Page 42 of Wrecked

“He parks there every night,” Juice says like it’s common knowledge.

I speak over my shoulder, unlocking my car door, “It’s a good spot to get people who are leaving the bar. He thinks we over-serve and then let everyone drive home.”

“Yeah, I thought that at first, too.” He opens the door to his car.

I inwardly laugh as I open my door and throw my bag on the passenger seat. Turning around, I lean on the doorframe and ask, “Now, what do you think?”

“I think he waits here for you.”

chapter TEN

Luke and I are pulling up to Homes for All Souls. I’m four hours late, so I know exactly what kind of reception I’m going to get.

I’m particularly bouncy today. Despite last night’s dramatics, Luke and I had a great morning, doing something we wouldn’t normally have done. It was all part of the plan of hosting last night’s fundraiser. To be able to see it all come to fruition this morning has felt terrific.

“Someone looks pissed,” Luke says from the driver’s seat.

We both turn to a glaring Adam. He’s standing outside on the dirt lawn of the center house. His hard stare can be felt through the thick glass of the windshield.

“You sure you don’t want to stay and volunteer?” I ask Luke.

“Maybe next weekend. Right now, I am staying as far away as possible…from that.” He gives a little hand wave to Adam, who does not reciprocate. “Good luck,” Luke sings through his teeth.

“I’ll need it,” I say, grabbing my bag as I get out of the car.

“Where have you been?” Adam is on me before the door is even closed. “I was at your house at nine.”

“And I was out of it at seven.” I wave to Luke as he leaves. I turn back to Adam and see his tough-guy stance with his dirty jeans and mud-slung boots, arms crossed over his clay-colored T-shirt. I reach into my bag and hand him an envelope. “I texted you that I was running late.”

“And I texted you back that it was unacceptable,” he chides, taking the envelope from me. He looks inside. “What’s this?”

“It’s the money we raised at Construction Night at the bar.”

His brows turn in. “Construction Night?”

“Yes, last night, when you were accusing me of the three Ps—play, party, and pretend—we were having a charity night for Homes for All Souls. Raised a decent amount, too.”

He looks down at the envelope in bewilderment. “This is what you raised?”

“Only a third. I bought toys for the Framer kids this morning. I spoke to their mom on Thursday, and she invited me over for lunch. We need to make sure Louise Framer has a top-notch stove because that woman can cook. Oh, and we stopped by the shelter to bring the Mikgus kids a voucher to the water park. I told the park their story, and they kicked in free tickets for the rest of the season.”

“You brought them presents?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“Yes, keep up.”

“And tickets to the water park?”

“And taffy,” I add, placing my hand back in my bag and producing a tin. “I made some for you, too.”

He raises a brow and peeks inside the tin at the bright orange taffy. “You made this?” Closing the tin, he looks back at me. The sun is in his eyes, so he’s squinting. “About last night—”

I walk toward Toby and hand him a tin. “Made you some, too. So, what is the plan this afternoon?”

Toby and Adam exchange glances. Clearly, they’re not accustomed to me being so amenable. I stand and wait for my assignment. Since they’re not giving one, I take it upon myself to choose.

Turning to Toby, I say, “I want to use power tools today.” My hands are on my hips, my chin up in the air.

Toby’s eyes curve in confusion. “Uh, have you ever used them before?”