But he could do better than viral.
Viral with a purpose.
A plan solidified in his mind—a plan worthy of Libby.
“Do we know where she’ll be tomorrow?”
“She’s meeting her dad,” Rowen replied. “But she’s totally off the grid. Penny says her phone is off.”
Raz nodded, thinking of the saying on the bus. That was the answer.
“Do you know where and when she’s meeting her father?”
“A petting zoo. They’re meeting at two.”
Raz came to his feet and paced as he worked out the logistics in his head. Libby mentioned her family used to visit a petting zoo in Denver when her mom was still with them. It had to be that one.
Briggs cleared his throat. “Champ, you’ve got a fight tomorrow night.”
“I can’t think about that now, Briggsy,” he said, patting the man’s shoulder. “I’ve got an idea. But for this to work, I’ll need everyone to pitch in. We’ll need to work every connection we’ve got.”
“Hello, beefcake!” Mitch bellowed. “Your famous connected friends are standing right here.”
“Brilliant! And music,” Raz added.
“Like for the Chicken Dance, Dad? We didn’t get to do it at my party.”
“That might work, lad. Does anyone have a connection in the music world?” he asked, sizing up the group.
Landon huffed. “Raz, dude?”
“Right, right! And could you also sign a couple of T-shirts for my sisters?”
“Erasmus!” Callista and Calliope shrieked in unison, turning as red as a pair of tomatoes.
“What? I remembered you fighting over a Landon Paige T-shirt after I’d gone all Zen.”
“I can do both,” Landon answered, a blush kissing his heartthrob cheeks. No wonder the chicks went crazy for him. He shook his head. “Enough of bloody that! Aug?” he said, turning to his trainer, the man who’d been like a father to him since he was a lanky fourteen-year-old with a chip on his shoulder. “Are you okay with me doing something a little crazy? Maybe a lot crazy?”
“I’m always on your side, lad.”
“That makes the two of us,” his granny added when a pair of policemen, one tall and one short, sauntered over.
“Mr. Cress, do you remember us?”
Raz’s jaw dropped. Bloody hell! It was the cops who arrested them the night Libby’s deranged chi made her attack him with vibrators. “Yeah, George and Joey, right? What are you chaps doing here?”
“Keeping the peace before the fight and wrangling the media,” Joey answered, gesturing with his chin toward where they’d kept the cameramen at bay.
“We don’t mean to be rude, but are you talking about Libby Lamb?”
“Yeah, I am. I love her.” He grinned. Bloody hell, he liked saying that out loud.
“We had a feeling you two would end up together,” Joey replied, sharing a look with George.
“We’re not together yet. I screwed up, but I’m going to get her back.” He scanned the group. “For the record, that’s my intention. I’m putting it to the universe. It’s not me acting like a cocky…” he glanced at Sebastian and tapped his foot twice.
“Beefcake!” the boy exclaimed.
“I wish that’s what Phoebe meant when she tapped at me,” Rowen muttered.
“If you need any help from the city’s cops, we’re here for you. The whole department appreciates you competing in the Ass-in-nine for us. Honestly, none of us wanted to do it.”
Excellent! It was never bad to have local law enforcement on your side!
It was coming together.
The light shining in through the windows shimmered a perfect shade of indigo.
Their color.
Their strength.
This was his path—a path lined with Meredith’s blessing.
“What do we do now, Dad?”
He turned to Rowen. “Libby’s off the grid, right? The only thing she’s doing tomorrow is meeting up with her dad?”
“As far as I know,” Rowen answered.
This is it. Everything had led him to this point.
Wham, Bam, lookout, Libby Lamb, the beefcake’s coming!
Excitement laced with pure adrenaline coursed through his veins.
He surveyed his friends and family. “Alert the International Space Station, and let’s get out a press release, Briggsy.”
“And what should it say, champ?”
He grinned and held his son’s gaze. “Erasmus Cress will be fighting tomorrow—fighting for the woman he loves.”
Thirty-Five
Libby
Libby strolled down the path as four little girls zoomed past her, their pigtails swishing from side to side as they skipped along. The girls couldn’t be much older than five or six, and their little voices popped and fizzed as they giggled and tittered, headed toward a pen of black and white goats. A little redhead, a blonde, and the third girl with chestnut-brown curls stopped at the gate, waiting for their friend, a curious child with raven-colored locks, who’d stopped shy of the pen to watch a butterfly flit across the path.
“I can’t wait to pet the goats,” the little blond girl exclaimed.
“Me too,” called the redhead.
“Me too,” echoed the girl with jet-black hair, waving goodbye to the butterfly to catch up to her friends.
The child with chestnut curls huffed. “My feet hurt, and the goat better not eat my sock again. Stupid hungry goat!”
Libby chuckled. That’s what she and her girls must have looked like years ago when they’d come here to visit the Denver Petting Zoo. She gave the little girls one last look before continuing down the path toward a quieter section. The back half of the petting zoo included a small pasture and served as the home for rescued ponies, mules, and donkeys. Unlike the goats, sheep, and chickens, where children were encouraged to wander inside the pens and interact with the animals, these larger residents were for observation only. A few towering oaks provided a leafy blanket of shade over their secluded patch of land, and the animals milled around in the sun-dappled light.
She rested her elbows on the fence and watched a pair of donkeys nuzzle one another. Plum and Beefcake had the same ritual before they’d settled in next to each other at night as the insects and frogs peppered the mountain air with their calls.
How could so much life have been packed into the last sixty days?
If someone had told her that the last several weeks had been a dream, she would have been hard-pressed to disagree. And, truth be told, the last forty-eight hours hadn’t let up either.
She’d met with Ida.
She’d agreed to partner with Cleo and Laney.
And she’d texted her father and asked him to meet her here. He’d responded immediately, the dots rippling across her screen seconds after she’d hit send. He’d answered with one word.
Yes.
He didn’t usually respond so quickly—or at all. But at that moment, when she’d felt her mother’s presence so acutely, she’d listened to a voice whispered on the wind, and she’d taken a chance.
She was done shielding her heart.