Hell, even if he’d wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able because she’d been avoiding him. She wasn’t at job sites when he was, and all her instructions over the past few days had come in the form of texts or notes at the location.
He’d worried more than once that it was her way of slowly extricating herself from their partnership. But if that was the case, why reach out for this interview?
He had no fucking idea, and the more he thought on it, the more none of it made any sense. He’d promised to give her space, but he wasn’t going to get any answers just sitting here.
“I’m gonna have to take a rain check on today, Drew,” he called as he strode to the front door.
They’d had plans to hang out later, but this confrontation with Rory couldn’t wait. He needed to know what the hell was going on, and he needed to know now.
“What? No, c’mon, man. It’s—”
Nash waved him off. “Not gonna happen. We’ll do it next week. I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“Wait, Nash—”
With single-minded determination, he pushed through the front door and headed straight for his truck. He knew any calls or texts to Rory would go unanswered, just as they had every other time for the past few days. Which meant it was time to confront her. They were going to figure out a way to work through this, whether or not Rory wanted to talk.
Nash knockedon Rory’s front door again and glanced around. Her car was out front, a golf cart parked next to it. She was definitely home. Home and blatantly ignoring his knocks, which pissed him the hell off. As if it weren’t bad enough that she apparently couldn’t be in the same place with him in public, now she couldn’t even speak to him? How were they going to run a business like that?
“Momma, can you take a look at this, please?” Rory yelled.
Nash’s head jerked toward the sound of her voice, and he jogged down the porch steps and around the side of the house. The farther he went, the louder voices grew—two of them, from the sounds of it, arguing about something.
When the backyard came into view, he stopped short. A large canopy tent stood in the back corner of the yard, half a dozen picnic tables settled beneath it that Caroline and Will, along with Ava and Ella, were covering in tablecloths. Large-bulbed string lights zigzagged through the arching tree branches. And only ten yards from where he stood, Rory and Mac were perched on stepladders, their backs to him as they argued over whether or not the banner they were hanging was straight.
A banner that read, CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR SUCCESS, KING CONSTRUCTION!
For long moments, he was frozen in place, his mind whirring. She hadn’t bailed on him, hadn’t been avoiding. She’d been trying to surprise him. She’d contacted the magazine, had arranged for the interview, and now, apparently, had planned some kind of party in celebration. For him.
He strolled in her direction and didn’t stop until he stood directly behind her, ready to catch her if she fell. “I thought we talked about you standing on ladders.”
Rory squeaked and spun around, hand to her chest. “Nash! What—” She glanced over his head, wild eyes darting around the yard. “What’re you doin’ here? Where’s Drew? I told himfive, not two!”
He gripped the ladder on either side of her hips, brow furrowed. “What does Drew have to do with anything?”
“He’s…” She glanced around again. When she seemed to realize Drew wasn’t there, she yanked the banner out of Mac’s hands, ignoring her sister’s protests, and shoved it behind her back. “What’re you doin’ here?”
He raised his eyebrows and pointedly glanced around the yard, lifting a hand in a wave at Caroline, Will, and the girls, who were all staring at him. “I think the better question is what areyoudoin’ here?”
“Let’s, um—” With a hand on his shoulder, she pushed him back so she could climb down the ladder. Once on the ground, she kicked the banner behind her and shot a pointed look to Mac. “Let’s go around front and chat. It’s such a mess back here.”
He nearly grinned at her avoidance, but he played along, strolling behind her as she tugged him toward the front yard with a hand gripping his wrist. “Looks like you’re throwin’ a party. What’s it for?”
She glanced back at him. “What? Oh, no. I’m not— That’s not—” She shook her head and waved a dismissive hand. “Just a little get-together for family. It’s nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing. Looked like a pretty big deal. A genuine Rory Haven party. Something you might throw for your grandmother’s eightieth birthday, or for a graduation, or maybe even after a small, family-owned business got a spread in a national magazine…”
She stopped short, and he nearly stumbled over her, stilling himself with a hand on her waist.
“What makes you say that?” she asked, her voice strained.
He knew he shouldn’t, knew it wasn’t his place to touch her anymore, but he couldn’t stop his thumb from stroking the sliver of skin peeking out between her pants and long-sleeved shirt. Fuck, he’d missed the feel of her under his hands. Missed the feel of her under him, period. “I saw the banner, princess. You gonna tell me what this is all about?”
“Dammit!” Her entire body deflated before she snapped upright again, fire in her eyes. “I’m gonnakillDrew! He had one job—one!” She paced away from Nash, her arms gesturing wildly. “Just get you here at the right time so I could do this in front of everyone because you deserve that. You deserve it after everything I put you through—putusthrough. This was the chance to show everyone how much I love you, and now it’s ruined because you’re here three hours early! This wasn’t how this was supposed to—”
She continued ranting, but he stopped listening. His mind was stuck on the three little words she’d said that kept repeating over and over in his head.
When she paced closer to him, he stilled her with his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. He brushed his thumbs across her collarbone and bent at the knees to meet her eyes. “Hang on. Rewind for me a minute. I’m gonna need you to say that again.”
