Chapter 17

Kate flopped down in Millie’s guest chair and folded her hands over her stomach. “Do you want the scoop, or do you want to call your boyfriend in to hear the unvarnished version?”

Millie peered over the top of pink polka dot–rimmed readers. “Do we need varnish?”

“Gallons. I tapped the sorority-girl network.” Kate scrunched her nose. “I was in a sorority once upon a time, but I sure as hell don’t remember college life being so…X-rated.”

Snickering, Millie abandoned all pretense of typing the press release she’d been composing about sweeping changes the baseball coach was making in his program. “That’s because we remember the days before MTV started airing spring break festivities.”

Kate waved the explanation away. “I was no virgin as an undergrad, but I swear, I didn’t learn about half the things they talk about until I was in my thirties.”

Lacing her fingers together, Millie gave her friend a sympathetic stare. Which wasn’t very good. These days, she had a hard time finding sympathy for anyone. “Do you need a glass of whisky or something before we can get to the point?”

“Mari’s been partying with the kids on the sly for the last year or so.” Kate wrung her hands together, then flattened her palms on the tops of her thighs. “She was involved with one of the boys on the football team over the winter, but he apparently broke up with her.”

“Too clingy?”

“Too kinky.” Kate shuddered, then laughed at herself. “Sorry, it’s just… Can you imagine how freaky you’d have to be to turn some nineteen-year-old boy off? Guys are walking boners at his age.”

Millie forced herself to lower her eyebrows. She’d be damned if she’d let Mari Ransom and her antics force her to become reliant on injectable fillers. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Wearing a grim smile of determination, Kate plunged ahead. “The girls said all she did was brag about how she liked to try new things and complain about how boring Coach Ransom was in bed.” She grimaced. “Their words.”

“Her opinion,” Millie added.

Kate sat up straight in the chair. “Her loss. Ty’s a good man, Mil. I wouldn’t have let him come within five miles of you if he wasn’t.”

Her friend’s proclamation startled a laugh from her. “You’re my gatekeeper?”

“I’m your friend.” Kate rose from the chair and strode to the door. “And I’m a goddamn giantess. It’s my job to protect you mere mortals,” she said with a grin that glinted. “He never woulda gotten past me if I didn’t want him to.”

“Katie—”

Kate made a slicing motion with her hand, effectively cutting off any protest. “No. She’s not going to keep pulling this crap. Not on him, and definitely not on you.”

“This has nothing to do with me.”

“Right, because you aren’t in love with the guy or anything,” Kate snarked.

“I’m not.” The denial landed so far short of the truth it burst like a water balloon. The seconds ticked by as every lie Millie had ever told herself or anyone else concerning her relationship with Ty splattered all over the floor. “I don’t want to be.”

Kate’s answering smile was sympathetic. “Oh, I know.”

Desperate for a subject change, Millie waved her hand in dismissal. “First things first.”

“I have the names, but I’d rather not write them down.” Kate wrinkled her nose in distaste. “We have tons of photographic evidence, thanks to her selfie addiction. Let’s give Ty’s lawyer a chance to reason with her like she’s a grown-up before we drag students into the mix. I think the fewer people who know what’s going on, the better.”

“I agree.”

Kate stopped when she reached the door. “But someone better clue the AD in before any of this caca goes kablooey.” She smirked. “We both know Mike isn’t a real big fan of surprises.”

“No, he’s not” came a deep voice from the hall. As if conjured, the athletic director stopped in the doorway just behind Kate.

“M-Mike. I didn’t… You were—” Kate stopped short, took a huffy breath, then concluded with a brisk, “Hi.”

Millie chuckled as she watched her friend’s cheeks flush bright red. Nothing better than seeing her kick-ass giantess reduced to a stammering kid caught in the hall without a pass. Their athletic director seemed to enjoy her discomfiture too. Millie couldn’t blame him, really. Kate and Danny’s power play last spring had wedged the man solidly between a rock and a hard place. Mike and Danny had been good friends since their college playing days. Their interwoven personal and professional lives meant Kate, not a socially adept woman to start, had to navigate a whole minefield of awkward each time she encountered her boss.

“Hi, Kate,” Director Samlin replied mildly. Poking his head around her guardian, he nodded to Millie. “Hey, Mil.”

She gave him a regal nod. “Mike.”

Smirking, he nudged Kate, demanding a more equal share of the narrow doorway. “I wanted to let you know Ty came by my office this morning.” Seemingly enjoying their uneasy interest, he let the announcement hang. “He gave me the lowdown on the situation with his ex-wife.” He paused, then heaved a long-suffering sigh. Mike clearly hadn’t forgotten the trouble Kate’s relationship with Danny had given him or the role Millie played in their escapades. “Also, he told me you two are…involved.”

Millie sat up straighter. “I’m—”

He held up a preemptory hand. “I really don’t want to know the details.” Kate snorted, and he manufactured another one of those forbidding stares. “It’s nice to be informed about what’s going on in my programs.”

Millie sighed and pushed back from her desk. “Listen, I don’t want—”

Tilting her head toward Mike, Kate spoke out of the side of her mouth but loud enough to be sure she was heard. “She’s totally in denial about the relationship thing.”

“I am not,” Millie retorted hotly.

Kate grinned, then elbowed their boss in the ribs. “Ha! She admitted it! They’re in a relationship,” she crowed.

Growling her frustration, Millie thrust out an arm, pointing in the direction of Kate’s office. “Go. Out. Bye!”

“So articulate,” Kate murmured with mock admiration. “No wonder you hired her. She’s a linguistic genius.”

“Get!”

Kate blew her a kiss, then ducked out of the doorway, the sound of her throaty laughter lingering after she was gone. Letting out a breath, Millie reclaimed her chair, then gestured for the AD to take the seat her friend had abandoned. “She’s a menace.”

“Danny’s influence. She was always so easygoing before.”

Millie cocked an eyebrow. “Then you have no one to blame but yourself. If you hadn’t hired him, he wouldn’t have had the chance to come in here and warp my friend with his love juju.”

“Love juju?”

“You’re the one who said she hasn’t been the same,” Millie replied with a zing. “And you’re right.” She let her smile spread slowly. “She’s better. But don’t tell her I said so. Her ego is healthy enough already.”

“Agreed.” He strolled oh-so-casually to the guest chair Kate had vacated and took a seat.

The moment he looked up at her, Millie blurted, “Ty and I aren’t in a relationship.”

“All reports to the contrary?”

“Well, I mean, not a relationship-relationship.”

“More of a relationship then,” he commented mildly, imbuing the word with a mysterious third meaning with a slight change in inflection.

“Shut up.”

He laughed then, crossing one ankle over his knee and relaxing into the seat. “I couldn’t care less, Millie.” She started to say something, but he winced and held up both hands in surrender. “I mean, I care. You know, as a friend.” Looking less relaxed by the second, he leaned forward slightly. “As your boss. And his. Whatever.” He threw his hands up. “Tell me we can move past this point in the discussion.”

“We can move on,” she agreed with haste.

“Okay. Well, so you know, no big secret or anything. Other than the thing with Ty’s wife.” He cringed again. “Ex-wife.” He glanced back at the now-empty doorway where Kate had stood. “The alumni are still touchy about Danny. Up until now, Ty has been a favorite, but the publicity around Dante’s leaving school and Mari’s involvement… None of this is Ty’s fault, I know, but I don’t have to explain to you the powers of perception.”

“We’re going to shut this thing down.”

She must have said the words with enough conviction to convince Mike, because he uncrossed his legs and prepared to stand. “Good. Let me know what I can do to help.”

“We’re trying to keep everyone and everything related to the university out of the picture.”

“Best plan of all,” Mike said with an approving nod. “Keep me posted.”

The minute he left, she sagged in her chair. Letting her eyes slide shut, she focused only on her breathing. Air in, air out. In, out. Then she took a mental status report. Her skin felt too tight. The realization brought a ghost of a smile to her lips. Normally, a woman her age would welcome the taut feeling. But this wasn’t an “I feel pretty” kind of thing.

More like she was ready to burst at the seams. Stretched so tight she was tender. Parts of her felt bruised, even though she hadn’t a mark on her. Like someone had loaded her into a tumble dryer and flipped the switch.

A small laugh escaped her, and she opened her eyes.

Denial. She had a reservoir of the stuff buried deep inside her. This was the reserve she tapped into at about the mile-twenty mark. The one that pushed her through the wall. Her ability to spin crap into gold was her magic elixir. Her superpower.

She rolled her shoulders back and wriggled until she sat straight in the chair. No matter what anyone said or thought, she had a heart. The organ itself might be battered and somewhat hardened, but apparently, it was in full working order. And right now, it ached.

She glanced at her watch. Ty had planned to meet his attorney at eleven. She’d planned to sit in her office and wait until he texted or called with a progress report. One more way of standing back. Pretending she wasn’t in this. In love with him. And Kate was right. She wasn’t fooling anyone. Not even herself.

Sitting on the bench, waiting for news wasn’t enough anymore. Time to lace up her shoes and get into the game.

* * *

Millie found Ty slumped at a bus stop outside the lawyer’s office, his head back and his eyes fixed on something in the middle distance. Not wanting to startle him, she cleared her throat, then placed her ever-present tote on the bench beside him. “Is this seat taken?”

He smiled as he lifted his head, but his eyes remained dull and lifeless. “Hey.”

She dropped down on the bench, leaving the bag as a barrier in case she was tempted to crawl into his lap and wrap herself around him, though she knew any attempt at comfort could take a turn inappropriate for public consumption if she touched his sun-warmed skin. “So, did they kick you out?”

He tipped his face up to the sun. “I heard all I needed to hear.”

“Care to share with the class?”

He didn’t look at her. “Are you sure you want to get involved?”

The petulant challenge was weak, but she didn’t hold his pique against him. She’d jerked him back and forth on the topic enough to grant him some leeway. Taking a breath, she let it out slowly, then said, “I am already.”

Her assertion captured his full attention. “What if I find out I’m the father?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. The question was blunt enough to shake the pillar of denial she’d been building her hopes on. She forced a wobbly smile. “Well, I guess my answer depends on whether you intend to get back with your baby mama.”

“No.” He answered with such quick conviction the breath she’d been holding whooshed from her. “But I will be the baby’s father.” He paused. “I mean, if I am the father, I will be a real father to my child. I may be dealing with Mari. At least for the next twenty years or so.”

“Of course you’ll be a father to your child.” Reaching over her bulky bag, she took his hand and laced her fingers though his. “And you’ll be a great one.”

He laughed then. Rough and low. The kind of laugh so laden with disbelief, he couldn’t seem to get any air under it. He closed his eyes, but his grip on her hand tightened. When he looked at her again, his expression was pained. Millie ached to launch herself at him, public spectacles be damned. She wanted to smooth the lines away with her lips and fingers. She’d lock her lips on his and draw the bitterness out of him like snake venom. Which, in a way, it was.

“I dread telling my father. Is that pathetic?” His question pulled her out of her thoughts. He chuckled, but she heard little true happiness in the sound. “Christ, I’m forty-two years old, and I’m scared to tell my dad I might have gotten a girl in trouble.”

“A girl in trouble,” she repeated, his choice of phrasing making her smile. “Yes, you are quite the villain, aren’t you?”

“I’m serious,” he said, scowling at her.

“I know you are.”

Unable to hold back one more second, she reached for him with her free hand. He nestled his cheek into her palm. Dark, curling lashes swept down to shield his eyes, but she didn’t need to see them to know the caress helped.

“I gave up thinking about babies a long time ago. They weren’t in the stars for me. I think maybe because I knew deep down I didn’t want kids.” The confession came out of the blue, but once she started, Millie found herself hard-pressed to stem the flow. “I suppose some people would think that makes me a horrible person. An unnatural woman. But I never felt the…tug or tick or whatever women are supposed to feel. But maybe I just didn’t get that far.” She pressed her hand to her belly. “Not that I don’t like kids. I just never pictured myself having them. I always kind of thought I would make a good aunt. Like Auntie Mame.” She smiled. “I think I’d be really good at the spoiling part. Unfortunately, no siblings, so the aunt thing didn’t work out.”

He returned the smile, his eyes warming. “I bet you would be an awesome auntie.”

“Kate and Danny probably won’t have kids at this point in their lives, but Avery’s younger. She still has time.” The smile widened into a grin as she pictured all the gaudy, glitzy presents she’d heap on her friend’s imaginary children. After all, someone had to contradict the hippie-dippie granola influence in their lives. “And now, maybe you.”

His expression sobered. “Maybe me.” He raised their joined hands to his mouth and brushed feathery kisses across her knuckles. “I don’t want to lose you over this.”

“You won’t,” she whispered.

He raised his gaze to meet hers. “You mean that?”

“Yes.”

He nodded, then lowered their hands to his thigh once more. “We got Mari to agree to a noninvasive prenatal test. That should at least give us some indicator. If we’re not sure of the results, we can try a more invasive procedure, but they’re riskier, and I don’t know if I’d want to take the chance.”

Millie nodded as she digested the information. “No. Right. That makes sense.”

“Either way, paternity won’t be legally determined until they do the testing after the baby is born.”

“I see.”

“Some claim the noninvasive testing is accurate, some say it’s BS, but I think it’s worth trying. I have to know something one way or another.” His expression grew somber. “Either way, I’m in for another six months of limbo. And I thought waiting six weeks for a divorce was bad.”

She gave him a wan smile. “Six weeks was bad.”

He looked her straight in the eye. “I’ve got no right to ask you to go through this with me, but I want to.”

A myriad of questions, answers, and commentary scrolled through her head, but like the crawl at the bottom of a television screen, she ignored them in favor of the headline. “I’ll be here for you.”

His eyes brightened, but his smile was sardonic. “You sure? Up until last night, you were singing a different tune.”

She laughed. “You’d think you’d have learned by now not to listen to anything I say.” Releasing his hand, she swung her bag to the ground and scooted closer until they sat hip to hip. Then she took his hand again. But instead of threading her fingers through his, she raised his arm up over her head and draped his bicep over her shoulder. Settling into the crook of his neck, she patted his chest. “Words are spin, Ty. I’m a woman of action. Pay attention to what I do, not what I say.”

She felt his silent chuckle. “What you do?” he asked.

“I might talk a good game, but I haven’t been able to back it up. No matter what I say, I keep running right back to you.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “True.”

“And not for the cuisine,” she said, adding a wry little laugh. “That pizza you ordered should be registered as some kind of weapon of mass destruction.”

“You didn’t even taste it.”

“And still I ended up worshipping the porcelain god.”

He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Don’t blame my pizza for your questionable choices in liquor consumption. I know undergrads who know better.”

The knots in her stomach tightened. “If you stick with me, this could be your only chance to have a kid of your own.”

He smirked. “You think I looked at you and thought, ‘Now, she looks like a baby-making opportunity’?” Angling his body toward hers, he ran his palm over her messy mop of hair, then traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. “No, Millie, I didn’t choose you because I thought you’d be good breeding stock.”

“Are you saying I wouldn’t be?” She tried to sound affronted, but it was hard with an avalanche of relief shushing through her veins.

He rolled his eyes. “Not at all.” He curled his finger under her chin, and their gazes locked. “When I look at you, I see everything I never knew I needed. You’re smart, funny, and resourceful.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “We won’t even get into the sexy thing, because we’re sitting on a public bench, and I have a hard enough time keeping my hands off you without discussing the finer points.”

“We could discuss them later though.”

He squinted, eyeing her closely. “I’m still reeling a bit. Between you running hot and cold and Mari jerking my chain, I think I might have some whiplash. You’ll forgive me if I’m wary?”

Millie’s cheeks burned, but she managed as much of a nod as his grip would allow. “I get you.”

“You do,” he replied quietly. “Another reason I’m crazy about you.” He lowered his hand, then gently disentangled the other from her grasp. “But I have a whole plateful of crazy right now, so I can’t let myself think too hard about you.”

He sighed and rubbed his palms over his thighs, flattening the knife-edged crease in his trousers. “Now, I’m going to ask you for some space. Ironic, huh?” He laughed again, but the sound came out hollow. “I’m going with Mari for the initial test. Mainly to make sure she shows up. Once we have those results, I’ll be able to think things through. Make up a plan.”

“But until then, you don’t need me around.”

A bitter smirk twisted his lips. “Oh, I’m gonna need you, but I can’t let myself. I need to sort this out on my own.”

“But you know I’ll be here if you need me.”

He looked her full in the eye as he corrected her. “When I need you, Millie.” He planted his hands on his knees and pushed to his feet. “I’ll call you next week.”

“Okay.”

Without another look or touch, he walked away, his back straight, his head high.

Rooted to the spot, she watched him go. His height made him easy to track. The breadth of his shoulders would have made a sculptor weep. Millie watched as he nodded greetings to passersby, stopping occasionally to accept a handshake or a friendly pat on the back. When they were alone, it was easy to forget he was who he was. Easy to believe he belonged to her and only her. But out in the world, he was a person people thought they knew. Someone they believed to be a part of their lives.

And he was.

Each time he led his team onto the court, he took the expectations of thousands of fans with them. The university administration counted on them to represent the school well. The staff basked in the reflected glory the athletic teams brought home. The students’ hopes and dreams lived and died with each basket, touchdown, and home run. Every practice was designed to bring them one step closer to greatness. With the exception of Kate’s Warrior Women’s basketball, the school’s teams were notoriously mediocre. But the cellar dwellers of the country’s toughest conference had more to count on than many top-tier schools.

Every season spawned new hope. Maybe this would be their year. Perhaps this was their chance to come out on top.

Biting her bottom lip, she stared in the direction of Ty’s departure long after he’d disappeared around the corner. He had every right to put her off. She’d been trying to hold him at arm’s length ever since he’d come back from Reno.

Come back to her.

For her.

Despite the gnawing, twisting pain in her gut, she knew she had to let him go for now. It was only right and fair. To both of them, really. For weeks, she’d been telling him to back off, not only because she was afraid of getting in too deep, but also because she was terrified of being his rebound girl. The intensity with which he’d grabbed and held on to her scared her, but it didn’t worry her nearly as much as what he’d do when he found he had an open path to a new life.

He wouldn’t need to settle for a woman who had nothing more to offer than one slightly worse-for-wear heart.

So the tables were turned. Drawing a deep breath, she reached for her tote and swung the bag up onto her lap. Pulling her tablet from its depths, she tapped on the calendar app and started making notations. If she didn’t hear from him in one week’s time, she’d go after him. Baby, no baby. Didn’t matter. She loved him, and she had no doubt she’d love his baby too. Either way, they’d both fought through worse times and come out the other side.

Maybe this was their chance to come out on top.

Blowing the air out of her lungs, she tapped on the messaging application and brought up the string of texts she, Kate, and Avery kept running. She typed with one finger but with what she liked to think was impressive speed. After hearing the little whoosh of the message winging away, she tipped her glasses down onto her nose and waited for their replies.

Almost immediately, the ellipses indicating keyboard action appeared beneath the bubble where she’d typed, Help! I’ve fallen in love and I can’t get up.

Seconds later, Kate’s initials appeared with a simple, Where are you? What do you need?

Almost immediately, Avery chimed in with, Booze is the answer. Calhoun’s?

Millie shook her head and began to type. I’m going home to wallow for a while. My house tonight. Bring ice cream. She stared at the message, then in a new message added, And booze. Another second passed. She tapped out a few more vital letters. And chips.

On it, Kate replied.

I’ll bring chocolate too. Just in case, Avery responded.

Tears filled her eyes, but Millie refused to let them fall. Not until she was safe in her cozy little cottage. Blinking faster than a hummingbird’s wings, she tapped out one last missive. I love you girls.

As she was tucking the tablet back in her bag, it vibrated to indicate a new message arriving. She peeked at the notification and smiled when she saw Avery’s response: Worse than I thought. See you ass app! Then a second later: Damn autocorrect.