What The Fuck

Sitting around the back bar, a section reserved explicitly for Jags players after home games, surrounded by the best friends a girl could ask for, I still can’t help but be a little distracted after the texts I received from Frankie Frangula right after the game.

FF-boy

You should have told me you were in town so I could take you on a date.

I didn’t reply. I’m here for one reason, and he’s not it.

My ass vibrates, and I pull my phone out of my back pocket, seeing he’s sent another.

FF-boy

My ego can’t take another hit. Don’t leave me hanging, sweet thing.

I roll my eyes and tap on the screen.

Me

Busy.

The last time we hooked up, marriage was brought up. He had the balls to tell me that he might find a trophy wife when he’s fifty and knock her up so he had a kid to carry on his name.

I laughed it off because I see myself married in no ordinary situation, but the closer I get to thirty-five, the more I’m forced to think about it. When I think about it, I remember the guy whose dick had been in me twenty minutes prior was talking about his future with a trophy wife.

As I shove my phone in my pocket, I notice Roman Hart, the second baseman, walking toward our group. I watch CeCe Shaw, Chloe’s little sister, shift in her seat.

Standing across from her, Roman extends his hand to Chloe. “You must be Cecilia’s sister. I’m Roman, the next-door neighbor.”

I tuck that bit of information away as I watch CeCe’s face turn pink and Chloe’s smile stretches across her entire face as she shakes his hand.

“I’m Chloe. It is a pleasure to meet you. CeCe didn’t tell me her neighbor played for the Jags.”

He chuckles. “Not sure she knew.”

This is so much better than my drama.

CeCe shakes her head. “Nope. Didn’t know. I just met him when his pup was trying to poop in my yard.”

“Actually, we met at a concert the night before,” he says, eyes seriously dancing.

“Is that so?” Chloe asks, slowly turning to face CeCe.

She shields her face with the brim of a Jags hat. “What I meant was that I didn’t know he was my neighbor until the next day.”

“Make way. The Roman Hart Fan Club is in the house!” a voice booms through the bar.

“You’d better go greet your fan club.” CeCe narrows her eyes at him.

I silently thank that lucky star of mine because, yes, this is totally better than my two-player drama. Chloe will put all that energy into getting CeCe to let down her guard and live a little.

He gives her a smirk, and yeah, he’s got a great one.

Fucking baseball players with their giant egos after a win—so hot.

“I suppose I should. You wanna come or …?”

“What?” she cuts him off.

Grinning, he walks away.

“You have two minutes to process, and then you need to spill all the beans, CeCe Shaw.” Chloe claps after saying this. She then fixes her eyes on me. “BTW, Leland Locke just walked in. Please tell me it is him who’s been texting you tonight.”

“Or is it that one?” Whit nods toward the front.

I glance over and groan when I see Leland and Frankie, both heading in this direction. This situation is fucked with a capital F, multiplied by two—no, make that three, since I happen to be here in Trenton the same damn week the Jags are playing the Mavericks.

Feeling eyes burning into the side of my face, I glance over and see Whit, Chloe, and Chloe’s husband, Danny, all pretending to hold back their amusement and doing a shit job of it.

“Laugh it up, assholes,” I mumble before taking another drink.

“How long’s it been since you and Locke were in the same room? Grandpa Locke’s wake?” Chloe asks.

I glare at her for show but secretly celebrate the idea that none of them know about my minor indiscretion a few weeks ago.

“Not long enough,” I huff.

Honestly, it hasn’t been nearly long enough for me to forget about how infuriatingly perfect his touch is, or how long it takes to stop wondering how the hell his dick was the first ever inside of me—Little Texas. Yep, Leland Locke knows his dick is well above average. Hell, he’s known it his whole life, since he’s the one who named it Little Texas.

“Oh shit,” Whit says, snapping me out of my stupor.

And that’s when I see it. A heated exchange between Locke and Frankie is obviously escalating.

The air crackles with tension, and shouting and grunting fill the space, drowning out the background music. At first, it’s just raised voices and aggressive gestures. But, soon enough, fists are flying, and glasses shatter against the wooden floor as they knock over a pub table. Next, the brawl spills across the room, and chairs topple over right in front of us.

Now, I am the first girl in the middle of a fight, attempting to break it up. Right now, though, I watch with a mix of shock and fascination, with my heart pounding in my chest as the chaos continues.

Is it okay that I find it a turn-on? No, and part of me wants to look away, but another part is captivated by the raw intensity of the scene playing out before me.

“Where’s Chloe!” Danny yells, snapping me out of my trance.

What the fuck is wrong with you?I ask myself as I begin to panic.

“She’s … They’re … Oh my?—”

“Roman Hart grabbed her and CeCe,” Whitley cuts me off.

“Come on.” I clutch Whitley’s hand and maneuver us through the crowd as Danny and Pope break up the fight.

We make it to them in seconds, but seconds are crucial, so crucial. I’m fucking pissed at myself.

“York,” Whit says soothingly. “She’s fine. They’re fine.”

As two big guys drag Frankie out of the bar, he yells to me, “What the fuck, Gwen?”

I glance at Danny and Whit. “I have to go have at least a conversation with him. Can you two?—”

“Go. We’re good.” Danny winks.

I try to shake off the adrenaline rush as I hurry out of the bar.

As soon as he sees me, he yells, “You and I had an agreement. You fuck Locke again, you and I are?—”

Oh no, he didn’t.

“I’m not sure it was an agreement or something you?—”

He storms toward me, points a finger in my face, and I don’t even flinch. “You fucked him when you were home?—”

“First, get your finger out of my face before you’re added to the injured player list,” I say so calmly, even I’m impressed with myself. “Second, it’s been months since you and I have run into each other.”

He stands there, waiting for me to continue, and I don’t.

He throws his hands in the air. “And what’s third?”

I shake my head. “There is no third.”

“The fuck there isn’t,” he seethes and steps toward me.

“The lady said there is no third. Now, walk it back to second. You know where that is, right? That base you didn’t get past the entire damn?—”

I whirl around and point at Locke. “Get back inside. I don’t need your input!”

“Gwendolyn York, as always, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” He holds his hand to his heart.

“Do not speak to me!” I yell—yes, yell at him.

To this, he grins.

Motherfucker.

I turn and look at Frankie, completely enraged at these two grown-ass men both thinking it’s okay to talk about my damn sex life like I’m some whore. If that’s the case, what the hell are they?

Men. They’re fucking men.

“I may have fucked him, but as you know, sex is sex to me. Whatever you and Locke have going on seems complicated, a toxic relationship I never agreed to enter into. The two of you need to work that out amongst yourselves.”

Frankie points at Locke. “You need to stop pissing on my fucking parade.”

“I don’t want to piss on your parade, you damn clown; I wanna blow up all your little floats with my confetti cannon.”

The way he said it, laughing … I just can’t with him.

One of the bouncers who dragged Frankie out chuckles. “All right, get your ass inside, Locke.”

Danny, Chloe, CeCe, Pope, and Whit all walk out.

Whit asks, “You ready to get out of here?”

“Hell yes, I am.”

“See you around, Gwendolyn York,” Leland says, and I can just picture the easy smile on his stupid face.

Inside the SUV, Chloe buckles in then turns back. “That was hawt!”

Danny starts the vehicle. “Guess I should add pick a fight with every guy who ogles my wife to my list of ways to stir her up.”

She playfully smacks him on the shoulder then looks at CeCe. “Also hawt the way Roman Hart was all?—”

“Nope,” CeCe cuts her off. “I am not talking about him.”

* * *

Chloe and Danny followed Pope and Whit to their place outside of town to pick up their daughter, Aggie, who stayed with Whit and Pope’s five kids and their nanny so we could have one adult night out before it’s time to really dig in, get past the hard talks, and then get to work.

Pope and Whit’s house is huge—this is not surprising for a family of seven, plus a nanny—but it still takes my breath away every time. For the past six years, I’ve traveled all over the country, chasing leads and meeting clients, staying at hundreds of hotels, and none of them could touch the comfort of this place.

Their home has four levels—four. Inside their massive house is a chef’s kitchen, eight bedrooms, nine full and three half-baths, a total of twenty-five rooms, all of which Marks and I wired with a security system that makes me almost as hot as baseball pants. They have a pool with a cabana, a putting range, a bowling alley in the basement, and a guest house where I typically stay. They also have an eight-car garage, which is home to Whit and Pope’s vehicles, both massive SUVs, which is required to travel with all their little ones, and Pope’s old Bronco that he won’t get rid of because that’s where he and Whit lost their V-cards to each other. The rest of the space is filled with kid”s bikes, ATVs, skates, and all that kind of thing.

The home is situated in a gated community with just four homes, and it has twenty-four-hour security. No one can get in undetected.

I’m staying in the main house tonight so Whit, Pope, and I can chat to prepare them for the one Chloe will have with Whit tomorrow. This was Danny’s idea. He wanted to ensure Whit didn’t lose it, which would make Chloe do the same. She’s been through enough. Both she and her sister have been through so fucking much.

After a shower, I head down to the kitchen where we decided to meet for tea.

When I walk out, it’s just Whit, not Pope.

“He go to bed?” I ask as I sit down.

Pushing a cup toward me, she shakes her head. “He went to check on the team. Nora woke up when Danny scooped Aggie up.”

“Twelve, I cannot believe she’s freaking twelve.” I shake my head.

She laughs. “Me neither.”

“And five freaking kids.” I smile. “You were always an overachiever.”

“It was so easy with Nora and Bianca. When Gregory and Grant came along, that’s when we lost control.” She laughs. “Twins; who’d have thought?”

“Then we said fuck it; we’re already overrun, so let’s do it again,” Pope says, entering the room.

They smile at each other and say, “Chase,” simultaneously.

“If Danny and Chloe didn’t have to deal with infertility, they’d have more than us, and Chloe would have them all in a line, making me look like a hot mess of a mom.” Whit smiles as she leans back into Pope, who’s standing behind her, hands on the counter, caging her in.

“That’s a great lead into what I need to talk to the two of you about,” I say, placing my cup on the marble countertop.

“Please tell me she’s pregnant and doesn’t have to continue this round of fertility,” Whit says hopefully.

“You’d have heard that news first.”

“You’re freaking me out. Just spill it.”

“Okay.” I clear my throat and inhale deeply to prepare to tell them everything I’ve just learned about Chloe and CeCe Shaw. “Fifteen-year-old Eleanor Center was adopted by her stepfather, William, after he married her mother. Together, they had Allison. Her mother died when Eleanor was seven and Allison was three. For six years, William groomed Eleanor to believe she was her mother’s replacement. At thirteen, he began raping her.”

“I don’t understand what?—”

Pope wraps his arm around his wife and pulls her close, his face showing he’s already caught on. “Whit, you will.”

I’ve been doing a hell of a job not getting emotional, but right now, my eyes are on fire, and that sick feeling I’ve had since learning about all of this makes me feel like I may throw up.

“She tried to turn him in, but he was a wealthy and famous lawyer. He ended up institutionalizing her for mental health issues and not wanting her behavior to affect Allison. Allison was questioned. Being a kid, and no doubt threatened by him, she told the caseworkers he wasn’t abusive. Case closed. Eleanor was placed in a facility for unruly teens.

“Eleanor was found to be pregnant and told the facility it was her boyfriend from school, and the information wasn’t given to William. Apparently, she had rights when it came to that, but not the right to justice as a rape victim. When Eleanor was forced to choose to give the child up for adoption or it would be placed into foster care, it wasn’t a difficult decision. She was even able to help pick them from people on a very long list.

“She stuck a note in the baby’s blanket, and it was the adoptive parents of her little girl who were able to confirm her allegations. No court in the country, not even in California, could deny DNA. The people who adopted her child also helped her find a foster home for her and her sister.

“When they were taken to collect their belongings, Eleanor was able to shove valuable belongings, like designer bags, several pieces of jewelry, and other valuable items, into her bag. She sold it all online and had enough money to buy fake identification for both girls and bus tickets so that she and her little sister could find a home of their own, where no one knew them or their story. Their new beginning started in Walton, Texas.”

Tears falling, Whit wipes them away and whispers, “Chloe.”

I continue, “Old man Summerland rented her the camping trailer, no questions asked, and Pope’s mom convinced Nancy to hire who she thought was a relative of his, a fifteen-year-old girl, to wash dishes at the diner.”

“Of course she did.” Whit sniffs. “All of that, and then she gets mixed up with an abusive boyfriend and—” Whit stops and lets out a pain-filled sob. “Thank God she’s loved, safe, and?—”

She stops talking when I shake my head.

I continue. “William Center was released from prison. Marks and one of the guys we hired have eyes on him. She’s afraid he will try to find her baby doll.” Another tear falls. “That’s what she calls the child she had at fifteen—baby doll.”

“Does she have contact with the adopted parents?”

“She knew their names, but it was a closed adoption. And then everything with William …” I lift a shoulder. “No. After the court hearing, her parents changed their names and left California. Chloe asked that they never tell her the truth. She just wanted her to have a good and loving home and never to know anything about William.”

“She’s so strong.”

“She’s amazing,” I agree. “And being Chloe, she needs to know that her baby doll is safe, which brought me here. We have reason to believe that the family moved to Trenton or the surrounding area.”

“Does she want to meet her?” Whit asks.

“She wants to make sure that son of a bitch can’t touch her, or CeCe.” I exhale a sigh. “Cecilia’s life is going to be turned upside down. She doesn’t even know their secrets had secrets.”

“Jesus,” Pope sighs.

“CeCe will understand.” I pick up my cup and take a sip, hoping the lavender will calm my nerves.

“You going to be able to find her?” Pope asks.

“With the internet, my mom, and her …” I pause because we all have little secrets, and I’m not ready to divulge all mine, not yet, maybe never. But this part of my life, it’s not something I need to hide anymore. They’re a couple. “Her Annie is back in Walton, living their best lives and doing all my grunt work.”

“Deborah and Annie official?” Whit asks, and I damn near choke on my tea.

“We’re not blind.” Pope chuckles.

“They are what they are—happy. So happy.” I smile. “And even after four years, in their words, ‘We are not going to be flying rainbow flags or attending marches; leave that for the younger people.’ They love each other as millions of other people do, but they’re at an age and place where they no longer need to explain it, nor do they want to deal with ignorance that may come with their explanation. They don’t need affirmation or to be labeled as bisexual, or lesbian, or whatever. Both have loved men, and both have loved one woman.” I roll my eyes. “Plus, the whole pronoun thing confuses them.”

“Love is love.” Pope nods.

That makes me smile. “Yeah, love is love.”

“So, does that mean you’ll allow yourself to?—”

“Whitley, I will cut you,” I warn.

“Knowing that’s not something I have to worry about”—Pope arches his brow at me as he kisses the top of Whit’s head—“I’m going to head to bed and give you two some girl time.”

Whit moves to the other side of the island and sits on the barstool beside me. “What’s the plan with CeCe?”

“Chloe wants me to move in with her for a while,” I answer, glad we’re back on task.

“Until she’s done with this round of fertility treatments?”

I nod then take a sip of my tea.

“And CeCe?”

“She will find out everything you did tomorrow.”

“How are she and Danny doing?”

“They’re Chloe and Danny.” I smile softly.

* * *

Tuesday

Ihardly got a minute’s sleep last night with texts from Frankie, who was clearly intoxicated. I reminded him that it’s been over a year since last we drunkenly hook-up and only five or six of those nights in nearly a decade, and the phone calls and texts didn’t constitute a relationship; it was a convenience and a connection.

He offered one, with the possibility of “more.” He texted that if I’d stop playing cops and robbers, he might even give me his last name.

I kindly declined.

Then, I eventually stopped responding.

I plan to block him when he has a sober moment to reread the nonsense he sent and hope he realizes how ridiculous he’s being. Shutting down my phone was not an option, especially not right now, so I endured the alerts.

All. Night. Long.

Chloe and Danny came over to the Paul family home after CeCe went to work at her veterinary clinic. Aggie didn’t want to leave and wanted me to stay with her. This worked out because that way, Chloe and CeCe would be able to chat without Aggie interruptions, which, in normal circumstances, are adorable, and Danny was armed with instructions to begin setting up a real security system at CeCe’s, not that damn doorbell cam she has.

With Aggie asleep in my arms, her little head on my shoulder, I yawn as I stare out the window.

“Tired?” Whit asks.

“I’ve spent the day with six wonderful kids. All smart and funny and so much more, but they’re still kids. So, yes, Whit, I’m freaking”—I yawn again—“exhausted.”

We then see Chloe pulling down the driveway.

Whit leans her lead on my free shoulder. “York, she’s got to be more exhausted than all of us.”

* * *

Everyone is quiet during the thirty-minute ride from Whit’s to CeCe’s house. CeCe looks a bit shaken but, more than that, concerned. To me, that’s a true sign of strength and shows how much these two love one another.

Chloe breaks the silence. “Wait until you see CeCe’s place.”

“It’s especially nice in the late spring and summer,” CeCe says.

“She loves her flower gardens,” Chloe clarifies, no doubt just to keep the conversation going.

“You and Whit should get together and talk flowers,” I add to the conversation. “She and Pope are obsessed with theirs.”

“Do you garden?” CeCe asks.

“I respect plant life too much to partake,” I admit, and they both laugh politely.

After a few more seconds of silence, I receive a text.

Marks

Deb and Annie checked out all the surrounding neighbors. All good. There are lots of vacant buildings around her vet clinic. Check out the area tomorrow. I want a system there, too.

Me

Will do. Everything good on your end?

Marks

Predictable patterns. Time will tell.

Me

Make sure you get some sleep.

Marks

You do the same.

Pulling down CeCe’s street, I spot her big Victorian house.

“I was feeling bad about cramping your style, CeCe, but damn, that house is way bigger than I thought it would be.”

“It’s big. Not Pope and Whit big, but?—”

“Bigger than any place I’ve ever lived,” I interrupt her as she downplays her accomplishment.

“Yeah. Me, too,” she says quietly.

“You worked hard for this; you should be so damn proud of yourself.” Chloe beams proudly at her sister.

“Without yours and Danny’s help”—she shakes her head—“I wouldn’t have this or Wags.”

“You went through vet school. We didn’t do that,” Chloe says, slowing down to turn into the driveway. “You’re killing it, CeCe.”

“I think you should grab her. I don’t want her to wake up and wonder where the heck she is,” CeCe says, purposely changing the direction of the conversation.

As if on cue, Aggie’s little eyes open. Still sucking on two fingers, she takes in her surroundings then asks, “Gwenie stay with Auntie CeCe, too?”

“She is.” Chloe smiles like nothing in the world is amiss.

“When we go home, Gwenie come to our house, too?”

“I won’t be far behind, Texas Aggie.” I wink at her. “You’d better save me a grape juice box.”

“Okay.” She turns to the window and points. “Daddy on a ladder with the doggy’s daddy.”

Chloe’s lips twitch up as she parks beside my car. “He is. Let’s go say hi.”

I wag my brows at CeCe, and she blushes. Then we all pile out.

I leave them to their whisperings and head over to check on the system.

“What do you think, York?” Danny asks from two stories up.

“You do good work.”

Holding just the sides, he slides down the ladder. “My greatest creation was Aggie.” He turns and holds out his hands, and Aggie dives into his arms. He hugs her as he tries to kiss Chloe, but she steps back.

“We need you, Daniel Aiken. Don’t do stupid S-H-I-T, like come down a ladder like that.”

“Mommy cross with you?” Aggie asks him.

“That’s how Mommy flirts with Daddy,” Danny jokes.

“You’re an A-S-S,” Chloe replies, trying to hide her amusement.

“Let’s go see how the ribs are doing.” Danny kisses Aggie’s cheek then looks at Roman. “We owe you a meal for the help today. Come eat. Bring Elle.”

“Puppy!” Aggie exclaims, and I follow the three of them in.

Inside, Danny holds up his phone. “Check it out?”

I nod and do just that while trying to stay engaged.

* * *

Once we’ve cleaned up, Roman Hart has left and Aggie is sound asleep. Chloe, Danny, CeCe, and I sit on the couch.

Chloe smiles at CeCe. “You like him.”

CeCe shrugs. “He’s likable.”

“We like him,” Danny says. “York, too.”

I nod because they are freaking adorable together. He’s in deep, too, and doesn’t hide it. I once had a guy like that, but at eighteen, I was nowhere near ready to give up my dreams and become a wife who lived her husband’s instead.

CeCe and Roman have worked hard to achieve their dreams, succeeded, and have great careers. At the least, they should give it a shot. The worst thing that could happen is that the distance would break them apart. But it doesn’t have to be like that. Pope and Whit have a fantastic life.

Even when she missed working as a nurse, Pope supported her decision to pick up shifts at Mercy West Hospital. Now, with five kids, she doesn’t work outside of the home. After spending the day with them, I think she should pick up a shift here and there to give herself a freaking break.

CeCe sighs. “You all realize that arranged marriages haven’t been the norm since the 1700s, right? Never did catch on here in the US.”

“What your brother-in-law is saying is that Rome has a clean record—I looked him up. He’s got no record.” Mom and Annie did the digging. “I like him because he has a good ass and eyes. Chloe likes him because when you let down your guard, you’re all smiles and have goo-goo eyes.”

“I do not,” she defends.

I wave her off and continue, “Danny likes him because he’s a guy’s guy. Aggie likes him because he’s attentive, fun, and has an adorable puppy.”

Chloe adds, “Pope says he’s not ego-driven, celebrates everyone’s little victories, and isn’t annoying, like most rookies.”

“I also like his brother. Did you know he plays pro football for the Knights? And when I asked him who his favorite player was, he told me Roman Hart.” Danny smiles. “His brother’s his hero. Strong family bonds. And Hudson’s a damn hoot.”

“Hudson’s entertaining—I’ll give him that.” CeCe pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and covers herself with it.

Danny stands up, walks over, and kisses the top of her head. “He’s a good one. There’s not many of us left.” He then kisses Chloe’s cheek.

York huffs, “Not disagreeing, but you said the same thing about your asshole friend, Leland Locke, and look what he did last night.”

“Oh no, you don’t. I’m not stepping into that beehive. You sort that shit for yourself, York. And do it soon. I can’t wait to slap the bitch off Frankie’s face.”

Unable to not make it uncomfortable, I respond with, “That bitch on his face was sometimes me, Danny. He’s a good time.”

Was … He was a good time until he showed his ass and disrespected me, I remind myself.

“Oh my God.” CeCe covers her face, and Chloe laughs.

Danny waves me off and heads to the bedroom. “Good night, wife. I love you.”

“I’ll be in soon.”

“Bow chicka bow wow,” I call after him.

Danny starts swaying his hips, and Chloe smiles from ear-to-ear, watching her husband act like the guy he’s always been.

“Never a dull moment?” CeCe asks Chloe.

“Not one.” She takes her hand. “I want that for you.” She looks at me. “And you.”

“You all want me back with Leland. That’s never going to happen.” I shake my head. “What is going to happen is, I’m going to find the young woman you asked me to find, and then you can decide what you want to do.” I turn to CeCe. “I dug into your friends—solid girls and rich as hell, both of them.”

“They work hard.”

“None of them have to. The O’Donnell girls have Daddy’s money, but Francesca, she’s got Daddy’s daddy’s money. Filthy rich.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me anymore. I don’t want to look at them differently.” She pouts.

“Understood. You wanna show me my room?”

“Yep.” We stand together. “You can have your pick. There are four empty ones upstairs.”

“This place is massive.”

“It’s pretty awesome,” she says, and this time, with a smile.