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“You’re our captain.” Jones shrugged. “Your fiancée outlined all you’re trying to do and it’s fucking incredible. She told us that you’re trying to make a safe place for children, to give them a start in life not everyone gets.”
God, that woman deserved so much more than he could ever give her.
Jasper sat forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, his vibrant red hair a startling contrast to his nearly black gaze. “We give to charity all the time, Cap. It’s a thing that we do. Did you really think we would pass up a chance to give to one that meant something special to a guy we all admire?”
“I told you all to fuck off and never contact me. I ghosted you, ignored all your calls and attempts to reach out.”
“Yeah, you fucking prick.” Carlos again. The man had zero malice in his tone, though.
“And you still came?”
“With checkbooks in hand. Or Venmo, or however you want our money.”
He glanced at Tully and Mitchell who had proud papa expressions on their faces. “Did you two know about this?”
“No, you bastard,” Mitchell snapped. “But we’re pissed, too. We also have friends with pockets, as well you know. Why didn’t you come to us about this? Instead of going to Texas and putting on a show for a man who had people around him that couldn’t even respect that Emma was a taken woman?”
His body went rigid at that. “Excuse me?”
“Dumbass. You know she didn’t tell him, Mitchell. And you went and blurted it out.” Tully wiped his fingers on the paper towel at his side.
His notoriously gossipy friend merely shrugged. “She didn’t and she’s not going to. Jackass needs to know how much damage he did so he can fix it all.”
“Who said something to Emma?”
They all shot him a glare. “Besides you?” Mitchell bit off.
He ground his teeth. “Tell me what happened.”
…
The pounding on her door surprised her. Greer was at the center and Emma had gotten home from Wolcott’s ninety minutes prior. On the counter sat two freshly baked pies she’d made with some of the fruits she’d gotten.
A perk, Mrs. Dani had called them, as she’d loaded up the back of Emma’s car.
“Coming,” she called out, tossing the tea towel over her shoulder. Outside, the promise of snow hovered in the air and she was more than happy to be indoors with the oven adding more heat to the home.
Drawing the door open, she sucked in a breath. Linc stood on her stoop, his face a mask of unreadable emotion. Simply seeing him tore at her and ripped off the temporary scab settled over her feelings for him.
“Nope.” She swung the door shut.
It didn’t close. He’d shoved his hand between the door and the jamb at the last moment.
“Hear me out, Freckles.”
No he didn’t.
Yanking on the doorknob, she ripped the door open and glared at him, determined not to take in how his jeans rode low on his hips, or the way his leather jacket draped on those broad shoulders and down, nearly covering up the jersey he wore, this time a Capitals one. Without a hat his hair moved in the wind, which had no problem whipping around, slamming into what it hit with the promise of what was coming.
Yeah, good job. Didn’t notice that at all.
“You lost the right to call me that when you humiliated me.” Her words were rough, grated. “Go away and don’t speak to me unless absolutely necessary.”
“Let me explain.”
“No. I’ve been viewed like a slut before. When I was pregnant in school. When I dropped out to have my daughter. Being the daughter of a man who had no qualms about sleeping around, whether it was with married or single women—he was an equal opportunity asshole. You accused me of something similar and while it hurts like hell, I’ll get over it, but what I will never do is let it hurt my daughter. Go back to your beanpole women who are blatant about wanting money from you because your insecurity about that isn’t anything I care to risk. Not when my daughter’s future is in the balance.”
Guilt flashed over his skin. “I deserved that.” He licked his lips. “Let me make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me? How are you going to do that? Offer me more money? Turn me into exactly what you accused me of being? A gold digger who is going after someone with more money? I’m after an active player, remember?”
He rocked on his heels and she took the time to slam the door in his face. Did she nearly get her own fingers? Sure. But it was worth it because he was gone.
Swallowing a sob, she went to the kitchen and gripped the counter as she sucked in shallow, rapid breaths.
She took her anger out on the dough for the bread she intended to make. Even so, she made sure not to over knead it. After splitting it into five sections and covering the pans, allowing it to rise a bit more, she started cleaning.
