Chapter 26

I roll over to face the doorway as Layla closes it and leans against it, letting out a long sigh. I push Margot's Rays bear toward her and then stand up, moving across the kitchen area, where Layla has a small table pushed against the wall, and meet her by the door.

"Is everything okay?" I want to pull her close to me. Everything about the way she was hiding in the small gap she'd made with the door when I walked up had me on high alert. To notice that it was Jack Williams at the door only made my concern for her ratchet up. She's told me that she hasn't heard anything from him since a couple months after she found out she was pregnant.

She takes a long breath. "He came over, assuming I'd just let him in. I don't think he wanted to see Margot, but the idea of him just—I don't know. Just having access to her because he suddenly shows up? It kind of terrified me."

It's absolutely a friend thing to comfort another friend, so I pull her into a hug and revel in the fact that she relaxes against me. "He's kind of a huge jerk," I say into her hair. I want to kiss the top of her head, but that's going too far. Especially after she made it clear to Jack just now that she doesn't need someone to take care of her the way I want to. Despite Dottie telling me that I should just go for it with Layla, I think I need to be patient with her. Let her prove a little longer that she's fine on her own two feet.

"Thanks, Linc," she says. My heart kicks a little at the way she says my nickname. I want her to be mine. Waiting longer is going to be the worst.

Especially since that's the reason I came over tonight. I thought I couldn't wait another day to tell her. Plus, I was thinking about Margot being with her tomorrow night, and maybe that's not the best time to have a deep talk. A talk I pictured turning into more than … talking.

Now that I'm here and realizing that Margot is also here …

It's hard to think things through when it comes to Layla.

I reluctantly release her from my arms, and she smiles up at me. Her gaze goes to an envelope in her hands. She scowls at it, then lifts the flap open.

"What's this?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Not sure. Jack shoved it at me when I wouldn't let him come in." She pulls out a slip of paper from the envelope, and her eyes go wider than the silver eyeholes on the Phantom Hex's mask. "What?" She blinks at the paper.

"What is it?" I want to lean over and check it out for myself, but I do have some boundaries. They're wearing thin when it comes to Layla, but I'm trying.

"Jack just gave me ten thousand dollars." She flips the paper around to show me a check. It's written out to her, and indeed, there's a ten with three zeroes following it in the amount box. I almost grin triumphantly. I'm also more than curious about what he thought about me showing up at her house. He knew we were friends the night I talked to him, but considering all the social media mentions Layla and I have been getting, he probably assumes, with everyone else, that it's more.

"What a cheapskate," I growl.

"Lincoln," she says in a stern voice threaded with a little laughter. "It's ten thousand dollars!"

"Oh, come on." I roll my eyes dramatically, and she laughs again. I'm addicted to that. "Layla. He made ten million on Phantom Hex, and he's got so many endorsements right now, I bet that's just the tip. So he gave you ten thousand? It's lame."

"It's enough for me not to worry about rent for a while." She shrugs and walks over to a small decorative table that seems to be serving as a desk. She puts the check in a basket on it.

"Margot deserves a lot more," I argue anyway.

She turns and grins at me. "Of course she does. But what she deserves can't be bought, and that's all Jack's doing here. Throwing cash at responsibilities he doesn't want to have. And to be honest, I'm not in the mood to let him have any of those responsibilities. Maybe someday, but not now."

My turn to heave out a sigh. "That's fair."

She tilts her head at me. "What's up?"

I force myself not to react to her questioning why I'm here. My brain races through some things and snags on the guy that stopped me after I got the pancakes today at the bakery truck. "Thought we could talk about the case." I shrug nonchalantly because there's not anything to talk about. But I pull out my phone and bring up the picture of the guy who got a selfie with me this morning. "Recognize him?" I ask, like that's the whole reason I came over and it's not weird because I could have just sent this to her in a text.

"The guy that stopped you this morning?" She leans over to look at my phone and then shakes her head. "But I don't even know if I would recognize if someone's been lurking around, you know. We have so many regular customers, and there are days when everyone starts to look familiar. Did you tell Officer Brady?"

I nod and put my phone away. "I texted him the picture right after. And I took the German pancakes to Dillon, although it was hard. I wanted to eat one so badly. Hopefully he's able to check them out quickly." I'd feel bad about the extra work we're giving him, but I can see why he and Landon are friends. Dillon has the same eagerness to help that Landon does, and it feels like I'm doing Dillon a favor every time I drop something off.

She plops down on the rug and pats a spot next to her, inviting me to stay and hang out. I obey her immediately.

"I'm curious about something," she says.

Layla Delaford, I will tell you anything. But I stay cool. "Oh?"

"I'm wondering who's on the list of people you take stuff to from the bakery truck." There's a twinkle in her eye and a smile that seems … proud.

It's all I can do not to puff out my chest and brag. I've never thought a lot about sharing the cookies, cupcakes, muffins, cinnamon rolls, and whatever. I come to the bakery truck every day to see Layla, and although it's already pretty weird, not buying anything would be over the top. And a dead giveaway.

I chuckle, like the whole situation is exactly what she thinks it is—me supporting Mila in her business. "There's no official list."

"There's old people," she points out. That makes a laugh burst out of me, and her grin widens.

"That's Dottie Van Buren and her friends at Harmony Homes."

Layla tilts her head, a contemplative quirk of her lips replacing the grin. "How do you know Dottie Van Buren?"

My breath catches, but only for a second, because with Layla words often come easy, and they do now too. "She was my grandpa's mistress. We found out after he died and we found some letters in the false bottom of a drawer."

Her eyes widen with every phrase. "Did you just tell me the plot of a soap opera?" She gives a shake of her head and then arches an eyebrow at me.

"Cross my heart." I sober and look at the rug. It sounds funny when I say it that way, but processing all of this over the last year has been anything but. "He was my hero. He was a successful businessman, a pillar in his community, the guy I wanted to be when I grew up."

She puts a hand on my arm. "The reason you serve everyone around you any way you can," she says, getting it instantly.

The words man, I love you almost spill out of my mouth. Conversation is easy when the person you're with can read your mind. Does she see how great we'd be together as more than friends?

I pause until I can get control of the words that are too easy to say. She squeezes my arm in support, like she thinks it's emotion keeping me from continuing. And maybe there is some, but it's so much easier to talk about it with her than to address my feelings for her and how I've been keeping them a secret for months.

"Except I think he was trying to atone for a ten-year-long affair no one ever knew about."

She scowls. "Impossible. Ten years? There's no way that was a secret …" I can see her creative brain rolling now, thinking of it in terms of a script, like she thought it might be at first.

I shrug. "My grandma died a few years before him, and as far as we can tell, she never knew. I thought he was devoted to her. I spent about a month out here in California every summer when I was a kid, and his marriage seemed as solid as my parents'. Even the few years I was out here playing before they died—honestly, Layla. I never had any clue."

She reaches over, wraps her arms around my shoulders, and lays her head on my shoulder. "That has to be the worst. Not seeing any of the signs. Not knowing how to interpret any of it now that he's gone."

"It is," I say quietly.

She takes a deep breath and then presses her lips together.

"What?" I ask, knowing there's something she wants to say.

"Just—if this is out of line or something, let me know," she says, not lifting her head from my shoulder to meet my gaze. I raise an eyebrow. "Could you ask Mrs. Van Buren? She can't give you all the answers, but I bet she could give you some. More than you have."

"Hmmm." I've thought about asking her things, but it does seem out of line. But I have wanted answers, and not getting them—Grandpa being gone before I could ask—that's out of line too. And it's not a nice thought, but Dottie had an affair with my grandpa. Doesn't she owe me answers, even if they're painful?

No. She doesn't owe me anything for the choices she made. But I'd bet she'll talk about it for me.

"I think I'll ask. Maybe," I say.

"Yeah," Layla says softly, the tone filled with what she doesn't say. She understands that would be tough, even without meeting Dottie.

Margot has rolled herself over closer to us, and she pats my leg with her hand. I can't help scooping her up. In the last few weeks, holding her has become a lot more natural, and there's something about her squishy face that just makes everything better.

I'm overwhelmed in the moment to be something so much more than just a friend to this little family. Dottie nailed it when she told me that I had fallen in love with both Layla and Margot. I have. Margot lays her head on my shoulder just like her mom, and it's all I can do to keep quiet. Because if I spoke right now, crazy as it sounds, it wouldn't just be I love you spilling out. I'd beg Layla to spend the rest of her life with me.

But she still needs time to show the world that she's got this, that she can handle everything life throws at her, and because I love her, I'm going to stand back a little longer and let her do that.