Page 89 of Drop the Mitts

Jenna went rigid by the oven. Country shot up from the couch. “Uh, I’ll get it.” He swung the door wide, and they all held their collective breath.

Brady stood on the porch in jeans, a worn fleece jacket, and scuffed boots. “Hey.”

Country put out a hand, and Brady shook it. “Gentry Maddox. Come on in.”

Brady stepped inside like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch the floor. His eyes swept the farmhouse slowly, taking in the mismatched picture frames on the wall, the baby swing by the fireplace, and finally, to where Hope sat in Polk’s lap, blinking up at him with those wild, curious eyes.

The guy stopped dead. Like the sight of her punched the air from his lungs. Brady stared at Hope, then cleared his throat and dropped to a crouch. Not close. Not reaching. Just lowering himself to her level, his hands dangling helplessly between his knees.

“Hi,” he said softly. “I’m . . . my name’s Brady.”

Hope blinked. Then gave a delighted squeal and reached toward the crinkle of his jacket. Brady’s face cracked like a dam.

Polk shifted slowly and handed her over. To his credit, Brady didn’t bolt. Didn’t burst into tears. Just picked her up like he’d done it a thousand times and had only forgotten the rhythm. His hands were solid. Gentle. Hesitant at first—but then, she tucked her little fist into the collar of his coat, and the tension sighed out of him.

“She looks like me,” he whispered. Something ruptured in André’s chest. Brady looked up, eyes glassy. “I didn’t know.”

Jenna stepped forward, her voice steady but soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He glanced at her, nodded once, then dropped his head to look at Hope. They stood through a long silence, then jumped at a knock on the door.

Jenna frowned and strode forward, flinging it open.

André’s eyes widened. Elodie stood there, hair half-pulled back, her expression calm, but he knew her well enough tosee her feet kicking under the surface. Beside her, that had to be Amey. She was small, pale, with quiet eyes ringed with sleeplessness.

Grace’s whole body snapped tight beside him. She stepped forward instinctively.

“Elodie,” she said tightly. “What is this?”

Jenna turned back and smiled. “It’s alright. I let Elodie know we’d be here.”

Elodie and Amey walked in. “Sorry we didn’t confirm. It was a last-minute decision.”

André cut a glance at his sister, surprised and a little proud. What therapist came with her client to see her baby daddy for the first time in years?

Amey paused when she saw Hope in Brady’s arms. Her mouth opened. No sound came out.

Brady stood, Hope still tucked against his chest, and turned to face Amey. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Amey swayed like the words knocked her off balance. “You said you didn’t want kids.”

“I said notnow,” he choked out. “You didn’t even give me the chance.”

Amey blinked, tears finally spilling. “I didn’t know how.”

André wanted to disappear. Wanted to throw Grace over his shoulder and get the hell out of there.

Amey looked at Jenna, eyes wet. “I’m sorry. I lied about the ten days—” Her eyes widened when she saw Grace standing behind her.

Grace put up a hand. “This is off the record. You’re okay.”

Amey nodded, her lip trembling.

Grace picked up the pen and legal pad sitting on the counter beside her. André moved a bit closer. He didn’t touch her, didn’t say anything—just crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

She flicked her gaze up for only a second, but it was enough.

He gave her a nod.I’ve got you.

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