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28

JESS

It’s officially spring and I have all the windows in the loft open. While KJ naps, I tell myself I’ll look for new jobs. That was my plan and I have to stick to it.

Despite getting woozy and sleepy, Denver seemed like a nice enough place. Plus, Colorado is a square state like Nebraska. I open a tab to look for jobs when my finger slips and I wind up at #MrDarcysAbs.

Whoopsie.

I mean, I could just look at them in real life, but don’t want to let Grandma Dolly down. She, um, makes sure I stay up to date on these things.

My phone beeps and I jump, afraid I’ve somehow been caught. But the message is from an unknown number. I skim the text and my stomach knots.

Just then, Liam enters the room, face stormy. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

I throw my phone like it might explode, yet it already feels like a grenade went off. “What do you mean? I updated the protein powder delivery and canceled that streaming service you weren’t using.”

He paces and rakes his hand through his hair. “More like I have a problem and you’re kind of collateral damage.”

“What?” I ask, not liking the way that sounds.

“My lawyer finally got back to me about the screenshot Pam sent.”

“Pamberlie?”

Liam nods. “I never knew her full name until I got custody.”

“Why wouldn’t she have told you she has a kid?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“My guess is she wasn’t sure it was your kid. Then she looked into possibilities of paternity, and they came up negative, leaving you the remaining option.”

Liam’s chest expands on a rough inhale. “Yeah. You’re probably right. I later found out she’d hooked up with half the team that season.”

I wrinkle my nose, but the theory fits with the Pamberlie I’d gotten to know. How she kept the kid from me and the rest of the family is a question I don’t have the energy to ponder, but she’d only returned to LA from Phoenix shortly before the wedding, so she was probably tracking down Liam and keeping the kid a secret.

He says, “In the documents, there was some fine print that I’d disregarded because the one time we were together, I told her that I’d never get married. I was like twenty-one. I meant it at the time. I’d only just met her that night …”

I squirm in my chair, not sure what to think or where this is going.

He stops moving and says, “After she left the kid with me and made it clear she had no intention of taking care of him, the attorneys drafted some documents. The little detail that I missed in my fog of shock was that it stated if I were to remain unmarried at the six-month mark since gaining custody if she wanted the kid back, she could petition the court. That also means she’d be eligible for child support. This was a little way for her to get around some of the laws in her state which prevented me from being required to provide funds since she’d waited so long to disclose paternity.”

“Knowing Pamberlie, and I do, along with Sorsha and Rexlan, I’m not sure that’s a great idea, but she is KJ’s mother.” I tap my chin. “I can’t help but wonder if this also has something to do with the alimony and trust fund tied to the father.”

“If that’s the case, sounds to me like extortion.”

“That would be quite the court case.”

Liam takes a breath so deep the earth rattles. “Pam is just in it for the money. The fine print also indicates that I’d have to sign over seventy-five percent of my salary to her. I don’t care about a penny, but I’m not going to let her use the kid for financial gain.”

Sorsha’s insistence that Rexlan get married so she can collect alimony comes to mind and I elaborate.

Liam crouches down and grips my knees. “Jessica, she left him here with a bag of clothes, a pet hermit crab, and a note. No indication that he’d been assessed for his hearing health. No—” His voice strains.

I swallow back emotion because KJ is such a special boy, I hate the idea of him being neglected and tossed from home to home for a payday.

“I’m the first to admit that I was awful. A bad dad. But?—”

“But you figured it out.” Nodding I say, “We’ll sort this out too.”

Hope flares in Liam’s eyes and a long pause stretches between us before he paces by the big windows in the loft.

“Let me get this straight. In the custody documents, Pamberlie temporarily waived parental rights, but the fine print indicates that if you remained unmarried by a certain date, and she wants to return to the child’s life, she can.”

“Unless I’m married,” he repeats, then tells me they met in college the night he found out he was drafted for the NHL. There was a party. It got a little reckless. He hooked up with her. Things escalated. Then he never saw her again. Tried calling and texting. Still has the messages on his phone.

“So she kept KJ a secret from you, but once you claimed him, she’s hunting for child support and then some. I never even knew she had a son.” Makes me wonder if he was in a similar situation as I was before my mother left.

“If she were a better mother and loved the kid, I’d give her every dime.” He flops into a nearby chair.

Liam may be rough and gruff, but I know he’s telling the truth. The man says little but goes out of his way to make sure everyone in his life is taken care of.

Thinking back to my college days, I say, “I don’t know tons of guys who’re ready to get married in college. They’re rare like diamonds.”

Liam jumps to his feet. “You and me.”

“You and me what?” I ask.

“We could get married.”

Laughter explodes out of me. “You’ll have to forward your application and cover letter to my office.”

“Are you saying there is a line of men waiting to marry you? I’m not surprised.” He rakes his hand through his hair again.

I hold up a one-minute finger and then use my pointer and pinkie fingers as a pretend telephone. “Hi, is this The Beast’s personal assistant? Yes, I’ll hold.”

Deep wrinkles line his brow. “What are you doing?”

I whisper to him. “Apparently, she’s very busy. Mr. Ellis is a demanding man.”

He arches an eyebrow.

Going back to my finger phone, I fake listen for a moment and then say, “Excuse me, I’d like to report that your boss seems to have completely come off his hinges, you know, lost the plot.” I pause for dramatic effect. “I see. Okay. I’ll let him know.”

His frowns.

Hanging my invisible finger phone on the phone’s base, to Liam, I say, “The Beast’s PA also thinks that’s hilarious and rescinds all her comments about how you lack a sense of humor.”

He waves his first two fingers between us. “I mean you, Jessica. Me. We get married.”

I puff out an exasperated breath. “Sure. Yeah. Okay.”

“You’ll do it?”

“That makes no sense.” My eyes are the size of saucers, waiting to hear the punchline of the greatest joke of all time.

He shakes his head slowly. “You’re practically part of the furniture, almost living here rent-free.”

“When you put it that way, this just gets more and more romantic.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, Liam.” I puff an exhale.

He softens. “I mean, I’m kind of into it. I, um, like you, Jessica.”

“Well, that’s progress, considering where we started, but I think you’re supposed to love your wife.”

His eyes search mine.

I pump the brakes. “We need to slow down. You just got really big news. Let’s think this through.”

He takes my hand. I should let go, but I don’t.

“I’d planned to leave. Was thinking about Wyoming. A dude ranch. Denver was nice. In fact, I was just about to check out some job openings there. But then I got distracted.” My cheeks warm because I was browsing the latest entries to #MrDarcysAbs.

He nods solemnly. “I don’t want to hold you back.”

“I only intended to be here in Cobbiton long enough to get back on my feet.”

“And marriage is furthest from your mind.”

“Exactly. Funny though that Pamberlie is back in my life.”

“I see no humor in it.”

I lift my shoulder. “Maybe we need to bake a cake.”

“I don’t think there’s anything to celebrate.”

I grip his upper arms and they’re like rocks under my palms, but I give him a little shake to draw him back to my future-is-bright reality. “We’re going to come up with a solution.”

Liam follows me to the kitchen where I set to work, sifting the flour, mixing the eggs, and setting the cake in the oven to bake.

Just before the oven dings, I get a brain wave. “I’ve got it.”

Liam looks at me expectantly.

“What if we set up our exes?”

“They’re related.”

“Oh, right.”

“Even if they weren’t, that’s insane.”

“And getting married isn’t?”

I open the oven only to see the cake fall, sagging in the middle, along with my spirits.

Liam says, “We could try to kill ‘em with kindness.”

“I’m not killing anyone. Sheesh. Take it easy tiger. Manage your anger and keep the fights on the ice.”

“I’m surprised that wasn’t your first solution.”

“Sadly, I think the Coogan siblings are immune to my aggressive positivity.”

“No one is beyond hope and restoration,” Liam says softly.

I turn to him, realizing how desperate he must feel to offer a Jess-ism. “You’re right.”

Everything in me wants to hug him … and marry him? No, that can’t be right. It’s not for real. It’s just a matter of convenience, more or less the way the nuptials with Rexlan were, for his mother to gain access to alimony, anyway.

* * *

That night, I tell Grandma Dolly the whole saga … of the cake falling.

She signs, “But what’s really on your mind?”

I plop heavily into the chair at the kitchen table and tell her about my confusing feelings for Liam.

I leave out the part about Rexlan reaching out to me—he contacted me on behalf of Sorsha, demanding repayment for the wedding. Otherwise, I risk facing the wrath of the lizard gods. Didn’t even tell Liam that part because there’d be fists, flames, and an army of angry hockey players on the attack, resulting in blood and possibly jail time.

I also don’t mention Liam suggesting we get married until the cookies come out along with some milk.

The longer we sit there, the more empty the cookie plate gets, and the more I divulge, until she knows every single secret.

Grandma Dolly signs, “Just think of all the two-for-one deals you could qualify for. Plus use of the carpool lane, tax advantages, and you’d always have someone to sit with on theme park rides.”

I laugh, thankful for her pragmatic approach. “But it would be a marriage of convenience.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Signs the girl who just told me about her feelings for a certain Knights hockey defenseman.”

I ask about her husband and their wedding. Her eyes turn misty. “You know my real name is Dorothy, but Dell called me Dolly, like the singer, Dolly Parton. Said if that woman could sign like me, she’d be a famous millionaire.”

There was definitely a resemblance when my grandmother was younger. I’ve seen the photos. She was hot stuff!

Her smile is soft and sad. “He loved the way I moved my hands and communicated. The way I styled my hair, my eyes, smile, the cakes.” She tips her head back with laughter. “That I never missed a trick.”

I sign, “I hope to find love like that someday.”

Her lips ripple and she keeps her hands in her lap as if she’s holding something back … I guess not everything needs to be seen or heard to be communicated.

Later that night, while I can’t sleep, in my head, I see the graceful motion of my grandmother’s fingers and the signs, What if I already did find love ?

* * *

Liam is busy with playoffs and we’re like two ships passing by day and texting by night. Thankfully, I haven’t heard from Rexlan again. But my phone beeps and I check my messages.

Mr. Meanie: What are you doing next weekend?

Me: Let me check your schedule. brB.

Mr. Meanie: I mean, what are YOU doing?

Me: Duh. I’ll be doing your bidding.

Mr. Meanie: Haha. I’m wondering if you’d like to take a trip.

Me: To elope in Vegas? No thanks. Rexlan ruined that for me.

Mr. Meanie: I was talking about an away game. But now that you mention it, we could get married. Go through with it.

I actually LOL.

Me: You have a sense of humor and a very nice smile. Hallelujah!

Mr. Meanie:

For some reason, this detail burrows into my mind and it isn’t until the end of the week when we’re preparing to head to Toronto, that I realize why.

The man has never used an emoji. Ever.

But I can’t shake the feeling that he’s not joking.

However, there’s no reason for me to marry him other than to protect KJ from being indoctrinated into the criminal Coogan family. What are the chances that Liam and I would both have a connection to the lizard overlords?

The next day, I’m cautious for two reasons. One, Rexlan and his mother repeatedly harass me with messages about how I owe them for the cost of the wedding, plus interest, and promising retribution. The obvious solution is to hire a lawyer. Unfortunately, I can’t afford a minute with one, no less the hours it would take to explain the bizarre situation.

The second reason for my concern is I can’t shake the message from Liam.

He was joking, right? Right?!

KJ is excited for morning playtime at nursery school and I plan for us to make some more play dough. After I drop him off, pick up the ingredients, and swing by the pharmacy to get a muscle-cooling cream that Liam likes, I go to the house to meal prep for the week and am surprised to find him there, barking loudly into the phone from his home office before it goes abruptly quiet.

I resume peeling the sweet potatoes when he crashes into the kitchen, slamming cabinet doors.

“Good morning,” I say brightly if only to point out how dismal he’s acting.

He grunts.

Slam, pound, slam.

I say, “One of these days you’re going to tear those things off the hinges.”

He slams one harder.

I turn and tilt my head, lips pursed. “Did the mug cabinet door offend you that badly?”

He scowls.

“I brought you a smoothie.” I point to the fridge.

He attempts to slam the door, but it closes softly.

“Why are you so cranky? Does someone already need a nap or?—?”

Eyes on me, he leans against the counter and sips the drink.

His gaze trips something inside of me to the point where I may have a moment lapse of sanity because the next thing I know, I’m crossing the tile, planting myself between his legs, and lifting onto my toes.

His eyes widen.

I take the smoothie and set it on the counter.

His gaze turns heavy as if he’s in turn shocked and then keenly interested in what’s about to happen.

Recalling the kiss he gave me when we were in Colorado, I press my lips to his. Only this time, instead of the gentle kiss we shared, it’s frenzied, like we’re up against the clock, clamoring to get in as much kissing as we can before a timer dings. His fingers burrow into my hair and mine press firmly against the solid ridges of muscle on his back. As the kiss deepens, it’s a dizzying experience of constant motion, of longing meeting the moment.

When we part, we’re both quiet for a long spell until I remember I have to preheat the air fryer for the sweet potatoes.

“What was that all about?” he asks, fooling with the straw in his smoothie.

“I was curious to see if some of my lethal positivity would rub off on you.”

“Aggressive positivity,” he corrects.

“Pardon moi .”

“Why would you do that?”

I shrug. “To see if it would stop you from slamming cabinets. Chase you out of the kitchen. Turn your heart of stone into something else.”

He grunts.

“Glad it didn’t work … much.”

His eyebrows bounce in question.

I let out a long breath, returning to my senses. “Maybe I like the way you are. Who knew I’d want a beast in my life.”

“If that’s the case, a beast definitely needs a beauty.”

“That might be the strangest and sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, in a rough-around-the-edges way.”

However, as I toss the sweet potatoes in the air fryer, I can’t help but wonder if he means he also wants me.