“Ex-wife.” Brendon corrected, his smile fading. But instead of attacking, he stepped back and opened the door wider. “Right, right, Layton. I recognize you now. Of course, come on in.”
Chase blinked and hesitated. Not the reception he’d expected at all. He kept his guard up, ready to dodge a fist. Or duck a bullet.
Brendon called to someone else. “Sweetheart, can you pull out another wineglass? We’ve got a guest.” He tipped his head in the direction of the house. “Come on, come on.”
Chase stepped into the foyer. Brendon closed the door and wandered deeper into the house, allowing Chase to take a breath of relief.
“Who is it, hun?” a female voice came from somewhere inside the house. Close. First floor. Not Lila.
“Chase Layton,” Brendon told her. “You know, one of Lila’s exes.”
“Oh.” A gorgeous blonde stepped into view, also in shorts, T-shirt, and bare feet. Her smile was wide and warm and welcoming. “Then he probably needs something stiffer than wine.”
Brendon joined the woman in laughter. “You’re so right, love. Let’s open the whole damn bar.”
Chase followed Brendon, wandering into an open area that included the kitchen, dining room, and living room beyond. The floor-to-ceiling glass on one wall offered an amazing view of the hills surrounding the property.
“Have a seat, mate.”
Chase slipped his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. “No thank you, this won’t take long.”
“Everything concerning Lila takes a fucking lifetime. Relax.”
Chase had a feeling Brendon was right, so he slid onto a kitchen stool. He also took the glass of wine the woman offered. Because, yeah, he was pretty damn sure he’d need it.
Zahara reread the eighteen-page crib assembly instructions for the fourth time—and she didn’t understand them any better than the first.
A flutter in her belly drew her hand, and she rubbed the sixteen-week swell. “What are your thoughts on a laundry basket, kid?”
The baby kicked.
“That’s what I thought.” She sighed and pulled out her laptop. “Okay, let’s go with plan B.”
With the sun streaming in through the open patio doors, the sea breeze wafting through the living room, Zahara pulled up YouTube and searched crib assembly videos. Within minutes, she was overwhelmed.
Her phone chimed, and she gladly reached for the distraction. It was a text from Lexi.
Turn on Channel 12, Good Morning LA.
Zahara reached for the remote. She used to love the fact that she had this big house all to herself during the week. It was a haven of luxury and beauty and serenity. She lived on a gorgeous beach every day, and fell asleep to the sound of the waves every night. But since she’d stopped working, it had become an isolation chamber. She clamored for time with Jax and Lexi when they returned home on the weekends, as well as the Renegades crew, always here for some kind of cookout.
When she finally clicked over to channel 12, Zahara found Chase’s handsome face on the screen. Her heart jumped. The baby rolled.
He wore a navy blazer and a crisp white button-down with inky worn jeans. His hair was gelled, and a day of scruff darkened his jaw.
He looked mouthwatering.
She was still torn over pushing him away. Hated that he was missing out on the excitement of watching and feeling the baby grow. But reminded herself he’d made the decisions that had led to her own.
“Chase,” the female half of the morning couple said, “can you give us some insight on what happened between you and Lila Carson? That was a whirlwind of controversy.”
Chase’s smile faded, and he turned serious. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for asking, June. I’m glad to finally be able to set the record straight.”
“Oh,” Zahara said, bracing herself for bullshit. “This ought to be good.”
He pressed one elbow to the chair, his expression thoughtful. “When Lila and I parted ways last year, we remained friends, so when she came to me for help, I did what I could to get her out of a tight spot.”
“Pretending to reunite,” June clarified.