Page 37

Chapter 36

What's cooking?

Big Al

I t’s possible this woman will never realize her worth. And I should probably accept that as fact.

Regardless of her understanding of why I love her, I’ll happily commit the rest of my life to ensuring she feels my love.

“After this is done,” I start, brushing my lips over hers for a soft kiss.

“After what’s done?” she asks, her mouth curving into a grin. “The failed blow job attempt? Or life in general?”

It’s nice to see her smile again after those tears.

“After Lenkov is no longer a threat to our family.”

“Ah. That . Okay, please continue.”

“When this is behind us, I’m gonna retire. And I want us to be together permanently. However that looks to you. Marriage or no marriage. Living here in Florida or anywhere else you want. Traveling or staying home every night. Banana bread deliveries all over town or long walks on the beach. I don’t give a damn what we do as long as we do it together. Every day for the rest of our lives.”

A host of emotions swirl behind her eyes at once, coming too fast for me to pick them all up. “But you?—”

“No buts. I only want to give you peace, safety, and happiness from here on out. And I can’t do that with my attention split the way it’s been. Besides, considering the way my team loves to step into shit they shouldn’t, it’s only a matter of time before something else sucks us back into danger. And I don’t want that for you. Or for us.”

Her gaze falls to my chest, and she worries her bottom lip. “Alan, I don’t know. That’s a lot to... um...”

I might be pushing her a bit too hard, but it’s only fair to give her complete honesty. “You don’t have to answer now, Maddie. But I’m ready for this. And something tells me you are too.”

She smooths her hands over my pecs. “I can’t think about that right now. It sounds lovely, but it’s a bit much to process with all this danger surrounding us.” The tiny shakes of her head get more ardent, and her smile gets faker. “Let’s put a pin in it.”

Her walls go up right in front of me. Fucking hell, even her body language stiffens like she’s being cast in stone.

She pushes off my lap and zips her blouse up as far as it can go. With a plastic smile affixed to her face, she says, “We should get ready for dinner. Since Lettie was kind enough to cook for us, it would be rude to be late.”

Instead of waiting for me to leave with her like she normally would, she pats her hair down and edges toward the door. “I’ll see you down in the break room. I’m going to use the restroom to clean up.”

And she’s gone.

I bend over, bracing my forearms on my knees. A haggard sigh leaves me, the air scraping my lungs on the way out.

Fuck.

What I said to her didn’t feel like too much. Not before the words came out and not while they were coming out. And they still don’t feel like too much now.

What the hell is she so afraid of?

Two steps forward, three steps back.

When I enter the break room, it’s emptier than I expected. Normally, at this time of night, the troops gather to see what Maddie’s made. I suppose Lettie’s cooking doesn’t have the same draw. That’s a crying shame because it smells delicious. Italian, if my nose is to be trusted.

My eyes land on Maddie and Lettie, who are whispering beside the fridge.

“What’s cooking?” I announce, injecting some brightness into my tone despite feeling anything but.

“Lettie’s amazing lasagna,” Tomer answers.

I meet his eyes, pumping my brows in silent question.

He laughs under his breath, catching my implied musing. “Yes, I mean it. She’s a good cook.”

The table is only set for four, so I ask, “Is it just us tonight?”

“Yeah. Lettie wanted a quiet dinner, so she told the others to fend for themselves. They were ordering takeout when I left them downstairs.”

Maddie and Lettie stay huddled in the corner, occasionally peeking at me and Tomer.

Shaking it off, I pull out a chair beside Tomer. “What’s with them?”

“Not sure. But don’t be surprised if they ask us for something.”

I cock a brow at him. “What makes you say that?”

“She was extremely frisky and not even a little bratty before we came upstairs, and the latter only happens when—” His face blanches halfway through his explanation, and he chokes back the rest. “Never mind.”

“Next time, cut yourself off sooner.”

“I’m sorry. You don’t want to hear about that. Can’t think when I’m this dehydrated.” He puts his head down, literally flopping it to the table. “ Fuck . I’m done talking for the night.”

I aggressively massage my forehead, wishing I had a time machine and could go back to about a half hour ago when Maddie had my dick in her mouth and I had no knowledge of Tomer’s fluid levels.

Hold up.

My hand flops to the table, replicating the movement of Tomer’s head from a second ago. “Son of a bitch,” I murmur as the mental dots align.

Maddie’s unexpected seduction was calculated, likely in an attempt to put me in an agreeable mood. Lettie probably did the same with—nope, not thinking about them together .

The whispering in the corner is probably them readjusting their plan based on how shitty things ended with Maddie and me.

It must be bad if they’re working this hard to butter us up.

“I’ll get the salad,” Maddie announces in an artificially chipper tone, feigning normalcy.

Transparent.

She opens the fridge while Lettie heads to the oven.

After removing a tray of garlic bread, Lettie holds out an oven mitt toward us. “Tomer, will you get the lasagna out of the oven for me? Pretty please?”

He springs to his feet, dashing over to assist her.

She puts her hand on her barely visible bump, batting her eyelashes with gusto. “Thanks, babe. It’s a bit heavy for me.”

That was extra sweet even for her, which is really saying something.

She’s as transparent as Maddie.

A few minutes later, the four of us gather around the table with food piled high on our plates. The mood isn’t tense, but it’s... off.

Maddie hasn’t said anything to me since she left the office. Tomer’s silent, which is par for the course and appreciated, especially since the last thing he said involved him having sex with my daughter. And I don’t know what to say to anyone, so I’m gonna just eat and wait for them to start on their bullshit. It won’t be long now.

Unless they’ve decided against whatever they’re planning, which would be fine with me.

Lettie breaks the silence, brushing her arm against Tomer’s. “Babe, did you show Boss Dad yet?”

He puts down his fork and wipes his mouth. “Not yet.”

“Well, go on. You have them, don’tcha?”

Her precious twang brings a reluctant smile to my face. This time, it’s genuine, unlike the earlier forced one.

Tomer reaches into his back pocket and retrieves two small folded pieces of glossy paper.

“What’s this?” I ask, taking the offered pages.

Lettie beams at me, her smile stretching like the horizon. “The very first pictures of your very first grandbaby.”

Gravity suddenly feels more profound, and the weighty sensation spreads throughout my chest as I slowly unfold the first page.

It’s an ultrasound photo.

Despite the mouthwatering meal, my tongue thickens like it’s parched and latches to the roof of my mouth.

Seems to be a profile view. I can make out the head and body, but not much more than that.

This is the baby growing inside my... daughter.

A new life. One I’ll be able to be a part of from the beginning.

Unlike what happened with Lettie.

Bitterness seizes me by the jaw, its grip steely and unyielding. My nostrils flare, and my cheeks undulate as I force the emotion down.

I shuffle to the next photo, my eyes catching on the text in the upper corner. “Baby Stillman,” I read aloud, surprised I’m able to find my voice through this paralyzing grief.

How long will I be mourning these stolen experiences lost to time?

“Well, it didn’t seem right to call it Baby Holt.” Lettie clicks her tongue. “After all, it’s just a matter of time. Right, babe ?”

I drop my stare from the photo long enough to see her giving Tomer some choice side-eye. My mouth quirks at one corner.

He shrugs and grins. “We’ll see.”

Yeah, right. I bet he has a ring picked out already.

Huh . I better pull him aside to ensure he knows how to propose properly.

Then again, I’m not exactly an expert. As demonstrated earlier, when I talk to Maddie about the future, she impersonates an ice sculpture.

My eyes fix back on the squares of paper. I hold them side by side, looking for differences.

Instead of focusing on the sorrowful past, I remind myself of the joy headed our way in a few months. An earnest smile languidly spreads until it covers my whole damn face. “This is pretty cool, kiddo. Thanks for sharing this with me.”

“Well, of course. You only get to be a first-time grandpa once.”

She’s laying it on a little thick. But since I need the comfort, I’ll happily accept it.

I offer the photos to Maddie. “Did you see these?”

“I did. Adorable, huh?”

I study them for another few seconds before handing them back to Tomer. “Congratulations, son.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, his cheeks flashing crimson.

“We asked the ultrasound lady to write down the gender for us.” Lettie lifts her plate, revealing a hidden envelope. “Any guesses before I open it?”

Maddie’s jaw gapes. “You’re gonna open it now ?”

My fork pauses in front of my mouth. “Wait, wait, wait. We have to save that for the baby pool.”

“Baby pool?” Lettie’s brow furrows. “What on earth do we need that for?”

“Your father likes to bet on things,” Tomer offers, then stuffs a bite of salad into his mouth.

Her lip juts into a pout, and she looks at me from under her lashes. “I don’t want to take that from you, but I sort of wanted to save this announcement for the immediate family. That’s why I organized our private dinner. Perhaps you can do some bettin’ on other details closer to the birth?”

This girl is killing me tonight. It’s as if she knows my heart needed some patchwork after the earlier hit it took.

“Go ahead and open it,” I encourage.

Tomer leans back in his chair, his face colored with amusement. “She’s pretty hard to say no to, isn’t she?”

“Impossible.” Chuckling, I face Lettie and point my chin at the envelope. “Do it.”

“Drum roll, please.” She positions her fingertip at the envelope crease and slides it under the flap. “Last chance for guesses.”

“Girl,” Tomer announces, then immediately doubles back. “Scratch that. Boy.”

“Healthy,” Maddie says.

“Well, we already know that’s the case. Thankfully .” Lettie turns her big blue eyes on me. “What about you, Boss Dad?”

I dab my napkin at the corner of my mouth. “This lasagna is delicious, Lettie.”

“ Aw , thanks. Now, what’s your guess?”

“I’m going with boy.”

Truthfully, I doubt I could handle a girl. It’d be nearly impossible to avoid comparing a baby girl to an imaginary memory of what Lettie was like.

Lettie shimmies in her chair, deviousness flashing behind her irises. “I say girl, but only because I like to be contrary.”

“We know,” Tomer quips, drawing laughter from everyone.

We’ve all stopped eating, our attention squarely on the dramatic reveal.

At a snail’s pace, she reaches into the envelope, retrieving a whole sheet of paper folded in thirds. A bit of overkill for three or four letters.

Lettie takes a deep breath and presses the page to her chest. “Here we go.”

Maddie reaches under the table to squeeze my thigh. The ache in my heart begins to recede at her slight touch, and my breath hitches. If a brush of her palm on my leg can trigger this swelling of emotion in me, Maddie truly holds my damn heart in her hands.

I curl my fingers with hers, and together, we watch Lettie draw this out. Despite my typical compulsion to get on with it—whatever it is—I sit back and enjoy her theatrics.

With her eyes closed, she flutters the paper around like a Polaroid. When she stills her arms, her gaze locks on Tomer’s. Love shines between them. It’s tangible.

Dammit . Am I about to fucking cry?

Over lasagna and salad in the break room of my own fucking building. What the hell?

Lettie gracefully unfolds the paper and reads it to herself. Surprise blends with her nervousness, making her facial features dance with joy. She flicks her gaze to Tomer first, her smile shining with sun-like radiance. Then she slides her line of sight around the table, landing on mine. Her eyes grow misty.

“Well, what do ya know? We’re gonna have a perfect little boy.”

As if we choreographed the movement, all four of us spring from our seats at virtually the same time. Squeals of delight fill the air. Possibly some coming from me, although I’m fairly certain I’ve never squealed before.

“Is it dusty in here? Something must have gotten in your eyes,” Maddie teases, cupping my cheeks and caressing my face with her loving gaze.

In my peripheral vision, I notice Tomer lifting Lettie in an embrace that sweeps her off her feet. But almost all of my focus is on Maddie.

Her eyes tell me so much right now.

Not only is she overcome with the joy of this moment, she’s still battling the fear that triggered her earlier. Although she wants to retreat from her feelings, she’s fighting. Her grizzly is stirring.

I need to give her space to do that. The only problem is, I don’t know if I can right now. I’m too damn needy over my own bullshit.

“Congratulations, Grandpa,” she whispers right before our lips meet for a chaste kiss.

When we pull apart, I can’t stop a frown from forming. “Ew. That makes me feel old as hell.”

An adorable giggle makes her shoulders shake. “Oh, don’t I know it. I’ve been a grandma for more than a decade now.”

I always forget about Drew and his two kids since they’re not here in Florida. Maybe she’d like to pay them a visit soon. After we end Lenkov, I think I’ll surprise her with a trip up there.

“You don’t look old enough to have a child, let alone an eleven-year-old grandson.”

“Oh really? Your vision must be starting to go with your old age. These are gray streaks in my hair, not blond.” She points at the sides of her eyes. “And check out the crow’s feet. They get deeper every year despite the gobs of cream I slather on them.”

“Don’t care. You’re gorgeous to me.”

Her smile utterly dazzles me, and I love how we’re moving past the earlier awkwardness so quickly. We still need to discuss what happened, but this is a good sign. I recall our conversation from a few weeks ago and how she would try to not assume my intentions are controlling. I suspect she’s fighting through that now.

Warmth settles in the base of my throat.

It’s hope, pure and simple.

Needing her closer, I grab her waist and haul her flush against me. Lowering my mouth to her ear, I quietly tell her, “We might be getting old, but I still crave you like a twenty-year-old. When I get you alone, I intend to prove how sexy you are. Even if it takes me all night long.”

Looking scandalized, she pulls back and puts her hands on my chest to give me a playful shove. “You’re naughty, Mr. Lancaster.” She lowers her voice to barely above a whisper. “But I think I like it.”

“Hey, let me get in there,” Lettie interjects, literally shoving between Maddie and me to wrap me in a big hug.

Not that I’m complaining. I’m thrilled to celebrate this moment with my kids as well.

Huh . My kids.

I’ve said and thought it a million times before about all the people who work for me. But this time, it feels so much more profound. As much as I love my entire Redleg family like they’re my children, these two honestly are. One by choice and the other by blood.

Lettie passes me to Tomer as she moves to hug Maddie.

“We don’t have to hug,” he intones stiffly.

My boisterous laugh resonates from deep in my gut. “Get in here, kid.”

Once the excitement fades, we return to our seats. We’re halfway through our meals when Lettie clears her throat and straightens her spine.

Oh boy. Here we go.

She holds eye contact with an assuredness that’s damn impressive. Even when I narrow my eyes in suspicion, she remains resolute.

I glance at Maddie, noticing her similar expression.

“What is it you want?” I ask, cutting to the chase.

Without an ounce of hesitation, Lettie states her request. “I’d like permission to go to Climax to confront my grandmother. I don’t want to wait until I’m visibly pregnant, and it’s getting harder to conceal. Obviously, I’ll comply with all safety precautions you feel are appropriate. And I’ll follow any rules you or your guards put in place without hesitation. I won’t be reckless. But I don’t consider this an unnecessary trip. It needs to happen. And soon.” She shifts her gaze to Tomer. “And obviously, I need you to come with me.”

They stare at each other for a beat, having a silent conversation. Likewise, I flit my gaze to Maddie to get a read on her. As expected, she already knew this request was coming. It’s written all over her face.

“You’re on board with this, huh?” I ask her.

She leans close, keeping her voice low. “Alan, I strongly feel you need to talk to her as well. You both deserve answers. The timing is less than ideal, but I’m confident you can figure out how to ensure their safety. And yours.”

I inhale through my nose, feeling my nostrils flare with the sharp intake of oxygen. Probably shouldn’t be surprised Maddie’s picked up on my growing restlessness over this topic. Not knowing why Abby’s parents chose to keep Lettie from me gets harder to stomach each day. It was only a matter of time before my bitterness and resentment began showing through whatever box I tried to shove it inside. Maybe I’ve uttered a few too many snarky comments or grumbled under my breath a little too excessively.

Then again, perhaps it’s not what I’ve shown Maddie about this versus what she just knows because of her compassionate nature as a mama bear who wants to defend and nurture those she loves.

I’m so damn tempted to jump at this opportunity. It’s what I’ve wanted for a while.

If we do this, we need to be smart about it.

I glance at Tomer, my brows raised inquisitively. I value his opinion and trust he wouldn’t do anything to compromise Lettie’s safety or that of their unborn child.

After taking a beat, he answers my unspoken question. “We can probably make it work. Should I perform a threat assessment and attempt to devise a plan for your review?”

Lettie’s hopeful gaze locks on mine. Air freezes in my lungs, and my stomach bottoms out.

For the first time, I recognize echoes of myself in her expression. The lines of her face, especially her eyes. It’s almost uncanny.

I have to look away. It’s far too much.

Rising to my feet, I announce, “I need time to think.”

I don’t wait for anyone to respond before hastily exiting the room. There’s no way I can make a decision in here with her looking at me like that. All hopeful and with eyes so much like mine.

And like Daniel’s.

Have I been denying the family resemblance until now? If so, to what end? So I could pretend she wasn’t my daughter, thus making our sad reality less painful? Or was it like looking into my brother’s eyes?

Once or twice before, Maddie’s mentioned how much Lettie looks like me. I always disregarded it as wishful thinking.

However, I see it now. Clear as a freshly washed windowpane.

Lettie’s my daughter.

I’ve known this all along, never doubted it. Or so I thought.

Turns out, I’ve been subconsciously denying the truth in some small way. Hiding from it as a defense mechanism.

Because this pain is fucking excruciating.

The travesty of what the Holts did is a brutal weapon, carving into me in ever-deepening wounds. Right when I think I’ve survived the final attack wave, another comes behind it, more powerful than the last. My injuries don’t have time to heal. There’s no time for my bleeding to slow or a clot to form.

I just keep hemorrhaging.

Maddie’s tendency to avoid conflict is so much more relatable. Despite never judging her for the impulse to run, I wasn’t entirely sure what it was like for her. After experiencing it firsthand, I realize it’s not something we can easily control.

It’s an instinct.

Even tonight, she succumbed to it. Rather than discussing our future, she gave in to the compulsion to cower from her feelings.

I won’t let her hide from our future. And I won’t allow myself to shy away from my own truth either.

Decision made.

Unless it’s too big of a safety risk, we’re going to Georgia. My daughter and I will get the answers we deserve.

Fuck hiding.