“I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“Oh, I do. You’re kidding yourself if you think you’ve seen the last of him. Why don’t you tell him you’re pregnant, honey?”
“I was going to the day he seemingly broke up with me.”
“What about now?”
She and Cutter had made all these plans and announced their engagement. What would the town think?
Did any of that matter if she and Pierce could manage to work things out and he wanted a future with her? If she had to make a choice between appearances or happiness, she’d pick being ecstatic with Pierce every time.
But to get to that place, there were so many ifs in their way… If he truly loved her and believed in the same kind of abiding devotion she did. If he wanted to be a father to their baby. If she could explain everything to Daddy without triggering his delicate heart. If Pierce would be willing to ask him for her hand.
“I don’t know.” But she needed to tell Pierce about the baby. She owed him that much.
“Well, I’m around if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it, honey. Just be happy. I married the man I thought was ‘safe’ when I was young, and it turned into a disaster. The one who got away left for good…and I’m alone. I’m doing all right, but I look back and think about what might have been. And I wish I could do that summer over.” She sighed. “Don’t make my mistake.”
Rayleigh made a good point. Hiding behind Cutter wasn’t fair to either of them, especially since he was in love with his starlet. He didn’t think it would work out, but for his sake, Brea prayed it would. He deserved to be happy. And weren’t they both entitled to a chance at a future with the person who held their heart?
Yes.
“Thanks. I’m going to do some thinking.” Brea needed a plan, and she’d rather not be scheming at home. After his date, her father would want to talk about town gossip, and she didn’t want anyone influencing her decisions. She needed to decide her next step alone.
“Got someplace to go?”
“I should.” She didn’t think Cutter would mind if she spent a night or two at his place, and the silence would do her good.
“If it falls through or you need anything else, you have my number, honey.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Get a good night’s sleep.” Rayleigh clasped her hand across the table. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
One-Mile left Sunset in a really shitty mood. Brea wasn’t marrying Bryant, and he needed to figure out how to convince her to his way of thinking fast. That meant using his brain and asking the right questions.
Mentally, he sifted through his options. They all sucked. As usual, he was on the outside. Yeah, his sparkling personality was probably to blame. He didn’t go out of his way to make friends, never had. SEALs like Hunter and Logan formed bonds as deep as brothers with their teammates. One-Mile had always worked alone and that hadn’t bothered him.
Until now.
As Led Zeppelin ground out “Kashmir” over his Jeep’s speakers, his phone rang. He hoped Brea wanted to talk…but he was half expecting Cutter, itching to cuss him out. Instead, he saw Zy’s name on his screen.
“What’s up?” The hesitation on the other end started to worry him. “Zy?”
“Oh, fuck it. You free tonight?”
“What do you need?”
“I want to talk.” He sighed. “About Trees.”
Yeah, Zy probably wasn’t happy that he’d accused his BFF of being a backstabber. “What’s there to say?”
“I want to go over the evidence.”
“All right. When and where?”
Zy rattled off the name of a sports bar downtown. “Can you meet me about nine?”
Not exactly the way One-Mile wanted to spend a Friday night, but… “I’ll be there.”
“Thanks.”
Then the line went dead. One-Mile looked at the clock. He had two hours to kill. After grabbing a crusty sandwich at the deli near his house, he headed for his destination. The bosses had known about Cutter and Brea’s engagement before he had. It stood to reason they knew more than they were letting on. But Joaquin had never spoken much to him. And currently, Hunter wasn’t speaking to him at all. That left Logan, who wasn’t thrilled with him…but was least likely to slam the door in his face.
When he rang the bell, he heard a commotion inside. A kid was crying. A woman’s high-pitched exasperation cut through it. A man mumbled something as footsteps stomped toward the door.
A smile crept across One-Mile’s face. Sometimes, he had trouble reconciling that fierce, brash Logan was a devoted husband to his high-school sweetheart and father of twin girls. His house must be loud and chaotic and nonstop responsibility.
But it wasn’t Logan who yanked the door open. Instead, Caleb greeted him, one of his granddaughters cradled in a beefy arm.
“Sir. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Hi, Walker. You’re actually coming at a good time. Here.” He thrust the child into his arms. “See if you can get Macy in her high chair. I’ve got to round up Mandy.”
Before he could object, the colonel turned away to chase another little one shrieking across the living room.
One-Mile peered down at the cherubic face of the girl in his arms. Her wide blue eyes, just like her father’s, looked as startled as he felt. The swish of dark curls, her tiny button nose, and baby-powder scent made her seem so innocent. But the pout on her little mouth said trouble was brewing.
Sure enough, she belted out an ear-splitting wail and tried to lurch out of his arms.
He held her firmly and raced her to the kitchen. “Look, cutie, we’re stuck with each other for a few minutes. Why don’t you sit down and chill?”
But when he tried to maneuver her into her high chair, the little hellion bowed her back, kicked her legs, and howled like she was on fire.
One-Mile shook his head.
