13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Laredo
I get lost in the sparkle of the twinkling stars in the beautiful summer sky and inhale. The warm, salty air tastes like the perfect appetizer for what I plan on being a victorious evening.
Adam’s words of worry and warning have burned away, replaced with a growing confidence that I am where I’m meant to be. It’s the reason Ariel sent that text. It’s the reason she picked Seaside to rehearse. The reason Olivia sent me the flyer.
All paths lead back here. To Betty. We’ve had a connection from the first time our paths crossed. All I need to do is spend time with her again, and our unique chemistry will take over. She will once again see the undeniable chemistry we share.
The prospect of spending another week with the most uninhibited girl I’ve ever known fills my mind with new and daring thoughts. Somehow figuring out a way to make this last longer than a week. But before I can even entertain those thoughts, I have to remind Betty of who she is.
I’m less concerned with finding out what caused this change and more focused on getting back to who she was. The free, fun, spit-at-the-moon banshee who embraces every single moment life offers. And it all starts tonight.
“Are you actually early?” Her sweet voice pulls the corners of my mouth into a crooked smile.
She’s here. I’m already on my way to victory.
I turn to face her, pausing. Despite her objections earlier, she’s wearing a tight t-shirt and my favorite pair of cutoff jeans west of Mississippi. “It’s cute that you think I ever left.” I tease her to let her know how much I’m looking forward to this evening. A calm and sense of freedom flows through me. Gone is the tension I felt all afternoon playing the bass guitar, knowing I have more to offer. In Betty’s presence, I never feel restricted. Only free.
The overhead boardwalk light beams down, highlighting the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Dark curls frame her petite face, bright eyes the same color as her hair, an irresistible dimple on her left cheek when she gives me a playful smirk. It’s a boomerang image from last summer on this same boardwalk.
“Olivia has placed a bin outside the bar to collect donations. She’s posted to all the bar’s socials. That should generate some foot traffic.” Betty provides the update as if we’re at a board meeting in some dry conference room in Chicago.
This may technically be a volunteer work activity, but I don’t do corporate speak. HR isn’t here to monitor our activities, so I whip out my phone and point it in her direction. “Give me a spin and show off those shorts.”
Her hand pushes forward to block the phone, but I pivot away from her and continue to record. Her laugh fills the air, and my own quickly joins in. We are giggling, running in circles, fools. The best type of fool.
“When the guys see these legs, they’re going to crush Driftwood trying to get to your bin.” I lift the phone from her wondrous legs just in time to capture the color racing to her cheeks. I would say she has no idea how gorgeous she is, but she does. A fact she boldly told me when we flirted that first night.
She crosses her arms, the plastic bag hooked on her wrist filled with flyers blocking my view. “Guys never bring cans.”
I smirk and wait for her gaze to meet mine before I lower my eyes to her chest. “They’ll show up to see you.” I deliver the line with experience. I’ve witnessed group after group of guys arriving after sundown when the beach goes dark and the winds pick up strategically, placing themselves in either Olivia’s or Betty’s section. They both have a long line of admirers. Which only fed my enormous ego further when she hung with me. “And their girls will show up with the excuse of being here for the donation drive, but in reality, they’ll come to keep their men away from you.”
“Are you calling me a homewrecker?” Her giggles let me know she doesn’t take offense or disagree with my assessment.
I lower the phone and step into her orbit. It’s a wonderful, carefree, I-get-to-be-myself world I don’t get to enjoy too often these days. This is the rhythm we had last summer. “What I’m saying is that you are so worth wrecking whatever we value to spend time with.” My heartfelt words catch me by surprise. The serious tone immediately shifts the mood.
Her lips pull tight as she pauses, her gaze assessing me. I stiffen under the pressure. “Why are you doing this, Laredo?” Her tone is filled with curiosity, not accusation. “What exactly are we doing here?”
“Collecting cans. Reconnecting, Enjoying life.” I spew the options, knowing I only need one of them to push through her hesitation. When she remains frozen in place, I mention the one that will tip her over. “I know how much the pantry means to you.” Her eyes snap back to life.
Betty has a big heart. When she was eleven, her mom stopped at the pantry with her to drop off cans. It was instant love. Betty told me she was bewildered to find out that there were people out there who didn’t have food to eat. It became an instant passion.
“Right.” Her eyes lower to my feet, but not before I register a hint of disappointment. “That’s why you’re here—we’re here.” She picks at the cuticles on her left hand, and I know I should speak, but I don’t.
I should tell her I’m here for her. I should tell her if it wasn’t Ricco, I’d find some other reason to spend time with her. I should tell her that if we’re in the same city, hell, the same state, I’d find my way toward her.
But I don’t.
I don’t want to give her any reason to run away. If I must use the excuse of the pantry to get her to spend time with me, I will. I will take her any way I can right now.
All I need is the opportunity for her to be reminded that the only thing greater than the two of us together last summer is the two of us together—again.