This is painful.
“Not high, you can’t.” Harry grabs one of Tyler’s shoulders, firmly nudging him to turn around. Tyler jerks himself away and out of Harry’s grip.
Tyler shifts back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking like he’s about to lose his balance. “You guys can’t keep me from my son!”
Alright. I’ve had enough. It’s time for me to handle this.
I step in front of Harry, getting two inches from Tyler’s face. Lifting my hand, I point a finger directly into his face, making sure that he can see and hear me correctly because I’m only saying this once.
“If you want to ruin the carefully crafted image of you that Bailey has spent your son’s entire life creating, then go ahead. But I can assure you, Tyler, that one day you might decide to find some help and get clean, and when that day comes, you’re going to be extremely fucking grateful that she is the incredible woman that she is and that she hasn’t ruined how Luca sees you.” I lower my finger a little. “Now get the hell out of here and do not come back until you’re sober.”
His movements are slow, almost delayed, as he tries to back away from Harry and me. I’m surprised by the fact that I actually feel sorry for him. A broken and sick man, completely lost and not in the right state of mind.
“You’re probably fucking her, aren’t you?” he taunts, slowly chuckling.
“Go home.” I try my best to ignore his comment about Bailey and not let him get to me. “Let’s go, Harry,” I say, gesturing for the backyard.
“I do miss that tight little cunt of hers. Have fun with it,” he shouts, walking backward down the driveway.
“Oh, hell no,” Harry says, jerking his body around and clenching his jaw.
I swiftly grab Harry’s shoulder. “Let it go. He isn’t worth it,” I tell him, hoping that he doesn’t beat the shit out of his sister’s ex-boyfriend in the middle of his parents’ upper-class suburban neighborhood. Even though I myself am feeling overwhelmingly territorial and buzzing with anger and frustration, all my mind keeps thinking about is Bailey and how she’s feeling right now.
We stand at the end of the driveway like two security guards ready to intercept something at any moment until Harry finally decides that we should head in. He goes through the front door, presumably to talk with Fred about what just happened, if Bailey hasn’t already.
I head the opposite direction, stalking into the backyard from the side gate, still pumping with adrenaline. Luca is now on the grass playing with Penelope with his new toys scattered everywhere. Bailey sits on the edge of the patio couch, anxiously bouncing her leg up and down.
As soon as she sees me come around the side of the house, she immediately rises and jogs over but stops herself from getting too close.
But I don’t.
I close that gap by grabbing her, taking her into my arms, and hugging her tightly. I feel her muscles relax. and her shoulders fall as her body melts into mine.
“We handled it, B. He was just really high.” I bury my face in her hair, letting my lips rest on top of her head. She shrinks even more, releasing the air from her lungs.
“I tried to talk to him. I tried to tell him that it’s for the best right now, and I’m not purposely keeping Luca from him out of some spite or anger.”
I wipe away the tear under her eye with my thumb. “I know and I’m sure somewhere inside him, he knows that too.”
“He hasn’t shown up like this since Luca’s second birthday.”
“We handled it. At least he decided to crash the party after it was already over,” I tell her.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she whispers, nuzzling my shirt.
Pulling away, I move my arms from her back and bring them up to her face. Her large brown eyes stare into mine, searching for an explanation. But there’s only one she needs to know. “I wanted to.”
She smiles. “Thank you.”
Not even thinking about where we are or who’s around, I dip my head down, bringing my lips to hers, and kiss her softly.
A gentle spring breeze wraps around us, quickly reminding me that we are outside and not alone.
Fuck.
She must have realized it, too, because she draws her head up the same time as I do, both of our eyes wide. I’m sure she can see the panic in mine as I see it in hers.
With my palms still resting on her cheeks, we both turn to the side to see her mom and Jess staring at us through the kitchen window. It’s clear the color has drained from Jess’s face, but Bailey’s mom’s face remains locked on us with the corner of her mouth curved up into, if I’m not mistaken, a beaming smile.
