It’ll be good having a cause to work together on instead of being at odds all the time.
“I think a carwash could be more lucrative than the typical bake sale.”
Ainsley’s eyes roll as her usual scowl clicks back into place.
I spoke too soon.
“Young girls washing a car?” She plants a hand on her hip. “Of course, you’d think of that.”
Disgust pinches my features. “Excuse me? I was thinking about the price of detailing a car, and all the add-ons we could include. Not the kids in bikinis washing the cars with their tits.”
“See? That’s where your mind went, which is exactly what the people in this town will think.” She crosses her arms. “I won’t exploit these young women just for some cash.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “They can wear whatever they want—oversized T-shirts, their uniforms, a snowsuit for all I care. Why are you making this into a sexist thing?”
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “We always have a bake sale.”
“Which is exactly why we should change it up this year.” I stuff my hands in my pockets. “We can even have the bake saleatthe car wash. Double our chances for money.”
Ainsley is quiet for a moment, her eyes bouncing between mine. Then she shocks the shit out of me and says, “Okay.”
“Okay, as in, you like the idea?”
She slides her sunglasses onto her face and swings herself into the driver’s seat without saying anything.
I grin.Yeah, she likes the idea.
This will be a positive step in the right direction for us, working toward the same goal.
For once.
Chapter 15
Ainsley
“Dear God, she’s stretching.”
I glare at Ivori from behind my sunglasses. “It’s a 5k, not a walk around the block.”
“Say cheese.” She holds up her phone.
And I hold up my middle finger.
Ivori cackles. “You’re awfully cranky for someone who lucked out with absolutely flawless weather today.”
“I know.” I tilt my face toward the sun. “A beautiful spring day.”
I glance around the boardwalk, taking in the sea of people as they chat and pin bib numbers onto their loved ones’ shirts. The waves crash on the shoreline, a perfect backdrop for the race. I suck in a lungful of crisp salty air.
Miss you, Dad.
The announcer’s voice cuts through my thoughts, calling everyone to the starting line. The local radio station does a live broadcast from the boardwalk every year for the fundraiser.
Ivori holds out her palm, and I slap mine in hers so she can pull me up. We head to the front of the line, beside Evan and his son, Lucas.
“Thanks for being here, Luke.” I bump my fist against his.
“Wouldn’t miss it, Aunt Ainsley.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Rest of the team is here too.”
