Page 61 of Where the Blacktop Ends

Then—finally—silence.

By the time I reach the safety of our community gates, my lungs are burning, my legs aching, but I don’t stop until I’ve crossed into familiar territory. I twist around, scanning the street, my pulse hammering in my ears.

No one followed us.

Only then do I slow my pace, my breath ragged, my heart still thrumming from the chase—the nearaccident. Liam’s soft crieshave morphed into deep, heaving sobs against my shoulder, his little body trembling in my arms. Liam’s crying, I’m shaking—we’re a sweaty, snotty mess.

I squeeze my eyes shut, inhaling deeply in a desperate attempt to steady myself. Then, carefully, I loosen my grip, setting Liam down in front of me. His tear-streaked face is blotchy, his lip wobbly, and it guts me. Crouching down, I meet his wide, watery eyes and press my hands gently to his shoulders.

“It’s okay, buddy,” I murmur, even thoughnothingabout this feels okay. “That was scary, wasn’t that?” I steady my voice as I speak to him gently.

He nods his head, his sobs turning into sniffles now.

“I’ll always keep you safe. I won’t let that happen again, okay? We’ll talk to your Papa about getting some big, even scarier guys to protect us when we go out—bodyguards. You’ll like them.”

He nods again as I force my biggest smile and hug him tightly against my chest.

“Can I have an ice poppy?” he mumbles into my hair, and I can’t help but laugh.

After everything that just happened, what else is there to say? If there’s one thing about two-year-olds, it’s that they’re resilient, and in his mind, he’s already moved on to a cold snack while I’m still catching my breath, thinking about the fact that Troy had lunch with Minnie Meadows this morning.

“Yeah buddy, we can get you an ice poppy. Let’s go inside and clean you up first.”

Chapter 23 – Troy

I’d rather be anywhere but in New York City right now.

Lunch with Minnie was as excruciating as I expected. I’d been dodging it for weeks, and when I finally sat through it, I had to—once again—make it clear that our relationship was strictly professional. That there was nothing more between us, nor would there ever be.

The only reason I agreed to be seen with her was to keep her father’s political connections on my side—and to support her animal rescue cause. A noble enough mission, saving pets left behind by careless renters, but it didn’t make sitting through that lunch any easier. By the time we’ve finished eating, mostly with her attempting to hold back tears that never fall, the whole ordeal has left me feeling drained and annoyed.

By the time I slog through an endless cab ride in Friday traffic, my mood is shot, my workload is piling up, and my patience is non-existent. My plan to make it home in time for Liam’s bedtime routine is quickly slipping away due to how long our lunch ran and frankly, I miss him.

And Georgia...

Because I hardly slept last night in the room down the hallway from hers and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.

I open my phone for the first time since lunch to check emails and my afternoon meetings. Phone calls, text messages—the endless stream of work used to not feel this overwhelming. I desperately need to hire more help, but I know I can’t make any moves until I secure the governor position. And that won’t be determined for another month.

I skim through messages, deleting most without reading, until one from Regan in the family group chat catches my eye. The thread’s been running for nearly a decade, mostly to coordinate farm business and distillery updates. Lately, it’s been quiet.

I open the latest message to see what she’s sent today.

Regan: I know you said you hired a new nanny for Liam, but you described her as if she was Eleanor’s age, not, THAT.

Cash: Yeah, what the fuck man? Did you just pick the hottest woman you could find in New York to hire?

What the hell are they talking about?

Lawson: Guys, leave Troy alone, he’s so clueless about women he probably doesn’t even realize he hired her. Did Diane hire her for you?

Cash: ?? ?? ??

Regan: She’s so pretty! Bring her home sometime so we can meet her. Oh, and bring my great nephew with you. Aunt Regan misses Liam.

Lawson: So do Beckham and me!

Regan: But seriously... is she okay, Troy? That looked like a close call.

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