“You ready to get out of here?” he asks as we look around the barn one last time to take it all in. His rattling keys snap me out of my daze.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
We push open the heavy, wooden barn doors and take a step outside. The hot, thick air smacks us in the face, it’s almost hard to breathe.
I love summer, so the heat doesn’t bother me, but the humidity in Grangewood Creek is nothing like I’ve ever experienced.
The sun is almost down completely. The car park at Wingrove Estates is nearly empty, apart from our hire car and a black Range Rover parked across from it.
“Bro, is that…” my brother says, smacking the back of his palm across my chest wildly, forcing my eyes to follow in the direction he stares.
“Holy shit! It fucking is!” We knew the chances of seeing Harley Wingrove would be high, given we’re working and living in places he owns, but I never expected to see him on day fucking one.
“Be cool, Cole. Don’t ruin this for me,” my brother says, suddenly serious, making sure I get the memo that he needs to impress his sporting hero.
Tate Green has to be the biggest football fan I’ve ever known. He knows every single statistic about every star player, which obviously includes the best QB the game has seen since Max Anderson.
“Wingrove?” my brother calls out, posture straight, shoulders squared, his hand extended for his hero to take, and he does. “Big fan.” Tate remains calm and stoic. He’s used to meeting high profile celebrities for his job. There isn’t an inkling of excitement to be seen.
I don’t know if I should be impressed or surprised.
Harley hasn’t been in the public eye for years, but his signed jersey still hangs in my brother’s games room. I’m just proud that he’s able to keep it together.
“Thanks,” he replies with a genuine smile. He looks at me with his hand out for me to shake, and I take it. “Cole, right?” he asks, and I nod as our hands fall to our sides. “Say hey to Jenna for me.” His smirk is that of a meddling teenager and I’ll admit, my curiosity gets the better of me. My mind swirls with a thousand different possibilities.
How does he know her?
Are they screwing?
Isn’t he married? Or is he marriedtoJenna?
Fuck.
“You know her?” I ask, taking the bait, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from jumping to conclusions. My brother watches me suspiciously. He doesn’t know anything aside from what I told him earlier, and that everyone we now work with thinks she’s my girlfriend.
“I do,” he says without elaborating, and I want to force it out of him with more questions, but he continues before I get the chance. “Not in the way you do, though.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I admit, eyebrows pinched together while Tate’s frustration grows. Word must’ve already spread about my little comment earlier, and I’m kicking myself for it. My brother flashes me an ‘I told you so,’ look, but I refuse to acknowledge him.
“My wife is her best friend. And even if she weren’t, news travels fucking fast in Grangewood Creek, so you better get used to it.” He chuckles, resting his open palm on his chest. “It was good to meet you both. Maybe I’ll see you around,” he says, stepping into his expensive car, closing the door before speeding off, leaving a cloud of gravel smoke in his absence.
Tate watches me. His eyes nearly pop out of his head, mouth hanging wide open, then snapping shut.
“I don’t want to talk—”
“That was so fuckingcool!Holy shit, can you believe we’re working and living at places owned by a fucking legend?” My brother blushes like all of his dreams have come true in a matter of seconds, forgetting anything he had said about me knowing Jenna differently than he does.
I’m glad.
My brother already knows more than I ever planned on telling him.
The longer I can keep it between just me and her, the better.
Chapter twelve
Jenna
And this, ladies andgentleman, is why doing research for your new job is so important.
