Page 79 of Rumor Has It

“Rhi, I—”

“Nope. Nope! We’re not discussing Jordy… Just… Don’t squander a second chance, okay? Not all of us get one.”

Chapter Thirty-one

CASSIDY

Travel-weary, Isaiah lies on his bed yawning. The palm of his right hand on the baby’s back rises and falls with Aria’s breathing.

“You had a good time?” I’ve questioned him a hundred times.

“I did. I really did. I missed this, though, and couldn’t wait to get back.” The added sentiment sounds as if he’d been in North Carolina more than an overnight.

I noticed Isaiah’s absence more than the baby had. Although since he returned, Aria has refused to let Isaiah put her down. Hours later, she’s finally sleeping, and the fact that we’re getting some quiet time together isn’t lost on either of us. We’re both quite content, lying here whispering, stealing kisses, and recalling bits and pieces of what’s gone on while we were apart.

I missed this, too. So much so that watching it come to an end feels like I’m cutting off my arm.

For the better part of the past three months, Isaiah has tried to keep multiple balls in the air. If he’s not focused on the tour, he’s given either Aria or me his full attention. During our nightly walks, he talks to me about how humbling his experiences over the holidays were when he realized he wasn’t fully present for this little girl.

Isaiah takes caring for Aria seriously. I think he’s connected with her, though oftentimes he is still trying to figure out his place in her life long term. The truth of the matter is, Aria will be nine months old soon. Isaiah may be the only father she’ll ever have.

He doesn’t utter a negative word against Aria’s mother in the baby’s presence. He rarely shares the pain of his wife’s betrayal in mine without holding himself accountable for his own misdeeds, and feeling like the part he played enabled her.

Isaiah is the most honest of any man I’ve been involved with. He wouldn’t act this way if he hadn’t loved Kylie in his own way. And he wears his love for her daughter on his shirtsleeve.

Given how content Isaiah was to hold Aria when his plane landed, and how hard it was for him to put her into her crib when she sobbed, overtired and clinging to his shirt, I don’t know how he’ll manage the tour without her.

When Isaiah took the chance to tell me about Aria, he opened up a floodgate of his hopes and fears. I’ve thought a lot about my own fears since Rhiannon accused me of not being able to understand Isaiah might love me. Perhaps at Christmastime I hadn’t wanted to talk about Isaiah leaving because my heart already knew it hadn’t wanted to be without him.

And maybe that’s why I went out on a limb when he stayed.

I’ve been using Isaiah’s opposite bicep as a pillow and sit up to hand him a square box I placed at the foot of the bed when we entered his suite.

“I bought these while you were away.”

Remaining prone, Isaiah accepts the gift. Over the top of the sleeping baby, he dexterously unwraps and unboxes pink noise canceling earphones. Chuckling, he attempts to put them over his ears.

“These might be a little small. Do you mind if I re-gift them to Aria?” He winks, knowing who the child size earphones are for.

I wink back. A pair of wings beat inside my chest. I’m curious if our gift-giving rituals are as peculiar as a celebrity getting involved with a cook is.

“I thought she might need them on the road,” I say.

“Thank you. I love them on her behalf.” He places them down on his bed.

I lie back down, rubbing my palm on his pec. Before I nestle in, he tips my chin, brushing his lips against mine.

We’ve kissed and gotten to second base downstairs. That’s hardly noteworthy considering what we did naked as jaybirds in December. Except, being horizontal with Isaiah is something I avoid. I couldn’t give that part of me to him anymore and continue a meaningless fling. I want him to have all of me now, though. It sounds silly to say—because Isaiah couldn’t just leave Aria at Kingsbrier forever—the final piece clicked when he came back from the trip and dropped his bags by the front door. Aria lunged for him and he dragged me along for the ride. When we’re together, I feel like the three of us are special.

“Have you decided if you’ll take Aria on tour?” I rub a gentle circle on her back.

Isaiah pushes his thumbs into his eye sockets. Every choice he makes about the baby weighs heavily on him. He struggles with this one. He needs to do right by Kylie by doing right by Aria. Giving the baby a semblance of a family while they stayed at Kingsbrier makes me respect him more. I would want my child loved the way Isaiah has grown to love Aria, and I wonder if the bond we’ve established is along the lines of what my dad felt for Gracyn when she was a little girl.

“Would it help if I came along?” I nudge the stiff silence. “I could cook and take care of Aria for you.”

Isaiah sits up, adjusting the baby in his arms. “I’m not sure I can let you do that.”

“What’s the alternative? You on the road, me here, and Aria back in an empty house in Nashville?” I kneel beside him.

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