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I nodded slowly, barely seeing the familiar faces as The Outpost grew more crowded by the minute. “I may have said some things.”

“Pretty terrible things according to Persy,” Ryan admitted. “I had to hold her down to prevent her from going after you and let me tell you, those pointy stilettos hurt like hell.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I shook my head as the true weight of my words hit me. They weren’t just cruel, they were public. Very public. Not only had people I’d known my entire life seen me lose my cool and shout at a woman, they’d heard all the things I said to her. And they didn’t know Zola well enough not to believe my words. “Shit.”

“At least he’s finally starting to see that he was in the wrong,” Cal spoke to Ryan as if I wasn’t even at the table.

“Maybe I was, but so was she. Do you know that she admitted she wasn’t even going to tell me about the baby? Did she think she would be able to hide it from me?” That only increased my distrust of her.

“Wait.” Ryan reached for my beer and removed it from my grip. “She wasn’t even going to tell you, but somehow she lied about a pregnancy to trap you? Now you really are talking out of your ass, my friend.”

I snatched my beer back and drained half of it in one gulp. “She fooled me good, though. To think, I was actually worried about her being so tired lately, afraid she was working herself too hard. I was starting to feel guilty about that.” I hadn’t been the best fellowship mentor, I knew that, and I worried that it was my fault she was teaching herself things I should have been teaching her. “But while I was worried, she was keeping a big damn secret.”

“Seems like she knows you better than you think.” Cal tossed out the words so casually, I froze.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, you were so ready to believe the worst about her, she probably figured you would easily believe the baby was someone else’s, if you even noticed.”

“Ouch.” I glared at Cal. “Who’s side on you on, anyway?”

“Yours,” Ryan answered emphatically. “If you have a legitimate reason to think she’s lying or that you have nothing to do with her pregnancy.” His stare was steely and I knew I had to tread carefully.

“This isn’t Persy and her ex, Ryan.”

“It’s not exactly the same, sure. But let me ask you a question that you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, okay?”

I nodded.

“Do you really believe that Zola set you up or are you feeling some kind of way because you’re into this woman, any woman, for the first time since we lost Sarah?”

I opened my mouth to give Ryan a firm denial but it died on my lips. Is that what I was doing, punishing Zola because I liked her? Because I promised myself I would never date or marry again, and then she came along and ruined my plans? “That’s not it,” I insisted weakly.

Ryan accepted my words at face value. “Then I’m on Zola’s side.” He drained his beer, pushed away from the table and walked away.

“Cheer up,” Cal advised. “Maybe she wasn’t going to tell you about the baby because she doesn’t plan on being here when she starts showing.”

I froze, the beer halfway between the table and my mouth, and turned to Cal. It was a scenario I hadn’t even considered, that Zola might leave Jackson’s Ridge and never come back. Her brother lived here, sure, but he traveled a lot and she could meet up with him anywhere. The same was true of Aaron and Suzie and the twins. “Shit.”

“Welp, my work here is done.” Cal pushed his chair back and stood with a sigh more fitting a man twice his age. “I hope you figure out what you want to do before it’s too late.”

“You and me both,” I grumbled to his retreating back and then ordered another beer, because what the hell was I going to do? The idea of going back to an empty house, alone, where I would obsess over Zola didn’t sound ideal so I stayed at The Outpost and drank away my sorrows.

Zola

“Come in!” I scrambled around the living room in search of my favorite chandelier black diamond earrings, one of which had fallen during a play session with Gigi and Berna yesterday. I was sure it had fallen between the sofa cushions or under the coffee table, and I wouldn’t let something as mundane as a knock at the door halt my search.

“I could have been a murderer,” Gavin growled from a few feet away.

I looked up at him with my arm patting the floor under the coffee table. “If you’re a knocking murder, I’ll take my chances. What’s up, rock star?”

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