“If you can’t move forward, this won’t work. Maybe it was meant to be. Now you’re here, and you can have full access to my life. Who’s the lucky one now?”
“I’ll do what I have to do to build my business. Count me in.” She rolled her eyes. “Stay here. I’ll get your food.”
I pulled myself together while I waited.
I’d never wanted to open my life to the world. To open myself up that way.
I’d prided myself on keeping my life private.
Separate from football.
She came back immediately and handed me the bag. “So, how does this work?”
“Are you available tomorrow morning to start?”
“I am. I can work on Breen’s story outside of our work hours.”
I handed her my phone. “Put in your number. I’ll text you where to meet me for our run tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, I’m running with you now?”
“Do you want to see what I do? The work I put in? All of it?”
“I do.”
“I’ll text you the time. How are you getting home?”
“What?” she hissed.
“Watch your back with that guy.”
“Careful, Captain. You almost seem like you care,” she said, backing away with a cocky grin on her face.
“In your dreams, sweetheart.”
I made my way to the front of the restaurant before bumping into Lionel, who always seemed to find me every time I came to pick up my food.
“Mr. Hendrix. Um, hi. Er, hello, sir. I thought I saw you come in.”
I tried not to laugh. He was always tripping over his words. “Relax, Lionel. You can call me Lincoln. Brinkley’s brother owns this place, right?”
“Hugh? Yeah. He’s my boss.”
“Is he around, by any chance?” I asked. I didn’t know why I was so concerned about her. She wasn’t my problem. Hell, I hardly knew the woman.
Well, she was technically working for me now.
The least I could do was make sure she was okay.
“Yep. He’s in the kitchen. Do you want me to go get him?” He looked thrilled that I was asking him for something, which was somewhat humorous.
“That would be great. It’ll just take a minute.”
What the fuck was I doing? Lionel hurried off just as a teenage girl that was always standing behind the hostess stand approached me.
“You’re the football player, right? Henry Lincoln?”
“Lincoln Hendrix.”
“I’m Brandy, Lionel’s girlfriend,” she said with a wide grin on her face. “He’s a super fan, I guess. He can’t stop talking about you. So, I wanted to see if maybe you could help me out with a surprise for his birthday? It’s our senior year, so I want to make it extra special.”
Welcome to small-town living. Normally, I’d avoid interactions like this, but here in Cottonwood Cove, it was just the norm.
“What type of surprise?”
“Well, Lionel is the kicker for our high school football team.”
I wasn’t expecting that. I hadn’t guessed the kid was an athlete, but that was the thing. You never knew what someone had inside them. Hell, I was a scrawny kid once, too.
“I didn’t know that. Good for him.”
“I thought maybe you and I could plan a surprise out on the high school football field. He just played his last season and was hoping to play in college, but he hasn’t been recruited yet. I know he misses it already. So, I was going to do a picnic out on the football field and bring cupcakes, and I thought maybe you could come out and surprise him. Throw the ball to him a few times. Watch him kick a few touchdowns.”
“Field goals?” I corrected her because she clearly didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
“Po-tay-toe. Po-tah-toe. I’m not a sporty girl. But I do love Lionel. And I think it would probably be the best gift I could give him.” She shrugged. “Well, we’ve already done the deed, and I think that’s going to be tough to beat.” She waggled her brows.
Was I in some kind of small-town twilight zone? Why the fuck was she telling me this?
But go, Lionel. Good for him.
“Yeah. Tell me the day and time to be there, and I’ll show up.”
Why was I agreeing to do this?
“Next Tuesday. Seven p.m. Cottonwood Cove High School football field.” She quickly wrote the information on a piece of paper and folded it up before squealing the highest pitch known to man. I was certain windows were shattering everywhere within a ten-mile radius and dogs were running for cover.
I slipped the paper into my back pocket and nodded.
“You won’t regret this, Jimi Hendrix.”
For fuck’s sake.
“Yeah. You got it.”
I turned around just as a tall man with long, dark hair walked toward me.
He wasn’t smiling, and I wondered if he knew that I was the guy who’d gotten his sister fired.
I didn’t have siblings. I didn’t know what people shared with one another when it came to that kind of stuff.
But as he closed the gap and his gaze narrowed, I was fairly certain he knew.
“I’m Hugh Reynolds. How can I help you?” He crossed his arms over his chest. The man stood eye level to me, and we were similar in size, which wasn’t the norm, considering I was a big dude.
“Hey. I’m Lincoln Hendrix. I just wanted to give you a heads-up about the guy with your sister over there.” I’d never been this guy. I didn’t get involved in other people’s business because I didn’t like people to get in mine. But I couldn’t help this burning need to make sure that she was okay.
Maybe it was guilt over what had happened between us weeks ago.
I didn’t know.
But I’d always been a man who trusted my gut.
“I know who you are. I’m a big fan, actually. Well, that is until you got my sister fired and she condemned us all to a life of hating you.” He raised a brow and smirked. “And now you’re concerned about her?”
Obviously, they were close.
I ran a hand down my face. “I didn’t know I got her fired. I was pissed that she followed me into that bathroom. It was a dick thing to do. I tried to get her her job back, but she wouldn’t take it.”
He chuckled, his lips turning up in the corners. “That’s Brinks for you. She beats to her own drum. It was time for her to move on. Her old boss was a real dickhead. And we’re glad to have her back home for now anyway.”
“She’s going to start shadowing me tomorrow, and she’ll be the first one to break the news about where I’m going to play next season,” I said, and I didn’t know why I was saying so much to this guy.
“Really? She hadn’t shared that with me.”
“I just spoke to her, and we agreed on it. She still hates me, but I think her work is more important to her than her dislike for me.”
“I see. And you’re concerned about Breen Lockhart?” he asked, and there was humor in his tone now.
“He’s a dick.”
“Wow. Tell me how you really feel.” He smirked.
“Listen, you don’t know me. I got your sister fired. She hates me.” I shrugged as I glanced across the restaurant to see Brinkley laughing at the table where she sat across from Breen. “I understand that you have no reason to listen to me. I just don’t trust the guy, and I want to make sure she gets home safely.”