Page 81 of Worth the Fight

“Then pregnancy brain,” I reassert.

“You are such a liar,” Desi scoffs. “You’ve seen Grady, right? All ripples and perfection and⁠—”

“I’ve seen him, all right,” I murmur as I take a sip and think about yesterday. Grady coming home from being dad on Brody’s first day of school. The silent desperation in his every movement and expression. The way he held me, pulled me in, and didn’t take his hands off me until a long time later when we were naked beside each other in his bed and his breathing evened out.

“She’s fucked him.”

I’m not sure what else was said while I was thinking of all things Grady, but those three words definitely catch my attention. “Excuse me?” I sputter out a laugh.

“It’s written all over that face of yours,” Emerson says.

“Dreamy eyes,” chimes in Desi. “Check.”

“Squirming in your seat because . . . just damn.” Emerson sighs and then winks. “Check.”

“You guys are incorrigible.” I shake my head.

“We might be, but you know it’s true.”

“Double check,” I finally confess, garnering a holler from Desi.

“I have a million does-he-know-how-to-use-his-hose jokes I can throw at you, but I’ll spare you,” Desi says as she taps her wine glass to mine. “Just tell me one thing . . .”

“Oh God.” Emerson puts her hands over her eyes, worried about what comes next.

“Does he find you hot and leave you wet?” Desi throws her head back and laughs as I roll my eyes. She slaps a hand on the table. “I’ve always wanted to ask that.”

“Hey, Desi,” I say as I crook my finger for her to come closer. “You know what they say about firefighting, right? It’s all about the size, the equipment, and the technique . . . I’ll vouch that Grady’s the total package.”

“Well, hot damn. At least there’s one Malone man left. I still have hope.”

“Grayson is so not your type,” Emerson says.

“For the night he could be.” She lifts her eyebrows and laughs.

“Who’s gotta go pee? This prego,” Emerson says and raises her hand.

“C’mon,” Desi says as she slides off her own stool. “I’ve gotta go, too.”

I watch the two of them weave through the bar toward the bathroom as I play with the stem of my wine glass. This is just what I needed.

“Management says you’re not allowed in here for another week,” the bartender at my back says.

“I didn’t start shit,” a voice says, and I hate that every part of me hunches over to hide. It’s Wes Winters. The last time we saw each other, he was making an excuse as to why he couldn’t get hard and rabbiting out of Grady’s house. The night of reckless sex Grady said I needed to have in order to get over Jett ended up an embarrassing catastrophe.

But at least I got the good end of the stick. I smile and straighten my shoulders. I’ve got Grady Malone. Does Wes really even matter anymore?

Desi and Emerson come back and are getting seated when something is said that gets all of our attention.

“Why are you not allowed in here?” a male voice asks.

“Because of that asshole, Grady Malone. The fucker took a shot at me a few weeks back,” Wes says, and I can see Emerson slide a glance over to her side to see who is speaking.

“Malone? He’s usually chill. Why’d he have a beef with you?”

“He didn’t like the truth.”

The three of us look at each other, and suddenly, there is a pit of dread dropping into the bottom of my stomach. Like I want to turn this show off but can’t stop watching it, either. Because the only tie that connects Wes to Grady is me.