Page 224 of Perfect Pitch

“Go. I’ll be there as soon as I can be.”

I grab her chin and say, “Not without protection.”

She rolls her eyes but vows, “I’ll have Chin drive me.”

Dropping a quick kiss on her lips, I stride from the room. Not long after, I’m out the door ready to protect the people I’ve grown to care for more deeply than I ever expected.

They’re Austyn’s family and, god willing, one day they’ll be mine.

* * *

I take the time as we approach Rockefeller Center to remind Paige by saying, “Don’t address the reporters. If you feel compelled to say anything, ‘No comment’ works best. Let Carys make a statement on both of your behalf.”

Paige doesn’t reply and Beckett doesn’t need to. If it were any other morning, if Paige wasn’t clutching Beckett’s hand so hard, his fingers were turning white under the strain, I’d never know anything was wrong.

Beckett is a seething cauldron waiting to boil over at the slightest provocation. I warn him as well, “Just get inside as fast as you can.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo,” Beckett barks.

Despite the gravity of the situation, my lips twitch.

We’re getting closer to Rockefeller Center when I spy the gaggle of reporters and cameras outside of the building that hosts the LLF LLC law. “I wonder if I’ll receive noise from my former colleagues on the force if I run over some of the paparazzi.”

“You won’t hear any objections from me!” Beckett snaps.

I pull to the curb. Watching in the rearview, I’m just about to warn Beckett one final time to wait for me to come around when Beckett lifts his lips from Paige’s and flings the door open. I mutter, “Fuck, you just couldn’t wait five seconds?”

Then I throw my door open and am blinded by flashes. “Christ, what a damn mess.”

“Sir, can you tell us your name?” is shouted by one reporter.

“No comment,” I bellow as I make my way to where Beckett is surrounding Paige protectively.

“What do you know about Beckett’s love child?” comes from another.

More than any of you ever will. The words lie on the tip of my tongue. But someone else has better ones.

Austyn’s mother.

Everyone’s shouting questions and over and over on repeat. “Did you know Beckett got some poor girl pregnant years ago?”

I shove my way past intrepid reporters in time to hear her address them, one and all, with a statement that makes me wonder if she’s considered what she might say in the event she’s ever asked the question.

“It is none of your business if my adult daughter now feels such a deep abiding affection for him after not having a father her entire life that she chooses to call him ‘Dad.’‍

“He’ll help her continue to grow as an independent woman, helping her stand up again after she makes her own mistakes. He’ll be there to celebrate her joys—which we both hope there will be many. He’s going to despise every man she dates because they will never be good enough. And, God willing, she will ask him to walk her down the aisle one day. Hold her children. And why? Even if she wasn’t his, he’d do it because she’s mine. He didn’t need a reason beyond that. And frankly, you don’t need one at all. But there. Now you have it. So, may the father of my child and I please pass?”

Concluding Paige’s diatribe, Beckett takes her hand and drags her through the throng of paparazzi to the doors. I’m fast on their heels, in complete awe of the woman who, I pray, someday will be my mother-in-law.

Just as we reach the elevator, Beckett jerks his chin up, indicating he wants a few moments alone with Paige, which is fine. I need to call Austyn. Slipping my phone out of my suit jacket, I press her number and it hardly rings once when she shrieks, “We’re on our way! Oh my goodness, Mitch!”

“Tell Chin to drive into the underground garage,” I inform her. After she relays the message, I let out a whoosh of air when she proclaims proudly, “Mama was remarkable.”

“Yeah, she was.” Not as remarkable as you.

I think I keep the words inside, but Austyn’s whispered, “Mitch,” tells me I let them slip out. With a rueful smile, I get ready for her arrival. “I’m heading upstairs to guard your parents.”

“See you in about five. And Mitch?”

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