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Unknown: Thanks, asshat.
I chuckle, knowing it’s her. No one else would call me an asshat and demand anything from me. They’d kiss my ass and ask for instructions on what to do next.
Sure enough, when I step outside and look to the edge of the player’s parking, where our lot meets the public access area, I’m met with Avery’s angry glare. I make my way to her, then open the gate for her to step into the restricted area. Her hair is a mess. Her clothes are dusty. She’s never looked more beautiful, and I have to smile at her frustration as she zones in on me.
“What’s going on?” I ask to her further dismay.
“That was my very question earlier this evening. And of all the ways I could have spent the remainder of my Monday, cleaning up my parents’ store for a damn event that I had no clue was even happening wasnowhereon my list.”
“I should’ve—”
“No, you shouldn’t haveanything.” Her frustration morphs into full-blown anger as she squares up to me. “You can mess with my job, screw around with my feelings, but the moment you start jacking with my family, you’ve crossed the line.”
Ouch. She’smadmad. “I’m notjackingwith your family. And it wasn’t my intention to mess with your job or screw with your feelings, although I’m glad to know I’ve hadsomeeffect on the latter.” God knows she’s twisted mine all to hell. I’m so clearly screwed up, some random woman in a bar called me out on it. Jesus.
“Why would you schedule a signing at a feed store—my parents’ location, of all places?”
Joe thought it was a little off too, but he didn’t question it for a second as he was relieved that I was finally willing to agree to the event voluntarily after he’d been asking to schedule for the last few months. “Local businesses benefit from the publicity, and your dad seemed to be happy about it.”
“Yes, because he doesn’t know it’s only all about the challenge for you.” She moves to walk around me, but I step in front of her, backing her into the wall as she stares up to me.
“My only challenge is getting those hazel eyes out of my mind.” She remains silent, so I seize the opportunity to explain. “Despite your low opinion of me, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt your parents’ business. It’s an event that we’ll mutually benefit from. I’ll provide everything needed. It won’t cost your parents anything and should bring in more customers. It’s a win-win.” Except maybe it’s not. Maybe I’ll never win with her. Because nothing I do in her eyes doesn’t have hidden motives.
“My parents built that store from the ground up. If you do anything to sabotage them, I will hurt you.”
I have no doubt that she could. Deeply. “You won’t have to. My intentions are honorable, even if their daughter thinks the worst of me.”
“She doesn’t know what to think.” Her voice fades out as she tilts her face away from me, and I step back.
“Night, Lowe. Night, Avery,” Brooks calls, giving us a friendly wave as he grins. I’m guessing his view of the situation is skewed because this isn’t a good visit like I’d hoped for when he was giving my drunk ass a pep talk the other night.
Her guard is immediately back up and fastening securely in place. “Who is that and how the hell does he know my name?”
“Brooks. Third baseman.” Damn good advice giver just needs a better execution. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat or something?”
She quickly shakes her head, moving to make her usual escape. “It’s late, and I have to be at work early.”
Silently, I watch as she hurries back into the empty public parking lot before hopping into a black Ford truck and speeding off.
Grabbing my phone, I shoot off a quick message.
Me: Please make sure everything goes smoothly Thursday. It’s important that it does.
Joe: Got it. All you have to do is show up. Don’t worry.
Usually that would be the case, but I’ve already confirmed with Avery’s dad that I’ll be there early on Thursday to help set up.
Walking to my truck, I drop into the driver’s seat and commute the few miles to my house. Stepping inside the kitchen, I’m met with silence. What must it have been like to grow up with a house full of siblings and parents who were actually around?
Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, I add her number as a contact, thankful to have a connection to her, even if she does hate me at the moment. I risk the fact that she might respond to my text by calling me another choice name, but I type in the message anyway.
Me: Good night, Avery.
Three dots indicate she’s typing for several seconds before the message finally comes through.
Avery: Night, Carter.
I’m guessing it wasn’t the original message she typed out, but I log it as a W tonight.
