Page 133 of The Way We Score

Rhonda’s the notary public at the municipal complex, which houses the clerk of court as well as the sheriff’s office. She’s a few years younger than me, moved here from Georgia to live on the water like everybody else, but she’s good people.

I’ve been on a low simmer since that dick Warner showedup at Cooters & Shooters running his big mouth. He made my lady cry and my baby barf. I scan the road as we get closer to his address, looking for a dumpster just in case.

Liv’s eyes were so weary last night. Holding her in my arms, I kissed her head as she slipped into a fitful sleep, and it took all my strength to promise I wouldn’t come down here and kick this smug dipshit’s ass. Having my brother here will help me staynice.

I hope.

Following the main boulevard, I take a right on River Road, which leads all the way to the point. We turn left onto Key Drive and park in front of a large, white home with sea-green trim and a screened-in, wrap-around porch.

“It’s more modest than I expected.” Zane’s low voice is calm as he steps out of the truck. “Isn’t this guy supposed to be some kind of gazillionaire?”

“Something like that.” My jaw is set, and I close the door, climbing the wide steps leading to the front door.

Rhonda is behind me, and Zane stands to the side in his flannel shirt over a navy tee. I picked him up at the stables, so he’s in his work boots and baseball cap turned backwards. He crosses his arms, and while he’s not quite as tall as I am, with those cool blue eyes and dark hair, he has his own imposing presence.

Knocking on the door, I put my hands on my hips, turning to my brother and Rhonda, carrying the papers and her notary supplies in a messenger bag. She’s wearing jeans and a waist-length pink blazer, and she looks like a petite professional standing beside us.

The door opens, and it’s the man himself. Warner Oberon in light blue shorts and a pink polo. I didn’t think I could hate this guy more.

“Oh, hello.” He has the decency to look startled, taking a step back. “I wasn’t expecting… How did you get through the gates?”

“Cut the crap, Oberon.” I put my hand on the door, openingit wider and pushing him back so we can enter. “What do you want? You can’t be after money.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why are you here bothering Liv?” I repeat.

“I want my family.”

My fist tightens. “Then go make your own. Liv and the baby are mine.”

“That’s what you say.”

Zane steps to me quickly, catching my forearm before I punch this guy in the nose. “I think Liv would agree with us.” His tone is level, and Warner’s eyes flicker to him. “We have the divorce papers that state you were unfaithful to your wife, and you share no children.”

“Who are you, a lawyer?” Warner jerks his chin, and I don’t like the way he curls his nose at my brother.

“Zane Bradford.” Zane extends his hand. “I’m Garrett’s brother, and I’ve known Liv a long time.”

Warner’s jaw clenches, and he nods. “Then you know she’s high-spirited and flighty. You can’t believe a word she says. She was a dancer, after all.”

“I’ve only ever known Liv to be very thoughtful about her decisions.” Zane’s tone doesn’t change. “Except for perhaps one, and even then, she owned it.”

“The one where she ran off with my baby to come down here and marry this guy? We’re not even divorced!”

I can’t take much more of this. “Dude, are you cracked? Liv filed for divorce before she even came here—and she came to take care of her mom. I was in New York.”

“Exactly, which means it can’t be your baby.”

Huffing air through my lips, I turn to Zane. “I’m doing my best here…”

“She humiliated me in front of our friends.” He walks to the end table and pours a tumbler of clear liquid.

“She humiliatedyou?” My tone sharpens.

“We were married in front of a large group of witnesses. Half of them don’t even know we’re separated.”

“Do they know you were fucking around on her?” Heat rises in my tone. It burns in my chest. “Do they know she hasn’t let you touch her in over a year?”

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