This is not a romantic start to a relationship, that’s for damn sure.

I finish my whiskey in a single gulp.

“Think about it, all right? Forgiving yourself,” Ford says, shooting me a meaningful glance.

I grunt in reply. “The baby news stays between us for now.”

“Of course. But you know Mom is going to shit a brick when she finds out. She’s going to be so excited. And so…surprised.”

Scoffing, I look out over Ford’s backyard, strewn with Little Tikes everything. I don’t have a yard at all. Where’s my kid going to play?

I make a mental note to call my realtor, Vanessa. Ask her to put out some feelers for a new place with enough space for a swing set and maybe a soccer net.

I can’t provide my kid with married parents. But I am able to provide in other ways. I’ve got money. Lots of it. Julia asked me to be invested in this baby’s upbringing. What better way to do that than raising him or her in a real home with a real backyard and space to grow?

“Because I haven’t given Mom and Dad enough surprises,” I say.

“Shut up.” Ford nudges me. “This is a good surprise. Mom’s going to want to meet her, you know. Julia. Like, yesterday.”

“I know.” I grab my cigarettes and slide them into my back pocket. I’m going to regret that last one tomorrow morning at the gym.

“I imagine this was a shock for Julia, too. You should send her something.”

I raise a brow.

“Flowers. Fruit. Something to let her know you’re thinking of her. Rebecca had a really shitty time of it during her first trimester. It’s hard for you, but it’s harder for Julia. Don’t forget that.”

“Right,” I say, nodding. “Okay. Good call. Thanks for listening. And for the whiskey.”

“No problem.” Ford glances at the baby monitor. “Bryce’s gonna be bummed to know Uncle Grey was here and she didn’t get to play with you.”

“Tell her I’ll be by on Friday. Y’all still down for dinner?”

“You don’t have to bring dinner.”

“I’ll try to make it by six, although I won’t be able to stay long because I’ve got an eight o’clock meeting.”

“Who schedules an eight o’clock meeting on a Friday night?”

“I do. Only slot I had left for the weekend. Someone’s got to pay the bills.”

Ford sighs. “You know, I can—”

“I got it. Y’all just text me what y’all want to eat.”

“Thank you. And Grey?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to be a great dad.”

The breath catches in my throat. I swallow.

“Thanks,” I say.

Even though I don’t believe it. Not for one fucking second.

Chapter Eight

Julia

Julia: You sent me a lemon tree.

Greyson: I did

Greyson: Do you not like it? I thought you could use the lemons. Put them in your topo chico because you can’t drink and that sucks

Julia: It does suck. But the lemons make it suck a little less. Thank you.