“It’s no problem. We’re happy you could make it. A nice surprise that our schedules lined up for a day off,” he replies.
As Carse steps back, Teddy stands off to the side, hands in his pockets, rooted in place.
I take a shot at clearing the awkward tension that’s fallen over the room. Offering him the bottle of Maker’s Mark, he just shakes his head once to himself.
“I told my little princess not to get her hopes up. It might not be drugs this time, but bringing around the hard stuff?” Teddy tsks me.
I’m about to drop my hand with the alcohol, but Carson scoops it up.
“What my dad meant to say is how thoughtful of you to bring the host a gift you know he enjoys, even when you don’t drink during the season.” Carson tries to come to my rescue.
Teddy scoffs. “It’ll take a lot more than my drink of choice to soften me.”
“I understand that, Theo. I wasn’t trying to placate you. I can’t eradicate the past. Unfortunately, I missed out on time that I can never make up for. But I intend to do right by your granddaughter and McKenna.”
“What sweet words. Only your actions and time will tell. Until then, don’t expect me to let up,” Teddy practically growls the last sentence out.
“I look forward to proving myself to McKenna and Cadence. If, in turn, that changes your opinion of me, all the better.”
With that, Teddy turns to the kitchen to help Liz with Cadence and I overhear her lecturing him to let go of his tough-guy act.
I’ve got my work cut out for me to prove myself to everyone—but I was honest with her dad. My first priority is to make sure Kenna and Cadence know they can depend on me and not worry about what her father thinks of me.
27
December
I’m in so much trouble. Griffin Turner has flipped a switch inside my brain that makes me lose my head when he’s near.
I’m just getting ready to leave my house to meet at the team bus. We’ll ride together to the arena we’re playing at today. The National Championship for volleyball is in St. Paul this year, and we made the final four. We won our game on Thursday afternoon, and today is the championship game.
Griff flew in for today’s game. He has to take a red eye to get back for practice tomorrow, but he showed up for me. My walls are slowly coming down, and I’ve never felt more vulnerable.
Griff just got to my house to spend time with Cadence before they go to the arena we’re playing at.
Instead of shrugging off his jacket when he comes inside, he picks up Cades and asks, “Can Cadence and I drop you off, Mama?”
Holy shit. Never in my life did I think being called Mama would make me so wet I would need to throw out my panties, but here is this sexy-as-sin man calling me Mama in that low, raspy voice of his, and I’m soaked.
As if he knows what calling me that just did to me, he sends me an ovary-bursting smile and accompanies it with a rakish wink.
“That’d be great, thanks.” My voice squeaks. I know it does.
Griff knows I don’t prefer to drive in the city traffic, but I still refuse to take an Uber or rideshare since the accident. We talked about it the other night when he FaceTimed us for Cadence’s bedtime. Once she was asleep, he didn’t rush off the phone. Instead we stayed up talking for almost two hours before I told him I had to finish a project for school.
That’s been happening more and more lately—he and I FaceTiming and texting about more than just Cadence.
“I thought maybe we could take my truck if that’s okay with you?” Griff requests.
“We could, but you don’t have a car seat installed for her,” I regretfully reply. I’m not sure if he didn’t hear me or if he’s choosing to ignore me as he guides me outside to the passenger side of his truck.
“Oh, that. I picked one up when I was in town last time.”
He what?
“What? When?”
“When I came for Thanksgiving, I had Carse help me pick one out and teach me how to install it.”
