She gestures toward my dad and the bread. Right. If I’m staying, I’m helping. After he butters each slice, I add garlic salt. The oven dings right as we finish. It’s already preheated. I didn’t even notice Mom turning it on. But my brain is stuck on my dad’s words.
“No need to worry,” I say, meaning the words with every fiber of my being, “I learned my lesson. Coworkers are off-limits.”
And to myself, my promise goes farther. No dating. No men. Focus on me. On adulting without distractions. Coach Rathborn—Brad’s—crooked smile pops into my head.I’d get on my knees for this guy.
And sure, it’s a nice fantasy, but Brad—even if he was, by some miracle, interested—is the last person I’d ever get involved with. He immediately breaks the rule about no coworkers—although technically, I’m more like his boss. He’s older. Much older. He’d never take me seriously. How could he when he’s only ever known me as a kid?
And why am I even thinking about it?
Dad stands, stretching his back with a grunt. “I just messaged Brad. He’s on board.”
I jerk my hand as if I’ve touched something hot, knocking the garlic salt off the island. My stomach lurches as I try to make sense of my dad’s words. Grabbing the container off the floor, I set it back in place and jam my hands in my pockets before I can do any further damage. “On board?” My voice squeaks so I clear my throat and try again. “What do you mean?”
“A welcome-home dinner.” At my panicked look, he adds, “Don’t worry. Family only.”
I swallow, attempting a smile. Normally, I try to nix any celebration that focuses on me. But my thoughts are too jumbled.
I’m distracted all through dinner. My mom shoots me a worried look—right. My dad just asked again if I was all moved in, and normally, I’d react with more than just a shrug.
But how can I focus on that when my brain is bombarding me with things like Brad’s smile? His woodsy scent that drew me in like a moth crushing on a scorching hot flame. His deep chuckle I felt all the way to my toes.
And his texts. Life is seriously unfair.
Coach Rathborn is family. My dad’s best friend. A sexy man with a brightly lit sign flashing over his head:WARNING: OFF LIMITS.
I smile at my mom to show her I’m perfectly fine.
Afterall, I’m an adult. I can handle this.
My phone beeps with a text. It’s from Brad.
“Is everything okay?” Mom asks with worry in her eyes.
“Everything’s fine.” But is it? I check the text again, trying to ignore the flutter of excitement that runs through me. At least this time, I know he has the right person.
Brad: Hey, Chas. Can we meet at the diner tomorrow? My treat.
Dixon Diner. Named after Charles Dixon, the founder of Dixon Hills. It’s the town hotspot—not counting the bar on a Saturday night. How can I sit across from Brad and remain calm and professional, given everything I can’t unknow?I’d get on my knees for this guy.
Ugh. Why is adulting so hard?
4
BRAD
Sunday, January 5th
My first instinctwas to avoid Charlie and his parents. I messaged Chuck yesterday that I wouldn’t be there to watch the last games of the regular season today. He’ll definitely give me shit for missing, but I’m not ready to face him.
But as soon as Chuck messaged me about the welcome-home party, I realized I needed to get my head out of my ass. I can’t hide away. Charlie and I will be working together. And planning Minni and Chuck’s surprise anniversary party. Better to get any awkwardness out of the way.
I drum my fingers on the table, nodding at Dani Rae as she brings over the coffee and fills my cup.
“Are you ready to order, Coach?”
I give her a quick smile. “I’m waiting for—um, someone.” I stumble on my words as memories from the county fair flash through my mind. Dani Rae’s startled face. Her ruined dress.
She hurries off, not seeming to notice. What was I thinking?
