So what if I secretly hope ‘cake’ is his code name for my ass.
Chapter 6
Logan
Two weeks later
The two doves huddle outside my office window and it makes me think of Heather. Hell, everything these days makes me think of her. In fact, fantasizing about my next-door neighbor has officially become my favorite distraction.
Violet and I have spent every evening with them over the past two weeks, having dinner at her house or mine, watching movies together, walking to the beach or the park, grabbing pizza at the nearby shop. We've fallen into an easy routine that feels dangerously close to domestic bliss.
And I only crave more.
I've been on my best behavior since I kissed her in her kitchen, but it's killing me. I can't get my mind off it, and now I spend half my time plotting ways to get her alone again without a pint-sized chaperone and her furry sidekick cock-blocking me.
That comfortable camaraderie we had as teens is still there, but it's only the tip of the iceberg. There's so much more to her now than what I remembered as a fumbling kid. Which is to be expected. People grow and change, and we're no exception.
And Heather certainly has grown in all the right ways. She's brilliant, funny, and has curves that have been haunting mydreams. I really need to find a way to get another kiss. See if it's really as explosive as I remember, or if that jolt of electricity is just a fluke.
“So we were thinking,” my marketing manager drones on in her business voice, “it would be great to have you and the team in a dunk tank at the artisan market.”
That snaps me out of my sexual daydream, and I straighten in my chair. “Wait, what was that?”
“A dunk tank. Families will love it.”
I blink, my brain catching up. “Hold up, Melody. Are you saying you want the team sitting in one of those death traps that dangles you over ice-cold water until someone nails the target and drops you in?”
“Yeah, that's it.” Her head tilts to the side, and I can practically see her questioning my IQ. “I'm sure you've seen one before.”
“Sure. I didn't realize they were still legal.” The last time I saw one was at some charity event in high school, and the principal ended up hypothermic. Getting my team dunked in ice water for public entertainment sounds like a great way to have a mutiny on my hands.
“Well, they are. And not just the team. They'll want you in it, too.”
I physically recoil. “Hard pass.”
“Why not?” Melody scowls. “You're the town's golden boy. They'll eat it up.”
That's probably the billionth time I've heard the phrase 'golden boy' since I arrived, and it's a billion too many. I never wanted to be the town's shining star. I just wanted to play baseball. And I did, getting lucky at every stage of my career—from my college scholarship to Alabama, to the draft, and beyond.
But this idea that I owe the town something for what I accomplished grates on my nerves. I know I need to check my attitude, but getting dropped into cold water for laughs doesn't appeal after the year I've had.
“I'll pass on it. Let’s save that for spring training events. But we won't require it of the players.” I point a finger at her. “Only those who volunteer.”
Melody blows out a frustrated breath. “Okaaaaay. But keep in mind what we're trying to build here.” She scribbles something with her pen. “The ticket drive we ran at the library last weekend went incredibly well. We sold more season tickets in that five-hour span than the organization has in over seven years. So, thanks for that tip. Your girlfriend was fantastic at bringing in the crowd.”
My head snaps up. “My what?”
Melody blinks, looking confused. “Is the librarian not your girlfriend? Someone told me you two were old flames or something.”
I frown. “Heather's not my girlfriend. We're neighbors and we’ve known each other since high school.” The words taste wrong coming out of my mouth, but I'm not about to let the Pelican Point rumor mill run wild. Especially when I have no idea how Heather would feel about it.
Truthfully, I'd love for her to be my girlfriend. In a way, it feels like we're quickly heading in that direction. But we haven't talked about it, and the last thing I need is to spook her with premature labels.
“My bad.” Melody holds up a hand. “Anyway, Heather made a huge impact on the drive's success.”
“I'm glad to hear it.” Warmth spreads through my chest at the praise. Every marketing tactic Heather's recommended has been brilliant. We've already made significant progress on our community outreach goals because of her suggestions.
“And the grocery store promotion we ran was very effective, as well. Another great idea.”
