“Of course he does, he kept calling me the night I got back there because I’d left in such a temper— explained it all to him. Not that it mattered much.”
Kate snorted into her wine. “Well, Mrs Reed…better hope the roof holds.”
Chapter 49
Tyler
I’d barely seenOrla all day. She’d been tied up rehabbing Emma, who’d wrecked her shoulder so badly during the last rounds of the Open that she’d needed surgery. Orla had thrown herself into helping her recover and I couldn’t blame her; she was damn good at what she did, one of the best on tour, and everyone knew it.
I was holding together fine, my body a little sore but cooperating after the American stretch. I didn’t need as much from her hands these days, which meant she could go all in with Emma until I was back on the road.
Since we got married, I’d floated the idea of taking her straight back to Cali with me, but we’d agreed London made more sense with her working and I had some downtime before I needed to head off to the Shanghai Masters. The press hadn’t caught wind yet, but it was only a matter of time. Orla knew it too, which was why she wanted to start telling people herself before the headlines got there first. Gwen and Kate were the warm-up act this evening. Danny was next before finally calling her dad and older brother.
She was nervous as hell about Danny, and I didn’t blame her. She’d told me her brother was protective, territorial and if he had reactions like her, we were in for a bumpy ride. He seemed like the kind of guy who’d cross a street just to stand between her and trouble, which was why there was no way I was letting her face him alone. She might be his sister, but she was my wife; no one talked her down while I was in the room.
I’d booked us a nice suite in London, a stopgap until I found something better. Somewhere that felt like more than a crash pad between tournaments. Somewhere that was ours. Her flat was too small, and with Danny still living there, it wasn’t ideal.
The click of the keycard at the door broke through my thoughts. My pulse jumped before I even saw her, riding the now familiar feeling of my wife coming home to me at the end of the day. She walked in looking like she’d had a time of it, shoulders slumping as the door shut behind her.
I stretched out on the couch, grinning. “So…did they kick you out of the group chat?”
“They reacted exactly like I thought they would,” she said, tossing her bag onto a chair but this time her mouth was twitching, like she was holding back a laugh. “Gwen nearly had a stroke. First words out of her mouth were‘Oh my God, you’re pregnant’ and Kate looked like she was calculating which one of us needed therapy first. But once they got over the shock…” She shook her head, smiling now. “They were happy for us. Like, genuinely happy. No judgement. Just…really supportive.”
“That’s basically a standing ovation from those two.” I said, relieved.
She kicked off her shoes, rubbed at her temples, but there was a tension in her face that hadn’t been there when she walked in. I pushed up and slid my arms around her waist, pulling her down until her forehead rested against my chest.
“You feel any better about telling Danny?” I asked against her hair.
She snorted. “Fuck no. Even Gwen said he’ll kill us.”
“Babe.” I tipped her chin up until her eyes met mine. “He’ll kill us more if he finds out in the tabloids.”
“I know.” She sighed sharply, her eyes darting away. “It’s just…he’s hot-headed in a broody, stupid way. He’ll stew on this for weeks.”
I brushed my thumb along her jaw. “Then let him stew. We’re telling him. Your dad, too. No hiding. You’re my wife. End of story.”
Her lips twisted like she wanted to argue but deep down she knew she had to do this sooner rather than later. “Fine. Then we do it now. Before I back out again.”
She pulled out her phone, thumbs flying across the screen, sending Danny a quick message that she was on her way home. She didn’t mention me—I clocked it instantly, that little omission. She wanted to soften the blow. But it didn’t change a thing. He was about to find out, and I’d be standing right there beside her when he did. She glanced up at me from her phone and gave a loud huff. I gave her a reassuring smile, grabbed her hand and my keys and led her out of the door before she could back out.
By the time we rolled up outside her flat in Balham, it was past ten p.m., and way too late to be dropping a bomb like this. But I could see her chewing her lip raw, and I knew if we waited, she’d stall again. I rounded the car, laced my fingers through hers, and squeezed tightly.
Her key turned in the lock and she pushed her way in. I trailed tentatively behind her.
“Danny?” she called.
“In the living room,” came the deeply voiced reply in the same Irish lilt as hers.
The place was small, barely enough room for the three of us and the tension was already tightening like a wire. He did a double take when he saw me step in behind her, then pushed off the couch fast.
“Oh. I wasn’t…uh…wasn’t expecting both of you,” he said, caught off guard, standing there shirtless in track pants. Jesus, I knew he played pro rugby but this guy was fucking huge. Orla was a tall girl but he must have been six three at least and a pure slab of bulging muscle.
“Danny, you haven’t met properly, but this is Tyler. Tyler, Danny, my brother,” she introduced, her voice too bright for what she’d come here to say.
“Good to meet you, bro,” I said, throwing out a hand, trying to play it friendly.
He didn’t take it. Just gave me a sharp nod, eyes flicking back to Orla.
