She isn’t used to this. I am.
The invasion of her privacy could destroy her. The media is going to have a field day.
“Jenna’s on her way,” Kye says. “With the security team and the police.”
“Great. It’s a fucking circus!” I snap, running my hand through my hair. “Where’s Mom?”
“Shopping,” Dad replies. “She’s going to have a heart attack when she gets back.”
“Where is she?” Tate stands. “I’ll bring her back.”
“No need,” I say wryly. “She’s showing them where Leila gets her attitude from.”
Southern women: sweet as pie and strong as hell.
“Assholes, takin’ up my damn driveway!” Mom fumes as she comes through the door. “What’s a woman gotta do to feed her family nowadays?” She finds Tate. “Tate! What did you do?”
“For once, nothin’.” He practically growls at her. “They found out about Mila.”
Mom looks stunned. “Oh, Lordy.”
I run my hand through my hair again. “Did you bring the groceries in?”
“No. I wanted to know why I have vultures in my drive.”
“Good.” I open the front door.
“What are you doin’, boy?” Dad hollers.
“Bringing in Mom’s groceries.”
“Without a shirt?”
I look down at my bare torso and shrug. “Give ’em somethin’ else to talk about.”
My brothers all laugh and follow me out. The second I step outside the shouts start.
Is it true? Conner, do you have a baby? Who’s the mom, Conner? Conner, can we ask you some questions? Conner, Conner, Conner!
They push and push until they get closer, and the rumble of a black 4×4 breaks through, followed by two cop cars. The police get out and—along with our regular security detail—immediately push them back.
Jenna steps out of car, unruffled, and strolls across to us. “It’s a good thing I was on my way to check on you boys anyway. Five days of nothin’. I was getting worried, and with good reason.”
She looks at me pointedly. I grab some bags and carry them inside.
“Explain. Now,” she demands the second I set them down.
“You know about Sofie?”
“Sure do, hon.”
“She’s back in town. With my baby.”
“Well, shit. I thought they were just makin’ crap up again.”
“Not this time.” I lean against the table and exhale. “Sofie and I weren’t ready for them to find out yet. They snuck into the woods and overheard a pretty heated conversation between me and her. They have no actual proof since there’s no pictures of Mila, but that’s where we’re at.”
My phone rings.
“Marc,” she says. “Answer it.”
“Hello?”
“What the fuck is going on down there? Five days into your tour break and you’re fucking shit up! A baby? Conner? Start talking!” our manager yells at me through the phone.
I tell him exactly what I just told Jenna, only with a few more details. He does what I expect him to and goes crazy.
“Do you know what this could do for your image?”
“I don’t give a shit, Marc. I’m not going to publicly deny my daughter because of something that happened with a girl I was in a relationship with. It’s not like she’s a random woman takin’ me for everything I got!”
That placates him a little. He lets out a long breath that crackles down the line. “I have media outlets ringing me up every five minutes wanting a statement. What am I telling them?”
I hear footsteps on the porch, and Leila pushes the door open. Sofie walks in, a sleeping Mila cradled in her arms, and I gaze at both of them as I say, “Nothing. You tell them absolutely nothing.”
I hang up and drop the phone on the table. Gently, I lean forward and press a kiss to Mila’s forehead.
“What’s going on?” Sofie whispers.
“In here,” I reply just as quietly, guiding her into the front room.
Mom takes one look at Mila sleeping and steps forward. “Pass her here, darlin’. I’ll take her upstairs. She can snuggle up in my bed.”
“Oh, you don’t—”
“I do,” she says wisely. Sofie passes her over and Mom shushes her, rocking her as she carries her grandbaby upstairs.
I look out the window again. Unbelievably, in the last few minutes, the crowd has grown and the police have arrested one of the reporters.
Sofie comes up beside me. “Conner, what—what is this?”
“They heard us,” I tell her. “When we were fighting on the beach. They were in the woods.”
She looks at me, her eyes widening. I’ve never seen her look so afraid.
“They know about Mila?” she whispers.
“Nothing concrete, but they know enough to start this media circus out here.”
She covers her mouth with her hand, looking completely vulnerable, and guilt hits me hard. Fuck. I should have known better. That’s the bottom line.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
“No.” She swallows. “It’s not your fault. What do we do now?”
She blinks, her eyes flitting to the window and back to me, and when they meet mine, I can’t help it. I step forward and crush her in my arms. I need to take that fear away, but I need to lean on her, too.
Because I don’t know what the hell we do now.
Slowly, she wraps her arms around my waist. I cup the back of her head and breathe her in, the flowery scent of her shampoo filling my nose as I lay my cheek atop her head. She’s trembling, and I’d do anything to take it away.
It’s not about the past in this moment. It’s about protecting Mila.
“Con? What do we do?” she repeats.
“I wish I knew, princess.” I hold her tighter as she shudders.
She sniffs, and warm water drops in a trail down my stomach. I pull back and cup her face.
“Hey, you’re not meant to cry on these abs. They’re made for licking, don’tcha know?”
She stares at me blankly for a minute before she laughs softly. “You’re an idiot.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” I prompt, and she nods. I rub my thumb across her cheeks and under her eyes, wiping the tears away. I hate seeing her cry, hate knowing it could have been avoided.
“Hey. We’ll work it out.”