Wrong Text, Right Reply: A Sweet Accidental Romance (An Accidental But Perfect Romance Book 1)

by Bonnie Sweets

  “No. Are you serious? Man… Sometimes…” I shake my head, but lean forward, studying the swollen eye. “You look fine. It’ll take a couple weeks to heal. Do you need time off?” David works for me but unofficially. I won’t pay him if he doesn’t work. And my little brother has a definite love for the easy money. If he takes time off for his eye, he’ll be losing a good chunk of money.

  He shakes his head and waves his hand toward his face. “Please, I’m fine, if you’re fine. I’ll make sure it sticks with the toughness of the brand.” At least I got that drilled into him.

  My one rule for David working with me is that we always protect the brand. Knox Your Socks Off BBQ can’t have weaklings running things.

  People want to buy BBQ off manly men, men in black aprons, men who can drink habanero sauce and not break a sweat, men who can grow facial hair, chest hair, and any other hair on demand. At least, that’s what I picture when I think of the ideal BBQ.

  “I’m fine, but I think you should know.” I lean closer and lower my voice. “I know. And when I find it, payback is going to suck.”

  David’s eyes widen and he holds my gaze for a second too long with his one good eye before shifting to look somewhere else, anywhere else. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

  I’m not stupid. He’s hidden my phone. And when I find it, retaliation will be the only thing on my mind.

  For now, though, I’m going to pretend Savvy isn’t taking up all of the extra brain cells I can spare.

  What would it be like to run my fingers through her unbound hair? Or to kiss her soft lips?

  No. Those aren’t thoughts she would welcome about her, especially from me.

  For some reason, Savvy can’t stand me the most out of all the guys in the trailer lot, but I can’t figure out why.

  Maybe I need to work on making her see I’m not the bad guy.

  Chapter 5

  Savvy

  I narrow my eyes as Knox leaves. Why would he say that?

  Uptight? I’m not that uptight. In fact, I’m not uptight at all. I reach up and twist the end of my braid around my finger.

  The sudden appearance of customers pulls me out of my confused frustration. I paste a smile on my mouth and laugh, teasing a new group of women as they go about ordering some of that day’s specials.

  “Is that the chocolate lava cake you had the other night? I was here and you were closed. I could have licked the doorknob of your trailer, it smelled so good.” The woman’s blonde hair was pulled up into a sloppy bun and her laugh was infectious.

  Slightly horrified that someone would even consider licking a doorknob, I laugh, my eyes wide. “Well, I’m glad you waited. Yes, I have the lava cake here. Would you like to add that to your order?”

  The women with her laugh and say to me, “It’s just how Bobbie is. Don’t take it personally.” They’re laughing as I hand them their orders and take their payment.

  Bobbie ignores the ham and cheese sandwich she ordered on an Everything Seasoning keto bread and dives right into the bag with the lava cake. She pulls it out, oohing and aahing over the presentation.

  I always add stickers of flames on the outside. Just something a little silly to keep it fun.

  Scooping a bite from the opened container, Bobbie rolls her eyes back and moans. “Oh. My. Lanta. If I wasn’t already married, girl, we’d be hitched right now. How did you do this?” She glances up at me and then scans as much of my form as she can. “No wonder you’re so thin. You get to eat like this all the time. I’d never cheat on my diet. Never.” She sighs and wanders off with her friends, wiggling her fingers at me in goodbye.

  I hope those friends of hers know how lucky they are to have her.

  I’m still grinning as the next few groups of customers come and go, each one leaving me in a better attitude than the last.

  I’ve made my goal in sales before the next lull and I glance across the lot toward the BBQ trailer. Not because I want to see him, but because I want to see if the crowds are dying down. At least I tell myself that to justify my constant glances.

  My phone dings and I’m grateful for the distraction. Picking up the cell, I read the text from Sara.

  Sara: I’m here. Thank you for checking on me. I honestly haven’t had a chance to check in. I’ll get in the group now.

  I send her a smiley face and then swipe over into the group, shooting one more peek at the BBQ truck across the way.

  Me: Okay, I need to vent. I don’t have any girlfriends to do this with and I need to get this off my chest.

  Dion: Go girl. Where’s my popcorn?

  Apple: I love a good venting session. Lay it on us.

  Alex: Wait! I’m settling into the couch. Okay, I’m ready now. Go.

  It’s fair to say I’m grinning even wider as I start to type up my message.

  Me: Here’s the thing. The guy I was talking about? The one at the BBQ truck? He was over here and bought some stuff from me and I thought he was being nice until…

  I don’t want to write it. I don’t want to tell anyone what he’d said about me losing control. Why did he have to go there?

  Dion: What’d he say? Do I need to come throat punch him? I got this. Especially if he’s hot.

  Apple: My ex was a professional at making rude comments. He once said I reminded him of a hippo.

  Alex: No! I’m going to need his address.

  Dion: I’ll go with you, girl. I know people.

  Mandie: I know people, too. Unfortunately, my ex is the people. Think we can convince them to take each other out?

  I’m snort laughing by the time the conversation gets to hiring out for taking care of our exes and this is definitely what I’ve been missing. Friends. Honest friends who understand where I’m coming from and are saying the same things I’ve been thinking since my inevitable divorce last year.

  Inevitable. A wave of sadness washes over me. And not for the first time, I’m worried that it really was my fault.

  But I didn’t make him cheat and I didn’t walk away. I’m still here.

  I text them a rundown briefly of what happened with Knox, trying to shrug off the guilt with my dead marriage.

  Me: Do you guys think I overreacted to what the BBQ guy was saying?

  Alex: Do you think you overreacted?

  Me: I wasn’t very nice. In fact… I haven’t been very nice to him at all. Or anyone in the trailer lot, tbh.

  Tbh seemed to be my moniker lately. Short for To Be Honest, TBH had become a definite reminder that it wasn’t always necessary to make others feel better, but it was more important to own the truth. Always own the truth.

  Lies had broken down my marriage.

  Dion: Well, at the risk of sounding like I’m on Team Man, I do think there are some good ones out there. They’re rare, but they’re there or we wouldn’t have been able to procreate so much over the years.

  Apple: Good point.

  I nod, even though they can’t see me. They’re right. I text them as much and then push myself to my feet.

  While we have a break in the quick rush of customers, I need to tell Knox that I shouldn’t have treated him the way I did. That just… was rude and unnecessary.

  And not the person I want to be.

  I step down from the trailer, grateful for the soft warm breeze from the spring early evening and make my way across the lot. I can do this. I can. He didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I can do better. I have to do better.

  “Hey, Savvy, girl. When you going to take me up on my offer and go out with me? Come on. Ima makes an amazing cannelloni.” Leonardo leans out of his Italian food truck with red and green banners and flags all over the place.

  I smile and wave but keep walking. I don’t need to partake of the food trailer lot Lothario. I still have too much respect for myself to make my way around the food trailer rumor mill.

  Before I can overthink anything, I’m standing in front of the BBQ trailer. I lick my low
er lip and then rub my top and bottom lips together.

  No one is in view – not Knox, David or anyone else. Twisting to look behind me, I turn back, certain I’m missing something.

  “Hello?” Suddenly I feel ridiculous being there. He probably didn’t care about the way I treated him. I can’t mean anything to him so he won’t care about what I’ve done or said.

  But I don’t want him to think I’m rude. I’m not… generally. Just with men who look like him. A man who looks like him is dangerous to develop any kind of relationship with. He’d have too much opportunity with other women. Who’s to say he’d stick around for any length of time?

  If a guy like Keith – with a name like Keith and who looked like the worst version of the fakest car salesman I’ve ever met – could find someone to cheat on his wife with, why couldn’t this Adonis find someone to walk away with?

  Like I conjured him with my doubts and insecurities, Knox braces his arms on the counter and peers at me through the open window. “Hey, Savvy. What can I do for you?” He flicks his gaze past me and then looks back my direction, his expression expectant but polite.

  “I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you. You weren’t exactly… nice, but that doesn’t mean I needed to unload on you like that.” I can’t help smiling tightly. The other women had made it clear I didn’t need to act like that.

  “Yeah, I get it. And I didn’t realize that what I said upset you that much. I’m sorry, too.” He wipes the counter and then lifts his astonishingly shiny eyes at me. “I was wondering…”

  But he’s cut off by the sound of We Will Rock You by Queen coming from the napkin table.

  I step back, blinking and dropping my gaze to the table he’s set up to hold utensils, napkins and extra spices like salt, pepper, and some kind of BBQ mesquite mix.

  “Hey, do you hear where that’s coming from?” Knox rushes to the end of his trailer, stepping down from the door as fast as a man his size can.

  I’m already at the table, moving things around. “What a weird place to put a radio.”

  “It’s my cell. My idiot brother has been hiding my phone for the last couple weeks. He takes it home and then brings it back to hide again. I’m about at my wits end with that guy.” Knox stands beside me, half-bent over the table as he rustles the containers around.

  I reach under the napkin dispenser and pull out the still rocking phone. “Found it.” I offer it to him without scanning the screen. I always hate when other people look at my stuff. I feel like they’re invading my privacy. Unintentionally or not.

  “Thanks. I’ve got to get David back.” Knox grins at me and I find myself speechless.

  What do you say to someone who’s looking at you like they want to say something but they’re stuck, too?

  Nothing. I just sit there like an idiot.

  He clears his throat and tucks his phone in his back pocket. “This is… sweet of you to come over and apologize.”

  “You say that like it’s out of character.” I laugh, but then realize he’s not laughing with me. I clamp my mouth shut. “Wait, you really think I’m a witch, don’t you.” It’s not a question. I can see in his expression that’s exactly what he thinks of me.

  “I didn’t say you are, Savvy. I just… Don’t know what I did to make you hate me so much.” He speaks slowly, like he’s worried I’m going to jump down his throat or he’s going to say something wrong.

  This makes me sad but also makes me a little relieved. If he thinks I’m a witch, then there’s no pressure on the dating front. Not that I think a guy like him would date someone like me.

  I’m a single mom with control issues. And more secrets I don’t want to get out.

  “Well, I’m sorry. That’s certainly not the way I want to be thought of, but… It’s probably for the best.” I nod sharply, careful to keep my emotions in check. I don’t want him to know it bothers me that he thinks like that about me.

  As far as other people are concerned, I don’t care what anyone else thinks.

  Even if I actually do.

  He offers me a lopsided grin as he backs up a step from me. “I can see where you get the Killer part of the name.” And he winks.

  He winks at me like there’s some kind of secret between us.

  And even as much as I’m not supposed to like him, or any guy, the fact that he winks at me like we have a secret leaves my insides fluttery.

  As I go back to my own trailer and force myself not to glance back over my shoulder, I refuse to think about the way he looked at me.

  I’m not going to entertain any thoughts about pretend interest from Knox. I barely know his last name. What I do know about Knox so far doesn’t fit with what I need it to fit.

  Not to mention, I know he’s a guy. And guys are off-limits.

  Wait until I tell the girls what happened. They were right. I didn’t need to act that way toward him.

  And I’m finally looking around at the other people I’ve ostracized over the last year that I’ve been there.

  Maybe I need to care what people think about me. At least a little bit. Maybe the reason I don’t have any friends is because I don’t put in any work to make people like me.

  Getting a friend has been on my wish list for a long time. Taking my goals seriously might be the best way to get rid of my loneliness.

  I can’t wait to talk to the girls.

  And as I sit on the bench in the trailer to wait for more customers, I pick up my cell. I love that Knox has a Queen song for his ring tone.

  Classic rock was surprising and welcome and one more thing we have in common.

  I don’t want to know anymore we might have in common. At least tonight.

  Chapter 6

  Knox

  I watch Savvy walk away. Again. All kinds of things I want to say to her flash through my mind. By the time I settle on something, she’s out of sight and in her trailer.

  Which is probably for the best considering I mess everything up.

  Gripping my new-found cell, I return to the interior of my trailer and glance at my wristwatch. Almost four. Dinner rush will be in another hour, but hopefully we get some early eaters.

  The chorus of We Will Rock You fills the trailer again and I turn expectantly toward the phone. Once, as a joke between David and myself, I’d set all of my ringtones and notifications to Queen songs. He’d suggested Fat Bottom Girls but even I had my limits.

  Double-tapping the screen to open the phone, I raise my eyebrows at the bright red number tagging the upper right corner of the message icon. Eighty-six? Eighty-six missed texts? Did I even know that many people?

  Or had I ever gotten that many texts before total? Maybe that one time when I dated Marissa. She was a sweet girl but every day she sent me five or six messages that were only “U up?” or “U there?” That’s all she would say.

  No missed calls which is more a blow to my ego than I thought it would be, but the missed texts assuage some of the sting.