Rally (Treasure State Wildcats Book 3)

April twenty-fourth.

Draft day. Faye’s due date.

I’d planned to watch the draft tonight, but instead, I drove across town to the diner, checking my phone for the hundredth time. I’d expected a text or call hours ago, but I hadn’t heard a word from Faye since she’d left for her shift this afternoon.

She’d had a rough night last night, barely sleeping because she was so uncomfortable. Then her lower back had started to hurt. She’d called the doctor who’d told her it could be early signs of labor and to call if her contractions started.

She was supposed to check in. Why the hell hadn’t she checked in?

I raced down the road, driving well over the speed limit on the rough road to Dolly’s. When its green siding came into view, Faye’s Explorer parked at the back door, the air rushed from my lungs.

My foot came off the gas as I slowed to turn into the parking lot.

The oddly crowded parking lot.

“What the hell?”

The only open space was in the third row. I took it and parked, hopping out to scan the extra vehicles.

Three cars had Treasure State stickers in their rear windows. There were a couple out-of-town license plates. And, wait . . .

Was that Maverick’s truck?

I hustled across the lot to the front door, peering inside the windows. The dining room was packed with people.

Students, actually. Other than one table with a couple of older regulars I’d seen a few times at Dolly’s, all of the other tables were taken with people my age.

The door’s chime was familiar, but the noise and bustle of the restaurant swallowed it whole. It didn’t linger like it did normally.

“Rush.” Maverick slid out of a booth—my booth—and walked over, hand extended. “Hey, man.”

“Hi.” I shook his hand. “What are you doing here?”

“You never told me Faye worked here.”

“Okay,” I drawled. “So you came to see her?”

“No. I just said I didn’t know she worked here.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Eating dinner with Erik.” He gestured toward the booth. “Kalindi and one of her friends are on their way too.”

Erik twisted in his seat, lifting a hand to wave.

I jerked up my chin. “Oh. How’d you find out about Dolly’s?”

“Well, not because of you or Faye.” He rolled his eyes. “I found a flyer advertising this place on campus. It said ‘Save Dolly’s,’ so I thought I’d check it out. I was telling Erik about it while we were in the weight room. He told Kalindi. Some of the other guys overheard and decided to try it too.”

Faye’s flyer had worked. I’ll be damned. I grinned as pride swelled.

Now that I was inside, I recognized most of the faces. Some were younger guys on the football team. Others were athletes from different sports.

Months ago, I’d planned to spread the word about Dolly’s. Tell guys from the team so they’d give it a chance. We’d had so much happen, I hadn’t mentioned it.

Damn, I was glad I’d kept my mouth shut.

This victory was Faye’s.

“Huh.” I shook my head, still not sure what to make of a Dolly’s Diner that was crammed with customers.

“Take it you’re here to see Faye?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, rubbing my jaw.

“She’s in the kitchen. Want to sit with us?”

“Uh, sure.” I took a step, about to follow him down the aisle, when the door opened at my back.

Two girls from the volleyball team stepped inside. One was Jennsyn Bell, the star who’d transferred to Treasure State last summer and absolutely dominated on the court. The other was Stevie Adair.

Stevie took one look at Maverick and the smile she’d been wearing turned to a scowl. “Maverick.”

“Stevie,” he sneered.

It was a rare sight to see a woman glare at Mav. Well, a woman other than Faye.

While Maverick didn’t talk much about Stevie, I’d known of their mutual hate since freshman year.

Maverick’s parents and Stevie’s parents were best friends. They’d grown up together, here in Mission. Their childhood friendship had ended ages ago. According to Mav, Stevie had decided to hate him for some unknown reason.

So of course, he had to hate her back.

Someday, I’d like to hear Stevie’s side of that story. I had a hunch it was very, very different than Maverick’s tale.

“Cool diner,” Stevie said. “Even if they let anyone in the door.”

Maverick scoffed. “Nice, Adair. Always so good to see you.”

“You can rot, Houston.” Stevie shot him a glare, then followed Jennsyn toward the last empty table.

Yeah. I’d definitely like the other side of that story.

The swinging door to the kitchen flew open and Faye walked out carrying three plates loaded with burgers and fries. “Hey.”

“Hey, sweets.”

Dusty emerged next, her plates full of pancakes, omelets, bacon and toast.

“I’m helping,” I told Dusty. Not a chance I was going to sit while Faye waited on all of these people.

“Damn straight.” Dusty nodded for the kitchen. “You’re on dishes. Mike’s busy cooking.”

I clapped Mav on the shoulder, then headed for the back, hanging my coat on a hook beside Faye’s, then hauling off my sweatshirt until I was in jeans and a T-shirt, standing at the sink to start on a stack of dirty plates.

Five were rinsed and loaded into the dishwasher’s tray when Dusty stormed into the kitchen with Faye close to follow.

“You didn’t stop with your flyers, did you?” Dusty whirled on Faye, hands planted on hips.

“Nope.”

“What the hell are you thinking?” Dusty flung out a hand. “Did you not hear a word I said?”

“Yes, I heard you.” Faye jutted up her chin. “And I decided it was utter bullshit. If you don’t want to be trapped in Dolly’s, then sell it. Who gives a damn what the assholes in your family think? It’s not like they’re speaking to you anyway.”

“Baby girl,” Dusty held up a finger in warning, “watch yourself.”

“Please.” Faye rolled her eyes.

It was the first and only time I’d ever seen her roll her eyes, and for a moment, she was every bit Gloria’s older sister.

“You have no problem being blunt when it comes to my life,” she said. “So don’t act so offended when you finally get a taste of your own attitude. Sell Dolly’s. Start a snake farm with Mike. Move to Mexico. I don’t care what you do as long as you’re happy. And if Dolly’s doesn’t make you happy, then let it go. But your best shot at attracting a buyer is by filling empty seats.”

Mike, standing by the flattop, ducked his chin, but not before I caught the hint of a smile he was trying damn hard to hide as he inspected his shoes.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” Dusty said. “And you’re still fired.”

“No, I’m not.” Faye crossed her arms over her chest.

My spitfire.

Good for her. She was going to fight for her happiness. She was going to fight and win.

I loved her. God, I fucking loved her.

“You’re not firing me. I’ll quit when we move. Until then, you’re stuck with me until you sell this place.”

Dusty opened her mouth, like she was about to snap, but then confusion replaced her anger as her forehead furrowed. “What do you mean, move? Where the hell are you going?”

Faye opened her mouth, except before she could answer, her eyes bulged. Her hands flew to the sides of her belly. “Um.”

“What?” I was at her side in a second, my wet hands covering hers. “What’s wrong?”

Her nose scrunched. “I think my water just broke.”

Dusty flew into action, running to get Faye’s coat. She threw it at my head. “Don’t just stand there, Rush. You need to drive us to the hospital.”

Us. Faye’s eyes welled with tears.

She’d lost a mother this year. But she still had one too.

“Mike?” Dusty called, jogging to her office.

“I’ve got the diner, honey,” he shouted. “Get outta here.”

My heart climbed into my throat as I met Faye’s gaze.

Time was up. But we’d had enough. Thank fuck, we’d made it here. Together.

“Ready?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. I think I am.”

I kissed her forehead. “Me too.”

There was a baby in my arms.

My son.

The faint rays of dawn lit the windows of our hospital room. Faye was resting in bed, her face turned toward the glass. But her eyes were on us in the chair in the corner.

Dusty had left an hour ago to get a few hours of sleep now that we were settled in our room for a couple of days. But before she’d left, she’d kissed Faye’s forehead and told her she’d be back before lunch with decent food and not to even think about ordering from the hospital’s cafeteria.

My parents were nearly to Mission from the ranch. They’d be staying until we went home.

But for now, we had a few quiet moments of us. The three of us.

“Squish,” I murmured, dropping a kiss to the blue knit cap over his head. Then I looked at Faye. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Her eyes were heavy from a long, sleepless night of labor to deliver a nine-pound, three-ounce baby boy.

Without a doubt, she was the strongest person I’d ever met.

“We did it,” she murmured.

“You did it.”

She shook her head. “We. We just had to rally.”

I stared at my son’s face, peaceful in sleep. Rally. “Rally Ramsey,” I murmured, trying it out to see how it sounded.

“Huh?” Faye asked.

“What if we named him Rally?”

She hummed. “Rally Gannon Ramsey.”

It clicked. Instantly. “That’s his name.”

“That’s his name.” Faye smiled, letting out a quiet laugh. “I guess we have to stop calling him Squish.”

“Nah.” I touched the tip of his nose. “Not yet.”