Page 127 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“It’s not corny,” he said, emotion coating his words.
She held his gaze. “That was probably more than you wanted to hear, but yoga gave me a way to cope with my dad’s choices, and it makes me feel closer to my mom.”
“Boxing makes me feel closer to Meredith,” he said, barely able to believe the words had tumbled from his lips.
“Sebastian talks about Meredith quite a bit,” she replied.
“What does he say?” He’d never talked to his son about Meredith. He’d left that to Granny Fin, Calliope, and Callista—a choice that, for the first time, he regretted.
“He told me she liked mint chocolate chip ice cream, drawing in notebooks, twirling in the rain, and swinging as high as she could on the playground,” Libby replied.
“The lad’s right.” He pictured Mere in the garden with a little Sebastian on her lap as they glided through the air, swinging and laughing as the chains on the swing set emitted a jovial creak with each pass.
Libby pinned him with her amber gaze. “Was Meredith the reason you started boxing?”
He chuckled. “No, my granny Fin is responsible for that. I was falling in with a bad crowd after my parents passed away, and she was done putting up with my teenage nonsense.”
“Your parents died at the same time?” Libby asked.
He pictured his mum and dad. Kind and generous, John and Isabelle Cress had loved him and his sisters.
“They’d gone to the sea on holiday for their anniversary. My mum got caught in a riptide, and my dad swam out and tried to save her. That’s what the other people on the beach said. Somebody called for help, but it didn’t arrive in time.”
“I’m so sorry, Raz. That had to be difficult.”
“It was a shock, and it wrecked me to the bloody core, but my granny is the hallmark of keep calm and carry on. And that’s what she did. She kept us going. Callista and Calliope were only toddlers when my parents passed, so she didn’t have time to have a delinquent grandson on her hands. After the first call from the headmaster for skipping school, she signed me up at Aug’s gym.”
“Is that where you met Meredith?”
“Sort of—with help from lightning.”
“Lightning?” Libby repeated.
“I was at the gym, and it was raining something fierce when I glanced out the window and saw two bolts of lightning hit a lamppost. I had never seen anything like it in the city. Meredith was walking down the street when it happened. It freaked her out, and she ran inside to get out of the rain. She’d never stepped foot in the gym before.”
“That’s quite a cosmic meeting.”
“I guess you could say that,” he replied. “From that moment on, we were together.”
“Was she a fan of boxing?”
“No,” he answered, recalling Mere’s expression the first time he brought her to a fight. “She never liked watching me get hit in the head till I fell down. So, I told her I’d become so good that no one could do that to me. And I kept my word. She gave me focus and clarity. We got married when we were eighteen. She worked two jobs to support us before I started winning big money. She believed in me. She put her hopes and dreams on hold to be there for me. After I’d won my first title, she started a charity to give back, the Cress Family Foundation. She loved volunteering, loved going into tough neighborhoods and helping kids. She dragged me along a few times. We even took Sebastian. She wore him in one of those baby carriers while she scooped ice cream and handed it out.” He could see her laughing and chatting with the kids.
“What happened with the charity?” Libby asked.
“Aug and my granny took over.” He stilled. He’d cut himself off from that part of his former life. It hurt too damned much. “I’m not sure if it’s even active anymore.”
“Meredith sounds like an incredible woman.”
His throat grew thick with grief. “Yeah, she was.”
One would think talking about a dead spouse with someone you’d slept with and pretty much wanted to kiss into oblivion twenty-four seven would be awkward. It probably should be awkward, but it wasn’t. Libby had an open quality about her that drew him in like a beacon guiding a wayward boat through tumultuous waters.
“What happened to Meredith?” Libby asked, and the beacon’s light dimmed.
Could he tell her?
He’d never spoken the words.
