Page 68 of Worth the Try
She laughs. “Everything is fine. Thought you’d want an update on your father.”
My grip on the steering wheel loosens. “How is the old man?”
“Furious if he heard you call him that—despite falling off a ladder and needing the surgery that kept us from keeping that sweet grandbaby of ours,” shetsks.
“It’s…all worked out,” I say, eyeing the cars in my rearview mirror far more closely than usual.
“Oh?” Her voice rises with interest. “How, exactly, have they worked out?”
I can practically see the heart eyes she’s probably making. “Ease up, Mom.” Even though I, too, have heart eyes at this point. But I shake the thought off, knowing it’s too soon.
“Fine, fine,” she relents. “Your father is being an old coot, and I told him I’d call you and tell on him.”
I laugh, grateful that she’s shifted back to the original topic of conversation. “What’s he done this time? You know I told you to call me if you need me.”
“Ansel, you’re four hours away—” she starts.
“I’d be a lot closer if you’d move here and let me take care of you.”
“First of all, young man, we don’t needtaking care of. And secondly, we planned to move here for our retirement. You knew that. And finally,” she says, her voice softening, “we really, truly don’t need you worrying about us. You have too much on your plate as it is.”
“I’m your only son,” I remind her. “It’s my job to worry about you.”
She chuckles. “No, Ansel, it’s not. And the day I manage to convince you of that may well be the happiest day of my life. Well,” she hedges, “second to giving me a daughter-in-law.”
I groan. “I’m ignoring that.”
We talk all the way home, and it almost works: a sense of calm has nearly settled over me.
Until I get out of my Land Rover and see a woman exiting a car parked across the street. She’s in jeans and some kind of strapless shirt, and looks exactly the same as the night we slept together.
Lauren’s here.
Chapter 23
Ansel
I’M SLAMMING THE door and crossing the street before I even register what I’m doing.
“What thefuckare you doing here?” I demand, coming to a halt far too close to her.
“Careful, Ansel,” she warns with an arch of a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “You never know who might be watching.”
“Exactly what do you mean by that?” I growl.
She shrinks away from me for the briefest of seconds before straightening to her full height and staring cooly at me. “I want to see my daughter,” she says, crossing her arms and looking me up and down as if I’m trash. Nothing is out of place on her. Hair, nails, the whole thing. Looking at her now, the effort at perfection makes my lip curl.
“Mydaughter,” I correct her with a snarl. “She ismydaughter. You lost the right to call her anything the moment you left her on my doorstep.”
“She is mine as much as she is yours,” Lauren shoots back.
“Wrong.” I cross my arms. “You need to leave. Leave and never come back. We don’t need you here.”
“And why’s that? Because you’ve got your fancy captain title and you’re making big money with all your sponsorship deals?Because trust me, I’m well aware of them. Oh, wait.” She pretends as if something has just occurred to her. “It’s because you’re fucking the nanny.”
A wave of anger flashes through me and I see red, but I keep my clenched fists at my side. I’d never hit a woman,ever,but Lauren is pushing every button I have. “Say one more word about her,” I seethe, “and you will regret it for the rest of your life.”
Lauren has the sense to take half a step back, but she’s not done. “I have tried to be nice. To do this the right way. But I want to see her.”
