Her eye did that funny thing again as she lightly dropped her wallet back into what might have been a three-thousand-dollar purse. “May I speak to the manager?”

“That’s me,” I explained, letting my asshole smile dissolve. The grandma, grandma, grandma chant in my head went nowhere.

There.

The woman who my baby girl may or may not be related to, opened her mouth like she was going to say something else, but another voice beat her to speaking.

A voice with the same accent that Jonah and his maybe-mom had. “Still no Hema?” A woman’s voice.

I glanced to the side to find a woman walking over.

A really pretty woman with long, dark brown hair, an oval-face, and blue eyes.

Why the fuck did I feel on the edge of blacking out with rage?

“No,” Sarah Collins answered, still using that snooty-ass tone that had put me on edge.

The other woman pouted. Okay, it was more of a frown, but it sent my blood pressure soaring either way. And my eyelid….

I had literally just asked him about a secret marriage or a girlfriend, and he’d said there was none of that. He wouldn’t lie to me. She could be anyone. There was no reason for my eyelid to start jumping all over the place and for me to assume my vision was about to go dark. No way.

I needed to get the fuck out of here.

Sliding my palms over my thighs, I faced the older woman and said, “You’re more than welcome to wait. There are a few water fountains and a juice bar straight ahead if you want something. Let us know if there’s anything else you need.”

And like the chickenshit I apparently was now, I turned around and headed back the way I had come.

Fucking shit. Fuck.

A part of me genuinely hoped that this woman really wasn’t related to Jonah, but my sixth sense said she was. That was just my luck. If I could take the exchange back, I wouldn’t. She’d been a bitch and so had I, but what was I going to do? Bend over and take it?

Yeah fucking right.

And then there was the woman with her. Shorter than me, slim, really fucking pretty. Asking about Hema. Who was she and why did I care so much?

I was losing it. I really was.

I needed to cool it. I needed to breathe, and I could tell meditation wasn’t going to do the trick. Not when I was this riled up.

Luckily, the solution came to me instantly.

Peter was on the floor when I got into the building, working with a small group. I kicked my boots off inside my office, sending both of them flying toward my desk. Today was his day with the lesser-experienced amateur fighters. What that meant was that they weren’t good at fighting both standing up and being on the ground. But they weren’t total noobs. The eight guys and three girls were on the mats. From the look of what Peter was trying to demonstrate, they were going to be working on handstand rolls, which meant that they were lined up in three rows and would go from a standing position to a handstand, then allowing themselves to roll out of it to get back into a standing position.

It was a lot of balance and control.

I had done it a ton in judo. Most fighters did it a ton, period. You had no idea how many muscles it took to stand up without using your hands. You also had no idea how important it was to be able to get up without using them either. The faster the better.

“Need some help?” I asked him, knowing what answer he would give me.

He eyed my pants for a second then smiled. “Show them how it’s done.”

I hoped I didn’t regret this.

I eyed the floor for a second, wondered for another second when the last time I had done a handstand was—not since I had started showing while I’d been pregnant—and decided, fuck it. I’d done these a hundred thousand times in my life. If I lost my balance, so what? They were still learning how to do them.

I tucked my shirt into my pants and went into a handstand that wasn’t as steady as they once were, but at the same time my muscles said I remember this, and let the memory of it kick in.

I did them over and over and over again, until I was sweaty and my collared shirt was damp and had fallen out of where I’d tucked it into my pants and rolled into my neck each time I went into one, until eventually, Peter and I were helping one person at a time work on their handstands against the wall furthest to the back, bodies leaning against the wall until arms and shoulders shook, until sweat dripped off faces and made tiny little watery pools all over the blue surfaces. I was catching my breath when I noticed someone with a right arm that was giving out on them and stepped forward to help them out of it.

That was when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a big figure making his way across the floor in our group’s direction. The biggest man at the gym now. The biggest man in my life.

“Lenny,” Jonah Collins called out like I didn’t know it was me he wanted.

Behind him, closer to the door he’d just come in through, were the two women. The older one and the younger one. And they were looking back at me but speaking to each other. The younger one was making faces too.

“Jonah.” He didn’t owe me anything.

I forced myself to look away and glance at one of the women as she tapped her heel against the wall as she tried to push off of it and hold her balance on her own.

Mo’s dad stopped directly beside me, looking at me, and not the people still in position and said, “Could we have a moment?”

Always so polite.

I wasn’t dumb enough to ask Peter if he could handle this without me. Of course he could. He hadn’t needed me in the first place, but I still patted him on the back after I nodded at Jonah and went toward him. The second I was in front of him on the edge of the mats, his hand went to my elbow.

I didn’t say a word.

That stupid handsome and rugged face was aimed at me, and he let out just about the deepest exhale I had ever heard from his body… and that was saying something because he’d let out a pretty big one the day he’d found out he was a dad.

“You okay?” I asked him, trying to remind myself that he wasn’t a fucking liar.

He’d told me he didn’t have a girlfriend or a wife.

He hadn’t “cheated” even though there had been nothing to cheat on.

He had told me.

Those light brown eyes didn’t flicker away as he told me the truth. Like I had a feeling he always did. “I was better before you called.” His expression was tight. “Better now that I’m here talking to you.”

This was the man I thought I knew. I swallowed and gave him a little smile. Then I reached up to squeeze his forearm with my free hand, the skin smooth and warm over all that fucking muscle just there. I was relieved, and I hated that I was.

The pressure around my own elbow tightened lightly, and he said following another exhale, “My mum is here.”

Great.

The fact he didn’t exactly look happy about her visit didn’t reassure me.

“I didn’t know she was coming. Didn’t know she would bring my sister either.”

That was relief that went down my spine at my sister.

Had she grown out her hair? Was that why I hadn’t recognized her? Or had I just gotten pissed off before I’d even bothered to try and figure it out? I felt just a little ashamed of myself for jumping to conclusions. Just a little.

“It’s a bit of a story, Lenny,” he explained, oblivious to how close he’d been to finally losing his balls as he gave me a smile so tight that his dimples didn’t come out. “A long one. I didn’t tell her about Mo until a few minutes ago.”

“You still hadn’t told your mom about her?”

He shook his head gravely. “I haven’t told anyone, but not because I didn’t want them to know. I just… didn’t want them to know yet.” His dimple finally popped then. “It’s selfish, yeah, but I wanted you both to myself for a bit longer, and if it got me out of answering some questions that aren’t going to be comfortable, that was a nice bonus.”

Oh.

“She knows now, and so does my sister, and in a matter of minutes, my entire family will as well. I’ll have to call my agent as soon as I can to break the news to him too before he finds out from my brothers. He’s their agent too, and he’s still upset with me over what I did before. He’s not going to be happy to find out I have a daughter I didn’t tell him about.”

I bet he wasn’t.

I had a decent idea of how much shit he’d gotten after his injury. And unless someone knew the whole story—at least his pieces of it—it didn’t look that great for him. And as far as I knew, he hadn’t signed a new contract with a new team. It could and would, more than likely, look really bad for him.

Jonah’s expression went tight but hopeful, and all it made me want to do was whatever I could so that this wouldn’t backfire on him. “Will you come eat with us? Mum is in a foul mood, I’m sorry, but she would like to meet our girl. My sister would too.”

I swallowed that our girl.

“If you don’t want to, or can’t, it isn’t an issue,” he clarified. “I just thought….”