Baylee motions over her shoulder. “When that water main burst at city hall, the building was closed for three months because of lead paint and structural issues. Apparently, historic buildings require more permits to get major repairs done. At least, that’s what a client told me when I was doing her highlights.”
Three months? Will I get paid during that time? I need money if I’m going to cover first and last month’s rent on a new apartment. “But wouldn’t the city council issue their own permits?”
“You have to go through the historical commission, and that takes a while.”
Dang it. “I’ve been leaving messages at the mayor’s office to find out what I should do, but I haven’t heard back.”
Baylee rolls her eyes. “I’m not surprised. Even our small town has a lot of bureaucracy, which is why Paige and I thought you might be open to being Jace’s nanny. You always do a great job when you babysit Leo, and you know I only let a handful of people watch him. This job would be consistent income. That way you could save up and get a new apartment when you get back.”
This is a lot to process.
But then my mind snags on one particular detail. “Get back? Get back from where?”
Her face splits into a comical, toothy grin. “From being on tour with Jace. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
I sit stock-still as my brain goes blank.
Paige elbows Baylee. “You scared her. I told you not to smile like that. Rory, we will love you no matter what. We just thought this might solve everyone’s problems, yours and Jace’s.”
Baylee jumps out of her seat and hugs me so hard, my vision goes spotty. “I love you to pieces, and I’m with Paige on this. Nothing changes if you don’t want to do this. I know I’m being a pain in the ass right now by throwing this at you when you’re dealing with so much, but I really want to help both of my friends, you and Jace.” She slumps back into her seat. “Could you at least think about it? Because he’s ready to bail on this tour, and that breaks my heart. He’s worked too hard to get this close and not get the break he deserves.”
She wants me to go on tour with Jace, a man I swore I would never spend time with? A man who makes my palms sweat whenever I see him? A man who reminds me so much of my ex, my stomach coils in a tight knot?
My throat goes sandpaper dry. I take a sip of my water. “Let me see what I can find out from the city council. If I’ll be out of a job for a while, I’ll consider it.” I scratch the back of my neck where I’m probably breaking out into hives. “What exactly does ‘going on tour’ mean? Will I drive with the baby and meet up with Jace at stops?”
Paige winces. “How do you feel about living on a tour bus?”
A tour bus?
Please, God,pleaselet me keep my librarian job.
7
JACE
Why doesit feel like a fire engine drove over my head?
After my eyes crack open, I stare at the clock. It’s three in the morning. I’m supposed to be up in a few hours to help my brothers.
The heartbreaking wail grows, and I lean over the crib. “Layla, baby, you’re killing me right now.”
I have a lot more sympathy for Deanna than I did a few days ago. Taking care of a toddler is exhausting. I scoop up my daughter and place her on my shoulder. “It’s okay, sweet pea. I got you.”
I pat her back and go through all the steps—changing her diaper, offering her a bottle, and pacing around my small bedroom. When nothing works, I make my way out to the living room and sit in the rocking chair. I’m not sure when she falls asleep because I knock out too, but I have her wrapped in a blanket, nestled securely in the crook of my arm, and braced with a throw pillow.
I’m new to the whole dad thing, but I’ve been an uncle for a long time. This ain’t my first rodeo when it comes to dirty diapers or fussy babies.
But I can admit a whole new level of anxiety when the kid is yours.
And according to the paternity test we took this week, she’s definitely mine.
When I wake a few hours later, the sun is peeking through the window and my arm and ass are both numb, but my kid is staring up at me. “Hey, there, ladybug. Look at that smile. I knew you had it in you.” She hasn’t smiled since Sunday when her mom took off.
Behind me, Paige and the kids rustle around in the kitchen. I lift Layla and kiss the top of her head where little tufts of light brown hair jut up like eighth notes. “We’re gonna be okay, you and me. I’ll figure out this parenting thing.”
My phone lights up on the coffee table, and I lean over to grab it. I have dozens of messages from my bandmates and manager, but I’ve been putting everyone off.
Because they’re not gonna like what I have to say.