“Mommy uses it. And this is the store we usually shop at.”
Wyatt typed in bread crumbs, and a little green arrow showed up halfway down an aisle three rows away.
“See?” she said, grinning.
“Damn, that’s impressive, monkey.”
She tapped the image on his phone with her finger, counting, “One, two, three. I’ll beat you there.”
Then she ran ahead and disappeared down an aisle. Wyatt didn’t like having her out of his sight, so he picked up his pace and followed. Midway down, Belle was dancing with containers of bread crumbs in both hands.
Wyatt sighed. He had one hell of a learning curve in his future. One that seemed like it went straight up for the next thirteen years.
God, thirteen years until she was an adult? That hit him like a mule kick and stole all Wyatt’s air. How in holy hell was he going to do this?
Three women wandered up the aisle the opposite direction. He immediately pegged them as tourists. Early to midtwenties, wearing short-shorts, revealing blouses, and cowgirl boots. Wyatt instinctively ducked his head and diligently studied his phone.
They giggled and chatted to each other as he passed. He almost got away. Almost.
“Oh my God, you guys,” one woman said in a hushed but high-pitched voice that made Wyatt cringe. “I think that’s Wyatt Jackson.”
A flurry of quiet chatter followed, then the click of heels sounded behind him, followed by an overly sweet “Excuse me.”
Damn. Wyatt exhaled and force a smile to face the woman. All three of them grew giddy, their gazes glittering with their find.
Wyatt kept one eye on Belle as he signed autographs for the women and, of course, they asked for selfies. By the time he’d moved on, Belle stood with a container of bread crumbs, a cocked hip, and an irritable expression.
“We’ve got bread crumbs,” he said, taking them from Belle and tossing them into the cart before glancing at the recipe. “How about steak?”
He was about to type in steak when his phone rang and his manager’s name showed up on the display.
He gestured for Belle to wait and answered the phone. “Aaron, can you hold on a sec?”
“Sure.”
Wyatt typed in steak, showed the image to Belle, who counted aisles and took off.
He followed, speaking into the phone. “I’m at the grocery store with Belle, so we should probably talk fast now and in depth later.”
When Wyatt explained what had happened with Francie and Belle, his manager went silent for a long moment.
“Whoa,” Aaron said. “That’s…heavy.”
Somehow, this mess didn’t seem to fit into that tidy box for Wyatt. “My parents get home in a little over two weeks. They aren’t equipped to care for her, but I don’t feel like I can figure this out on my own. Once I see them, I’ll have a better idea of how I’m going to handle this. I’m caught up in the middle of things with Belle. Can you call the guys and let them know? I’ll call them later tonight to talk things out.”
More tourists spotted him, and Wyatt signed autographs while Belle waited in the spice aisle, arms crossed, a determined frown on her face, and Aaron talked schedule logistics. All Wyatt’s synapses were firing at once, and his brain quickly shorted out. He’d never felt so inept or overwhelmed by anything in his life.
“We’ve got a full schedule for the next six months,” Aaron said, his voice revealing concern. “We’re getting bookings for next year already. You know how canceling looks. You know—”
“Yes. I know.” He slowed the cart at the butcher counter, where Belle spoke with a man dressed in a red-smeared white apron.
“We’re making chicken fried steak,” she told the man.
He pointed to a row of prepackaged meat. “You’re going to want tenderized cube steak for that.”
Belle thanked the man, Wyatt chose a few steaks, and they moved on to the next item on the recipe.
“You’re going to need a nanny,” Aaron said.
“I haven’t even thought that far ahead.”
“They have firms that specialize in finding nannies for celebrities. I’ll check into a few and get back to you with their information.”
He added “find a nanny” to his mental, infinite to-do list. “Okay.”
“Some artists take their young kids on the road with them,” Aaron said. “If you want to go that direction, we can find you a nanny-slash-tutor to travel with you. A lot of kids are homeschooled nowadays.”
Homeschooled?
Wyatt stopped the cart in front of the floor-to-ceiling spice rack. “Hold on.”
He toggled to the recipe, plucked spices from the rack, and handed them to Belle, who tossed them in the cart. Then he found grits on the app and sent Belle on the hunt.
“Sorry,” he said to Aaron. “I hadn’t even considered taking her. That seems like a daunting proposition.”
“There are some really cool learning opportunities for kids on the road, but it would also be harder on you.”
“This is a lot to take in right now.” He stopped in front of the grits, glanced between the two boxes in Belle’s hands, chose one. “Can you just write down your ideas and let me know what my options are? Once I get my head around this, I’ll be able to make some decisions.”
He disconnected with an intense need for a drink. Wyatt typed beer into the app, and when Belle looked at the phone, she swiped it from his hand to carry with her.
He found himself staring into the alcoholic beverage cooler with white-out conditions in his head. Making one more decision, even if it was as minor as what beer to choose, felt too hard.
Then his gaze paused on Gypsy’s favorite IPA, making this his easiest decision of the day. He grabbed two six-packs and looked at Belle, who had his phone. “Please tell me we’re done.”
She gave a shrug and handed him back the phone. “All I know is I still have to spend my ten bucks.”
10
Gypsy wasn’t used to this unsettled sensation. On her drive between the bar and her house, she’d successfully tied her stomach in knots thinking about Wyatt. Specifically, how impressed she’d been with the way he was taking on this situation. It had given her a really deep look into a man she’d been infatuated with for a long time.
There had always been the hint of someone deeper underneath his celebrity façade, but today, she’d seen the real man. Knowing that made it extra hard to push him into the same category as other celebrities, or even other men, and without that logical reason to keep her walls up around him, Gypsy experienced an even deeper desire. She started wondering things like how he’d fit into her life. How giving him a chance might look.
Then she got real. She thought about his travel and his time on the road. She knew all too well how his life away from Nashville played out. Gypsy had been there, done that, and she had the kid to prove it.
No way would she go willingly into that situation again.
Gypsy pulled onto the property with a sigh of relief. Another day down. She had the bar adequately staffed tonight, so she could spend some much-needed time with Cooper. At least until he fell asleep; then she’d get around to the mountains of busy work the bar created—marketing, social media, event planning, entertainment scheduling, and bills. So many bills.