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Ryker, my old boss, had been stopped outside his house, apparently. “It’s terrible, the whole situation. Brick has been suffering since the death of his son, and I hope that he gets the help he needs.”
Well, it wasn’t an out-and-out condemnation, but I’d take it.
Jesse huffed, muting the TV. “I’ve been trying to call Tally all morning, but she hasn’t answered.” Fear and doubt crossed his face. “What if she doesn’t come back?”
I shook my head. I refused to believe that. She would return now that it was safe. She loved us.
I patted his shoulder. This whole thing had been as hard on him as it had been on Rocco and I, even though he hadn’t been injured. It was in the way he hovered around, and how he looked longingly in Tally’s room or the nursery.
“We won’t give her a choice. We’ll show her how much we love her, and she’ll come back to us. I better go check on Rocco.”
Rocco’s mom was in the kitchen, and honestly, I wasn’t sure how I felt about her. It was obvious she loved her son, but she gave us suspicious looks all the time, like we were somehow waiting for him to die of surgical complications so we could steal his money.
I also didn’t like the way she’d treated Tally. I knew it would take some adjustment—she was old, so the idea of one woman with several men would be as foreign as not asking to see the manager. But she’d have to get used to the idea, and damn quickly, because Tally loved Rocco, and I loved Tally. Her happiness was paramount to me.
“Good morning, Mrs. Passero.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You need to explain.”
Okay, so I talked a big talk, but as soon as she used that tone of voice, I wanted to say, “Yes, ma’am,” and run in the opposite direction. “Explain what?”
“This relationship you have with my son and his wife.”
Eesh. Was it too late to pretend my ribs were so sore I couldn’t get out of bed? “Maybe that’s a discussion you should be having with Rocco?”
She shook her head, waving a spatula at me. Whatever she was cooking smelled freaking amazing. She grabbed a plate and loaded it with biscotti, then shoved a coffee in front of me. “Eat.” She turned back to the stovetop. “When I ask my son, he says, ‘It’s none of your business, Mamma. I don’t want to talk about it, Mamma.’” She huffed. “Like it’s bad that I want to know about how my baby lives his life! So you’ll have to explain it to me.”
It didn’t sound like I had much of an option, and did I mention she was terrifying? “Uh, what exactly do you want to know?”
“It is best to start at the beginning, no?”
This is so fucking weird. “I met Tally back when she was a NASCAR driver. She was in love with another racer…”
I was on my second cappuccino and stuffed full of pastries by the time I got to the part where we’d all come to an agreement that we loved and respected each other enough to make sure that Tally was always loved and cared-for, as well as Bobbi-June.
The older woman looked pensive as she sipped her own coffee. “Marriage can be lonely. No one tells you that when it’s you and him against the world, it is wonderful. But sometimes it’s also you against him, and then who has your back? You’re alone, and once upon a time, you were stuck.”
I nodded like I could understand, but honestly, I couldn’t. I was from the wrong generation, the wrong gender. I was well aware that I had life easier than so many people, just by some weird twist of fate.
“It still takes a lot of work, even more so because there’s a lot of people with a lot of feelings that can get hurt. You have to put your pride aside a lot.”
She nodded. “And the baby?”
I met her eyes, because I wanted her to know how serious my next statement was. “Bobbi-June is ours. She’s Tally’s biologically, but she’s also mine, and Rocco’s, and Jesse’s. Each one of us wants to be a father to that baby.”
“And future children?”
“They’ll be ours too. Doesn’t matter to me who they belong to genetically. I will raise them. Be their dad, regardless.”
She straightened, running the cloth from over her shoulder across the counter to clean up the crumbs. “Okay. Yes. What are you still doing here? Go and get my daughter-in-law and my grandbaby, so I can show them some love before I’m forced to go home. My husband does not do well on his own.” That was a loaded statement I didn’t really want to unpack. “He will probably starve to death if I don’t return soon, and I’d like to get to know them first.”
Nodding, I was already backing out of the room. “Yes, ma’am.” I hobbled out of there as fast as my busted-up leg could carry me.
Jesse found me in the hallway, his eyes wide as he saw me traveling like the hounds of Hell were on my heels. “Everything okay?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I got caught in the kitchen explaining polyamory to Mamma Passero.”
He cursed beneath his breath. “Are you emotionally okay?”
