The bell on the door rings when I walk through, and her gaze shoots up to meet mine. Her smile from a second ago turns to a scowl. Her hair is up in a ponytail, exposing one of my favorite body parts of her body. Did she do that on purpose to torment me? But I shake it off. Sedona doesn’t play like that.
She turns her attention out the window and the scorned feeling inside me knows I don’t deserve her full attention. I’m not worthy of those brown eyes scanning my body the way they used to—like she couldn’t get enough of me. She never gave me hell about my workout regimen and would praise my abs, biceps, and how strong my thighs were. I’m still fit, but I don’t work out like a professional athlete anymore.
I slide into the booth and she rests her hands on her swollen tummy, forcing her gaze back my way.
“Good mornin’,” I say.
“Morning.”
“You look beautiful.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t.”
“What? I can’t be honest?”
An annoyed breath falls from her lips. “Let’s just get this over with. What do you want?”
“Want?” My forehead creases.
“I have all the money you’ve sent.” She pulls out a check from her purse and slides it over to me.
A big burly guy comes over. A different one than Sedona was talking to before. “What will it be for you two?”
“Just hot water and honey, thanks. I have my own tea bag.”
“And you?” he asks me.
I eye his name tag. Tad. Interesting. “Coffee and an egg white omelet with peppers and mushrooms.” I put the menu I never looked at back behind the salt and pepper shakers.
He taps the tip of his pen on the notepad and smiles. “Be up soon.”
Once he walks away, I stare at the check and calculate the math. Sure enough, it tallies to almost the same amount I’ve paid her since our daughter was born. I push the check back toward her. “I don’t want the money back. That’s for you and her.”
“I didn’t spend a dime of it. I put it in an account for Pa—her.” She almost told me our precious little girl’s name.
“What’s her name?”
She tilts her head and tortures me for another second, looking conflicted. “Palmer.”
I nod.
She scowls. “What? You don’t like it?”
I raise my hands. “I like it.”
“Well, I couldn’t very well wait until her father decided to show up so he could have a say.”
Our eyes lock, and all that animosity alive and growing inside her reflects back at me. I realize how right Merrick was—I should be praying for a damn miracle, because Sedona will never take me back.
Three
Sedona
The owner brings us our drinks and I use the interruption to study Jamison further. The only logical explanation for me finding Jamison so damn attractive is that I’m pregnant and overflowing with hormones. It’s certainly not normal to want to nail someone on a diner table during the breakfast rush when you hate said person. And hate is a polite way of labeling my feelings for Jamison.
He’s not as cut as he was when we were together, but he’s still fit. The athletic body he loved to show off could be hiding under his jeans and long-sleeve Henley, but you didn’t need X-ray vision back in the day to know he had a body of steel.
“I love her name. And I’d never expect you to wait.”
I nod, sipping my tea. I told myself I would be an adult about this.
“Are you playing?” I ask to steer the conversation away from Palmer.
He shakes his head with a disappointed glint in his eye. “I guess you don’t follow me anymore.” He stares at his coffee, then glances up.
I ignore the pull to tell him I know everything the tabloids have said about him. Everything from his rock bottom to rehab to a halfway house. I chased down every rumor that he was dating someone. Hell, I’ve probably kept better track of him than the FBI could.
“My career is over.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and he nods.
I remember when I heard the news that he wouldn’t be coming back from his injury. I thought maybe things could’ve changed, but I guess not. His dream shattered only a few years after he started really playing. It’s so unfair. He shrugs it off, but I watched him chase his dream, saw what he put into making it happen, how hard he worked. Enough to know that inside, it must be killing him, festering and eating him alive.
“What’s your plan now?” I ask.
He brings his coffee to his lips. “Not sure. Coaching maybe? But I’m really only concerned about getting you to forgive me right now.”
Those blue eyes of his lock with mine, and I tear my gaze away before I accept his apology too quickly. It’s not like he’s apologizing for stepping on my toe or forgetting to call. Grab that backbone, Sedona. Phoenix would never let him get away with this, but then again, I’ve never been like my sister that way.
“I’m not available.”
He eyes my stomach once more as a sour look crosses his face. “I figured as much. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t go there with you ever again, regardless. Now, if you want to talk Palmer, we can work something out. But me and you are off the table.” I waggle my finger back and forth between us.
He leans across the table. “I want to see her. I want to be a part of her life.”
I lean back as far as I can in the booth, but my stomach hits the edge of the table. The waiter comes by and slides one plate my way and another in front of Jamison.
“I brought you a muffin and fruit. On the house,” the waiter says to me. “I couldn’t bear having a pregnant mama in here not eating. No offense.”
“Thank you, but we’ll happily pay for it,” I say before I realize I said we. He smiles and walks away, but I stop him before he gets too far. “I mean I. I will pay for it.”
The waiter glances back at Jamison, then back at me, placing his hand over mine. “On the house. No arguing with the owner.” He points.
Sure enough, there’s a sign nailed to the wall that says exactly that.
I nod. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
By the time I turn around, Jamison is almost half done with his omelet. “You always did have yer admirers,” he says between swallows.
“That felt like a dig.”
“Just a fact,” he says, mumbling over his mouth full of food.
“And I wasn’t the one with the admirers.”
He holds my gaze for longer than is comfortable. “I never cheated on you.”
I nod. That’s not what today is supposed to be about, so I deter the conversation from anything to do with our shared past. “I have some stipulations before I let you meet Palmer.”
He pushes away his now empty plate, sips his coffee, wipes his mouth, and grants me his undivided attention. “Non-negotiable?”
“Kind of, yes. This isn’t a pet we’re sharing. She’s a little girl with feelings and a heart that I don’t want broken.”
He nods. “I’m well aware of that.”