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1
Rebecca didn’t have a clear plan when she left the house, other than to get the hell away. Before she had a chance to burn the place down with Rupert inside.
Now, in a quiet pub and three drinks in, she’d moved on to fantasizing about the ways she could destroy Rupert the way he’d done to her. They were still mostly violent fantasies, but they all left the bastard alive to rot in his misery.
“Mrs. Mannion.”
Rebecca looked up at the man sliding into the booth across from her. “Roy Kent. Call me Rebecca.”
He nodded and tipped his beer in her direction. “Rebecca. What’s that bastard done this time?”
“You mean your boss?” she asked, reluctantly amused by Richmond’s new captain.
“He’s a fucking arsehole,” Roy said, eyebrows raised like he was daring her to disagree. When she didn’t, he went on. “And here you are, drinking by yourself and looking ready to fucking murder someone, so what’s the bastard done?”
She couldn’t hold in the inelegant snort at his blunt assessment, but worse was the tears that pricked at her eyes immediately after. “You mean you haven’t seen the press?”
“Fuck no. They’re all fucking vultures. I don’t follow that shit.”
“Not even when they talk about you?” Rebecca blinked back her tears to raise her eyebrows at the man.
Of course they weren’t nearly so impressive as the monstrosities he raised right back. “What the fuck for? I already know the shit they print that’s actually true, and the rest is bullshit anyway.” He rolled his eyes and took a drink of his beer, then raised one shoulder as his lips twitched. “Besides, my sister shoves the most annoying ones in my face anyway.”
Rebecca’s smile in response was almost sincere.
Roy watched her quietly for a second. “Look, you can tell me to fuck off if you want, but you can also tell me what’s got you upset.”
It was hardly a secret anyway. “Rupert’s been cheating on me. For years, evidently, and with a string of younger, prettier women.” She blinked against the tears again. “And I found out from the fucking papers.”
“Oi.” Roy leaned forward, his gaze intent on hers. “First of all, I told you he’s a fucking arsehole, and if you want, I’d be happy to bash his fucking face in. And second.” He gestured at her, eyebrows intent. “You are fucking gorgeous and if he can’t see that, he never fucking deserved you to begin with.”
This time the tears escaped despite her best efforts, but she managed a shaky smile all the same. “Thank you, Roy.”
He grunted and gave a small nod. “So what are you gonna do?”
“I’ll divorce the bastard, to start.”
“Good girl.”
She didn’t know why his gruff approval felt so lovely. “I’ll have to find somewhere else to stay, but that can wait. I have a hotel for the night.”
He nodded. “Need a lift?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
2
“I need a drink,” Rebecca groaned as soon as she sat across from Roy, then laughed when he wordlessly pushed a martini glass across the table to her. “How’d you know?”
“You said you had a meeting with the lawyers today. Obviously the fucker wasn’t gonna make this easy.”
“Obviously.” Rebecca sighed, then sipped at the martini. She shouldn’t have been surprised that Roy remembered what she liked to drink, but every time she saw him scowling at someone at Nelson Road, she forgot the man she’d been getting to know since their first encounter at the pub. “I expected a fight, but I thought it’d be about the assets. Why’s the wanker acting like he still wants to be married to me when he barely looked at me the last few years of our marriage?”
Roy grunted and passed her a menu. “Say the fucking word and I’ll knock his teeth out for you.”
“He’s still your boss,” Rebecca reminded him, not without a hint of regret. It would be quite gratifying to watch.
“And I’m still Roy fucking Kent,” Roy said with a shrug. “I could go to any other fucking club I wanted if the bastard’s stupid enough to get rid of me.”
Rebecca chuckled. “It’s good that you know your worth, Kent.”
“You fucking too,” Roy said, setting his menu aside. “He was stupid enough to cheat on you, and you can go fucking anywhere and have fucking anyone you like now. Fuck him.”
“Fuck him,” Rebecca repeated, lifting her drink in a toast. Roy smirked and clinked his glass with hers.
Once they’d both drunk, though, she sighed. “I had rather hoped to get through this divorce business quickly, but he seems determined to drag it out. I don’t want to waste any more of my life on him, Roy.”
“Then fucking don’t. You’ve moved out, now move on and let the lawyers deal with the bastard. Go do whatever the fuck you wanted that you couldn’t do with him.”
“I think it may be a bit late for that,” Rebecca said with a wry smile. Then she picked up her menu and stared at it intently, not quite able to bring herself to hide behind it but certainly prepared to pretend it was her sole focus.
Roy was a stubborn bastard, though, and once the waiter had taken their orders he simply watched her with a raised eyebrow. He’d let it drop if she asked, but honestly she needed the time to mourn the idea.
“I’ve always wanted children,” she confessed to the table. “Rupert never did, but he made it seem like we just needed to wait… and now I’m afraid I’ve waited too long. I’ve just turned 40, Roy. And even if I still could, I don’t think I want to do it by myself.”
“That’s shit,” Roy said, gently gripping her hand. “I’m sorry. But if you decide you want to, you’ll be fucking amazing at it, okay?”
“Thank you, Roy.”
3
“Alright, what’s the fucking emergency?” Roy asked once she’d let him into her flat.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Rebecca admitted, dropping onto her sofa.
Roy sat next to her. “Try at the fucking beginning.”
She swatted at his arm. “It isn’t that simple. More a matter of bad news and complicated news.” It shouldn’t have been complicated, it should have been wonderful, but of course Rupert had to make everything complicated.
“Then start with the bad news. What’s going on?”
“There have been pictures of the two of us,” she said, unlocking her phone to show him. “Dinner the other night, out walking, a few others. None of them have run yet, but I don’t know how long I can keep them back.”
“So fucking what?” Roy asked, though his eyebrows rose at the picture of him holding her hand at the restaurant the week before. “You can’t have fucking friends now?”
“You know they’ll say we’ve been having an affair, make a huge scandal out of it. Rupert’s wife and the captain of his football club fucking behind his back?”
Roy snorted. “When he’s been fucking multiple women behind your back for years?”
“The press are already making it seem like my fault that he’s been cheating, Roy. If this comes out, it’ll look like proof. And he’ll target you, too, you know.”
“Don’t worry about me. What’s the other news, then?”
Rebecca pressed her lips together. “I’m pregnant.”
“Yeah?” He gathered her into a hug. “Congratulations! You wanted this, yeah?”
“I did, but…” How to say it? “Rupert didn’t want children, but if he knows the baby’s his, he’ll use that to drag this fight out even longer, probably sue for visitation at the least… I don’t want him involved.”
“If he knows it’s his?” Roy repeated, brows furrowed, hands warm on her shoulders. “Why wouldn’t he know?”
“We hadn’t slept together for months before I left. That night was a last-ditch effort, but he was already drunk when he got home. It was awful sex, but it was enough. I’m certain he doesn’t remember. But he’s the only man I’ve been with.”
Roy was silent for a moment, his eyes going to her phone.
“Roy, no.” But she’d thought it, too.
“If people think you and I are together, he won’t suspect the baby’s his?”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Then tell me you don’t want me to.”
“Roy.”
He watched her steadily. “Rebecca. Tell me to fuck off and I will.”
“He will be awful to you.”
“I can fucking handle him. Rebecca.”
She stared down at her hands. “I wouldn’t ask anything of you.”
“I would.” For once he sounded nervous. “You can tell me to fuck off, but if we’re saying I’m the father, I want to be the father. I won’t be the reason they don’t know their dad.”
They should both take more time to think about it, but Rebecca already knew what her answer would be.
+1
When she moved out of Rupert’s house, the last thing Rebecca expected was to move into another man’s house less than six weeks later. ‘Never’ would’ve been closer to the timeline she anticipated.
But she and Roy had decided that it made sense for them to live together if they were going to be raising a baby, and Roy already owned his house and had been there for years. She’d wanted to see it before agreeing to the move, but she had to admit that while it was obviously expensive in a way she’d expect from a professional footballer, it was also homey in a way hers and Rupert’s had never really been.
The furniture was comfortable and practical, and the whole house bore evidence of Roy’s four-year-old niece. Watching him with Phoebe had been the final reassurance she needed to agree to raise her baby with him.
Still, two days in, and she was bored. She didn’t need a man to entertain her, but Roy was good company.
And anyway, she’d had a thought she desperately wanted to explore.
By the time Roy walked through the front door, she’d gone back and forth with her plan far too many times and had settled on his sofa to stop herself pacing a hole in the floor.
Roy shut the door behind him, then paused, head cocked as he studied her. “What’s going on with you?”
It was a bit of a thrill that he already knew her well enough to tell she had something on her mind. Rupert rarely cared enough to ask, if he even noticed. “I’ve had an idea.”
“Go on, then.”
“The photos are out, people are already talking about us. I’ve moved in with you. We’re committed to this plan.”
“I’d fucking say so, yeah.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched her, waiting.
“I should probably have had sex with the father of my child, don’t you think?”
Roy’s lips tilted into a pleased little smirk. “You asking me for a shag, Rebecca?”
“Not if you’re not interested, of course. But everyone will be assuming we already have, and I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”
“No reason not to,” Roy agreed, taking his leather jacket off.
Rebecca stood and brushed off her skirt, smiling at the way his eyes followed her hands. “I haven’t had a good fuck in years, Roy. And I’ve heard enough stories to believe that you are an exceptionally good fuck.”
“Listening to the press again, are you?” He walked over and settled his hands on her hips.
“Are they wrong about this?” she asked, sliding her hands up his shoulders.
“Depends on the stories.” He leaned forward, and she pulled back for just a second.
“I don’t mean for this to be romantic, you know. Seems too complicated with everything else.”
He nodded, eyes intent on hers. “Sure. Just a nice fuck between friends.”
“Co-parents.”
“With benefits?”
They were both smiling as he leaned in to kiss her.