Most Eligible Baby Daddy (11 page)

Elle was violently yanked out of her little reverie when a man came crashing angrily through the door of the diner.

Oh great, the first customer of the day and he’s an asshole.

But then Elle stopped dead in her tracks. This wasn’t just any asshole, it wasn’t even the assholes she’d already met in Stone Peak, Phil and company.

It was Gris.

“I knew I’d find you here you little bitch,” Gris said, stumbling into the diner.

He’d been drinking. He was unshaved, unwashed, and very angry.

“Gris,” she gasped. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, you little bitch. I’m going to make you pay for wrecking my Camaro.”

“Gris, please, not here.”

“Look at you. You see me and within two minutes you’re begging again. I told you you were a worthless little whore.”

“Gris, you have to get out of here right now. If you don’t, I’ll call the cops.”

“Oh, you’ll call the cops. Maybe I’ve spoken to them myself already. Maybe they called
me,
to tell me you were here. You forget, that piece of shit car you drive is in my name.”

“You can take it back, Gris. You can keep the car.”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch. I didn’t come here for the car. I came here for you. You’re coming home with me, where you belong, and you’re never going to run off like this again.”

“I’m not going back with you Gris, not now, not ever.”

Elle didn’t know what to do, what to think. She was terrified. She’d lived for three years under Gris’s abusive thumb, and she was only just beginning to come to terms with the fact that she might have gotten free of him.

“Come on, get in my car. Your holiday’s over.”

Elle looked at him. She looked into the cold, hard face of the man she’d given everything to for so long.

“No,” she said.

“No?”

Elle shook with every violent word from Gris.

Then she heard Grace’s voice, and suddenly remembered that she was no longer alone. She had friends now. They might not be able to protect her from someone like Gris forever, but they stood with her, and they had her back.

“That’s right, fuck head,” Grace said. “The lady said, no. Now get out of here before I blow your fucking brains out.”

Elle turned and saw that Grace was pointing a hefty shotgun right at Gris’s face. Gris put his hands up in self-defense. “Oh, you stupid old hag. You’re going to pay for this. The sherif’s on my side. This girl took my car, smashed my other car. She’s mine. She’s my fucking property.”

Grace just looked at him, waited for him to finish his rant, and then cocked the shotgun menacingly.

Reluctantly, Gris backed out of the diner.

When he was gone, Elle realized just how terrified she’d been. She sat down on a stool at the counter and burst into tears. Her entire body quivered in fear.

“Oh my, God,” Kelly said. “That’s your ex?”

“That’s my ex,” Elle said.

“He’s even worse than Phil,” Kelly said.

Grace came over, threw her hands around Elle, and hugged her as tightly as Elle had ever been hugged by anyone.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Grace said. “Now I see why you’ve got such high walls around your heart. You listen to me. We’re going to keep you safe here, okay, sweetie. We’re going to keep you safe. We’re your family now.”

Chapter 19

Forrester

F
ORRESTER SAT IN THE DUSTY
lawyer’s office and tried not to think about any of the reasons he was there. Places like this made him nervous. His father’s death made him nervous. The will, well, he had no experience with wills, but he was pretty sure that if he thought about it too much, it would make him nervous too. His father had been a grade-A asshole. There was every chance that the old bastard had slipped some final insult into the will, and Forrester didn’t relish the prospect of finding out what it was.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Chapman, Forrester’s father’s attorney said. He took his seat behind his desk. His chair was large and soft, upholstered with polished leather. Forrester’s seat was a simpler thing, more like a dining room chair.

“You want some coffee, son?” Chapman said.

Forrester had noticed that everyone connected to the father’s death so far had referred to him as son, as if they were trying to make up for the shortcomings of the one man who should have called him that.

“No thanks,” Forrester said.

He didn’t mean to be short, he had nothing against Chapman, who for all intents and purposes seemed to be a perfectly fair-minded lawyer. He just didn’t want to draw out the reading of the old man’s will.

“All right then, I suppose we should get started.”

“Yes, let’s.”

Chapman pulled out a sheaf of documents that included old letters, legal papers, government forms, and of course, the will.

“I’ve read this will of course,” Chapman began. “In fact, I drafted it for your father and I can attest to the fact that he was of sound mind when he drew it up.”

“Good for him,” Forrester said.

“You should know that with your father’s property, his investments, and the sale of some annuities a few years back, he had a sizable estate. At last reckoning, it was valued at over half a million dollars. It would likely be a little higher now with the way property and stock prices have gone.”

“I don’t want it,” Forrester said.

Chapman paused. “Well,” he said, “the thing is, as the only living relative, your father left it all to you by default.”

“I just said I don’t want it.”

“I heard you,” Chapman said, “and naturally, I’d have to honor any wishes you had regarding the money, especially if you didn’t want it. There are rules in place for such eventualities. Plus, I’m sure there are a wealth of worthy causes we could think of together for making a donation.”

“I don’t care what you do with it,” Forrester said. “I don’t want it.”

“I’ll give you a little time to reflect,” Chapman said. “I understand this can be a very trying time.”

“Give me as long as you want. My answer won’t change.”

“Need I remind you that half a million dollars can make a big difference in the life of a man your age, son. You could start a family, a business.”

“Listen. I’ve got nothing against you. You seem like a good lawyer. But I’ve got a whole lot of resentment built up against the man that should have been my father. I don’t expect you to understand that, sir, but I’m telling you right now, I’d sooner die in a puddle of piss than take a dime from that old man.”

“I see,” Chapman said. “Well, on a personal note, I can tell you that I can fully respect a sentiment such as that. I represented your father in legal matters for a long time, but I’d never claim to stand by the things he did in his life. The way he treated you, and your poor mother.”

Forrester didn’t want to be rude, but he cut Chapman off in mid sentence. “Get rid of the money. Give it to a charity that looks out for women in my mother’s position. If you draw something up, I’ll sign it. Other than that, is there any reason we can’t end this meeting right here and now?”

“Well,” Chapman said, stalling for time while he thought of the words he wanted. “There is another little matter. A detail, if you will.”

“A detail?”

“Yes, a detail.”

“What is it?”

Chapman opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out an envelope. “This,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a letter.”

“From my father?”

“Yes, he wanted you to have it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“I have to pass it on to you.”

“I don’t want it,” Forrester said firmly.

“Just take it,” Chapman said, sliding it across his desk. “Don’t read it if you don’t want it. But I’m under an obligation to see that you receive it. I can’t release the funds to you, or to the charity of your choice, until I’ve delivered that letter.”

“I really don’t want it,” Forrester said, looking Chapman in the eye.

“You’d be making my life a whole lot easier, son, if you just took it. You have no idea of the paperwork involved with an unclaimed estate.”

Reluctantly, Forrester reached across the desk and grabbed the envelope. He crushed it into his pocket and stood up.

“And that’s it?” he said.

“That’s it for now,” Chapman said. “I’ll draw up the paperwork to give the estate to charity, as you’ve requested, and I’ll get everything ready for you.”

Forrester nodded and walked to the door. Before opening it he paused and turned back to the lawyer.

“Sorry to be such a pain. I know it’s not your fault. I just really didn’t see eye to eye with the old man.”

He opened the door and left before Chapman could say anything.

Chapman’s law office was on Main Street and Forrester left his truck where it was and walked toward the diner. As he crossed the street and entered the diner parking lot, he saw a heavily muscled guy with broad shoulders and dark stubble come out of the restaurant. He looked furious, and as he approached Forrester, he seemed to be squaring up for a fight.

“What are you looking at, dip shit?” the guy said.

Forrester looked him in the eye but said nothing. Life was too short to be getting in a fight with every lowlife that took it upon himself to try and cause trouble. He walked right past the guy, who watched him like a hawk. The guy was mad, and Forrester wondered why. He looked around and saw no one. The man had just been in the diner. Something must have happened in there. All he could think about was Elle.

“Hey,” the guy said. “I’m talking to you, fuck head.”

Forrester sighed. He stopped walking and turned back to the guy.

“You from this town?” Forrester said.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I’m not,” the guy said.

“But you came into this diner to cause trouble?”

“I cause trouble wherever the fuck I want.”

Forrester took a step toward him. The guy sized him up and immediately did the math. He took a step backward. Forrester had the look of a fighter, and the guy wanted no part of it.

“Not in this diner you don’t,” Forrester said. “I see you in here looking for trouble again, and you won’t walk out. You’ll leave on a stretcher.”

Forrester wasn’t in the mood for talking to the guy, and he wasn’t in the mood for wasting time. He turned his back on him without waiting for a reply, and stepped into the diner.

Chapter 20

Elle

E
LLE WAS IN THE KITCHEN
composing herself when Kelly rushed in.

“He’s here. Elle, he’s here.”

Elle felt faint. “What? Gris? He’s back?”

“No silly, not him. Forrester.”

Her stomach did a flip. “Oh my God. Forrester’s here?”

“He came back for you, Elle.”

Elle took a deep breath. That was exactly the thought she was having too. She’d given Forrester the chance to escape. She’d given him an out. But he was back.

She straightened her dress and pushed her hair back behind her ears.

“How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” Gracie said unceremoniously. “Now go get this guy before that other guy steals you away from us.”

Elle laughed. Her life in Stone Peak had become awfully complicated in a very short time. People would be talking. It was so unlike her. She spent her life trying to avoid drama. But with Gris around, it was hard to stay on the right side of things. He had a way of messing things up.

She went out into the restaurant and prayed she looked okay. Gris had rattled her, but she didn’t have to let it show.

“Forrester,” she said.

“Elle,” he said.

He was sitting at the counter and he looked even better than she remembered. She felt weak at the knees as the memory flooded back of what he’d done to her. She couldn’t believe she’d been in his bed. He was like something out of a movie, sculpted and muscular, sure of himself, confident.

“What are you doing here?” she said, stupidly. It was obvious that anyone in a diner at that time of morning was there for one thing, breakfast.

She felt a flood of surprise at his answer.

“I’m here for you, silly.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. Of course, you. You don’t spend a night like we just did, and then escape me that easily.”

Elle blushed. She knew Kelly and Grace were listening to every word.

“I thought maybe you’d have had enough of me.”

“Is that why you left?”

She nodded. She felt silly now that he was sitting right in front of her, but when she’d been in the hotel room, the thought that he might not want her had been very real.

Forrester patted the stool next to his. “Have a seat,” he said. “I need to say something to you.”

The diner was dead. She could take a break. Cautiously, she sat down next to him, wondering what he’d need to say to her at this point in their relationship. Had she screwed up already?

“You don’t have to play things cool with me, Elle. You don’t have to keep your guard up.”

“I’m not keeping my guard up.”

“Listen,” Forrester said, and he was speaking very earnestly. He put his hand on Elle’s leg and she felt electricity flow through her at his touch. She wanted his hand to slide up under her skirt and caress her.

“I’m listening,” she said.

He looked into her eyes. “I get it,” he said. “I get wanting to protect yourself. Believe me.”

And it was true. Elle didn’t know it but at that very moment, Forrester’s other hand was in his pocket, touching the envelope that contained the letter from his father. Forrester hadn’t decided it yet, but even as he spoke to Elle about needing to protect herself, he’d already decided that he wasn’t going to open the envelope. He wasn’t going to read the letter. It could potentially say something that might heal the wounds he’d suffered as a child, but it could equally say something that might break his heart, and that wasn’t a risk he could take. So he knew what he was saying to Elle when he spoke of protecting herself. Innately he understood her, and he meant every word of what he was saying.

“I know what it’s like to be let down,” he said. “I know what it’s like to be so hurt that you think your entire heart is going to just disappear, blink out, like a broken lightbulb. I know that pain, Elle. I know that fear. But I’m telling you now, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to let you down. So you don’t have to keep me at a distance.”