The Girl with my Heart (Summer Unplugged #8) (3 page)

BOOK: The Girl with my Heart (Summer Unplugged #8)
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Chapter 6

 

 

After lunch, a voice rises from the roar of dirt bikes, catching my attention. “Damn, they let anyone give lessons around here.”

I turn around and catch the snarky smirk of my best friend and former motocross competitor, Nolan Park. “Park, man, what’s up?” I knock my fist into his and hop off the tailgate of my truck. “And I’m not giving lessons right now, asshole.”

He laughs, adjusting his baseball hat as he takes a seat on the tailgate. I bend down and grab a soda from the ice chest on the grass. “Get one for me too,” Park says.

“Beer or soda?” I ask.

He considers the question for a few seconds longer than he should. “Soda, I guess.”

I lift an eyebrow and hand him a Coke. “Why the hesitation?”

He shrugs and stares out at the track, watching other racers zoom past. “I’m about to see Becca and I don’t want her thinking I got wasted before visiting her.”

“At two in the afternoon? Surely she doesn’t think that badly of you.”

“I’m not sure what she thinks, so I need to play it safe for now.”

“Damn,” I say, peering at him over the rim of my drink. “You’ve got it bad for this girl.”

He shrugs again. He’s been doing that a lot lately. “Yeah, I think I do.”

I down the rest of my soda and crumple the can in my fist, then toss it in the back of my truck. Bayleigh always says the bed of my truck is a graveyard for drink cans. “This is really out of character, Park. I wonder if I should have your head examined. I mean, since when does the infamous Nolan Park settle down with one lady?”

The corner of his lips lift into a smile. “I guess I’ve picked up a thing or two from my best friend.”

“You mean besides how to ride?”

He laughs, making this big dramatic show of how ridiculous I am. “Yeah right. No one taught me a damn thing. I was born with these skills.”

I nod. “Sure you were, man.”

His phone vibrates and he takes it out of his back pocket, smiling like some kid on Christmas morning when he sees who sent him a text. I shake my head. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Shut up. I’m still me. I’m just…”

“Falling for a Texas girl,” I say, supplying the rest of his sentence. Bayleigh and Becca aren’t the only two best friends who can do that. Park nods slowly, staring at the phone as if he’s looking at Becca right now.

“What is it with these Texas girls?” he says, his eyes looking off into the distance.

“Can I ask about the elephant in the room?” I say, reaching for my own cell phone. Bay has sent me a picture message. Before I check it, Park clears his throat.

“What elephant? And we’re not in a room, we’re outside.”

“You know what I mean,” I say, giving him a serious look. “I meant what I said about kicking your ass if you hurt her. She’s a great girl and she’s Bay’s best friend and I can’t let you treat her like the previous women in your life.”

“That’s the elephant in the room?” Park says, lifting an eyebrow. “I’ve already promised you I won’t hurt her.”

I shake my head. “That’s not the elephant.”

“Then what is?”

My lips press together and for a split second, I consider just dropping the subject. Park isn’t stupid. He has to know this is an issue…but I also have to make sure that Becca’s heart stays intact. She’s practically family now.

Park stares me down. “What is it, Jace?”

“She’s a Texas girl. So how will you treat her right when you live across the country?”

“Yeah, I know,” he says, hanging his head. He stares at the ground. “That’s definitely an elephant.”

Chapter 7

 

 

Natalie is waiting in my office at the end of the day. Actually, more like waiting in my desk chair. I walk into my office, exhausted and covered in sweat from a day spent training kids on the track. All I want to do is grab my keys, check some emails and get the hell back to my home with my family. But of course, thanks to John Willock and his stupid tractors, I can’t make a simple trip back to my office without being confronted by this woman.

“Why are you in here?” I ask, throwing the office door wide open as I enter what used to be my own private space. “It’s five o’clock, the work day is over.”

Natalie smiles up at me from her place in my chair, her feet resting on my desk. “My day isn’t over until my boss says it is,” she purrs, touching a finger to her bottom lip. God, it’s like she took slut lessons from some overly cliché made-for-TV movie.

“Your day’s over,” I say bluntly. “Time to go home.”

She stands up slowly, taking her time. “Would you like me to read your new emails out loud for you, Mr. Adams?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. Forget the emails. I just want to go home.

“Okay.” She’s still smiling and it annoys the hell out of me.

“You go first,” I say, as I lean against the door and motion for her to leave. “I have to lock up.”

“No worries,” she says. She digs into her pocket and retrieves a silver key. “Mr. Fisher made me a copy.”

Great. Now my own private office isn’t private. I close my eyes briefly and shake my head. “Okay, whatever. Bye.”

I turn to go but I’m stopped by a hand on my bicep. “Hold on, Mr. Adams.”

Natalie spins me around, gripping my arm with one hand. Her other hand slides up my chest and she’s hovering so closely I can smell her shampoo. “You have something…” she murmurs, leaning in close. I try to back up but hit the wall. “Right…here..” she says, pulling off the smallest little string from the neck of my shirt. “There,” she coos, smoothing her hand over my collar. “Now you’re perfect.”

“Natalie, stop.” I step into the hallway, so fucking fed up with this chick that I’m about to lose my mind. “Your job is not to pull strings off my shirt and it’s not to sit in my office chair.”

Her bottom lip pokes out. “My job is to assist you with
anything
you need.”

I grab her wrist just as she reaches for me again and I push her hand down. If she’s going to treat me like all I am is a piece of meat, then I’ll treat her with the same courtesy—by making her my maid.

“Yeah okay,” I say, stepping into the hallway. “Since you have a key to my office you can stay late and clean the place up. A vacuum and duster are in the closet down the hallway.” I tap the metal door frame with my fingers. “And don’t forget to wash the glass in my picture frames. They’re really dusty.”

Natalie’s eyes light up as if she’s actually thrilled that I just gave her a ton of things to do after closing time. “I would absolutely love to do that for you,” she says.

“Great,” I say with a straight face. I close the door behind me and head out to my truck. She might be smiling now, but if I make her job the worst one she’s ever had, maybe she’ll be forced to quit. And if not, at least I can have fun trying.

Chapter 8

 

 

When I get home, I walk straight into a weird scene: Bayleigh wearing a turquoise bathrobe and rainbow colored socks, sitting on the floor with her back against the couch. The coffee table has been shoved several feet away and in front of her, spread out all over the floor are dozens of those small free magazines you can find in front of shopping malls. Jett is sound asleep in his baby carrier next to her, dressed up in little baby jeans and a shirt. He’s even wearing shoes. Bay’s foot rocks the carrier back and forth as she works, filtering through the magazine pages, ripping some of them out and setting them in different piles.

“I feel like I’m missing something…” I say, hanging my keys up on the rack on the wall.

Bayleigh laughs. “The coffee table just wasn’t big enough so I had to get rid of it.”

I walk over to her and she throws her head backwards to kiss me. “What do we have here?” I ask, dropping to the floor next to her.

All of the magazines are covered with small square images of houses. Bayleigh draws in a deep breath and sighs. “I want a house.” She looks at me, her features all twisted and sad so I smile at her.

“I want a house, too.”

This doesn’t make her smile back.

She sighs again and shoves the magazines away. Jett starts to whimper when her foot stops rocking him so she grabs the carrier, drags it over in between us and rocks it with her hands. “I’m just tired of living in this tiny apartment.”

“Baby, we’ve talked about this. I thought we wanted to find some land and build a house like Ash and Hana did. Remember how much you liked the idea of choosing everything yourself?”

She shrugs. “I just want a house. I’m tired of putting it off.”

“Okay. Let’s get a house. Have you found anything?”

Her eyes gaze over the magazines and then she slowly looks up at me and frowns. “No.”

“What about this one?” I ask, taking a ripped out page from the floor. She’s circled a white two story house that’s on the other side of town.

“It’s too old. I can’t live in a house that’s going to have stuff breaking all the time.”

“Well you’re not the only one living in it,” I say, bumping my shoulder into hers. “I can fix stuff.”

“What if you’re not home?”

“Then you call me and I’ll come home. If it’s like an emergency water pipe breakage then call me and a plumber.”

Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “A water pipe breakage? I haven’t even thought of that! Ugh, there’s so many things that can go wrong with a house.” Her shoulders slump and she leans back against the couch. “Maybe we should just rent forever.”

“Honey, what brought this on?” I slide my hand across her shoulders. Now that I think about it, Bay has been in a terrible mood for the last few days. I lean over and kiss her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing is wrong. I just thought I would look up houses but that was a stupid idea.”

I get the feeling like this is the kind of day where anything I say will be wrong. “Why is Jett all dressed up?”

“I forgot to tell you,” she says. She leans forward and begins picking up the magazines. “My mom wanted to get him for the night. She gave me this huge guilt trip for not coming to visit her in a while and I said I didn’t feel like driving so she’s coming here instead.”

“How long is she keeping him?” I ask.

Bayleigh stands and throws the magazines into the trash can. “I don’t know, like a few hours.”

I smile because I’m getting an awesome idea. “And when will she be here?”

Bayleigh looks at the clock on the wall. “Soon.”

I jump to my feet and walk over to her, sliding my hands around her waist. “Do you know what this means?”

She rolls her eyes. “It means my mom won’t have to bitch at me for another week or so?”

“It means we can have a date night.”

“Oh,” she says with a shrug. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

“Babe, that’s not the kind of reaction I was hoping for. We haven’t been on a date in a long ass time. I can’t even remember the last time we did anything with just the two of us.”

“Last month at the Mexican Grille.” Bayleigh steps away and pulls a hair tie off her wrist. “We had that skanky waitress who couldn’t keep her stupid skank eyes off of you.”

I lift an eyebrow. “I thought we had a good time?”

She snorts. “Yeah, I’m sure you had a good time! Who wouldn’t have a good time when some bimbo flirts with you all night?”

“Baby, you have to tell me what’s wrong. I honestly can’t even remember the waitress so I’m pretty sure she wasn’t flirting with me.”

She pulls her hair back into a messy bun. “You get flirted with so much that you’re probably just so used to it that you don’t even notice it anymore.”

She stare at the floor as she talks and I’m just so fed up with how she’s been treating me the last few days. I don’t mean to shout, but I do. “Bayleigh, stop!”

Her eyes go wide and the baby makes a noise from his carrier and I immediately feel like shit for talking to her that way. I sigh and lower my eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell I’m just…”

She folds her arms in front of her chest. “Well?”

“I’m just worried about you babe. I’m worried about us. It feels like you’re mad at me and I don’t know what for.”

I pause, hoping she’ll jump into the conversation, tell me she’s not mad at me and make me feel better but she doesn’t. She just stands there, arms crossed over her chest, staring at me with a blank expression on her face. I reach up and touch her cheek. “Bayleigh, I don’t know why you’re so mad at me. I love you so much and I would never do anything to hurt you. At least not on purpose. What’s wrong?”

She’s silent for a moment and the only sound in the room is Jett making little baby noises from his carrier on the floor. Finally after what feels like hours, she reaches up and covers my hand with hers. When she meets my gaze there are tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “You haven’t done anything wrong…it’s…it’s me.”

My heart stops cold in my chest. “What have you done wrong?” I ask, suddenly terrified to know the answer. Bayleigh wouldn’t cheat on me—there’s no way. Our love is strong. At least I think it is.

She swallows and shakes her head. “It’s not like that,” she says, taking a step forward to close the distance between us. Her head leans against my chest and I wrap my arms around her, holding her close to me. “I haven’t done anything baby…I can’t believe you would think that.” She chuckles with her face buried against my shirt.

Hearing her laughter puts my mind at ease, but only a little. I pull back, lightly holding her face in my hands so I can look at her. “Honey please tell me what’s wrong.”

For a split second I think she’s about to tell me.

And then the doorbell rings.

We break apart and Bayleigh wipes her eyes, drying them. “Will you get his diaper bag from his room?”

“Sure,” I say, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead before dashing off to Jett’s room. She lets her mom inside and when I return to the living room Bayleigh is all smiles, cooing at Jett and updating her mom about some girly television show they both watch. It’s as if she wasn’t the least bit upset a few minutes ago.

“Hey, Ms. Maize,” I say. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, dear,” she says, pulling me into a hug. “I should get going soon because it’s about to storm out there. I’d like get home before it does.”

“It is?” Bayleigh says, rushing to the window and peeking out through the blinds. “Is it safe for you to bring him back home later?”

I check the radar on my phone. “Yeah, it’ll blow over in an hour or two. You’re good,” I say to Bay’s mom who seems all to relieved to have the green light to take Jett. Bayleigh bites her bottom lip.

“Drive save, Mom,” she says. It’s the same warning tone she uses every time I take the baby somewhere. In her eyes, no one can be too careful when caring for Jett.

“Do you guys have plans?” Ms. Maize asks. I hand her the diaper bag which she slings over her shoulder and she takes the carrier in both hands.

“We’re going on a date,” Bayleigh says, a twinkle of light in her eyes. I can’t even put into words how great that makes me feel. Whatever happened between the time her mom got here and now, I’m grateful for it. My wife is in a much better mood.

We take turns kissing the baby goodbye and then suddenly, for the first time in a month, we are alone.

“Ready for that date?” I ask. I know better than to question her sudden mood change.

Bayleigh throws her arms up, gesturing to her purple bathrobe. “I’ll be ready in like ten minutes.”

I roll my eyes. “Since when are you ever ready in just ten minutes?”

She throws a playful punch at my stomach. “Fine, twenty minutes.”

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