lot of the tension inside me.

  “Tell us all about preseason,” Mom said, including Dad and Rim in the conversation. “Then tell us about the shelter, Rimmel.”

  These days, my mom and Rim had a polite, bordering on friendly, relationship. Mom tried to make up for all the shit she pulled before Rim and I got married, but the wounds cut deep. I couldn’t blame Rim for being so cautious.

  I never once tried to help my mother’s cause in rebuilding a relationship with my wife. As far as I was concerned, Mom made her bed and if/when Rimmel wanted more than a friendly understanding, that was up to her.

  We talked for a few moments, mostly about football and the fact we had another dog, before Mom and Rim went to help Caroline and Ivy set out platters of food and set up a large crystal bowl of punch.

  The afternoon passed in a flurry of family, food, and baby stuff. Nova got a shit ton of new presents, one of which was an electric, pink Barbie car Trent and Drew put together in the yard. We sang “Happy Birthday,” and Ivy helped her blow out the candles on her giant rainbow cake covered in sprinkles.

  The top layer was reserved especially for Nova, so when Ivy set it in front of her, a giant mess was a given. I had to admit my niece looked pretty cute covered in icing.

  After a while, the kid started getting fussy, tuckered out by all the activity. Ivy and B disappeared upstairs to clean her up and put her down for a nap while the rest of us hung around downstairs. It was awkward at times with Burke there. I felt the tension between him and his son and the anxiety Trent had about the entire situation.

  Burke kept his trap shut and pretty much acted like Drew wasn’t even there. I wasn’t sure which was worse really—ignoring him or saying something that pissed us all off.

  Even though I kept an eye on the situation, most of my attention centered around Rimmel. I watched her closely, making sure today didn’t become too much. I looked for any indication I might need to pull her out of the room, maybe give her a little extra space to breathe.

  My girl did well, though. I only saw the worst of the shadows when everyone was singing and watching Nova blow out her candles. Rimmel didn’t let it hinder her day or take away from the fact her niece was turning one. She was just as hands on with the baby as always, and if she hugged her a little tighter than usual, I think it was only me who noticed.

  A short while later, B sidled up to me, offering me a beer from the pair in his hand. I took it and watched my mom and Rim across the room. They were doing some dishes together, and I noted Mom talking quietly to her.

  “How’s she doing?” B asked in his own low tone.

  I took a sip of the beer (my first and only of the day—training, you know) before replying, “She’s tough.”

  “There’s another article circulating online,” he said, turning so his back was to the room and he faced only me. “Saw it on Ivy’s phone when I was upstairs.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “It’s stupid shit,” B replied. “But it’s stupid shit that hurts women.”

  I gave him a look.

  He sighed. “It’s a long list of women who have offered to give you a baby.” He cleared his throat and leaned in. “They’re saying Rim can’t.”

  It was like a punch in the gut. I didn’t want her seeing that. “Don’t these vultures have anything better to do? Like I’d want some ho’s baby,” I griped. “It ain’t true, you know. We haven’t even been trying.”

  B nodded. “Dude, you ain’t gotta tell me, but yeah, I figured as much.”

  “Don’t mention the headline to her,” I said. “She doesn’t need to know about it.”

  “Already cleared off Ivy’s phone.”

  I took a pull on my beer, enjoying the way it slid into my stomach and bloomed into my bloodstream. I glanced back at Rim, thinking ahead to my impending travel schedule. I wasn’t ready to leave. How was I supposed to be when the buzzards circled overhead, just waiting to swoop in?

  Speaking of buzzards, thoughts of Rimmel’s dad filled my mind. Thoughts of the two million-dollar payout a story with even the slightest ounce of truth would provide.

  “I gotta make a call,” I told B and left him and the rest of the family to step out by the fire pit.

  I was skeptical if he would even answer. In fact, if he did or not would probably be more telling than anything he might actually say.

  “Hello?” He picked up on the fourth ring.

  “Brock, this is Romeo,” I said, skipping the pleasantries. This guy hurt Rim so much. He failed to protect her when she needed it most and got me shot. I didn’t feel like asking him how his day was going.

  “Romeo, is my daughter okay?” Worry laced his tone, and I took that as a good sign. Or a lie.

  “She’s fine. There’s nothing wrong.” I assured him.

  “Well, I’m surprised you called.”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen the headlines circulating about Rimmel and me.” I began.

  “Well, yes. They’re hard to miss.” He agreed.

  Gee, don’t sound too worried about your only daughter. Douchebag.

  “Look, I want to know if the press has contacted you. If you’ve spoken to them at all.”

  There was a poignant silence on the other end of the line. “You think I’m selling gossip about my daughter to the media?”

  He seemed surprised.

  I didn’t take too kindly to people thinking I was stupid.

  “We both know you probably aren’t above it,” I deadpanned.

  He made a sound.

  “I didn’t call to insult you. I called because I’m protecting my wife.”

  “Well. There are worse things.” He allowed, still an unhappy note in his voice. “They haven’t contacted me. And no, I haven’t sought them out.”

  “Keep it that way,” I said. “Don’t betray your daughter because a skeezy magazine offers you a pile of cash.”

  “I would never.” He was indignant.

  “Are you still clean?” I cut in. “Still not gambling?”

  He sighed. “I’m still sober. Still going to my
meetings and therapy. I haven’t gambled since everything happened.”

  “That’s good to hear. Rimmel will be proud.”

  “How is she?” Brock asked. “Is she pregnant again?”

  My back teeth slammed together. Didn’t fuckers realize how intrusive that question really was? Why did people think they had a right to ask that, a right to know?

  “No. She’s not,” I said, terse.

  “Oh, that’s a shame. I’m looking forward to holding my grandchild.”

  So many things. I wanted to say so many asshole things. “Yeah, well, we aren’t ready yet. And if you love your daughter and want to hold any future grandchildren at all, you’ll make sure you stay clear of the press. Not one word.”

  I felt his anger through the phone over the fact that I was dictating and basically threatening to keep him from my wife and child, and I knew he was likely going to say something that would piss me off.

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and hit END.

  Fastest way to not hear what someone has to say? Hang up on them.

  Did it make me an asshole? Sure did. Did I give a rat’s ass? Hells no.

  “Romeo?” Rimmel’s voice called to me from behind. I glanced over my shoulder and smiled. “Hey, baby.”

  “What are you doing?”

  I held up my cell. “Phone call.”

  “Everything okay?” She came closer as I shoved the device into the pocket of my jeans.

  “Even better now that you’re here.”

  She smiled. “Everyone’s leaving.” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder toward the house.

  “‘Bout damn time,” I muttered. “Thought they’d never leave.”

  She laughed. “Did you have plans?”

  I caught her around the waist and lifted her. Her legs wound around my waist. “I got a hot date with my wife.”

  She lifted a brow. “Do you?”

  I nodded slow, stroking my thumb over her side. “What do you say, Mrs. Anderson? How about some one-on-one time with your husband?”

  Her hands cupped my jaws. “I love that idea.”

  “It’s a done deal.” I confirmed.

  Her laugh floated behind me as I carried her into the house.

  Rimmel

  Never in a million years would I have thought life might bring me here. ‘Course it wasn’t really life that had my Ranger Rover pulling up this familiar drive.

  It was circumstance.

  For three months, I’d been frozen in time. I remained where I was while pages on the calendar turned and changed. Leaves on the trees morphed into colored jewels, then were gently shook free to leave behind bare branches that would, in time, bud with new life.

  I wanted to be like the trees on our beautiful compound.

  I wanted to gently shake away the chains that held me in place. I wanted to bud with new life, with change. No longer could the days and weeks pass me by, because that wasn’t living.

  Even though I wanted to desperately claw through the veil between life and death, to reach out and find my daughter and pull her close, it was impossible. Right now, I existed between the two. Between life and death. Caught wanting to live, but also not knowing how to loosen my grip on death.

  Everything seemed so unattainable. It was why I’d come to realize I’d remained this way for six long months. When one needs to do everything, one chooses to do nothing.

  However, just because everything felt—at times—unfeasible, it didn’t mean it was. I had Romeo. He was already mine. And while I loved my lost Evie so deeply, the past week had made me realize something. Something I was terribly ashamed to admit I’d lost sight of.

  I chose him.

  Romeo.

  I would always choose him no matter what choice there was.

  I just needed a little help. Someone to show me how to shake free of the old so I could bloom with the new—but do it in a way that I could still bring the memory of my daughter with me.

  To be frank, I didn’t trust a therapist. My reality was I would go there to heal and spill my deepest pain and thoughts… only to have them all sold to the highest bidder and wind up as front page news.

  Dramatic?

  Unfortunately, no.

  We learned that the hard way the night I lost Evie. Someone on the hospital staff leaked the news to the media. It was the reason we were attacked by paparazzi on the way out. I didn’t have the luxury of being anonymous. Our pain was something others paid to see, a fact I would never be able to comprehend.

  I parked close to the house, glancing in the rearview, making sure no one followed me up the drive. A car followed me the entire way; the tail started the second I hit the main road by the compound. It slowed when I turned onto this street, but I knew it was likely parked down on the road.

  The press knew better than to step foot on my in-law’s property. Tony would eat them for lunch in court. And Romeo… Well, I wasn’t sure how much more he could be pushed before he retaliated, too. My husband was not the kind of man who tolerated what he considered threats to his family.

  In fact, he’d been relatively mild in handling everything they’d put us through. If you considered mild a huge stone wall around twenty acres of private land, some sort of family escort to and from my job at the shelter, a media ban, and unlisted phone numbers for everyone in our family.

  Even though I was almost sure the reporters following me hadn’t come onto the property, I checked the mirrors before expelling a relieved sigh.

  I shut off the engine and tucked the keys in my bag, but before getting out, I glanced across the way, to the white, stately looking pool house where Romeo used to live. So many good memories in that little house.

  I heard a sound, sensed movement near the main house, and turned. Valerie was standing in the backdoor, holding it wide, looking at my car with surprise on her face. I smiled sardonically to myself.

  I was probably the last person she expected to see today.

  Since it was clearly too late to chicken out and run away, I pulled up my big girl panties and stepped out of the car, taking care to hit the locks from the inside since I already stashed my keys.

  “Rimmel!” Valerie called. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine,” I assured her. “Romeo’s fine.”

  She watched me walk the short distance to the house, then stood back to permit me inside.

  “Is Tony here?” I asked, turning to see her close the door behind us.

  “He’s at the office,” she answered. “I just put on some tea. Would you like some?”

  “Sure.”

  Valerie waited while I pulled off the navy boyfriend-style blazer I wore. It was from Topshop. Ivy picked it out, as she did all my “presentable” clothes. Yes, I was actually wearing real clothes today. I figured a visit with the monster-in-law warranted it. After all, the last thing I needed was to see the judgement in her eyes about my state of dress and be totally pissed off before I even said what I came here to say.

  Besides, it was good for me to get out of the sweats and comb my hair. I hadn’t been doing that much at all lately. Since I hadn’t been doing appearances with Romeo or out anywhere really, dressing nice hadn’t been a priority. After all, the animals at the shelter didn’t care what type of pants I wore, as long as there were treats in the pockets.

  They were my kind of crowd.

  I hung the blazer on a nearby hook, then placed my handbag on the one beside it. It was a Kate Spade, something else Ivy picked out.

  I moved to tug off my tan fur-lined boots, but Valerie waved me away. “Just leave them. I know how you love your boots.”

  “They keep my feet warm.” I smiled. In addition to my usual fur-lined footwear, I was wearing a pair of white skinny jeans and a taupe V-neck tee that felt like silk against my skin. It was a longer length so it covered my butt, which made me feel okay about wearing white jeans.

  “So you keep saying,” Valerie replied and moved toward the kitchen. “I’ve been looking
online for a pair for myself. There are so many to pick from. How do you ever choose?”

  Valerie was going to buy a pair of the boots I wore?

  I glanced around to make sure I was in the right house.

  “Honestly?” I said, evilly anticipating her reaction. “I got these at Target. They were on sale.” She probably didn’t even know Target sold shoes.

  “Oh really? That’s where I buy my paper towels.”

  See.

  “I’ll have to see if I can find a pair next time I go.”

  That surprised me. I thought Valerie Anderson would scoff at the thought of buying a pair of shoes at Target.

  Maybe she was working on turning over a new leaf as well.

  These days, things between Valerie and me were cordial. We were friendly at family dinners, football games, and anytime else we were together. She came to the house the day after I lost the baby, something I wasn’t prepared for at all. I was almost convinced I’d see some kind of disappointment or even condemnation in her eyes.

  There wasn’t any. Not even a hint. It was that morning I recalled a conversation we’d had a long time ago about her struggles with having a child. I’d thought about that talk a lot in the days since, wondered about it. About her.

  I didn’t dislike Romeo’s mother, not anymore. Disliking a mother for wanting to protect her son seemed really trivial these days.

  But I would never forget some of the things she’d done to hurt me. In all truth, I was scared to be here right now. I felt as if I were opening myself up for additional potential hurt. There was a time long ago when I thought she and I would have a relationship.

  That was before she announced my father killed my mother. That kinda put a kibosh on things.

  She’d worked hard over the last two years to rebuild some kind of relationship with me. I think she finally conceded that Romeo truly loved me and I truly loved him. The beautiful wedding she put on for us (and B and Ivy) was her way of extending the olive branch, and I accepted it.

  But today was a first.

  I’d never driven over here on my own, knowing Tony wouldn’t be here, with full intentions of spending time with her.

 

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