by M. L. Broome
“You know, Greer didn’t want to come to Vegas after discovering you’d be there. Not because she hated you, but because she was in love with you. She thought she was slick, but I’m her brother. She was way too interested in where you were and how you were and what gorgeous women you were dating. I knew she had a thing for you. I also knew you had a thing for her, back in the day.” He stands up, pacing the stonework floor. “Do you know the two of you lit up Vegas the second you saw each other? It was like a fucking movie, the way you gravitated to one another. I knew it then, that you two were meant to be together. I also worried if Gigi loved someone that much, it would scare the shit out of her.”
I stroke my beard, smiling despite the pain. “Glad to know I wasn’t the only one all those years.”
“All these years, you’ve had a thing for Greer?”
With a chuckle, I nod, letting her brother in on all my secrets. “Since I was ten. I dated women and screwed plenty more, but it wasn’t like that with Gigi. I wanted to give her three things: my ring, my last name, and my baby in her belly.” Holding up my hands, I wait for Greg’s inevitable wrath. “Too much information? Likely, but it’s the truth. It’s always been the truth.”
“Well, two out of three ain’t bad,” Greg jokes, dodging the napkin I lob at his head. “Maybe after the season, you two can talk.”
“Pfft.”
“I’m serious. If you love her that much, don’t walk away without a fight.”
“You think I’m waiting until after the season ends? No way, man. I can barely make it through a day without her. I’d never survive the next few months.” Sitting forward, I pull the annulment paperwork from my pocket. “Which is why I have a job for you.”
Greg shakes his head, a grin coloring his features. “Does this involve a plane ride back to New York?”
Smiling, I down the rest of my glass with a flourish. “It sure as hell does.”
Chapter 18
Greer
Staring at my reflection, I barely recognize the woman looking back at me. The light went out when I left Ryder, leaving a shell in its stead. With a sigh, I run my hand over my abdomen, wondering how I got into this mess and how in the world I’ll ever get out.
Step one, get a job. Or three. I’m broke and having to borrow a few hundred dollars off my mother while crashing on her couch is an all-time low for me. Thankfully, I have an interview later today, although I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate. Ryder’s race, his inaugural run after his life-threatening injury, is tomorrow afternoon in California.
Every sporting channel is aflutter with excitement over his return. My heart is filled with anticipatory dread that the man I love will get hurt again. Such different priorities between fans and family.
Then there are the photos of Ryder with his arms around adoring fans, basking in the glory he’s rightfully earned. It’s ironic, but the photos somewhat soothe the pain of our separation.
Ryder bounced right back, as if nothing ever happened.
My heart will take a lot longer to recover.
Walking into the living room, I stop dead in my tracks. There, with coffee and a shit-eating grin, stands my brother.
“Greg? What are you doing here?”
“Visiting my sad sop of a sister,” he replies, handing me a coffee. “Here’s some caffeine to soothe the savage beast.”
With a shake of my head, I decline his offering. “Thanks, but I’m off caffeine.”
The grin widens, complete with Greg’s infamous head tilt. “Jillian quit caffeine when she found out she was pregnant.”
“Good to know.” I’m not having this conversation. Not here and definitely not now.
Apparently, Greg has other ideas. “You’re pregnant.” It’s not a question, rather a declaration. One I can’t deny.
My mother joins us in the living room, pulling her son into a hug. “She is, but she won’t admit it.”
With a grunt, I throw up my hands in resignation. “Fine. I’m pregnant, okay? Are you two happy now? Can I return to being a sad sop?”
Greg shakes his head. He’s not letting me off that easily. “No can do. Does Ryder know?”
I groan, flopping back against the couch. “Not yet.”
“Gigi—”
“Don’t Gigi me. I’m going to tell him, Greg. I figured I’d wait until after the season ends.”
“That’s not for a few months. You’ll pop out the kid before then.” Greg sits next to me, a stern expression coloring his face. “He deserves to know.”
“Relax. I would never keep this information—or his child—from him. I don’t even know how he’ll take the news, considering our current situation.” It figures. For most people, discovering you’re pregnant is the greatest news on the planet, complete with elation and celebration. For me, it’s yet another situation I have to figure out, with limited funds and an uncertain future.
Like I told Ryder, I knew I’d wake up from the fairytale and find it all to be a dream.
“About that.” Greg pulls a manila envelope from his bag, tossing it on my lap.
“Is this what I think it is? I’ve been served by my own brother. How quaint.” Picking up the envelope, I chuck it on the coffee table. “At least Ryder took the news well, judging by all the photos of him with gorgeous women decorating the internet.”
“Those are stupid promo shots. Trust me, he’s not in a good way, which concerns the hell out of me, considering he’s about to race. But he’s hopeful his list of demands in response to your annulment will help the situation.”
“His list of demands? Greg, I’m broke. I’m living on Mom’s couch. Let me guess, he’s billing me for room and board?” Despite my internal mantra that I won’t crack, the tears roll down my cheeks. “I can’t pay it.”
Greg grabs me about the neck, pulling me to him. “Open the damn envelope.”
Why delay the inevitable, right? Doesn’t matter how long I wait, the contents will remain the same.
With a grunt, I pull it open, scanning the first page. “It’s the agreement Mr. Givens drew up. Doesn’t look like anything is out of order—what the hell?”
It is the agreement Mr. Givens drew up, except that my husband has written all over the damn thing. He’s crossed out paragraphs, changed every instance of Greer Hammond to Greer Gray, scribbled no way in hell by the sections where I requested nothing—it’s a mess.
It’s also the most illegal legal document I’ve ever seen.
Flipping to the last page, I see a note from Ryder, penned in his neat hand.
* * *
Are you done being mad at me? I told you before, Gigi, I’m not divorcing you. I’ll fight you until the end of our lives and I know I have more money than you do, although you are now debt-free. Yes, I paid off everything.
No way was my wife going to worry over something as trivial as money. Not when she has me to worry about. And I know you do.
I also know you love me, so if you’re willing to give me one last chance, here’s a ticket to California.
I need my cheerleader. I need my wife.
P.S. Tell Greg to give you the other package. Figured I’d sweeten the deal a bit.
* * *
“He’s not divorcing me,” I remark with a dry laugh, tears dripping down my nose. “What else do you have?”
With great ceremony, Greg pulls a small box from his pocket. The aquamarine color is unmistakable—Tiffany’s.
I’ve never been inside the store. What was the point? I couldn’t afford anything in there, although I did plan that one day, I’d walk inside and order some grand piece of jewelry, nary a care to the cost.
My heart pounds as I take the box and peek inside.
It’s empty, save for a piece of paper.
* * *
If you want it, come get it. Get your gorgeous ass on the plane next to your brother.
* * *
“This is Ryder’s idea of romance?”
Greg and my mother exchange a smirk before
bursting into laughter.
“I think it’s pretty good, all things considered,” my mother adds, her eyes twinkling. “How can you say no to Ryder Gray? That man has loved you his entire life. Besides, I’m champing at the bit to see that ring.”
“Might not be a ring,” I manage, although I’m right there with her. I’d love to know what was originally in that box, too.
“I think we all know it’s a ring. One so gigantic you won’t be able to lift your hand.”
My mother is trying to maintain a lighthearted atmosphere, but those niggling fears still circle in my head. I was forgotten once before when Ryder got caught up in the glory of his former life. What if second-fiddle is the best I can ever hope for? The little woman at home, waiting for her celebrity husband to grace her with his presence.
That’s not what I had in mind when I said yes to Ryder’s proposal. But maybe the man in Barbados and the man who lost his sight isn’t the real Ryder Gray. Perhaps I envisioned a man who doesn’t exist, created by my fanciful imagination.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t?” Wonderful, now they’re speaking in stereo.
“Mom, I’m so afraid of ending up…” I struggle for the right words, if there are any.
She wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. “Like me? I don’t want you to end up like me, either. But honey, with the path you’re on, you’ll wind up far lonelier than I ever was. Your father was wrong for leaving the way he did, but he’s paid a hefty price.”
“He hasn’t paid at all,” I snap, my anger flashing at the mention of the man.
“He lost his family. His only daughter won’t speak to him. He’s spent the last several holidays alone.”
“He deserves it.”
“When is it enough, Greer? You’re not only punishing him, but you’re punishing yourself, and you have been for years. You keep everyone at a distance, thinking it keeps you safe. It keeps you alone and you deserve all the love in the world, but you have to let it in. Let Ryder love you the way he’s always wanted. He messed up, but he’s not giving up. Doesn’t that say something?”
Her words turn on the waterworks, the sobs racking my body. My mother is right. I am alone, and I don’t want to be anymore.
But that knowledge doesn’t eradicate the fear holding my heart hostage.
The fear that I’ll love Ryder and then I’ll lose him.
“What if something terrible happens to Ryder? What if he dies?”
My Mom smooths my hair, sending me a soft smile. “You’re going to pass on your soulmate because he might die? Spoiler alert—we’re all going to die. Ryder is offering you a chance to live. Question is, will you take it?”
Greg sleeps the entire flight to California, while I think—and rethink—my decision to drop everything and run to Ryder’s side. I’ve done this once before and it didn’t end well.
I’m not convinced there’s room in his life for me, but at least I’ll be there to root for him.
Be his cheerleader.
Then, I’ll tell him about my pregnancy and take it from there.
There’s also the worry that Ryder indulged with one, or several, of the half-naked beauties captured by his side, although Greg swears that isn’t the case. My heart tells me my brother is correct.
Then again, my heart is an idiot.
By the time we land, Greg is raring to go and I’m halfway between nauseous and anxious. Not a fun place to be.
But I follow Greg through the myriad of buildings and trailers set up for the race, practically running to keep up with him. My heart pounds like a runaway train, and I only pray it doesn’t infarct before I see Ryder.
Stepping into the team’s trailer, I spot Colton, who lights up when he sees me.
“I’m sure as hell glad to see you,” Colton says, pulling me into a hug. “Do you know that man never shuts up about you?”
Despite the nerves, I chuckle. “A woman likes to know she’s missed.”
“The man is lost without you. Don’t repeat that, because he might want to kick my ass, but it’s true.” Colton nods at Greg, who’s already by the vehicle, helping with last-minute tuneups.
“Where is the man of the hour?”
Colton jerks his thumb over his shoulder, motioning to a closed door. “Taking some time to himself. Get on in there.”
Knocking the door with a trembling hand, I hear Ryder’s familiar grunt from the other side. Pushing it open, I see him, his head in his hands.
“Colton, I really need some time, man.”
“I’ll let Colton know.”
His head flies up, eyes wide as relief crosses his face. “Gigi? You’re here. Thank God you’re here.” He’s across the space in two strides, enveloping me in his arms.
I melt into his embrace, those dang tears once again rolling down my face. “I had to respond to your demands regarding our annulment.”
Ryder smiles, peppering my face with kisses. “I’m not divorcing you. You can fight me in court. Better yet, be my wife forever.”
But despite his bravado and the electricity sparking through the air, my heart thuds at the unknown. “You’re really doing this?”
“I have to, Gigi. I have to prove to myself that I’m still Ryder Gray.” His lips seize mine, the desperation evident in his kiss. “But you were wrong. I’ve always loved you more than racing.”
“Five minutes, Ryder,” Colton’s voice sounds from the other side of the door.
Cupping his face, I press a hard kiss to his mouth. “Stubborn ass.”
Ryder’s eyes—those beautiful blue eyes—are bright with emotion. “Will you stay?”
“Of course. I even brought my pompoms.”
“I don’t mean the race. Will you stay with me? I didn’t wait twenty years to marry you, only to lose you a few months in. I love you, Gigi. My world is nothing without you.”
All my insecurities race to the forefront of my brain, vying for position. But, with a deep breath, I kick them back where they belong. “I know it’s terrible timing, and you said this wasn’t a path you desired anymore, but I have something to tell you.” Grabbing his hand, I place it on my stomach. “You’re going to be a dad, Ryder. So, you’d better get out there and win.”
I hold my breath, awaiting his reaction. Unsure if I should have said anything.
The brightness in Ryder’s eyes increases as he tangles his fingers in my hair, resting his forehead against mine. “I was so afraid something happened to the baby.”
Pulling back, my gaze widens in surprise. “You knew?”
He nods, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around my waist. “The way you smelled and tasted changed. It was so slight, but it was there. You were even more appealing than before and trust me, I already want to jump you twenty-four hours per day.”
“You’re not angry?”
Glancing up at me, I wish I could freeze Ryder’s smile forever. “It’s the greatest news in the world. You’re having my baby. Three for three.”
“What?”
“Inside joke with Greg and me.” Popping to his feet, his mouth claims me again, his tongue demanding everything I have. “I love you, Greer Gray, and I’m going to win, for both of you.”
With a final kiss, he walks out the door, my heart racing like a locomotive. All I can manage is a whisper of love and a prayer for his safety.
I stand toward the back of the crowd, my hands clenched as my eyes dart between the screen and everywhere else in the room. To say I’m a nervous wreck would be the understatement of the century.
Gazing to my right, I note a beautiful brunette. Even with her designer sunglasses covering her eyes, I feel her gaze upon me. No telling who she is or what her relationship is to Ryder, but that doesn’t matter right now.
Returning my focus to the race, I realize Ryder is winning. Digging my nails into my palm, I can’t breathe as he maneuvers around the track, seizing the inside corner. Within seconds, he crosses the line to the wa
ving of the checkered flag.
Ryder Gray just won his first race back after a life-threatening injury. That crazy, insane, amazing man did it.
He’s back on top of the world, and the crowd knows it, their cries drowning out even the roar of the motors. When the cameras focus on Ryder exiting his vehicle, the stands go insane. They all know he accomplished the unfathomable.
Talk about a comeback king.
When he takes his rightful place on the podium, I can see the giddiness on his face as he sprays his adoring public with champagne.
What a moment.
What a man.
I’m jostled from all sides as the crowd pushes closer, desperate for a piece of Ryder Gray.
He belongs to the world again. I always said one day I’d have to give him back.
After being bumped one too many times, I slip to the side, letting the throng of people pass.
Once again, that feeling of uncertainty settles over me, the nagging idea that I’m in the way, much as I am for the crowd of fans. It’s been such a whirlwind romance, Ryder and I, that it’s hard to know where my place is, or if I even have one.
Then my stomach rumbles, reminding me I need food, and I need it now.
I recall seeing a nacho stand across the way. Time to tame this beast of a belly.
A hand grabs my arm, and I whip around, staring at the same brunette from earlier. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m hungry.” Not a lie, even if this strange woman did throw me with her direct question.
“Come on, the team has far better food.” Without asking permission, she links her arm through mine, weaving through the crowd and flashing a smile at security guarding the team’s trailers. “I’ve been waiting years to meet you. I damn near called you myself.”
“Me?” After the events of the last couple of months, I feel like I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole, where nothing makes any sense.
“Yes, Greer Gray, you. I’m Rylee Donavan, Colton’s wife.”
