Millionaire Hero (Freeman Brothers 4)

“I’m not stupid Nick,” she said. “Of course I’m meeting him in public. And I will record the conversation.”

“Be careful,” I said.

“I will. I promise. And I’ll let you know as soon as I’m done.”

We got off the phone, and I knew my day was shot. I let Gabe know I was taking the rest of the day off and headed for home. For the next half an hour, I paced back and forth across my living room floor. Maybe I could figure out where she was meeting him and go there, just to be available in case something happened. I’d stay out of sight and just watch.

It wasn’t until that thought was all the way formed and I was actually headed for the door that I realized how creepy it was. I was convincing myself it would be a good idea to stalk her. And that made me realize something else.

I was in love with her.

It was something I hadn’t wanted to admit to myself. Something I didn’t think would ever happen. But there it was. The only explanation that made any sense. It was the reason behind my chest pains and the anxiety making me sweat, behind my fear for her, and the anger that she was doing this without me.

I dropped down onto the couch and buried my face in my hands. Now that the wall was down and I had come to terms with the reality that I was in love with Bryn, I had a whole new feeling. Helplessness. That was something I really hated. I was always a self-motivated, determined problem solver. Nothing stopped me or got in my way. If I wanted something done, I did it.

Until now. Now there was nothing I could do. I didn’t know where Bryn was meeting with Justin or what she was going to say to him. And I couldn’t very well call her and demand she not go, or that she stop the meeting and go home. That wasn’t my place. No matter where we were in our relationship, I couldn’t do that to her.

So, all I could do was wait around and trust that she could take care of herself.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to do something else to keep my mind off the anxiety and nervousness making my heart pound and my hands sweat. Changing my clothes, I went downstairs to the gym in my basement to get a good workout in.

The gym was considered one of the most desirable features of the home when I’d bought it. But in all honesty, it didn’t get used anywhere near as much as most people would think I would use it. I generally preferred rock climbing or at least doing something like hiking or swimming where I could be out in nature. Being outside cleared my mind and helped me feel calm. I also liked the challenge of something that wasn’t the same every time I did it.

The monotony of working out inside in the home gym didn’t appeal to me very often. I usually only relied on it when the weather was too bad for me to realistically go for a climb, or if I was too busy to dedicate the several hours it took to do a hike. At that moment, all I needed was to just expend some energy. Pounding the living hell out of a punching bag with angry music thudding in my earbuds did the trick.

When I had punched and kicked out as much of the energy as I could, I tossed aside my gloves and took a shower. I had just gotten out and gotten dressed when my phone rang. I scrambled to answer it.

“Bryn? Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Are you at home?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Where are you?”

“Can I come over?” she asked, not answering my question. From the tone in her voice, it didn’t sound like it really mattered where she was anymore.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“I’ll make something for lunch,” I said.

“I’m not hungry.”

We got off the phone, and I went to the kitchen, anyway. Even if she didn’t have any appetite, she needed to eat something. It was important for her to keep up her strength, and the baby needed the nutrition.

Taking out chicken breasts, I sliced them thin and tossed them into a hot frying pan with a little bit of olive oil, oregano, basil, and garlic. While they cooked, I washed and chopped vegetables, then got a loaf of bread from the bread box. I had gotten the French loaf from the bakery a couple days before, and it was starting to get hard, perfect for cubing up, tossing in butter, and toasting for croutons.

By the time Bryn arrived at my door, I had big bowls filled with salad and topped with the chicken and croutons. I’d also warmed up some of the amazing minestrone soup Lindsey made and I kept in my freezer all the time.