The Bromance Book Club (Bromance Book Club, #1)(27)
He took a deep breath and played his last card. “Then your sister will be ruined.”
She rounded on him again. “What does any of this have to do with my sister?”
“You said yourself that our scandal has threatened her reputation. If we can convince the ton that ours was—is—a love match, that the rumors were untrue about you, then your sister’s prospects will improve as well. But if we remain childless, if the rumors persist about us for long, she’ll be forced to marry any cur your parents push upon her. You know I’m right.”
Long moments of silence passed between them, each more painful than the last, until finally she spoke. “Benedict, there’s something I still don’t understand.”
Her use of his first name propelled him toward her. “What is it?”
“If you win, what do you get out of this?”
Benedict reached for her hand and drew it to his heart. “The greatest prize of all. I win your love.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Thea woke up the next morning with butterflies in her gut and a foot in her face. Sometime in the middle of the night, Ava had once again awakened, gotten scared in the dark, and climbed in bed with her.
Thea pressed a soft kiss to her daughter’s foot and quietly moved out from under her. The mental mom to-do list that never quieted started its slow crawl through Thea’s brain. Get groceries. Wash towels. Dump the rest of Gavin’s clothes on the guest room bed.
But first, she had to face Liv.
Thea did the bathroom thing and crept down the hallway. The door to the guest room stood open, but Liv wasn’t inside. Which meant she’d fallen asleep on the couch again after work. When she worked late shifts, she was usually too keyed up to fall asleep when she got home, so she watched TV for a while until she crashed.
Thea padded down the stairs. The rising sun cast a soft orange glow along the line of family photos that hung in meticulous order down the stairwell. Thea had never missed a year scheduling a family photo, because that’s what perfect WAGs did. Were you even a real baseball wife if you didn’t have a picture-perfect Christmas card?
Butter whimpered at the door. Thea let him out back and heard Liv yawn and stretch on the couch behind her. Thea looked over her shoulder. “What time did you get home?”
“Around three.” Liv stretched an arm high above her head and made a long, tired noise as she sat up. “It was insane last night. We had the most obnoxious group come in late and order everything on the menu.” She flopped against the cushions. “I hate bachelor parties.”
Butter ran back inside and followed Thea into the kitchen, where he waited for his breakfast with a wagging tail and jumpy paws. After dumping a cup of food into his dish, Thea started brewing the coffee.
“You going to make me drag it out of you, or are you going to tell me how things went last night?” Liv asked.
Thea filled a mug with coffee, cream, and sugar and then sat down on a barstool to face her sister. No easier way to say it than just to say it. “He’s moving home tomorrow.”
Liv made a face like a possessed doll before squawking, “What?!”
Thea held up a hand. “It’s only for a month.”
“What the hell? Why?”
“It’s complicated.”
Liv hurtled over the back of the couch with remarkable vigor for someone who’d been dead to the world just three minutes ago. “What’s complicated about it? You were so sure about this. What the hell changed?”
“He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” And hit me where it hurts, she added silently. The minute he reminded her of how she used to be—impetuous, daring, ready for any challenge—all logic fled, and the next thing she knew, she was agreeing to it.
Liv shook her head. “What could he possibly offer you that would convince you to let him come back?”
Thea summarized Gavin’s words from last night. “If he can’t win me back by Christmas, he won’t contest any aspect of the divorce. He’ll give me whatever amount I want in child support, and he’ll pay off the house for us.”
An eerie calm settled over Liv’s face. Her eyelids blinked slowly and her lips went lax.
She turned and walked slowly to the fridge. Thea watched as her sister opened the door, robotically withdrew the orange juice, filled a glass, and then put the carton back. All seemed calm, but Thea knew her sister. Liv was like a sudden summer squall—a heavy quiet followed by a whipping wind and rain.
Thea looked at the clock on the microwave. Superstorm Liv making landfall in T-minus three, two, one— Liv slammed her glass on the counter. “That manipulative sonuvabitch!”
Thea glanced at the stairs. “Keep your voice down!”
“He knows how much having a family home means to you because of how we grew up. He dangled the one thing that matters most to you in front of your face and knew you’d grab for it.”
Thea rubbed her forehead. “Liv, give me some credit, OK?”
“How can I when you’re acting just like—”
Thea slammed her mug down, sending coffee over the edge in a hot tsunami. “Don’t. Say. It. I am nothing like our mother, and my situation is completely different from hers.”
“How?” Liv scoffed.
“Because unlike Mom, I’m doing it for my daughters, not myself.” Thea described what happened at the restaurant—how upset the girls were about not going to their grandparents’ house for Thanksgiving, about missing Gavin, hating baseball. All of it.