Page 65 of Rushing Into Love

A rush of relief washed over me. Shayna was at bay again; Charlie, Bree, and my family would all be safe.

“Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, Ryder. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

As soon as I hung up with my lawyer, I texted Bree the good news:

New restraining order in place. Appeal denied.

Bree: Fantastic news! So we’re good?

Ryder: Better off now than before, that’s for sure

Bree: That’s a relief. So can we resume our lunchtime specials?

Ryder: You got it. Also do you want to go to Halloween party with me? My buddy Eric throws epic costume party every year

Bree: Sure, sounds fun. What kind of costumes are we talking?

Ryder: Elaborate. Only rule is costume must have a mask. There’s a prize for best costume and it’s only fair if people don’t know who’s who

Bree: Ok, I’ll get to work on costume ideas. When’s party?

Ryder: Saturday

Bree: Saturday? As in, this Saturday? Like, two days from now?

Ryder: Yep. Is that a problem?

Bree: Yes! That’s quick! But I’ll make it happen. Ttys

Ryder: Ok, I’ll pick you up at 7. See you tmrw at the game

Bree: Maybe. Might have to stay home and work on costume

Ryder: That’d be a bummer

Bree: J/k. I wouldn’t miss the game for the world. See you tmrw. Xoxoxo

Ryder: See you tmrw.

So we were on for the party. Now I just needed to win a playoff game and scrape together a costume in the next forty-eight hours. No problem. If I could shut Shayna down, I could do anything I put my mind to.

* * *

Friday night wasclear and cold, the coldest night we’d had since last winter. I helped Charlie get dressed in layers: long sleeve shirt under jersey, running tights, long socks, a sweatshirt for the sidelines.

“I’ve got your mouthguard, bud. You ready for the game?” I buckled him into the car.

“Yep. The Rams are going down!” He hit his fist into the palm of his hand and grinned at me.

“Hope so. Just play your best, kiddo, and have fun. That’s what matters.”

“Are Gigi, Pops, and Uncle Quinn coming to the game?” he asked, kicking his feet in the backseat.

“They’ll be there. I have to get to the field a little earlier, though, figure out where we’re supposed to go,” I said, making the left-hand turn into the lot. “Grab your sweatshirt, bud. It’s gonna get cold.”

I grabbed my roster and equipment bag before taking Charlie’s hand, leading him across the field to the registration booth.

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