Chapter 6

Chapter Six

RYLAND

“When is closing?” Abel asks as he tosses the ball to me.

We’re out on the baseball field, fucking around after about three hours of intense landscaping and grooming. The school doesn’t have the budget for professional landscapers for the field—well, at least not the budget I need to hire the type of experts I want—so I tend to spend a great deal of time keeping the field in pristine condition myself. Today, I roped Abel into helping on his day off.

I’m rewarding him with a toss.

“In about two hours,” I say. “I can still back out.”

It’s been a whirlwind since I saw Gabby at the house a week ago. I’ve been gnawing on that information every night since, considering over and over again if I want to go through with the house purchase.

“Can you, though?” Abel asks as he catches the ball. “Mac is in love with the place. Didn’t you have to go to the backyard yesterday and watch her play under the big tree?”

“For an hour,” I grumble as Abel throws me the ball, the thud of leather hitting leather one of the best sounds ever. “She didn’t want to leave. I had to bribe her with horsey rides at the farm.”

“And what does that entail?”

“Me forcing Wyatt to get on his hands and knees so she can ride on his back.”

“And why weren’t you the horsey?” he asks with a brow raised.

“I was making a shitty dinner for everyone.”

“Ah, that checks.” He catches the ball and starts walking toward me. “Remind me why you want to back out? Because you never really got into that.”

Because I don’t want to get into it. Words cannot explain how utterly shocked... and angry... I was when I saw her again. There, in front of the house I was buying. How, I don’t know or understand.

What are the goddamn chances of the tenant above the garage being her ? The sexy siren/angel I had a one-night stand with?

Slim.

Yet here we are.

The moment I saw her, I was filled with dread and excitement all at once. Because that night . . . fuck, that night is one I haven’t forgotten. I think about it all the goddamn time. I think about the way she listened so fucking well, the way she felt, the way she sounded . . . smelled. It was intoxicating being with her, and when those eyes of hers met mine, for a brief second, I thought about walking up to her, tipping her chin up, and tasting those lips all over again.

Then I was reminded about real life.

A life where I’m the guardian to a four-year-old girl who lost both of her parents.

A life where I’m not the kind of person who would give in to temptation.

A life where I have three things I need to direct all my attention to: Mac, baseball, and school.

There isn’t room for anything else.

And with that in mind, dread filled me because I knew I had to have that conversation with her.

What we had could go nowhere.

Absolutely nowhere.

And I made that known despite how I actually felt.

It seemed like she was fine with that . . . so why am I over here ready to back out of a contract to a house that I know Mac loves, that I know she deserves, and that I know she needs in her life?

“You going to answer me?” Abel says as he tosses me the ball, and we both head to the dugout that I power washed yesterday.

“Why do I want to back out of the contract?” We both take a seat on top of the bench and lean against the painted cinderblock wall. I let out a sigh. “Remember that one-night stand I had about a month ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s the tenant who’ll be living in the apartment above the garage.”

I feel Abel turn toward me. “You’re fucking kidding.”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“I thought she was an out-of-towner.”

“So did I, but now she’s very much an in towner.”

“Don’t like the term in towner, so don’t use it again.” Normally, I’d chuckle, but I’m feeling so defeated that I barely crack a smile. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you have a great time with her? I’m pretty sure you were walking on clouds for a week.”

“I wasn’t walking on clouds,” I scoff. My penis felt like it was being carried around by a cloud, there’s a difference. “But yeah, it was a great night.”

“So explain to me how this is a problem?”

“Because I can’t have the distraction,” I reply while slouching against the wall. “Mac needs all my attention, and I can’t have some woman I spent one night with turning my head the other way. Not to mention, I’m going to have a tough season this year, and I’m moving Mac out of her house. The house where she spent all four years of her life and has memories of her mom in.”

“Don’t start with that. You and your siblings have said she’s been happier since the thought of moving. She watched her mom die in that house. Man, you know this move is for the best.”

I tug on the brim of my baseball hat. “I know, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be growing pains or that she isn’t going to possibly revert to wanting to be at the old house. I have to tread carefully, and I fear if Gabby distracts me, I might lose out on the promise I made to Cassidy before she passed.”

Abel is silent for a moment, staring out at the green grass of the field with a pensive look in his eyes. “You realize you’re allowed to be a person outside of the responsibilities you hold for Mac. Cassidy wouldn’t want you to set aside your life to take care of her daughter. She’d still want you to live.”

“I know. She would say that exact thing to me,” I say. “The problem is, I don’t know how to do both. I don’t know how to have a life while watching over my niece. I barely know how to take care of Mac. I swear to God, and I’m not just saying this to fucking say it, but every day I’m reminded of how shitty a job I’m doing.”

“Shitty a job? Dude, you don’t really mean that, do you?”

I look Abel in the eyes. “I sent her to school yesterday in a pajama shirt . . . on their end of the summer picture day.”

“Oh, who fucking cares. I’m sure you can’t even tell.”

Deadpanned, I say, “It said ‘time for bed’ in big letters across the front.”

Abel snorts but tries to hide it. He fails miserably. “Not the end of the world, but I see what you’re saying. For the record, that’s not failing, that’s just some funny shit. What you need to focus on is Mac’s well-being. If she’s being fed, if she’s happy and protected. You’re doing all those things. To me, that’s a win. The small things will come in time. You haven’t even been her guardian for a year yet, man. It’s only been a few months. You need to give yourself some credit.”

“I’ll give myself credit when I’m living up to the same standards as Cassidy.”

“You can’t chase her, Ryland. That will end poorly. She wouldn’t want that either. Keep Cassidy in Mac’s memory, that’s what you can do, but you have to develop your own way of parenting, or you’ll kill yourself in the process. Which brings me back to this Gabby girl. Maybe it’s a good thing that she’s close. Maybe she can be an outlet for you. You know, someone who can help you blow off some steam.”

I shake my head. “No, I can feel this snowballing on me.”

“Why? Because you liked her?”

“Yeah,” I answer truthfully. “I liked her. I liked that night we had. I liked everything about it. And I know if I give myself an inch, I’ll take a mile. Mac will end up suffering in the long run.”

“Or maybe she’ll thrive because you’re thriving. Ever think of that?”

I glance at my friend. “You’re fucking irritating me.”

“Because I’m right. Admit it.”

“No, because you have a comeback for everything. Jesus. Can’t you just shut up for a second and let me wallow in my situation?”

“Now, what kind of promise would I keep to Cassidy if I let that happen? You were directed to take care of Mac. And me? She told me to take care of you. Therefore, if you had fun fucking the neighbor tenant, I say do it again . . . and again . . . and again.”

“Look at me, Uncle Ry Ry,” Mac says, carrying a box labeled “The Chewys.”

Not that they needed to be packed in a box, but Mac demanded that The Chewys, as in Chewy Chondra and Chewy Charles, got their own special box that she, and no one else, was allowed to haul around. We even put holes in the box so they could “breathe.”

“Glad we got The Chewys in the new house,” I say as the movers drop what few belongings we have into the living room, one small box at a time.

Aubree and Wyatt have been so helpful the past few weeks with packing and taking care of Mac while I went to different appointments for the house closing. Now that we’re here, moving into a new place, just me and Mac, I feel . . . fuck, I feel nervous.

I feel like puking.

A huge weight rests on my shoulders because, before all of this, Aubree was living in the guest house at the old place and would come over for dinner, play with Mac, and help her get ready for bed. But now, we’re on our own. We’ve become a duo. And that scares me.

What if I forget something?

What if I’m not good at this on my own?

Fuck . . . what if Mac doesn’t like living with just me?

“Why do you look green?” Aubree asks as she walks by me with a side table in tow.

I reach for it, taking it out of her hands, carrying it to the massive living room. How the hell am I going to fill this space?

“What are you talking about? I’m not green,” I say.

“Your face, you look all pukey. Hattie,” she calls out to our sister. “Doesn’t Ryland look like he’s going to puke?”

Hattie comes up to me in her classic bike shorts and oversized Hayes Farrow shirt and examines me—making a whole scene about it of course.

She leans in close, scans me up and down . . . even fucking sniffs me.

“You know what, he does look pukey. Hayes, look at Ryland.”

Hayes Farrow—one of the biggest voices in music and my sister’s boyfriend—walks up to us, loops his arm over Hattie’s shoulders, and looks me up and down. “You know, now that you say it, he does look green.”

Deadpanned, I say, “I expect more from you.”

He shrugs. “Spending too much time with your sister.”

“It’s showing.”

“What’s showing?” Wyatt says, joining us now, wearing a rainbow wig and unicorn horn. Not sure how he became the designated dress-up partner for Mac, but I swear I see him more in costume than anything else now.

“Hattie’s influence on Hayes,” Aubree says as she moves close to Wyatt. I watch him place a kiss on the top of her head, and if I wasn’t so happy for both of my sisters, I’d feel an ounce of jealousy. But how could I when they’ve been through so fucking much? I just want them to be happy. They deserve that. And more.

“Oh yeah, he’s a completely different man,” Wyatt replies.

“Says the man in the rainbow wig,” Hayes counters.

Wyatt adjusts his hair. “You know, it takes quite the personality to pull this off. I have no shame. I know neither of you would wear it.”

“I’ve worn that damn thing at least a dozen times this month,” I say to Wyatt.

“Is that why it smells?”

“Fuck . . . off,” I reply. “It doesn’t smell. If anything, it smells like the lavender body spray Hattie gave Mac. She practically soaks the wig in that.”

Wyatt snaps his fingers and points. “That’s what I’ve been smelling. I thought it was some secret flower that I wasn’t seeing. Makes more sense now.”

I stare at him for a few seconds. “You’re supposed to be a bestselling author.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t live on the pedestal we’re propped up on forever. We have our human moments.”

“Clearly.” I let out a sigh. “Hattie, think you can order us some pizza and drinks?—”

“Hold on, why are you looking green? You’re not just going to skip over that.”

“I’m not looking green.”

“It’s four against one,” Aubree says, circling her finger to the group. “So it’s best that you?—”

“Uh, excuse me,” a voice comes from the door.

Together, we all turn toward the door, where Gabby stands in a pair of bike shorts and a crop top, her curves on full display. She has her hair tied up into a long ponytail, and she’s wearing tennis shoes, which leads me to believe that maybe she’s about to go work out.

“Hey . . . Gabby,” I say, trying not to show the four pairs of eyes watching this interaction that I’m the least bit fazed by her.

“Hey. Uh, someone’s car is blocking mine, and I was looking to take off.”

“Oh sure, yeah, uh . . .” I grab the back of my neck. “What does it look like?”

“A Rivian?” she says.

“That’s me,” Hayes says with a lift of his hand. “I’ll move it for you. Sorry about that.”

“Not a problem,” Gabby says, giving Hayes a quick double take. You can see her response written all over her face . . . is that . . . is that Hayes Farrow?

In fact, it is.

To her credit, she didn’t squeal or carry on. She shakes her head a bit as she starts to turn away from the group. But not before Hattie calls out, “Hold on, you must be the new neighbor. Have you guys introduced yourselves?” Hattie points between me and Gabby.

Oh Hattie, we have more than introduced ourselves.

I’ve seen her naked.

I’ve felt her body wrapped around me.

I know what she sounds like when she comes.

“Yeah, we know each other,” I say awkwardly as I stick my hands in my shorts pockets.

“You know each other?” she asks.

“I mean . . . we’ve met,” I correct, not wanting to go deeper with my sister eyeing me. The last thing I need is for them to pry into that side of my life that I’m trying to shut down.

“When Ryland and his niece came to check out the house,” Gabby adds.

“Oh, cool,” Hattie says and then turns to me. “You never told us you met your tenant.”

“I don’t need to tell you every aspect of my life,” I reply.

“Might be nice. We’re invested after all,” Aubree says with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Not something we need to talk about with Gabby here?—”

“Hey, you’re the girl we saw the other day,” Mac says, running right up to Gabby. “I heard Uncle Ry Ry saying bad words about you.”

Jesus.

Fucking.

Christ.

“Bad words?” Gabby says, staring me down with a raised brow.

“Why would you say bad words about her? She seems pleasant,” Hattie says.

“And she’s your tenant. I feel like that’s not a great thing to do,” Aubree adds.

“Not to mention, you shouldn’t be saying bad words in front of Mac,” Wyatt continues.

Why are they making this into a nightmare?

Is that their intention?

Because they’re doing a good job at it.

Truth be told, I was saying bad words about Gabby. But to my credit, I muttered them under my breath with no knowledge of my niece possessing the hearing of an owl.

And if we really need to go there, it wasn’t necessarily bad words about her. I was more . . . irritated about my situation.

“Can everyone just fuuhh . . . uh freaking chill? I was muttering bad words because I feel out of my element having to be a landlord.” That’s quick thinking on my feet. Proud of myself. “Not because of Gabby. It wasn’t something I thought too much about until, well, it was too late, so yeah.”

“Well, you have nothing to worry about,” Gabby says. “I’m incredibly low maintenance. I won’t be requiring anything from you.”

“Good to know,” I say. “But if you need something, don’t hesitate to ask.” I try to tack on a smile, but I know it seems strained.

“Okay, but I won’t need anything.”

“But if you do,” I counter.

“But I won’t.”

I nod. “Gotcha, but know that I’m here.”

“I think she gets it,” Wyatt cuts in.

I give him a look, and when I go back to Gabby, she’s already taking off without saying another word.

“Dude, that was embarrassing to watch,” Wyatt says.

“Once again, this coming from the guy in the rainbow wig.”

Wyatt pulls the wig off his head as Hattie says, “She seems really nice.”

“Uncle Ry Ry likes looking at her.”

“What? No, I don’t,” I protest. Is this new house giving Mac some super sense?

“Yes, you do.”

I turn to my niece, trying to remain calm as I say, “No . . . I . . . don’t.”

Mac’s lips turn down as she points at me. “You do.”

Christ.

“He does, does he?” Aubree asks with a smirk.

A large sigh falls past my lips because Jesus, can we not?

“I don’t. I’ve seen her once,” I say even though that’s a big fat lie. “Please don’t make a big deal about this.”

“Who’s making a big deal?” Hattie asks. “We’re not.” The way she bats her eyelashes tells me she’s not innocent at all.

“Just drop it, okay? There’s nothing to see here. I will barely see this woman, possibly only in passing. Like she said, she won’t require anything from me. Not a single fucking thing.”