Page 96 of Unexpectedly Falling
“Jesus, Kins, warn a girl,” I say through a new lump of emotion in my throat as tears stream continuously down my face.
She laughs but it’s just as pained. “You deserve this. You’re happy in Blackstone Falls with that hot-as-sin sheriff and sweet baby girl. You’re getting to build a life—a real life, Ness. Not everyone does.”
It’s okay to redefine what success means to you.
Straightening my shoulders and wiping the moisture from my face, I smile as I say, “Well, then there’s only one thing left to do.”
“What’s that?”
“We gotta win the championship.”
Kinsley whoops and I do a little dance. “Hell yeah, we do. Let’s send you off with a bang, Ness. It’s gonna be a hell of a season.”
“Amen to that.”
44
JENSEN
Plunging the bottle into the soapy water, I jam the brush inside and mutter under my breath. It makes sense that babies are a lot of work, naturally. They’re learning and growing—testing limits and fate.
But it’s the other parts that had escaped my understanding, like how many bottle parts would have to be cleaned and sanitized on any given day, and this morning I’d practically rejoiced to find a load of towels in the dryer and not four hundred pieces of baby clothing. Stark reality hit when I went from being a bachelor who primarily lived in a uniform to a single dad with nearly triple the number of things to do on any given day.
Panic squeezes my lungs, making it hard to breathe at the thought of it truly just being my daughter and me in a couple of short weeks.
My daughter.
Every day feels like I’m exactly where I’ve always meant to be.
A swift knock on the door is my father’s only announcement before he’s stepping into the kitchen and hanging his jacket onthe hook. Turning, he sets a tinfoil-covered plate on the island, and because I was expecting him, I fill a coffee mug and hand it to him as he settles on the stool across from me.
“Your mama made turnovers.” He eyes me over the rim of his mug. “She was nervous this morning.”
I nod because I’d had to shove Nessa out the door, for a different reason but nervous all the same. Mama was nervous that Nessa was still upset from the other day when she’d watched Remi. And Nessa just didn’t want to grow any more attached.
But she had agreed to let Mama take her for pedicures at the Cedar Lake Day Spa, and so far, I didn’t have any 9-1-1 messages, so I’d take that as a good sign.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do when George comes to relieve you at the station?”
Setting the bottle on the plastic tree to dry, I shut the water off and wipe my hands slowly on the towel, studying the checkered red-and-white pattern with far too much interest.
“I’m gonna follow her,” I say slowly, before lifting my head and meeting his gaze, “at least until I need to be back at the station. Then hopefully we’ll figure something out that’s more permanent.” Swallowing hard, I ask, “Do you think I’m crazy?”
“I think you’d be crazy not to follow her,” he says with a small smile as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“Really?”
“I know you love this town—the county—and you’ve done a damn fine job bein’ sheriff here,”—he pauses—“but you’d make a damn fine sheriff in Nashville too.”
Nodding slowly, I let that sink in as another possibility comes to the forefront of my mind. “I could teach at the academy too—doesn’t exactly lend itself to a flexible schedule, but it might be an option.”
“I imagine you’re gonna want to talk to Nessa about all this.”
Scrubbing my hand through my hair, I glance at my daughter fast asleep in the swing. “I have no idea how she’ll react.”
“All I’ll say is make sure you’re doin’ it for the right reason. Don’t follow her because you’re using her as a crutch. Nessa deserves to be loved and cherished all on her own, not because of the circumstances that landed her here.”
The sentiment is one I’d struggled with from the moment she showed up on my doorstep with Remi. I’d felt a connection to her—been enamored by her beauty and strength—and yet I’d been terrified that it was all just an illusion. A transference of emotion based on guilt and proximity rather than true and tangible feelings.
