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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

FORD

There’s exhausted, and there’s been-on-the-road-for-ten-days exhausted. The first sucks. The second leaves you in a constant state of where am I and what day is it delusions, making it impossible to keep anything straight except the game you were made to play. The come down from that is brutal. But unlike every other time I’ve come home from a grueling road trip to an empty apartment and an even emptier fridge, this time I have something to look forward to.

Thankfully it’s only mid afternoon when we get back to the Row. I’ve never been more grateful that the new people in management understood the assignment and secured us a whole travel day. Usually, we’d be forced to travel all night coast to coast followed by an early afternoon game the next day.

This way we can relax and ease back into this time zone. More importantly, I can take Juliet to dinner, surprise the shit out of her, then be in bed at a reasonable hour like the old man I am.

Smitty offers me a noncommittal grunt of goodbye as he slides into the apartment across from mine. The rookie has surprised the hell out of me with his dedication to this team. Of course, he feels like he owes it to them for taking a chance on him and calling him up from the minors, but more than that I can see that he really wants to make this team home. He’s got the makings of a career here, following in Bishop’s footsteps. If he continues doing what he’s doing, he’ll make a great leader.

I glance down at my cell, checking to confirm I’ve got a table for tonight. Soph’s text fills the screen.

SOPHIA: You’re lucky I love you and really want to meet Etta. I’ve got you down for a table in the back.

Perfect. I fire off a quick thanks to my only friend in New York outside the Renegades before opening the door to my apartment.

There is a record playing—Bowie, I think—and a woman with an entire head of red curls sitting on my couch with Lodhi in her lap, scrolling on her phone.

In any other instance I’d be panicked to find a random woman in my apartment, but the fact the demon spawn isn’t hissing is a good sign that he knows this woman.

I drop my stuff in the entryway, catching her attention.

She raises a skeptical brow. “You’re not Juliet.”

“No, I’m not.” I wait for her to explain who she is and what the hell she’s doing here, but again she doesn’t offer either. “And you are?”

“Paige.”

Juliet’s best friend. Well, at least that confirms she’s not a crazy cleat chaser, wanting to explain why she’s my future wife. “Juliet said you wanted to meet me, but I wasn’t expecting to be ambushed.”

Paige tips her head back, her curls shaking as she lets out a guttural laugh. “Oh, believe me this isn’t an ambush. Juliet wanted to be here when you got home.”

“And she’s not because…”

“Her date ran late.”

Every muscle in my body tenses. “Her what?”

I didn’t hear her right. I know she didn’t just say Juliet is on a date. That’s something she would have told me. Right? Maybe I’ve misread how close we’ve gotten over the past few weeks. I mean, I know Juliet wanted to move forward with her life, but dating is a big step. Especially after everything she’s been through. What if she’s not ready. Fuck. What if she is? Who the hell am I to stop her?

I just thought?—

“Her date.” Paige confirms and even though my body is rigid with shock, I feel the punch in my gut. But Paige doesn’t notice because she mistakes my silence for misunderstanding. “It’s where a minimum of two people gather to get to know one another with the intention of maybe one day seeing each other na?—”

“Thank you,” I snap, not needing the imagery. “I know what dating is. I just didn’t know Juliet was doing so.”

Paige searches my face. Her blue eyes narrow to slits like she’s almost seeing something but isn’t quite sure.

I wait.

And wait.

It’s not until I’m about to turn and grab my shit to put it away that her brows reach her hairline and her eyes go wide. “Well shit. Color me stupid.”

“What?” I don’t have any clue what that means.

“You want her.”

“Who?”

“Juliet. I mean, of course you want her. Who wouldn’t? But you really want her.”

“No, I don’t.” Espinoza’s words echo in my head, and as soon as they do, I taste the lie in my mouth.

Fuck.

Paige chuckles and rolls her eyes. “Yeah okay, and I’m the tooth fairy.”

I cross my arms over my chest and dig in. Do I think she and Espinoza are right? Maybe. Am I willing to admit that to her before I admit to Juliet? Not a chance in hell.

“What makes you think I want Juliet?” I ask.

She lifts a finger. “Well, there’s the fact you’ve bent over backwards to make sure she’s okay.”

“That’s what family does.”

Another finger. “Sure, but there’s also those crystals over there.”

My eyes narrow. “What about them?”

How the hell does she know about those?

“Oh, we know all about them.”

“We?”

“Yes, Etta knows too.”

Fuck.

I’m going to kill my teammates. “Carson?”

He’s the most likely culprit. Smitty and Espinoza might be all in on pranks and talking shit, but neither of them is meddlesome. Carson, on the other hand, can’t help himself.

“No.” Paige shakes her head. “We ran into a very lovely woman named Jo in the hall on the day Etta moved in.”

I scrub my hand over my face. “Damn it.”

Kiefer’s wife is as bad as Carson. She would love nothing more than to see me wifed up so she’s not the only woman at our D&D games.

“She said something about you killing her character.” Paige shrugs. “Whatever that means.”

I tilt my head, considering. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“So you’re a murderer?” Paige wiggles her eyebrows, and her lips split in a sinister smile. “While I’m all for the morally gray in my romance books,I’m not sure I want my best friend living with someone capable of such violence.”

“Damn it. Don’t tell me you’re part of the smut club too.”

“Oh, I’m the president. And Etta is my vice president.”

“Willow is going to love you guys,” I mutter, knowing damn well that as soon as any of the wives catch wind of their reading habits, they’ll be invited to join the book club the wives and girlfriends like to pretend doesn’t exist. But the guys all know. They meet and discuss their dirty romances, and we get together and have a drink. Then once it’s over, all the married or otherwise attached guys disappear, knowing damn well they are getting laid after their significant others have been talking about smut all night.

“Can’t wait to meet her,” Paige says. “She seems like a real badass.”

“She is.”

“But back to the murder.” Paige sits back and crosses one leg over the other, resting her hands on top like she’s a therapist waiting to strike with the hard hitting questions. “Do I need to be worried for my best friend’s life?”

I huff sarcastically. “She meant I’m going to kill her D&D character. I’m the Dungeon Master.”

She shakes her shoulders. “Etta said you were nerdy, but that sounds kinda kinky.”

“I fucking cannot,” I mutter under my breath, absolutely tired of this conversation. “Speaking of Etta, when is she supposed to be home?”

“An hour ago.”

“Shit.” I glance over at the clock and see it’s now five o’clock. “What time was she supposed to meet this guy? Where did they go? If she was supposed to be back, why haven’t you gone looking for her?”

“Whoa.” Paige lifts her hands, palms toward me. “Calm down, Captain America.”

I almost correct her and say she’s got the wrong Avenger, but I stop myself when I remember only Etta calls me Hulk. And even then, it’s only when she’s irritated with me.

“They went for coffee. I have her location, and she told me they decided to walk home instead of grabbing a cab.”

I turn away from Paige and exhale, not fully convinced we shouldn’t be out there looking for Juliet. I’m not sure I’ll be fully okay until I have eyes on her.

Damn it. What is wrong with me? I’ve never been this protective of anyone. Even my mom. Sure, I punched Earl in the face for her and got her out of that situation, but I didn’t feel like I couldn’t breathe not knowing if she was safe.

This is something else.

I bring my hand to my chest, feeling the racing of my heart beneath my skin.

This is what she does to me.

“In case you are wondering.” I didn’t hear Paige get up from the couch or cross the room, but now she’s standing beside me, smiling. “This”—she gestures at me—“is how I know you want her.”

“How?”

“You’re jealous as shit she went on that date. Angry that she didn’t tell you. But at the end of the day, you don’t care as long as you know she’s safe. She could probably come home and tell you she’s marrying this guy, and you’ll smile and tell her you’re happy for her even though it’s going to kill you inside.”

“Do you know something I don’t about how this date went?” Because despite Paige’s absolutely accurate description on how that situation would go down, I don’t exactly want to be here to see it play out.

“No, Goldie.”

I balk. “Goldie.”

“Golden Retriever.” She says it like it’s obvious. “I think you’re safe from having to lie about your deep infinite love for my best friend. Etta texted a while ago saying it wasn’t going to work out because while he’s nice, pasta is his favorite food so it could never be a true love match.”

“Good thing my favorite food is sushi.”

“She also said he was a bit on the pushy side, which is why I’m here.”

“You’re a good friend.”

Paige shrugs. “We girls gotta stick together. But now that you’re here, I’m off. I’m already late for my next cleaning.”

I nod in understanding. “I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

“I know.” She picks up her purse and scoots around my bags at the door. “Oh, and Ford.”

“Yeah?”

“If you decide to pull your head out of your ass and make a move, don’t hurt her. You might be above murder, but I’m not. And Etta will help me hide the body.”

I press my lips together, holding back my laugh. “Noted.”

“Ta-ta.”

* * *

It’s only after Paige is gone and I’ve showered and put my laundry into its designated piles that I allow myself to sink into the couch and think about everything that has transpired. Not only the conversation with Paige, but since Juliet reappeared in my life.

She’s…God, she’s everything. Smart. Kind. Funny. Despite all the bullshit thrown her way, she’s still kept all the best parts of herself I remember from our youth. She’s still got that smile that lights up a room, and the ability to tell a story in a way that leaves you on the edge of your seat. Juliet is sunshine on the sea at sunrise, giving light to the darkest waters. And even though there are times she lives in those waters, haunted by her past, somehow she still moves forward.

And fuck if I don’t want to be a part of whatever that looks like. I want to be her boat—her safety. I want to navigate the storm with her.

For the first time since being home I look around my apartment—like really look—and all I see is Juliet. And even though I like having my own space and my own way of doing things, her presence doesn’t bother me the way I thought it might. Her records look good on my bookshelf, even if they are old enough to be my dads. The romance novel flipped over on top of my D&D books on the coffee table looks like an amazing night on the couch in the making. Even the cat toys littered across the floor for her little devil worshiper make me smile. And I really don’t like cats, but I’d start feeding the feral ones that live in the building trash cans for her.

Paige is right.

Espinoza is right.

I want Juliet.

The question is, could she ever want me? She might not hate me anymore, but I’m a living reminder of the man who took so much away from her. He might not have been my blood, but was still my brother.

My phone is in my hand before I can think twice, finger hovering over her name with a burning need to find out where the hell she is, when I hear a commotion at the door followed by Juliet’s voice.

“I don't really think that’s a good idea.”

“But we’re having such a good time.” The guy’s voice is disarming and sweet. “We can watch a movie. Netflix and Chill.”

Absolutely fucking not.

A mix of irritation and rage filled guard dog flood my system, and I’m off the couch and at the door in seconds.

“No, I don’t think so.” Juliet placates the pushy asshole.

She’s much nicer than I am.

“Come on, Et?—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before I swing open the door and crash their date. Juliet loses her balance, having been pressed up against the door, and falls into me. Body trembling, she buries her face into my chest, and I swear I hear her choke back a sob.

“Holy shit you’re Ford McCoy.”

When I look up at the douche she thought was worthy of an ounce of her time, I immediately regret it. He’s too pretty with his Tommy Bahama shirt, khakis, and boat shoes. I’d bet money this asshole’s family has a house in the Hamptons, and he’s used to having girls agree to whatever he wants. All he has to do is pretend to care.

And all I want to do is punch the surprised smug smile off his face that makes it seem like he just won the lottery by dropping Juliet off at my door.

If only he knew how lucky he is she’s in my arms so I can’t risk breaking my hand again for her.

“Yup,” I confirm. “And you’re leaving.”

There’s a flicker of fear in his eyes as they dart between me and Juliet. “Wait, is she your girlfriend?”

“Is everything okay?” Smitty pokes his head out of his apartment across the way.

“This guy needs to be escorted out of the building,” I tell him.

“Holy shit. You’re Noah Smith!”

“You’re observant,” Smitty mutters, giving me a nod. “I got it.”

“Thanks, Smit.”

“Wait, is she your girlfriend? I mean I’m sorry, but Etta, I really thought we connected.”

My eyes narrow at the same time I tighten my grip around Juliet, who hasn’t moved a muscle. “Do you have a death wish?”

Smitty’s hand finds the back of the guy’s neck as he guides him from my door. “Listen, I know you think you had a thing with her, but here’s the thing…”

I lift Juliet and step back into my apartment, officially ending her date with the slam of the door.

Smitty will handle the pretentious prick, and if he can’t, he knows there’s a whole team willing and ready to protect what’s ours.

And even if it’s only in my heart, Juliet is most definitely mine.