Full Count (Cessna U Wildcats Book 3)

by Kimberly Readnour

  He scans the room. “You’re doing a great job. Sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”

  “You’re here now. Don’t worry. There’s still plenty of work left to do.”

  We get busy. Garret grabs a roller and starts working beside me, a hint of unease settling between us. Or maybe it’s just me and my paranoia.

  “How’s Noah’s ankle?” I ask.

  “He’ll be okay. Luckily, it was only a mild sprain, but Coach won’t let him practice.” He winces. “I feel like it’s my fault. Braxton and I were just talking about injuries.”

  “It’s not as if saying the word conjures it to happen.”

  “I don’t know. We had talked about it and look what happened.”

  “Baseball players and their superstitions.” I laugh. “But I’m glad he’ll be okay, though. Ankles are sort of vital joints for catchers.”

  “Just a tad.” He stands back, inspecting his work. “I need to go over this again. I didn’t cover all the knockdown texture.” When he applies the roller again, he laughs. It’s a welcoming sound, easing the tension. “This reminds me of the time I helped my dad.”

  My breath hitches. Garret never talks about his family. I concentrate on painting. The last thing I want to do is cause him to clam up. Not when he’s finally opening up a tad. “Yeah?”

  “He had a side job and needed help on the weekend. Full disclosure, I was fourteen and way too cocky. The last place I wanted to be was at a construction site.”

  “Do I want to know what happened?”

  “He set me up in a spare bedroom while he went to work down the hall. I had a simple job—paint. Once the primer was applied, I got antsy, waiting for it to dry. I turned the paint stick into a bat and acted like I was Babe Ruth.”

  I smile at that. “The Legend did have a large bat.”

  “Hell, yeah. So, there I am, picturing hitting homers when the end of the pole smacks right into the wall. Luckily, no one heard it, but it caused a gouge in the knockdown.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yeah. But remember”—Garret pounds his chest—“cocky fourteen year old. A hole in the knockdown, no big deal, right? I had the ingenious idea to fix it. All I needed was plaster and an edge to knock it off. I figured if I blended it enough, no one would notice.”

  “And you couldn’t get the knockdown right?” I guessed.

  “Worse. I grabbed the plaster, but as I mixed it and applied it to the wall, I knew something was off. It turned to stone before I could get it smoothed down.”

  “What happened?”

  “It turns out, the homeowners were into sculpting. Unbeknownst to me, they had moved some of their supplies in the room. One being Plaster of Paris, which is not the same type of plaster.”

  My shoulders shake from laughing. “Oh my God, that’s not the same at all. So, you had a sculpture on the wall?”

  “It was a mess.”

  “How’d your dad take it?”

  “Naturally, he was mad, but he never yelled. He had to pay to have it redone, but he told me it was a good lesson in never assuming.” He drops his voice. “And to always ask when over your head.”

  “He sounds like a good dad.”

  “He’s the best.” His eyes grow distant. “I owe them a lot. That’s part of the reason I’d like to win the D. I. C. K. award. A guaranteed job at graduation would help tremendously.”

  “It really would,” I agree. “It just sucks that we’re competing against each other.”

  He stops painting and turns toward me. “It really does. But one of us better win the damn thing.”

  I go to respond, but Grant pops his head through the door.

  “The food has arrived. If you’re at a good stopping point, I’d take advantage of it.”

  “Will do. We’ll be right there.”

  His whistle fills the air as he goes to inform the other crew members. Garret takes my paint roller and places it with his. He wraps plastic around them.

  “Grant said Marco’s cousin owns a food truck specializing in Mexican food and is catering today.”

  “Sounds good. I’m starved. Coach had us run sprints, and I swear I’m ten times hungrier after that.”

  We step into the kitchen, and the lunch spread covers the island. An assortment of chicken enchiladas and tacos along with Spanish rice and refried beans line the temporary plywood countertops.

  “Wow, this is amazing.” Garret doesn’t waste time, grabbing a plate and digging in. When our plates are full, we head outside. Most of the people crowd the two picnic tables in the far corner of the concrete patio, but Garret and I hang back on the back porch.

  “Mmm, this is wonderful,” I say when I take a bite of the enchiladas. “I’d say the food is the best part of volunteering, but that would be a lie.”

  “Yeah? What do you deem the best part?”

  “Seeing the project leader hand over the keys to the family. They invest their time in helping build, but when everything’s done and they hold the keys to their brand-new home for the first time, their pride is almost palpable.” I sigh heavily. “It’s a beautiful sight to witness.”

  I draw my gaze to Garret. The look he pins me with unsettles and enraptures me at the same time. It’s a warring of wills pushing him away but pulling him near. A stuttering breath pushes past my lips as heat flickers in his gaze, the golden flecks in his irises alight with desire. It’s too much given everything that has happened.

  “Hopefully, I’ll be able to be here.”

  “The dedication ceremony takes place in March, but I’ll get ahold of you.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Needing to refocus, I change topics. “Have you applied to any grad schools yet?”

  He blows out an annoyed breath. “Not yet. I’m still working on my CV. That’s a lot harder to write than I realized.”

  “It’s not fun. If you need help, let me know. But don’t wait too long before applying.”

  “Most applications aren’t due until December, right?”

  “Sure, but haven’t you ever heard the early bird gets the worm?”

  “Okay, smartass. I get it.” His tone is lighthearted, but his voice doesn’t match his eyes. Something’s off. I’ve always gotten the impression his heart isn’t in architecture, even though he swears it is.

  “I just did another walkthrough. The room is looking great,” Grant says, coming up behind us. “Thanks again for keeping us on schedule. The Milkeys will be thrilled.”

  “No problem.” I stand and collect Garret’s plate. “I think that’s our cue to get working.”

  It doesn’t take long to finish the remaining walls. The conversation is light, mainly talking about our project. I apply the last stroke and step back. Garret steps beside me as we admire the walls.

  “This looks good,” Garret says.

  “Once we put the second coat on, this color will look richer.” The light beige is starting to grow on me.

  “You did a great job.”

  “You helped.” I bend down to clean the paintbrushes and rollers. Garret squats beside me.

  “You did the majority of the work. As always.”

  Silence follows as we concentrate on the task. We’re wrapping plastic around the brushes when his question comes out of nowhere.

  “So, you and Kyle?”

  I bite my lip, trying hard not to let the hurt in his voice get to me. Garret is the one who pushed me toward asking Kyle out. Unknowingly, of course, but what did he expect would happen when he told me nothing could become of us?

  “What about Kyle and me?” I ask, caution in my voice.

  “Are you two dating?”

  “No. We have fun together, but we’re mainly friends.”

  Expecting my answer to appease him, I’m surprised when his body tenses. “Any kind of benefits going on there?”

  I pause what I’m doing, irritation slamming into me. Did Garret just ask if Kyle and I were fucking? At warp speed, I wrap the plastic around my brush an
d stand. Garret raises to full height, towering over me. Placing my hand to my hips, I lift my chin to meet his eyes. “Would that be your concern if there were benefits?”

  There’s a small tic to his jaw, and I know I struck a nerve. But once again. He pushed me away. He wanted this.

  “I don’t like it.” His words are barely audible, but according to the little flip my heart just did, I hear them just fine.

  “Last I checked, you and I were just friends.”

  “I still don’t like it.” His voice comes across garbled and strained. This man is both frustrating and exhilarating. He acts as if wanting me is a crime. As if it physically pains him to admit he wants me. He steps closer, and I curse my heart for ticking faster.

  “You don’t have to like it. You just have to get used to it.” I stand my ground, refusing to budge.

  He grabs my arms and pulls me against his chest. Heat flares in his eyes as he holds me captive. “You drive me insane. I can’t stand seeing you with anyone who isn’t me.”

  “But you don’t want me.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I want you. I just shouldn’t have you. There’s a difference.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Conflict lies heavy in his eyes. “Fuck, Lexie. What are you doing to me?” He dips his head, and I want this kiss so badly. But I can’t. Not like this. Not when so many questions surround us. I place my hand on his chest right as his lips brush against mine, and I pull away. His hold loosens, but he gives me a questionable look.

  “Tell it to me straight, Garret. Do you have a girlfriend?”

  He hesitates. Fucking hesitates. Pain slices my chest, shredding the last bit of hope I held. I’m about to bolt when his “no” pins me in place.

  I want to believe him. It’s not in Garret’s nature to blatantly lie. He’s private, sure, but he isn’t a liar. But then why did he hesitate? I summon my courage and breathe out the question,

  “Who’s Livvy?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Garret

  Current Day

  “Who’s Livvy?”

  Fuck. My blood runs cold as my past collides with my present. I’ve tried so hard to hide the ugly side of me. That selfishness I don’t want anyone to see. I’ve done everything asked of me. How the hell does she know my girl’s name?

  “You know about Livvy?” I ask, trying to bide time to get myself out of this mess. Those honey-rich eyes stare up at me, and I don’t want to come up with excuses. I want to tell her the truth, but I can’t risk it—especially when I’m this close to accomplishing my goal.

  “No, but…” Her eyebrows pinch together like they do every time she’s confused. “If she’s your girlfriend, I—”

  “Stop. I meant what I said. I don’t have a girlfriend.” Not in the traditional sense. I back away and run a hand through my hair. Fuck! I need to tell her something. I may not be able to tell her the entire truth, but I can offer some clarity. That’s more than I’ve given anyone.

  “If we’re going to have this conversation, we need to go somewhere private.”

  “Where do you have in mind?”

  I grab her hand. “You’ll see. I’ll drive.”

  Forty minutes later, we find ourselves walking along the sandy shores of Venice Beach. Neither one of us has said much on the drive here. It’s as if Lexie could sense my reluctance. She doesn’t push. She never pushes. It’s one of my favorite traits about her. I can be myself around her. It’s been that way ever since the first day we met.

  When we find an area where people have thinned out, I stop and face the ocean. Lexie flanks my side, her hands tucked in her short’s pockets. I fill my lungs with the salty air and slowly release it.

  “You picked a rather crowded area for privacy.”

  I laugh. “Nah, everyone here is into themselves too much to worry about what I have to say.” Sometimes the best secrets can be shared in a crowded room. No one pays attention. “Livvy is a nickname for Olivia—who you’ve met.”

  Lexie cocks her head to the side, the furrow between her brow deepening. “I have?”

  “Yep. Do you remember the little girl I had with me at the nursing home?”

  “Of course. I assumed the girl was your niece or sister.”

  “That’s Olivia.”

  “Oh.”

  My guilt deepens as I sense her body relaxing. The right thing to do would be to correct her and admit Olivia is my daughter, but I do neither as I continue to stare out to the waves. A beat later, I slip my hand to the back of my neck and rest it there while contemplating my next move. I have two choices: play this off or come clean. Oh, how I want to come clean, but that wouldn’t be the smart thing to do. I’ve gone this long keeping my end of the bargain. I can’t risk everything now. No matter how much I care for Lexie. I swallow the bitter taste and continue the charade I’ve been performing since freshman year. Olivia’s protection out trumps everything else, regardless if lying isn’t fair to either one of them.

  “My parents raise her. Her mom…left her when she was born.”

  “That’s tragic. And her dad?”

  My jaw clamps tight as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. But I speak the truth, “He’s a selfish bastard.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. She seems like a sweet girl.”

  That makes me laugh. My smile remains when I think about my girl. “She’s sweet, no doubt, but you caught her when she was asleep. Trust me. She can be a real hellfire.”

  “So can my brothers.”

  Her mentioning the reason she doesn’t want kids is the dose of reality I need. Even if I told her the truth and she swore to secrecy, nothing could become of us. She doesn’t want children. I’m tied down. We’re worlds apart on our wants and needs.

  “Yeah, so my parents are practically raising her. I try to help when I can, but with classes and baseball, it’s hard.”

  “That’s noble of you.”

  Fucking stick a dagger in my heart and kill me now. If she only knew I was just being a parent. A dad. It’s my job to be there, especially since I’m the only parent who cares about her. “Nah, Olivia’s a great kid. I’d do anything for her.”

  “She’s lucky to have you as an uncle.”

  I force a smile. It takes all of my willpower not to admit the truth. God, I want to. I want to tell someone, but I can’t risk it. “I’m the lucky one.”

  We resume walking, and I steer the conversation away from my girl. “So, about Kyle.”

  She gives me a side glance. “You don’t want me to see him?”

  “You want the truth?”

  “Always.”

  “No, I don’t, but I don’t have the right to want that.”

  “You’re confusing me. You don’t want me to date anyone, but you don’t want to date me either?”

  “I’m messing this up.” I stop walking and pull her up against me, wrapping my arms around her waist. Those beautiful warm eyes peer up at me. “If there was anyone I could be with, I’d want to be with you. I just can’t.”

  “You keep saying you can’t be with me. What’s holding you back?”

  I hold her gaze as the truth sits at the tip of my tongue like a caged bird, begging to be freed. I’m so fucking sick of this rouse.

  “Why can’t you be with me?”

  “The fact I can’t promise you anything long term. All I have to give is today. There isn’t a future for us. You’re my best friend. I don’t want to mess up what we have, but you make it so damn hard to stay away.”

  “Maybe I don’t want you to stay away.”

  “You should.” My voice comes out raspy. A warning she needs to heed. But her expression tells me she won’t.

  “What will happen if I don’t?”

  “You’ll get your heart broken.” I don’t hold back. I don’t lie. Not about this.

  The flicker of worry reflects in her eyes and tells me she doesn’t like my admission. I don’t blame her. I don’t like it either. Lying to protect my daughter is one
thing. I won’t lie when it comes to us. And there can never be an us in a traditional sense.

  “I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I know exactly what I’m saying.”

  “I can’t give you one hundred percent of myself. How is that fair to you?”

  “Garret, I’m a big girl. If we want to hang together and have fun, we can. If things get carried away between us, so be it. You don’t want to date. I get it. But don’t let whatever fear you’re holding onto come between us.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “You know what I’m suggesting. You’re the one who gave me the idea.”

  “You seriously want a friends-with-benefits type of thing?”

  “If that’s all you can give right now, then yes. Honestly, it works better for me. I don’t know what my future looks like either, and I don’t have time for a complicated relationship.”

  “You don’t think sex will complicate things?”

  “It’s just sex, Garret. People have one-night stands all of the time. At least we have a past together.”

  I don’t have one-night stands. There’s only one time I had a one-night stand, and it ruined many lives. I’ve regretted it ever since. “If we do this, you can’t fall in love with me. I’m not capable of giving it back.”

  “Then, we’ll be friends.” She tilts her head. The corners of her mouth lift to a seductive smile. “With benefits.”

  My dick twitches. Shit, there’s no doubt she felt that against her stomach. But damn, if her proposal isn’t appealing.

  When I don’t say anything, she continues, “Let’s just see where things go. There’s no denying our chemistry is off the charts. That kiss proved that. I don’t have those sparks with Kyle.”

  My nostrils flare. “Did you kiss him?”

  A soft smile forms on her petite face. “Is Garret Cartel jealous of our star quarterback?”

  I let out a growl. “He’s ten times wrong for you.”

  Her smile widens. “And you’d be right for me?”