Garnet Flats (The Edens)

Kadence streaked across the gym floor, racing for Foster’s open arms as her ponytail streamed behind her. Her brilliant smile was contagious. “Did you see me?”

“I saw you. You did awesome.” He kissed her cheek and twirled her around before setting her on her feet so she could launch herself at Vivienne.

“You made three baskets.” Vivi peppered her daughter’s face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you.”

Kaddie giggled, and when Vivienne let her go, she looked up at me, her pretty brown eyes dancing.

“Way to go, cutie.” I held out a hand for a high five. “You were a superstar.”

First-grade basketball was by far the sweetest sporting event I’d ever seen. The girls had chased from one end of the court to the other, all clumped together as whoever had the ball attempted to dribble. Most shots thrown toward the hoop didn’t come close to the rim. But Kaddie had nailed three layups.

The team they’d played was the first-grade boys, and I’d been thrilled when the girls had been hailed victorious. There weren’t many other teams for the kids to play and next weekend they’d take on the other first-grade girls’ team.

The following week, they’d play the second graders. Then in a few weeks, we’d drive Kaddie to one of the neighboring towns to play their team. That was the life of small-town sports. Parents committed to road trips. And along the way, they bonded with each other.

Maggie rushed up to Kadence, the two girls giggling and whispering as Maggie’s mom waved at us all. “Bye. See you at practice next week.”

Foster jerked up his chin as Vivienne waved back. And I simply smiled, not sure how I fit into this mix.

“Hi, Talia.” A woman I’d gone to high school with walked by with her three kids in tow. One of them was on Kaddie’s team.

“Hey, Lindsey.”

We hadn’t been good friends in high school, but when your graduating class consisted of fifty-three people, you didn’t get to be very choosy with friends.

Three other people passed, all saying hello to me as they made their way to the exit.

After the last one passed, I turned to Foster, his eyes waiting.

“What?” I asked.

He threw his arm around my shoulders, hauling me into his side to kiss my temple. “You know everyone.”

“Not everyone. But almost everyone.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for coming today.”

“Of course.” Even with Vivienne here, there was no way I’d have missed Kaddie’s first game.

“Okay, what’s next?” Vivienne asked, her hand clasped with her daughter’s.

“Ice cream.” Kaddie jumped up and down. “Can we get some? Pretty please?”

“Um . . .” Foster let me go, crouching to talk to her at eye level. “I’ll have to pass on ice cream. No sugar for Daddy right now.”

What? No sugar? That was news to me. He’d had one of Mom’s chocolate chip cookies last night when she’d dropped off a dozen.

Mom had been not so subtle about her impromptu visit. She’d wanted to scope out Foster, but she’d been sweet. And he’d flattered her from the moment she’d stepped through the door to the moment he’d insisted on escorting her to her Cadillac because the sidewalk had been icy.

Maybe that was why he’d eaten a cookie, for my mother’s approval. Or maybe this diet of his was just an excuse to keep interactions between Vivienne and me to a minimum.

Sitting with her at practice earlier in the week and through today’s game hadn’t been horrible. But oh, it had been awkward. So, so awkward.

Vivienne and I had spent countless hours talking when we’d lived together, but now, I just . . . I didn’t know what to say. So I’d opted for nothing. She’d followed my lead.

And Foster was in the middle, trying to engage with us both but not one more than the other.

So awkward.

“We can get ice cream,” Vivienne told Kadence. “Then hang out at the hotel and go out to a special dinner.”

“Do you really have to leave tomorrow, Mommy?”

Vivienne sighed. “Unfortunately. But I’ll be back soon.”

The smile on Kaddie’s face dimmed.

If Vivienne missed her daughter, the feeling was mutual. Since Vivienne had arrived five days ago, the two had been nearly inseparable. Foster had spent some time at The Eloise visiting with them. I’d had to work late the other night and he’d taken them to dinner.

“Okay, then we’ll get going.” Vivienne moved close to Foster, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.

I stiffened.

It was so automatic, so natural, like she’d done it a hundred times. Because she had. That flare of envy raged, but I refused to feed it. A kiss on the cheek was nothing, right? Just a friendly peck.

Vivienne’s gaze darted to mine and her eyes widened. Apparently she’d read the jealousy on my face. “Sorry. I, um . . . habit. That’s not really appropriate anymore.”

“It’s fine,” I lied.

Foster’s hand found mine, squeezing tight. Reassurance that we’d get through this. We’d figure out how to coexist for Kadence.

He gave his daughter another hug and kiss. “See you in the morning? Have fun with Mommy.”

“Bye, Daddy. Bye, Talia.”

“Bye, Miss Madden.”

She gave me her toothy grin like she always did when I called her Miss Madden.

“Good to see you.” Vivienne gave me a look so full of pleading, of apology, it only made the awkwardness worse.

If she kept silently begging for forgiveness, and if I kept holding up my hand, it would always be uncomfortable. Someone—me—had to give.

“Have a safe trip home.” I’d be at work by the time she left tomorrow.

They left first, leaving Foster and me with the stragglers in the gym. It would be time for the high school game soon. My parents were coming into town to watch, even though they didn’t have any kids playing. But that was Quincy.

We loved our kids.

“You okay?” Foster asked.

“I don’t want it to be awkward.”

“It won’t last. Give it time.”

Time. “Yeah,” I muttered.

“Come on.” He took my hand and led me from the gym.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry. But you said no to ice cream?”

He bent to speak into my ear. “That’s not the dessert I’m after today, love.”

A shiver rolled down my spine as he quickened his steps.

Maybe there were some benefits to Vivienne hogging Kadence this week. Without having to be confined to the bedroom, Foster had gotten creative. The gleam in his eyes made my pulse race.

The long hours he’d been putting in training lately had turned his already sculpted body into a work of art. Those arms. That cut V around his hips. The rippled abs and that ass so firm I could sink my teeth into it.

I was hungry too.

“Drive fast.”

HOURS LATER, after Foster and I had finally torn ourselves from each other to shower, my hunger for him had turned into actual hunger. And rather than cook, we’d come downtown to eat at Knuckles.

Knox wasn’t working tonight. He was home with Memphis and Drake. It wouldn’t be long until they had another addition to their family and Knox was already trying to cut his hours at the restaurant to help out at home.

His absence was part of why I’d suggested Knuckles for dinner. The rest of my family was likely at the basketball game. The visit from Mom last night had gone well, but I was taking introductions slow.

Everyone knew our story, thanks to Lyla’s big mouth. Dad had filled in some of the gaps too. While they were likely talking about us, I was keeping Foster to myself for a little longer.

Enjoying our bubble.

“So tell me about this fight,” I asked as he poured me a glass of wine.

“It’s a title defense.”

“This Scott Savage is challenging your championship?”

“Yep. That’s been all my fights lately. About one match, maybe two, a year. But once this one is over, I’ll have time to decide if I want to retire or keep going. If I decide to keep going, I’ll need to take a fight within eighteen months so they don’t pick an interim title fighter.”

“What’s that?”

“Basically a placeholder. They do it for fighters who get injured. Give them a certain amount of time to get back in the Octagon. But if eighteen months pass, then it bumps to twenty-four. If I don’t fight within that two-year period, then my middleweight champion title gets stripped.”

“Oh.” Stripped seemed like such a harsh word. “Do you want to keep fighting?”

“Honestly?” He reached across the table, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together just like the last time we’d eaten here. “I don’t know.”

“You still love it, don’t you?”

“I do.” He nodded. “But the events are a lot of pomp these days. You’ll see. It’s unreal. The press is ruthless. You’ve got guys like Savage who just run their mouth and that shit irritates the hell out of me. So much so that I don’t even do much press these days. I’m lucky in that regard. The media still likes me.”

“What if they didn’t?”

“It’s a show. At the end of the day, what matters most to the people in charge is selling pay-per-view fights. For guys like Savage, the media eats up his ego and trash talk. For me, I’ve built a reputation as someone quiet.”

“Polar opposites,” I said.

“Exactly. I’m lucky because it works. The media loves to speculate about me and what I’m not saying. There’s a lot of rumors going around right now about why I’m in Montana. I ignore most of it, but that phone call I took earlier while you hopped in the shower? It was my manager. He gives me a regular rundown of what’s going on, but mostly leaves me alone unless it gets out of hand.”

“Is it out of hand?”

“Nah. It’s nothing. There’s just more speculation than normal because this is the last fight on my current contract.”

“Ah.” I took a drink of wine. “What are the rumors?”

“That I’m injured. That I’m secluded to try some new fighting techniques at high altitude. I’m in rehab for emotional stress.”

I laughed. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “From the divorce.”

“Oh.” To the world, Foster and Vivienne had been a real couple. It was another layer to this complicated mess. Would people compare us on social media? If Foster retired, would they blame that on me, the new woman in his life?

“I ignore it, Tally. You should too.”

I hadn’t gone on social media much lately. Other than looking at Foster’s Instagram, I hadn’t done much exploring. Maybe I should. Or maybe it was best to take his advice. Whatever I found would probably make me mad.

“Do you want to retire?” I asked.

“Maybe.” His gaze drifted to the table as he stared unblinking at the rim of his water glass. He’d stopped drinking wine this week. “I need a reason to fight. That’s always been the case.”

“Not just for the sake of winning?”

“It’s not enough. Not for me. In the beginning, I fought to prove myself. To Arlo mostly. To my parents. And then, after it all fell apart, I fought because it would keep Vivienne and Kadence safe. Provide them a life. Now that Arlo and his shackles are gone, it feels . . . different.”

The pained expression on his face was like a punch to the ribs.

Loss. Regret. An athlete looking back at his career and realizing it was coming to an end.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He gave me a sad smile. “Don’t be. At the moment, you’re my motivation.”

“That’s why you want me to come.”

“I need you there. I need to see your smile when it’s over, win or lose. But mostly, if this is the end, the last fight, then I want to win it for you.”

“You’ll win.”

“Even if I don’t, I won the fight that matters.”

“Your title fight?”

He shook his head. “You. You are the biggest fight of my life.”

Oh, how I loved him.

I was endlessly in love with Foster Madden.

So why couldn’t I say it?

Since I couldn’t form the words, I just held his hand tighter. “You won. You know that, right? You won.”

Foster’s entire body sagged, like he’d been waiting to hear those words.

There was no way I could walk away, not now. There was no way I’d be able to let him go.

He lifted my hand, pulling it farther across the table, forcing me to stretch as he brought my knuckles to his lips. That was it, just a kiss.

But I saw the love in his eyes.

I hoped he could see it in mine.

The waitress arrived with our food, setting it in front of us. Salmon and rice for Foster. Pasta carbonara for me.

“About Vivienne,” I said, needing to talk about what had happened earlier. “I’m not trying to make it hard on her.”

“I know that. She does too.”

“When will she move here?”

“The original plan was this summer. After the wedding. She wants to sell Angel’s and the house. But these trips back and forth are getting old. She hasn’t mentioned it, but I’m thinking she’ll bump up the timeline. That said, she’s going to run into the same problem that I have with this real estate market.”

“Then I guess you’d better stop house hunting. Save the good homes for her.”

His fork fell from his grip, clattering to his plate. “What are you saying?”

What I’d wanted to say earlier this week but had hesitated to. Why hadn’t I asked them to move in when we’d talked about it over Kadence’s laundry? Why could I do it now?

Maybe Vivienne’s visit, maybe that envy, had spurred me on. Now I could say that I shared his address too.

“I don’t want you to leave,” I said. “I like coming home to you at night. I like waking up with you in my bed.”

“You tell me this now? In public? When I can’t show you what it means to me?”

My cheeks flushed. “You already had your dessert.”

“There will be seconds.” His voice dipped to a gravelly rumble. “You sure about this? Living together?”

Yes. No. This was all happening so fast, but at the same time, it felt natural. Like this was always meant to be.

My parents would probably have a few words of caution, Dad especially. My brothers would hover and my sisters would invade personal boundaries.

“Well, hello.” Eloise chose that moment to slide into the booth at my side.

“Um, hi. What are you doing here? I thought you had the night off.”

“She’s with me.” Lyla took the empty space beside Foster, giving me a blank stare.

I mirrored the look and took a drink.

“You two need to stop fighting.” Eloise rolled her eyes.

“We’re not fighting,” Lyla and I said in unison.

Yeah, we were fighting.

“I figured you would be at the high school basketball game,” I said.

“It was a blowout,” said Eloise. “We were up by thirty points at halftime, so we decided to come over for a bottle of wine and some food.”

Foster moved over in the booth, making more room for Lyla. “Join us.”

“We’re on a date,” I argued.

He ignored me. “Want some wine? I’m not drinking and Talia won’t finish this bottle alone.”

I pursed my lips in a thin line, but arguing was pointless. So I shifted toward the wall to make space.

“We don’t have to stay,” Eloise said. “We’ll just see you tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Foster asked.

Lyla and Eloise shared a look before they stood.

My stomach dropped. That was the look of an invasion. “Not tomorrow,” I blurted. “Kadence has been with her mom all week and I don’t want a bunch of people over on her first night back.” It was a flimsy excuse but I prayed it worked.

“Oh, good point.” Eloise frowned. Phew. “Then next weekend.”

“No—” Before I could finish my objection, she and Lyla strode toward the empty table the waitress had set for them across the room. Damn.

“What was that about?” Foster asked.

I grabbed the bottle of wine to refill my glass because I’d most definitely be drinking it. “The bubble.”

“What bubble?”

“Our bubble. It’s about to burst.”