Page 64 of Shootout Daddies
The word “family” hung there. I saw some of the guys exchanging looks, the kind that said they were filing that away for later locker room talk.
Coach’s eyes flicked up to the bleachers. Ivy stood there, Chloe clinging to her hip, trying to calm her down.
Something in his expression softened, and he gave a short nod. “Fine. But don’t make a habit of it. Go.”
So we went.
Now, walking through the quiet corridor, I feel Ivy’s gaze on me again. She’s biting her lip like she wants to ask something but isn’t sure how.
Finally, she says, “When you told Coach about the situation with Chloe… did you mention me?”
I glance at her. She’s tense, her shoulders pulled tight.
“We told him you were here because we invited you,” Rhett says. “We were going to take you out after practice anyway. To eat. Relax. You know.”
I nod, adding, “Yeah, Coach didn’t push. He saw the baby. He understood.”
Her shoulders drop just slightly, like that reassurance helps.
She adjusts the strap of the diaper bag and exhales. “Okay. Good.” A pause, then, “I should probably tell you. Landon was there.”
The name hits me like a puck to the ribs. I look at her sharply. “You saw him?”
She nods. “In the stands. Well… more like across the way. He saw me, too.”
Rhett slows his steps. “I didn’t know he would be there.”
“I don’t think anyone did,” she says. “He just looked surprised. Confused, maybe. I don’t know.”
I can tell by the flicker in her eyes that she’s worried about more than just a passing glance. She knows as well as we do that Landon isn’t the type to forget what he sees.
Rhett rubs at his jaw. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
I raise a brow. “How do you figure?”
“Now that the team knows about Chloe, and Coach knows, maybe it’s time we start figuring out who else we can trust. Landon’s been circling us anyway, whether we like it or not. If weinvite him over, see how he reacts, maybe we can gauge whether telling him the full truth is even possible.”
Ivy stops in her tracks. “Invite him over? For dinner?”
Rhett shrugs, casual in a way I know is mostly an act. “Yeah. Why not? It’s better than letting him piece things together on his own. You know he will. He’s not blind.”
I shift Chloe again. She’s drooling cracker mush onto my shoulder, but I hardly notice. My stomach twists with the idea.
“You think we can trust him?” I ask.
Rhett doesn’t answer right away. His eyes flick to Ivy. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, clearly torn.
“It’s not about trust, not yet,” she says. “It’s about control. You’d rather choose to let him in than wait for the moment he decides to knock on your door and start asking questions.”
That lands hard, mostly because she’s right.
I glance down at Chloe, who has finally calmed completely. She leans into me, her little face tucked against my chest.
The steady weight of her is grounding, but it also makes me realize just how much we have to lose if this goes wrong.
“Dinner, then,” Rhett says. His mind clearly made up. “We’ll invite him. See what happens.”
Ivy’s eyes dart between us. “Are you sure? Because if this backfires?—”
