Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
NATHAN
I’m doing a great job of showing Riley how much I care about her.
She loved the flowers—score—and now I’m driving to the store to get medicine for her headache. I’m really concerned about how pale she got during the conversation about first loves. She tried to hide it, but I could see her grimacing too.
Maybe she should call it a day and close the shop early. I don’t think she should be inhaling car fumes and brake fluid right now.
Of course, there’s no chance she’ll leave work early. I know how she’ll respond if I suggest it. Her eyebrows will tighten until that little line pops up between them. Then she’ll purse her lips and tell me in a strict, teacher voice that she’s fine.
Maybe one day, something about Riley will bother me, but I haven’t found that thing yet.
I dash into the mart and head straight to the pharmacy.
“I’d like the best headache reliever medication you have,” I tell the woman in the lab coat.
She rises to her feet like she’s a Jack-in-the-box being wound up by a sloth. I swear, if she moves any slower, I’ll miss the first half of afternoon training.
Come on, lady. My girl is in pain.
“You have 400 strength, 600 strength and 700 strength,” she recites.
“I’ll have the 600.”
“Which brand?” She brandishes her hand toward three differently colored boxes.
“I’ll have all of them.”
She carefully takes each one down from the shelf and shuffles toward me at the speed of… whatever the opposite of lightning is.
However, I don’t let my impatience show outwardly and I thank her as politely as I can when she hands them over.
I full-on sprint through the mart to get to the cashier but, when I pass the refrigerator section, I slow down. Riley drank water while we ate together, but it didn’t seem like it was helping.
When I open the door, a blast of cool air hits my face.
My eyes rove the bottles of tea. Which will she like the best?
I give up on choosing one and nab five of them. There has to be something she likes in this group. Arms loaded, I navigate to the cashier as carefully as I can without dropping any of the bottles.
As I set the last of them down on the conveyor belt, my phone rings.
I stiffen when I see Layla’s name on the screen. She’s been quiet until now and, while a part of me hoped that would continue, I figured this moment would come.
“Layla,” I say tightly.
“Is this what you call babysitting, Nat? I haven’t seen you all day. You’re doing a horrible job.”
My items beep one by one as the cashier scans them. I shift the phone to my other hand and offer the cashier my credit card.
“Where are you? Are you with that girl from last night?” Layla asks.
I remain quiet.
Layla sighs. “Hello? Are you there?”
“I’m here.”
I genuinely do not care to engage in her tantrum. In less than eight hours, Chance will surprise April with a proposal and Layla will lose all her leverage. I just have to bide my time until then.
“What do you want, Layla?”
“To negotiate.”
“Don’t bother if it’s something ridiculous.”
“You and Chance McLanely can untwist your boxers,” Layla says. “I’m not going to shake him down for money or the family shares. All I want is the interview with him and his girlfriend for my podcast…”
“Okay, we can set that up—”
“…Tonight.”
“—next week.”
“Next week?” Layla spits.
“Tonight?” I choke.
“Here you go, mister.” The bag boy hands me my grocery bag and is immediately engrossed in his phone again, oblivious to the world.
I stumble to the door. “Tonight won’t work.”
“Next week definitely won’t work,” Layla insists.
I open my car, hoping that the panic isn’t emerging too much in my voice. “Pick another time.”
“Fine. I’m free now.”
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. “Layla, if tonight is too sudden, then right now definitely won’t work.”
“Why can’t we schedule it for tonight?” she argues. “The hockey team has that big game tomorrow and then after that the Lucky Strikers will start training for qualifiers. It’ll be impossible to nail Chance McLanely down before then.”
“It can’t be today. Any day but today.”
Layla pauses a beat. “He’s proposing today, isn’t he?”
Crap… how did she know?
“No, he isn’t,” I say quickly.
She scoffs. “Nat, you always talk too fast when you lie.”
“Layla…”
“I see what’s going on here. You sneaky men are trying to push me off so you can have a quickie proposal behind my back!”
I cringe. “McLanely already promised to do the interview. Just keep a low profile until he calls you.”
“Yeah, right. I already blackmailed him and his soon-to-be fiancée. You think he’s going to sit down and smile pretty for a podcast with me? I’m not an idiot, Nat. Unlike you, I don’t see the world in shades of glitter.”
This train is racing off the tracks fast. I struggle to salvage it. “Where are you? Let’s meet up. I’ll call McLanely too.”
“Forget it. I’m going to handle this my way.”
“Layla, what does that…” The dial tone sounds in my ear, “mean.”
I call her back.
She doesn’t answer.
One more try leads me straight to voicemail.
I let out a big sigh and scrub my forehead. Layla continues to be a headache and I have no idea how to stop her.
Feeling torn, I decide to return to the garage before practice. Riley still needs her medicine, and I won’t abandon her because Layla’s issuing threats.
I drive to the auto shop while calling McLanely. He doesn’t answer and I imagine that he’s knee-deep in proposal prep. When I park in front of the shop, I send McLanely an SOS.
Nat: Layla knows you’re proposing tonight. Keep an eye on April.
Still feeling uneasy, I climb out of the car with my bag in hand and enter the mechanic shop. No one is inside the bay. I see smoke billowing from the backyard, so I assume that the mechanics are out there.
As I predicted, Riley is in her office alone. I approach her cautiously. The call with Layla reminded me that I haven’t cleared things up yet. Riley saw me with my ex at The Tipsy Tuna and I need to explain why.
“You’re back.” Riley’s smile is strained.
I cross the room and set out all the medicines on the table. “I got you one of each in case you prefer one brand over another.”
“Thanks, Nat.”
I wait for her to tease me about going overboard, but she simply checks her watch.
“Don’t you have to get back to the arena now?”
Something about the interaction makes me pause. I’m not sure if it’s the stiffness of her shoulders or the way she’s not looking directly at me, but I get the sense that Riley might be upset.
“Are you okay?”
She nods.
I step forward. “Before I go, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“Can it wait until tonight? I have to get back to work.” She massages her forehead.
Backing away, I nod patiently. “Of course, I can tell you tomorrow.”
As I leave her office, Riley calls, “Wait.”
I stop.
Bottom lip fully pulled into her mouth, she gnaws on it for a second and then asks, “What did you want to talk about?”
“Layla. And why I was with her at The Tuna last night.”
Riley’s expression shifts and interest flickers in her gaze.
I sense her eagerness, but I pretend to be clueless. “But it can wait. Since you asked me to leave, I’ll leave.”
I pretend to go for the door.
“Wait, no.” Riley launches around the desk. “Tell me now.”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“Oh shut up,” she grumbles menacingly, but her twitching lips inform me that she’s aware of the irony.
I play hardball by pretending to wipe a tear from my eye. “This is your second time kicking me out of your office.” I sniffle a little, enough to hammer in my act. “I’m human too, you know. I get hurt.”
Riley lets out a puff of laughter and moves toward me. “Where does it hurt? Huh? Here?” She points at my arm and then pretends to punch it. “Here?” A finger pointed at my knee is swiftly followed by a controlled air kick to the shins.
“All over.” I grab her and crush her to my chest. “Everywhere.”
I enclose her in my arms as she lets out a gasp of surprise and tries to wiggle free.
“Nat,” she hisses, “what if someone walks in and sees us?”
“Let ‘em.”
She laughs and wraps her arms around me too, sinking her head against me. Then she shifts her head the other way. And then she tries to rise on her tiptoes to meet the crook of my neck and shoulder, but she’s not tall enough.
Riley leans back with a scowl. “Why are you so muscular? And so tall?”
“The height happened without my consent. And the muscles… I’ll work on some belly fat when I retire.”
She laughs and tilts her head up to me.
Her eyes are sparkling like stars and I lean down, but I get a crick in the neck halfway there. I imagine that kissing Riley will give me all kinds of neck issues.
But I’ll gladly embrace that pain.
“Nat, you were telling me about Layla,” Riley says, knocking thoughts of kissing her out of my head.
Right.
I release her from the hug, but I don’t want to let her go, so I slide my fingers down her hand and lead her to the desk. Leaning against it, I interlock our fingers and face her while I tell her everything—from the moment Layla first came to town until the last call in the parking lot of the mart.
When I’m done, Riley’s eyes are two, burning flames. “So you’re telling me that Layla is threatening to ruin April’s surprise proposal?”
“Yes.”
“And she’s angry with Chance because he moved up the proposal, so she might try to get revenge by telling April?”
“I don’t know what she’ll do.” I blow out a breath. “I wish I could keep an eye on her. I’m the only one who can talk her down and I don’t mind her messing with me if it means that Chance can propose without issues, but I have training and I can’t miss it.”
“Leave Layla to me,” Riley says in a scarily calm voice.
“What are you going to do?”
Riley’s lips inch up, but it’s not a warm smile. It’s kind of terrifying.
And it reminds me that this is a woman who attended a predominantly male trade school, worked on planes in harsh conditions, and runs her own mechanic shop.
“I’ll handle her,” Riley says, again in that still, formidable tone.
I know better than to ask any more questions.