Must Be Wright (The Wrights Book 3)

Home > Romance > Must Be Wright (The Wrights Book 3) > Page 7
Must Be Wright (The Wrights Book 3) Page 7

by Skye Jordan


  Her eyes went comically wide. “Ten bucks?”

  “Ten bucks. And after I finish talking to Gypsy, we’ll go anywhere you want to spend it.”

  “Deal.” Belle ran around the bar, and the clink of glass sounded as Belle pulled bottles out of the boxes Gypsy had hauled from the back earlier.

  “Goddammit, Wyatt.” Gypsy had a hard time keeping her voice lowered, angrier with each step she took toward him to get out of earshot of Belle. “I told you just last night to call if you’re going to be late. I also told you to be back in two hours. I need a fucking manager, and I can’t say I blame her”—she gestured toward the door—”for seeing me as unprofessional when I brought a five-year-old to her interview.”

  “I can go after her,” he offered, serious and apologetic. “I’ll explain everything. I’ll get her to come back in.”

  “Forget it. I didn’t like her attitude—” about Belle almost slipped out of her mouth, but the girl wasn’t all that far away. “This isn’t a hobby. I’m running a business here, and this business is supporting my kid. You may have all the money in the world to cover your ass, but I don’t. I’m trying to do a juggling act with work and Cooper, and it feels like he’s always the ball I drop. I need a manager who can keep this place going so I can spend more time with him. He’s only three, and I already feel the years melting away. You have no idea how time-consuming and expensive it is to raise a kid. Especially on your own. There’s babysitting and activities and schools and sports. And shit, maybe colleges like Cornell.”

  Expressing her frustrations and worries acted like a release valve and her fury fizzled into annoyance. “Who the hell goes to Cornell for a Hospitality Management degree, anyway? That’s like walking into Baskin Robbins and asking for a diet soda.”

  When Wyatt didn’t laugh, she refocused on his face. “Why do you look like you’re going to throw up?”

  “Because I might.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “I’m sorry for not calling. I just… There was so much… The lawyer…” He shook his head. “No excuse. I should have called. I really am sorry.”

  Gypsy didn’t want to care about Wyatt’s problems. She had plenty of her own and had no business inviting his into her life. But she couldn’t ignore the terrified, sickened look on his face either.

  “Sit down.” She pulled the chair out from the nearest table, and Wyatt sat across from her. “What’s going on? What did the lawyer say?”

  Wyatt glanced behind her, where Belle still rattled bottles behind the bar, and lowered his voice before speaking. “Francie’s gone. As in really gone. She moved back to South America to live with her family.”

  Gypsy’s mouth dropped open, and the repercussions of this news hit her hard. “Oh no. No. Oh my God.”

  Wyatt nodded, pressed one elbow to the table, and rested his head in his hand. “My mind is still spinning. Francie had been thinking about doing this for a while, because she went to the lawyer and had all the correct paperwork drawn up. Larkin, the lawyer, said he tried to offer her options to keep her with Belle, but she wasn’t interested in any of them.”

  Gypsy’s heart twisted.

  “She refused to leave a forwarding address,” Wyatt went on, “and Larkin doesn’t know how to get in touch with her, so it’s not like I can try to reason with her or create some situation that would work for her to stay here. I’m terrified to tell Belle. I have no idea how she’s going to react. Hell, I still don’t know how I’m taking the news.”

  “What kind of papers did she have drawn up?”

  “Permanent guardianship. It transfers all parental rights to another person. I still can’t get my mind around just up and walking away from a little girl who loves you. I mean, Francie had to be miserable to do this. I bought her a house and an SUV. After Brody died, I sent her money every month just to make sure she could focus on the one most important thing—Belle. For her to walk away from all that to go back to South America, she had to be really miserable, and it kills me to think how completely unhappy she’d been all this time.”

  “What did your parents say? Was this as big a surprise to them as it is to you?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t told them,” he said.

  “What? Why not?”

  “Because they haven’t had a vacation since Belle was born, and I don’t want to ruin it. They took Francie in as their own. They gave her emotional support, babysat Belle as often as they could, tried to get Francie to go back to school and make some friends. They even encouraged her to start dating again, for God’s sake. They love her. This is going to kill them.”

  Gypsy was sick over this turn of events. She knew Wyatt had suffered when he lost his brother. It was the only time he hadn’t come straight to the bar as soon as he’d landed over the last three years. He’d come after seeing his parents, at closing. Gypsy had been blown away he’d come to her for a sympathetic ear. That night marked a turning point in their relationship, from just another flirty customer to something deeper. Something real.

  He’d stayed in town long enough to bury his brother and offer emotional support to the rest of the family, but then he was off again on another tour. He hadn’t been quite the same since. A little more subdued, a little more serious. But still the good-time guy with several women on his arm and a playful tease for Gypsy.

  Now he was back to the defeated man he’d been when he lost his brother, and Gypsy couldn’t help but hurt for him. “What are you going to do?”

  He sat back and lifted his hands. “I wasn’t there when Brody needed me, and, shit, now Francie. I’ll be damned if I’ll do that with Belle.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself,” she told him. “People with depression don’t always share what’s going on inside, and you’re not a mind reader. You did all you could with the information you had. The fact that they both wanted you in Belle’s life shows how much respect they had for you.”

  Wyatt didn’t argue, but he didn’t look convinced either.

  “I can’t help but keep replaying our last moments before she left,” he said. “I knew something was wrong. She’d lost more weight, felt like a skeleton when I hugged her. It was Belle’s first birthday without Brody, and Francie said the day had been hard. Then she went to the car to go pick up more ice cream for the party, but she stopped and just stared at me. I should have known then. She told me she loved me, told me how good I’ve been for Belle. She was saying goodbye, and I couldn’t see it. Then she just drove away.”

  He shook his head, coming back to himself with a devastated look on his face. “I can’t believe this is happening. There is no way on God’s green earth this will ever work. I don’t know anything about being a parent. I’m on the road three hundred days a year. I certainly can’t bring a little girl on tour with me. What in the hell am I going to do?”

  His leap in thinking confused Gypsy. “Wait, did you sign the papers?”

  “Of course.” He gave her a how-could-you-ask look. “She is my brother’s kid.”

  “Whoa.” Gypsy went from confused to shocked. “You’re telling me you just accepted guardianship of Belle? As in permanent guardianship? As in, you’re now her dad?”

  “Ah, jeez, don’t do that.” He grimaced and waved his hands out in front of him. “Give me a minute to ease into this. Women at least have nine months to get used to the idea. I got nothin’. Jesus Christ, I think I’m going to have a panic attack.”

  Gypsy went silent. She had no words for the shock of this news. The shock of Francie up and leaving, the shock of Wyatt’s position, the shock of him actually signing the papers to take Belle on as the most important responsibility of his life.

  “Besides,” he said, “my parents’ situation isn’t any better than mine when it comes to Belle. They’re almost seventy-five years old. My dad’s got asthma, bordering on COPD, and my mom’s arthritis makes it harder for her to get around. There’s no way they can raise Belle on their own.” He shook his head and stared at the floor. “I have no fuckin
g idea how this is going to work, but she’s my family, and there’s no way in hell she’s going to be raised in foster care.”

  Gypsy was awed at Wyatt’s loyalty. Sure, it had always been clear that he loved his family, but he also loved his career. Right now, he was country music’s golden child, and with songs from their new album racking up slots in the Top 40, Gypsy didn’t see that ending anytime soon.

  “Wow,” she said, stunned. “Just…wow. You went all in. I honestly don’t know any other man who would do that. Well, except for Miranda’s husband, Jack. And, yeah, Marty, who’s family now. But certainly not anyone with a career like yours.”

  That put Wyatt Jackson in a group with a very select few. And Gypsy couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to have a man like that in her life every day.

  “I admire your loyalty,” she told him. “Belle is lucky to have you. And for what it’s worth, I think you have the potential to be a really great dad. But I have to warn you, there’s a hell of a lot of sacrifice involved, and I think it will be ten times the sacrifice for you.”

  Her cell rang, and she pulled it from her back pocket to find her sister’s name on the display. “Oh, shoot,” she muttered to herself as she glanced at her watch. Where had the time gone? “It’s Miranda. I wanted to get by the grocery store to grab dinner before I picked up Cooper.” She held up a finger to ask Wyatt to wait and answered. “Are you both still alive?”

  Miranda laughed in Gypsy’s ear. “Your confidence is touching.”

  Gypsy heard Cooper’s sweet voice in the background, and she smiled. “I can swing by and pick him up in about fifteen minutes.”

  “We’re out running errands. I’ll drop him off at the house. I’d like to say hi to Marty and Alaina anyway.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’ll meet you there.” She disconnected and opened her mouth to tell him she had to go when Belle yelled, “Uncle Wyatt, you owe me ten bucks!”

  He huffed, not quite a laugh, but he definitely smiled. “That kid… God.”

  Gypsy understood perfectly. Loving a child was daunting and all-consuming. Amazing, gratifying, trying, challenging, frustrating. All the -ings. She reached out and covered his hand with hers. “Hang on, Jackson. It’s going to be a wild ride.”

  He covered her hand, sandwiching it between his own, and Gypsy’s stomach took a free fall off the high-dive.

  “Thank you.” His voice was soft and serious. “I know I’ve put a lot on you when you’ve got your own life to take care of. I just want you to know I really appreciate it. I couldn’t have managed this without you.”

  Her insides tingled with warmth. She stared at his hand as he threaded their fingers, and she felt a door inside her open. Felt the longing for a connection like this in her life.

  She liked to think of herself as a smart woman. Even smarter after Cooper’s dad bailed, showing her exactly what most men were made of. But right now, in this instant, experiencing this connection with a man she admired and desired, she wasn’t feeling very smart. She was feeling like she wanted to lean across the table and find out if he was as good a kisser as the tabloids claimed. Wanted a second chance to feel if the muscles under his clothes were as real as they felt this morning.

  “You really helped me out of a tight spot,” he told her, lifting those bright blue eyes to her face. With that look in his eyes and his hands cradling hers, Gypsy’s brain shorted out. “Let me repay the favor. I’ll get dinner.”

  That snapped her out of the trance. She pulled her hand from his, laughing. “You seriously never quit, do you? For the last time, I’m not going out with you.” She pushed her chair back. “Now get Belle and get out of here.”

  “Who said anything about a date?” His familiar, flirty smile flashed. “But it’s good to know you’re still interested. I meant going to the store and picking up the things you didn’t have time to get because of me.”

  Gypsy pulled in a breath to say no, but Belle ran over. “We’re going to the store?”

  “Yep.” He stood and picked her up. Gypsy saw him in a whole new light. As a man of loyalty and honor. A man willing to shoulder the tough stuff. A man dedicated to his family.

  She had to admit, in all the years she’d known him, he’d never looked more appealing than he did right now.

  “Gypsy’s going home to see her boy, and we’re going to pick up some things for her at the store.”

  “And I can spend my ten bucks,” Belle said.

  Wyatt dropped his head back and laughed, and like always, the sound made tingles scurry up her spine. But this time, they bubbled in her heart too.

  9

  Who knew eggs could be so hard to find?

  “I want to go home,” Belle whined, her feet on the bottom rung of the grocery cart, her body bent over the side.

  “We can’t let Gypsy and Cooper go hungry. She did something nice for me, so I want to do something nice for her in return. That’s what friends do for each other. Besides, I made her a promise. And if you make a promise, you should keep it.”

  Wyatt caught himself dishing out life lessons and had a what-the-fuck moment of surrealism.

  He set the eggs in the cart, his gaze scouring a grocery store so big, it was more like a grocery warehouse. He wandered a few feet down the rear aisle, scanning the endcaps where candles and fancy cookware lined the shelves. He paused to stare at a display with a dozen different small appliances filling the shelves, muttering, “When did grocery stores start carrying toasters and blenders?”

  “You shouldn’t put eggs down here. They’re gonna get smooshed.” Belle picked up the egg carton and offered it to Wyatt, then patted the area in front where young kids usually sat. “You should put them in there.”

  Wyatt repositioned the eggs, took a deep breath, and sighed it out as he looked at the recipe for chicken fried steak on his cell phone. Breadcrumbs, flour, butter, milk, spices, steak— He pressed his forearms against the handle, feeling overwhelmed. Not by the grocery store, exactly, but by everything.

  “If you were bread crumbs, where would you be?” The question had been more of a thought than a real question. Wyatt was rethinking the making-dinner part of this ordeal and ordering take out on the way back to Gypsy’s.

  “I don’t know. Look on the app?”

  Wyatt refocused on Belle. Her feet had come off the edge of the bottom rail and she was now nearly upside down in the cart, hair dangling through the holes in the wire bottom. “Jesus, Belle.” He grabbed a handful of her T-shirt and pulled her upright. “Your hair is going to get caught in the wheels.” Once she was upright, he asked, “What app?”

  She blew out an exasperated breath. “Give me your phone.”

  Wyatt handed over his phone, and Belle walked beside the cart, tapping on the face while Wyatt tried to decipher the signs overhead and guess what else might be down any particular aisle.

  “Here.”

  He stopped walking and took the phone back. Belle slipped under his arm and popped up between him and the cart, facing forward and looking at his phone. “You just put the name of what you’re looking for in here and a green arrow will show up on the right aisle.”

  “How do you know—”

  “Mommy uses it. And this is the store we usually shop at.”

  Wyatt typed in bread crumbs, and a little green arrow showed up halfway down an aisle three rows away.

  “See?” she said, grinning.

  “Damn, that’s impressive, monkey.”

  She tapped the image on his phone with her finger, counting, “One, two, three. I’ll beat you there.”

  Then she ran ahead and disappeared down an aisle. Wyatt didn’t like having her out of his sight, so he picked up his pace and followed. Midway down, Belle was dancing with containers of bread crumbs in both hands.

  Wyatt sighed. He had one hell of a learning curve in his future. One that seemed like it went straight up for the next thirteen years.

  God, thirteen years until she was an adult? That hit him like a mul
e kick and stole all Wyatt’s air. How in holy hell was he going to do this?

  Three women wandered up the aisle the opposite direction. He immediately pegged them as tourists. Early to midtwenties, wearing short-shorts, revealing blouses, and cowgirl boots. Wyatt instinctively ducked his head and diligently studied his phone.

  They giggled and chatted to each other as he passed. He almost got away. Almost.

  “Oh my God, you guys,” one woman said in a hushed but high-pitched voice that made Wyatt cringe. “I think that’s Wyatt Jackson.”

  A flurry of quiet chatter followed, then the click of heels sounded behind him, followed by an overly sweet “Excuse me.”

  Damn. Wyatt exhaled and force a smile to face the woman. All three of them grew giddy, their gazes glittering with their find.

  Wyatt kept one eye on Belle as he signed autographs for the women and, of course, they asked for selfies. By the time he’d moved on, Belle stood with a container of bread crumbs, a cocked hip, and an irritable expression.

  “We’ve got bread crumbs,” he said, taking them from Belle and tossing them into the cart before glancing at the recipe. “How about steak?”

  He was about to type in steak when his phone rang and his manager’s name showed up on the display.

  He gestured for Belle to wait and answered the phone. “Aaron, can you hold on a sec?”

  “Sure.”

  Wyatt typed in steak, showed the image to Belle, who counted aisles and took off.

  He followed, speaking into the phone. “I’m at the grocery store with Belle, so we should probably talk fast now and in depth later.”

  When Wyatt explained what had happened with Francie and Belle, his manager went silent for a long moment.

  “Whoa,” Aaron said. “That’s…heavy.”

  Somehow, this mess didn’t seem to fit into that tidy box for Wyatt. “My parents get home in a little over two weeks. They aren’t equipped to care for her, but I don’t feel like I can figure this out on my own. Once I see them, I’ll have a better idea of how I’m going to handle this. I’m caught up in the middle of things with Belle. Can you call the guys and let them know? I’ll call them later tonight to talk things out.”

 

‹ Prev