Love Restored (Gallagher Brothers #1)(26)

Blake didn’t say anything for a moment while she tried to get her thoughts in order.

“What did you do when you saw her?” Maya asked quietly. “What did Graham do?”

“He told me to get inside while he dealt with her, but I left. I don’t need that, Maya. I have so much crap on my plate. Crap I can’t tell you. Crap that needs to stay between me and mine. But no matter how good Graham’s dick is, it can’t be worth the drama.”

Maya bit her lip. “Sometimes, it’s not about the dick, Blake. But you’re old enough and have lived long enough to know that.”

Blake looked at her cake, trying to think. Instead of thinking too hard, however, she blurted, “I have a kid, Maya. Rowan’s ten years old and the light of my life. Everything I do is for her. It’s why I needed to work at your shop because you guys know what you’re doing. It’s why I never go out unless I know she’s safe. I keep her close to me and out of other’s lives for reasons I can’t get into. I’m only telling you now so you get me. I can’t risk her, Maya. I can’t risk myself because of her. And the drama surrounding Graham is too much. I need…I don’t know what I need, but I know my baby girl deserves the world, and I’ll be damned if I let anything else touch her.”

Maya kept silent during all of that, and Blake was happy for it. If the other woman had interrupted her, she’d have broken down or stopped speaking. Something lifted off her chest, forcing her to take a deep, ragged breath.

“I’d love to talk about your baby girl. Maybe even meet Rowan one day. I didn’t know you were a mom, and might not have even guessed it if you hadn’t mentioned something about my pregnancy before.” Her eyes brightened, and Blake winced. “I remember you saying something about cravings or new babies, and I wondered how you seemed to know. As for why you keep her a secret? If it’s to keep her safe or to keep things separate, I get it. But Blake? We Montgomerys take care of our own. And hell, so do the Gallaghers. You need us? Any of us? We’re here. You’re not alone now. Not unless you want to be or feel you have to be.”

Emotion clogged Blake’s throat, and she forced herself to swallow. “Maybe,” she whispered. “I…Rowan’s my everything.”

“And if that’s the case, let her be everything.” Maya paused, worry clouding her face. “If you and Graham talk again and things work out—” She held up her hand as Blake opened her mouth to say that wouldn’t be happening. “You don’t know that, Blake. You don’t know what’s going on exactly, and things could shift. But if you get close to him, you need to tell him about Rowan. I can’t tell you why, I can’t tell you how you should do it, but I’m telling you that he needs to know.”

Blake frowned. There was so much secrecy between them. Surrounding him. And yet she knew she shouldn’t get closer.

But the world had already put them in each other’s orbits over and over again. Graham Gallagher wouldn’t be easy to forget, but in the end, it might be better if she tried.





7


Graham needed to bang his head against a wall, but that wasn’t about to happen right then. Everything had gone to shit with just one knock on the door, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about it now.

Candice was now in his living room—he’d relented and let her in after closing the door on her earlier—and Blake had walked out of his life.

What the hell had just happened?

“Who was that?” Candice asked.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have time for this, and frankly, hadn’t had time years before when Candice had been standing in his other home. The home they’d once shared together. They’d sold that place during the divorce—memories too deep, too painful for either of them to keep it.

“Don’t do that. Don’t be the shrill ex-wife. It doesn’t flatter either of us.”

“I’m not shrill.”

“The fact you have to defend being shrill or not proves the point.”

Candice let out a huff of breath. “No, it doesn’t. And calling each other names isn’t going to help the situation.”

He whirled on her. “And what is the situation? You come here out of nowhere, during a month that I truly don’t want to see your face, and act like you’re entitled to be here.”

“We were in love. We were married. We had a daughter.”

“All in past tense, Candice.”

Her eyes widened, and his stomach revolted. He hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t meant to even think it.

“Fuck. I didn’t mean… Fuck! I miss Cynthia every day and every minute I breathe. She is part of every f*cking thing I do, Candice. And the fact that I feel that way, and the fact that until recently you decided to try and forget her, doesn’t mean you have a right to be here. Don’t look at me like that; you tossed her shit in a box because it made you cry. What about me? Huh? What if I wanted to see her face when I woke up in the morning in that damn picture? I didn’t have my kid, but I damn well wanted to see her face in any way I could. We grieved differently, and it broke us. You left, Candice. Why couldn’t you stay gone?”

His chest heaved after he’d finished, his heart racing, his lungs aching. She just stared at him, tears in her eyes, as if he’d hit her. And he hadn’t, damn it. He’d never laid a hand on the woman who had broken him further when he’d thought he was already far more than broken. She’d walked away just as he had because there had been nothing left between them. They’d fallen out of love, and hadn’t even liked each other in the end. Though the divorce had been wanted on both sides and not contested, it still burned that he’d lost that part of his life when he’d lost Cynthia.