“I’m partial to the carrot cake bars,” Beau says. “I know it’s not the sexiest option. But they do the trick. Can’t go wrong with a cinnamon roll. And she recently added bear claws to the menu.”
Please don’t know those are Maddox’s favorite… please don’t know those are Maddox’s favorite…
Linc’s eyebrows go up. “Bear claws you say? I’ve heard a thing or two about those.”
Fuck. He knows.
“Yeah, I try to keep the menu fresh. Bear claws felt right.” I say, quickly going to grab brownies for Ainsley and everything that Beau listed for Linc.
“You haven’t made those in forever,” Beau says, completely clueless on why bear claws have become an important part of conversation. He starts to say something when his cell phone rings. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”
I finish bagging up Linc’s order as Beau steps into the kitchen for privacy.
“Have you recovered from the parade?” I ask, desperate to make small talk.
“I have,” Linc says. “Now back to my normal offseason routine. Which means Monday nights I bring Ainsley dinner and dessert at work.”
“Seriously? That’s adorable.” I say, heading back to the counter to grab an extra brownie.
“It’s our thing,” he says. “But, she did instruct me since I was coming in here to see if I could get your contact information so she could message you about a cake order? Her schedule is all over the place so she didn’t want to miss you and get the order in too late.”
“Oh yeah. Sure,” I say, reciting my personal number for Linc as he punches it in his phone. “She can text or call me whenever.”
“Thanks, I’ll let her know,” he says, taking his card out of his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
I shake my head. “On the house.”
“Absolutely not,” he says. “I’m all about supporting local businesses. How am I supposed to do that if I get free things?”
“You can pay next time,” I say. “This is the least I can do to thank you.”
“Thank me? For what?”
“How nice you and Ainsley were in Vegas,” I say. “To me and my friends. It was an unexpected night, but you guys were very welcoming. I appreciate that.”
He slips his card back into his wallet, but then pulls out a twenty and stuffs it in the tip jar. “No thanks needed. You were a part of the celebration. I can’t imagine the night without you there.”
Linc seems like a genuinely sweet guy. When I was doing my light reading on the plane ride back, articles popped up about him, so I read a few. The guy had a hell of a year—both good and bad—both on and off the field. I’m glad he seems to be in a good spot, and he’s got a girl like Ainsley next to him.
“Well thanks again. Tell Ainsley I said hi and to seriously text me whenever she wants.”
“I will,” he says, picking up the bag and standing up. “And, for curiosity's sake, if a certain teammate of mine wanted to get a hold of you, and since I have your number, do I have permission to give it to him as well?”
Oh that was smooth Linc Kincaid. Very smooth…
“I—” I start to say something when I realize I have no idea what I should say. I know what I should say, and that’s the word no. One syllable. Easy off the tongue. Or, maybe something nicer like “that’s sweet but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Because it’s not. Either of those replies are what a smart person should say.
But I’m not a smart person. Not right now. Because clearly my head is taking the day off. My heart hasn’t worked in eons. Which leaves my vagina to make the decisions. She’s been begging to be in charge for years. Especially after coming out of retirement in Vegas. Which is the only reason I can fathom that I say the one word I shouldn’t.
“Yes.”
CHAPTER 10
MADDOX
Maddox
