by Lizzie Shane
“For Sofie,” he conceded, though he didn’t want it to just be for Sofie.
“My brother offered to kick your ass. I almost let him, but in retrospect I’m glad I didn’t.”
Cam frowned. “I thought you weren’t in touch with him.”
“I wasn’t. I, uh, got in touch after…”
After they broke up. After she found out about Sofie. He wanted to ask her when she’d realized she was pregnant. If she’d been excited or scared. Why she hadn’t called him. But he didn’t want to push his luck. He nodded to the tree to distract her before she could decide they were done and kick him out. “Do you always use a fake tree?”
She glanced toward it. “It isn’t fake. It’s still a Christmas tree. It’s just...”
“Not alive?”
“It’s easier. And cheaper. Do you know how expensive live trees are? And then you just throw them away in a month.”
“I’m happy to help out with money. And I don’t just mean the tree.” Cam glanced around the tiny apartment. It was cozy. Homey and comfortable. But kids were expensive. He’d heard his sisters bemoaning that often enough.
She bristled, pursing her lips. “We’re doing fine. Thanks.” She turned back to the tree, dismissing the subject and continuing to adjust ornaments.
“Do you have a schematic in your head of where each ornament goes?”
From her profile he could see her mouth tighten even more. “I just want it to be perfect. It’s the first Christmas tree Sofie might remember.”
At one and a half? “I’m pretty sure she isn’t going to know the difference.”
“I know that. But I still want it to be perfect.”
Perfect to him had always been an illusion. He and Erika had the perfect marriage—and it had vanished like smoke. He had the perfect career—and it felt like he was hanging on by his fingernails. Perfect was an impossible standard, an appearance to keep up. And sometimes he was exhausted just thinking about it.
“Perfect is overrated,” he murmured. “Sometimes the imperfections are the best part.” He closed the distance between them, eyeing the flawlessly symmetrical tree and the woman working so hard to make everything perfect.
Rachel was a planner, he knew that, but if life always went exactly to plan, he would still be married to Erika. He wouldn’t have met Rachel and they wouldn’t have Sofie. Sometimes the accidents life handed them when they were striving for perfection were the best opportunities. A wild pitch that turned into a double play to get them out of an inning. Or a checked swing that turned into a game winning base hit. He’d learned to roll with what the universe handed him—and right now it seemed to be handing him a second chance with Rachel.
The anger he’d felt this afternoon had already bled away, leaving the memory of what he’d wanted them to be in its place. He’d never been good at holding grudges. One of the most critical tools a ball player could have was a short memory—the ability to forget the mistakes of the past and focus on the next pitch, rather than the one he’d just missed. Cam hadn’t always been able to do that—every player went through phases where he got in his head—but he was determined not to strike out this time.
The light of the Christmas tree glowed on the side of her face and reflected in her eyes. Eyes that locked on his as the moment held, lingering.
“Rachel,” he murmured, reaching to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.
She ducked her head, tucking the hair back herself, and her gaze flicked away from his. “Sofie’s asleep now. Maybe you should…”
Cam dropped his hand, reading the rejection loud and clear. He thrust his hands into his pockets, rocking back. “I’d like you and Sofie to meet my family. Maybe this week sometime?”
“Of course.” Rachel nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “I’ll look at my schedule and we’ll work something out.”
“Good.” He searched his brain for something else to say, some other way to put off leaving. There was nowhere else in the world he wanted to be right now. Sofie was asleep, but she was here. Rachel was pushing him away, but she was here.
But he didn’t want Rachel to regret inviting him over. He didn’t want her to think twice about doing it again because she worried she couldn’t get rid of him. So it was time to leave gracefully, even if it felt wrong to walk away.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promised as Rachel watched him put on his shoes and coat from a safe distance, her arms folded across her middle. “Thank you for tonight.”
* * * * *
Rachel closed the door behind Cam, locking the deadbolt and resting her forehead against the smooth, cold surface.
“Oh! Did Cameron leave already?”
Rachel barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her mother’s badly feigned surprise. “You know he did.”
Her mother must have been eavesdropping to come out so soon after Cam’s departure—not that she could blame her. The apartment’s thin walls weren’t exactly the height of noise insulation. Until they’d gotten Sofie a white noise machine, she’d been waking up every time someone spoke above a whisper in the living room.
“He seems like a nice boy.”
Cam was hardly a boy. He was a man—and that was half the problem. It would have been easy to resist a boy who wasn’t ready for the reality of having a kid. It would have been easy to dismiss him and get back to her regularly scheduled life.
Restraining her comment since she really didn’t want to get into a whole post-mortem of Cam’s visit, Rachel pushed off the door, her limbs suddenly heavy with exhaustion. She moved past her mother into the kitchen, automatically going through the routine of tidying up and getting ready for tomorrow.
Her mother didn’t take the hint, following her into the kitchen. “Sofie seems to like him. Babies have good instincts.”
Rachel cringed at that glimpse into her mother’s decision making process. No wonder she blindly trusted everyone she met. Rachel couldn’t afford to do that. She needed to be smart. It was her job to look out for Sofie. To be the suspicious one so Sofie didn’t have to. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down around Cam.
Even if part of her wanted to.
There had been a moment by the tree. Intimate. Humming with possibility. Reminding her of the time when she’d thought he was a good guy. When she’d trusted him. When she’d wanted to give him her whole heart.
She couldn’t afford moments like those. Right now she had enough to manage just trying to navigate this new situation.
Everything was going to change.
It had been the right thing to do, telling him. She knew that, but she still wished she hadn’t had to. She’d liked her life. She’d been in control of her life, but now…everything was spiraling out of control and she’d never liked that feeling.
Her mother’s arm slid around her waist from the side. “Everything’s going to work out.”
“You don’t know that,” she mumbled.
“I do,” Andie insisted.
Rachel shook her head, resisting the comfort. Because she knew how empty that comfort was. Words with nothing behind them. Her mother believed everything would work out—but never did anything to make it work. Rachel had learned early that if she wanted something to happen, she had to do it herself.
And that she should never trust her mother’s judgment.
Andie trusted too much, too easily, and Rachel wasn’t going to make that mistake. Not again.
Chapter Eleven
The house was huge. Rachel stared up at it nervously, adjusting Sofie in her arms.
Cam had told her they were meeting at his sister’s place. The gathering tonight was supposed to be only his sisters and his parents—the spouses were taking all Cam’s nieces and nephews to the movies so she and Sofie wouldn’t be bombarded by the entire family at once. His grandmother lived with his parents, but she was apparently easily confused and had stayed home to watch The Great British Bake Off since Cam wanted to keep this
first meeting small. Just his parents and sisters—but there were still four SUVs crowding into the driveway in front of hers, each one a more expensive brand than the last. BMW. Porsche. Land Rover. Apparently that was the stratosphere Cam’s family lived in. Unless he’d bought them all cars when he signed his free-agent contract.
Was Cam the kind of guy who gave his family extravagant presents? He’d flown Rachel to San Francisco for the weekend to see him play and given her a jersey to wear to the game that she’d later found out was worth hundreds—a jersey that was still hidden in the back of her closet—but she hadn’t thought anything of the gifts at the time. Now as she carried her daughter past the row of eighty-thousand dollar cars, she saw those memories in a new light.
Would he want to give Sofie expensive gifts? Cell phones and iPads and a car on her sixteenth birthday? She knew she was getting ahead of herself, borrowing trouble from a future that might never come, but she couldn’t seem to stop the agitated spiral of her thoughts. She was too nervous, those panic-bunnies bouncing in her brain.
She didn’t feel ready for this, meeting Cam’s family—though it was better than seeing him alone again. She’d thrown herself into her work over the last few days, focusing on preparations for the Bachelor Auction, but Cam had invaded her dreams. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him, even when she didn’t see him. She’d arranged for him to see Sofie again—but always when the baby was home with Yaya or Andie and Rachel was at work. She needed time to shore up her defenses. To get control of the situation.
But she didn’t feel in control now. She reached for the doorbell, bouncing Sofie slightly in her arms. “You ready for this, baby girl?”
The last word was barely out of her mouth when the door whisked open. Cam stood in the entry, his smile broad. “You made it.”
“I said I would.” Too defensive. Get it together, Rachel. She forced a smile. “Is your family all here already?”
His grin widened, as he stepped back, holding the door wide so she could come in. “They were all early. They’re pretty excited to meet you.”
You must mean Sofie, since she was pretty sure the woman who’d kept the baby a secret from them probably wasn’t on their list of favorite people. But Rachel didn’t let her fake smile falter. “Great.”
“Hi, Sofie!” Cam reached for the baby, his face radiant as the two of them grinned at each other. “How’s my sweet girl?”
Rachel told herself it was logical that she hand Sofie over—she had to take her coat off, after all—but her arms felt empty without the familiar weight and she had to stop herself from snatching her daughter back as soon as she hung her coat on the overflowing coatrack.
“Come on,” Cam urged, and Rachel trailed him into a great room with a vaulted ceiling that could easily fit her entire apartment. Three women about Cam’s age and an older couple sat on the overstuffed couches clustered around a giant Christmas tree, all of them standing with welcoming smiles as soon as Cam appeared.
“There she is!” the older woman—who could only be Cam’s mother—exclaimed. And then they were all clustering around for introductions and a closer look. Rachel stayed where she was, two feet behind Cam and a little to his left, with her smile cemented in place as his parents and sisters gushed over the newest member of their family.
“Look at those cheeks!”
“So precious. Hi there, Sofie. I’m your Auntie Shelby. Your best auntie.”
“She looks just like you, Cam!”
“Nah, she’s way cuter than Cam ever was. Remember the ears?”
Rachel watched Sofie, her chest tight with worry that the baby would be overwhelmed, ready to whisk her back into her arms and give her some distance—but her daughter was studying her new family members calmly from the crook of Cam’s arm and seemed perfectly comfortable with the situation. It was Rachel who was quietly losing her mind.
“You must be Rachel.” A voice spoke at her elbow and Rachel jumped, glancing down at the shortest woman in the group. “I’m Carly. The oldest and wisest of Cam’s sisters. You want a drink?”
“I…” Frankly, she would have loved something to take the edge off, but she didn’t want Cam’s family to think she immediately reached for alcohol in every stressful situation. And she needed to keep her head. “I’m fine, thanks.”
Cam handed Sofie to his mother, who immediately began cooing at the baby, and Carly linked her arm with Rachel’s. “Come on. You won’t be able to pry that baby out of her arms for a while and I want to meet the woman who was able to put up with my obnoxious little brother long enough to wind up with his kid. We’ll have some cider—which I highly recommend with the cinnamon whiskey, but it’s your call.”
“Carly.” Cam’s voice held a note of warning.
His sister rolled her eyes. “Relax. I’m not going to tell her all of your embarrassing stories.”
Rachel couldn’t seem to read the mood of the room. Carly was acting like Rachel was Cam’s current girlfriend—not the woman who’d broken up with him and had his kid in secret. She was playful and grinning. What had he told his family about her?
“You don’t have to do anything she says,” Cam said to Rachel. “She isn’t the boss of the world, even if she thinks she is.”
Cam’s parents resumed their places on the couch, his mother balancing Sofie on her knee and pointing toward the Christmas presents. “It’s okay,” Rachel murmured, letting Carly tug her toward the bar at the other end of the room. The idea of talking to Cam’s mother was much scarier than being grilled by his sister.
Or all of his sisters, as it turned out.
The other two joined them at the bar stools, introducing themselves while Carly was pouring cider. Cam went to the couch to sit with his parents and if Rachel strained her ears she could just barely hear their conversation—which seemed to revolve around how much Sofie looked like Cam. Which she did. Rachel had seen the similarities since the day she was born. Her smile. The shape of her eyes.
“So we’re all dying to know—” Carly paused the bottle of cinnamon whiskey over one of the glasses, arching her brows. Rachel gave a slight nod and she smiled, splashing whiskey into each of the four cups. “What did he do?”
“Sorry?” Rachel accepted the cup Carly slid her way.
“Cam. What did he do to mess things up with you? We know what he thinks happened, but I want to hear your version.”
Rachel glanced at the three women. Carly was clearly trying to make her think she was on Rachel’s side, but she sincerely doubted Cam’s sisters were nearly as kindly disposed toward her as Carly seemed to want her to believe. Shelby, in particular, didn’t have much of a poker face and was constantly fighting a glower.
“He didn’t tell me he was married,” she said, trying to keep it as simple as possible. “When I found out, I broke up with him. Via text.” Might as well get it out there, since he’d probably already told them.
Carly nodded. “When was this?”
“Two years ago September. Right before he moved to LA.”
Something sparked in Carly’s eyes and her grin turned devilish. “You’re Miss September.”
That didn’t sound good. Rachel’s stomach clenched with the now-familiar fear that she didn’t know Cam at all. “Does he have a new girl every month?”
“No.” Carly laughed. “God, no. I just remembered—” She turned to her sisters. “Do you remember that? Right before he signed the free agent deal, how he was all stupid happy and evasive for like a month? I knew there was a girl.”
“No, you didn’t,” Ashley argued. “You kept telling me he was just having a good season and it was all about the playoff push and the free agency crap making him giddy. I was the one who came up with Miss September.”
Carly waved away her protest. “Does it really matter which one of us came up with it?”
“It does when it’s not you,” Ashley insisted.
“Whatever. I’m just excited to meet Miss
September.”
“I still remember October,” Shelby said darkly and the other two sobered.
“Yeah,” Carly murmured, and the nervous pit returned to Rachel’s stomach. “October was rough.”
Rachel didn’t know what to say to that. She’d been too mad at Cam to care how he took the break-up—though at the time she’d never seriously considered that he might have taken it hard. Her own October had been pretty lousy. She’d had morning sickness that felt like the plague and she’d been kicking herself repeatedly for doing exactly what her mother had done after a lifetime of trying to be anyone but Andie—all while trying to figure out how the hell her life was going to work with a child.
“Are you originally from Boulder?” Ashley asked, changing the subject when the silence got too tense.
“I am.”
“And your parents? They’re still here?”
“Sofie and I live with my mom and my grandmother. My father died when I was little, but he was never in the picture.” She almost didn’t tell them the rest, but it wasn’t like they were never going to find out. Might as well get it all out there. The whole sordid drama of her origins. “He was Aaron Cross. The football player?” Recognition lit in Carly’s eyes, though the other two didn’t seem to know the name. Rachel shrugged, explaining, “He never wore a wedding ring either and there wasn’t exactly Google at the time—” Not like now. Rachel really should have Googled Cam’s marital status. “So my mom didn’t know he was already married with a son until she was five months pregnant with me.”
Cam’s sisters’ eyes all widened in unison. It was Carly who spoke. “Shit. No wonder you wanted to castrate Cam when you found out about Erika.”
Rachel flushed. “I don’t know about castrate. But it was probably good for him that I didn’t have a voodoo doll at the time.”
Carly laughed, raising her glass in a toast. “My brother doesn’t know how lucky he is.”
“And when you found out you were pregnant?” Shelby demanded—apparently having exhausted her resources of playing nice.