Page 31 of Worth the Try (Atlanta Granite #1)

Elodie

I GRAB THE Irish liqueur and make each of us a drink before joining Ansel on the outside patio. The night is far from quiet, crickets and frogs and cicadas all making their usual noises. It’s muggy, too, and the overhead fan serves only to move the humid air around.

Ansel straightens from where he’d been turning on the candles, his attention finding the drinks. He grins. “Smart woman.”

I hand him one of the glasses. He takes it, clinking it against mine before bringing it to his lips. We drink, then take a seat.

“Tell me,” I say without preamble.

He gives a reluctant smile. “Just diving right in, are we?”

I give him a look. “Yes. We are.”

He sighs and runs a hand over his face, scratching at his beard. “There’s not much to tell. Once I got out of college, I was never one to, um, indulge in the opportunities that being a rugby player presented.”

“Opportunities like rugger huggers?”

He winces. “Yes. I hate the term, but…yes.” After a beat, he continues, “But there was one night. We’d won our first game—not just of the season, but the first game as an official team in the league—and one of the guys, Jake, had made the winning try.

It was the first try he’d made on the team, and there’s a tradition.

” He breaks off, smiling sheepishly. “I’m not sure you want to hear this. ”

“Jake, the giant Samoan who’s marrying Allyson? Jake, the man whose honeymoon I’m planning?”

He nods. “The one and the same.”

“Oh, I want to hear all of it,” I assure him with a smile. “Spill it.”

With a grin, he tells me, “Any time a player on the team scores their first try in a game, they have to take their clothes off at the bar, and we throw beer on them.”

I let out a shocked laugh. “What?”

His cheeks tinge pink in the candlelight. “It’s tradition. I don’t make the rules. They have to get naked and run a lap around the bar. And we’re all waiting, usually with pitchers of beer, to splash on them as they go.”

Still smiling, I ask, “And what about the poor patrons who aren’t rugby players?”

He shrugs. “They…get wet? Enjoy the show?”

I laugh. “Poor Jake.”

“Poor Jake? ” Ansel says, pretending to be shocked. “I’ll have you know that I was the first one to have to do it on that team.”

I leer at him. “Bet that was a fabulous sight to behold.”

“Shut up,” he laughs.

“Wait—is this still a thing? This tradition?”

He shakes his head. “Sort of, but we don’t do it in public bars anymore.”

“That whole famous, pro athlete thing?” I tease.

“Something like that,” he grins. Then he grows serious again. “So, that night, Jake has to do the thing. And there’s the usual batch of women hanging out at the bar with us, hoping to get lucky.” He exhales. “Lauren was one of them.”

I stay quiet.

“And…I don’t know. I drank more than I should have. We were all having a great time, and I thought, why not? Just once, right? I’d not seen her around, so I thought maybe she wasn’t one of the?—”

“Rugger huggers?” I offer.

His mouth twists. “Yeah. We went to her place. I wore a condom. I swear I did. And when it was over, I called an Uber and went home.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he confirms. “She walked me to the door, and I left, and…yeah. That was that.” He swallows. “And then a year later, everything changed.”

My stomach sinks.

He reaches for his drink, downing it in one swallow.

“The Granite were rising stars. We weren’t Atlanta royalty like the Braves or Falcons, but we were starting to be recognized.

I got my first sponsorship deal. The Granite leadership knew what they had with me, and they offered me a stupidly generous deal if I locked in a ten-year contract.

Which is unheard of. Especially in a league that was still trying to break through and find its fans. ”

He looks so pained that I reach over and put my hand on his knee.

“I was riding high, Elodie. For the first time in my life, it felt like everything was locking into place. My parents had just retired, I’d bought this amazing house, and I had friends, real friends, for the first time in my life.

” He looks down. “I was so fucking happy. Invincible.” Guilt laces his every word.

“As you should have been,” I insist. “You deserve to be happy, Ansel.”

He shakes his head.

“ Yes .” But it’s clear he doesn’t believe me.

“One morning, I get up like always. And I do what I always do, go about my routine without a care in the world. Until I hear a knock at my door.”

I wait, letting him get the words out.

“I answer, and Sharon’s there. At her feet is a tiny little baby in a car carrier.

And Sharon’s looking at me, and I’m looking at her, until she finally asks me why there’s a baby on my doorstep.

” He pauses. “It was eleven in the morning. And I—I still don’t know how long she was even out there.

” His voice cracks on the last words as he meets my eyes.

There isn’t anything I can say to that. I reach for his hand and squeeze.

He exhales roughly and clears his throat, swiping at his eye.

“So. We bring the baby inside, and there’s an envelope with her birth certificate and a note.

” He lets out a bitter laugh, and when he speaks again, anger laces his words.

“She left a fucking note , Elodie. Like a coward. I still have it. I wanted to burn it, but Sharon wouldn’t let me.

Said I might need it one day.” His jaw clenches.

“My name was listed as the father on the birth certificate. Lauren’s name was there as the mother. Rosalie wasn’t quite three months old.”

“Oh, God,” I whisper, the reality of what he must have gone through crashing through me.

He chokes out a laugh. “Yeah. That’s about what I said, too.”

“But what if she’s not—” I begin.

“I had a DNA test,” he interrupts. “Not that it would have mattered.”

I swallow hard and force the tears away. “And that was it? She never contacted you again?”

“She did. Later that day. But only to make sure I had her. That I—that I was going to keep her.” His eyes turn to steel. “She said she would give her up for adoption if I didn’t.”

I inhale a sharp breath.

“But Elodie, the second I looked at that tiny little girl, all scrunched up in her carrier and eyeing me with all the sass she still gives me today, I was a fucking goner. I hadn’t even read the note yet.

I didn’t need to. I knew. I just knew , and in that moment…

” He swallows and meets my gaze, a small smile on his lips. “That’s when I became a father.”

The love in his eyes as he says it, the way his whole body seems to soften at the admission, it simply undoes me.

The final thread that had held me together disappears, evaporating into the muggy night.

I lean over and kiss him, my heart feeling like it might actually burst with the way I feel about him. “You,” I say against his lips.

He pulls me close, not releasing the kiss. “Me, what?”

“You are incredible.”

He laughs. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m barely holding it together.”

I lean back and study him, pushing his silky hair back from his face, his eyes glimmering with mirth behind his glasses. “Let me help.”

His eyes seem to shutter. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“I’m already helping, Ansel,” I remind him, forcing him to look at me. “In case you haven’t noticed.”

He doesn’t respond at first. Then he says, “My lawyer is working on things. To keep her away from us. From Rosalie,” he corrects quickly, seeming to realize what he said. “And…it was because of her that you and Rosie were followed. I’m not sure how many times it’s happened, either.”

Fear streaks through me. “And now?”

“Now, I’ve put a restraining order on her. Or tried to, at least. But I don’t know if it’ll make a difference. Something tells me…” He sighs. “I have a bad feeling about everything. That’s all.”

I bite my lip, letting it all sink in.

His eyes dart between mine. “There’s one more thing.”

I wait.

“Lauren showed up here last night.”

“She what ?” I growl the words, a protective anger rising so quickly in me it’s dizzying.

He nods grimly. “That’s why I left—I was so angry, and I didn’t want you or Rosie to see me like that. I’m sorry I left. But I just—I was furious. I didn’t trust myself to go inside.”

I grip his hand and squeeze. “Thank you for telling me.”

“She threatened to go to the media about us.”

I start. “Why? But why would anyone care about us?”

He grins wryly. “I keep telling you we’re famous, Elodie.”

“I know.”

He smiles. “I…don’t think you really do. You’ve not had to see anything since it’s the off-season, but…” He trails off and shrugs.

“No one bothered us on that one date, so you’re not Travis-Kelce-level famous.”

“No,” he admits with a chuckle. “I most certainly am not. It’s not so much that it’s intrusive, per se, but if Lauren says something to the media?—”

“Let her,” I declare, squaring my shoulders.

Ansel studies me. “I’m not sure you’re ready for that.”

A flare of indignation courses through me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Easy, tiger,” he says, rubbing his hands along my thighs. “I only mean that I want you to carefully consider the ramifications of something like this happening. It’s not easy, being in the public eye.”

I think back to conversations I’ve had with Kari. The nightmare PR scenarios she’s dealt with over the course of her time with the Granite and other companies. “I’m ready.”

His eyes flare with surprise.

“Nice Girl Elodie is gone, remember?” I say with a smile. “I can handle it. I can handle Lauren. ”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” he says. Then he pulls me to him for a kiss. When we break apart, he says, “One more thing.”

I worry my bottom lip, knowing what’s coming.

“Tell me. Earlier. When you said?—”

My pulse kicks up. I know what he’s referring to, but I ask anyway. “That I can’t have kids?”

His chin dips slightly in confirmation, then his eyes dart to my neck and chest as I take a huge breath. “It’s okay, Elle,” he says quietly.