Chapter three
You were a different woman last year. The words played out in Juan’s mind. Though true, what on earth had prompted him to say them out loud?
The image of Amber’s long, lean legs, her dark green shorts stretched tight across her backside as she leaned over the counter, flashed in his head. His breath hitched. On the next one, he shook his head, though. Not a thought he should be having.
With another shake of his head, Juan gripped the urn and made his way to the truck behind the stand. Placing it on the stand, he unscrewed the top, gave the primary barrel a little shake, then opened the tap.
As the pale yellow liquid poured from the barrel into the urn, his mind replayed those few seconds over and over. Had he made her uncomfortable? She seemed surprised more than uneasy, but maybe that would come later when the meaning of the words sank in? But what had he meant?
The obvious, of course. In the fourteen months she’d lived with the Falcons, she’d healed, she’d found her passion in her garden and cooking, she laughed more, had friends.
Hell, in two months she’d be leaving to start her new job in Napa.
A massive step for a woman who, when they first met, barely left her room and ate only enough to survive.
Try as he might, though, he knew that the obvious wasn’t what he’d meant.
Seeing the dude at the stand give her his number, and seeing her slip it into her pocket, had shaken him.
She hadn’t given any indication that she was considering taking that next step in her healing process.
That she might be open to dating—that she might be open to intimacy again.
And the possibility didn’t sit well with him.
Truthfully, it wasn’t the possibility that gave him pause, but the fact that she hadn’t mentioned it. They were friends. Good friends. Wasn’t that something friends talked about?
“I’ll watch that, then fill this, if you want to take more ice in,” Dulcie said, interrupting his thoughts as he climbed into the truck with another empty urn.
Juan nodded. “Four bags enough?” They had to distribute it carefully. They had plenty on hand, but the cooler in the stand wasn’t well insulated, whereas the truck kept it nice and frozen. If they brought out too much in one go, it would melt and be useless.
Dulcie nodded, and Juan moved away from the barrel. “Another guy gave Amber his number,” Dulcie said.
Juan’s jaw clicked as he gritted his teeth. “She’s a beautiful woman, not a surprise,” he managed to say.
“She doesn’t seem that impressed,” Dulcie added.
Juan opened the door of the built-in freezer rather than answer. She was his friend; he should encourage her to take that step if that’s what she wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, though. And he refused to ask himself why. That way there be dragons he wasn’t ready to face, let alone slay.
“Crowd’s good,” he said, stepping out with four bags of ice, two in each arm. “They’ll make their fundraising target. Probably beat it.”
Dulcie shot him a look Juan opted not to dissect. “Probably,” his brother said after a beat.
“I’ll drop these, then come back for that,” he said, nodding at the almost-filled urn.
Dulcie dipped his chin in response, and Juan hopped out of the truck, holding the bags tight for the short drop.
“Incoming,” he said, walking into the stand. A narrow structure had a low shelf along the back wall holding the ice chest, urns, cups, and supplies, and a higher shelf on the serving side.
Without stopping her conversation with a customer, Amber scooted against the counter to make way for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her fill six cups with lemonade and garnish before snapping the lids on as he emptied the ice bags into the cooler.
“I’ll go grab the urn,” he said, dumping the last of the four in. “When I get back, we should have enough supplies for a while that I can help fill the cups.”
Miguel nodded and Amber flashed him a smile over her shoulder. “That would be great, thanks. It will probably quiet down when the parade starts, but that’s not for another forty-five minutes.”
Had her smile held a hint of unease? God, he hoped not.
The last thing he ever wanted was to make her uncomfortable.
Not only were they friends, but they lived in the same clubhouse, saw each other every day.
Whatever bug had crawled up his butt, he needed to sort it out.
Fix it. If that meant supporting Amber as she ventured into the dating world, so be it.
He’d background-check every single one of the dudes, but she didn’t need to know that.
For the next hour, he and Dulcie filled urns, lugged ice, and helped prep cups.
By the time the parade reached their part of the street, Miguel and Amber sent them out front to watch so they could do a little cleanup during the break in customers.
He’d offered to stay and help, but both had shooed him out, telling him the space wasn’t big enough for the three of them.
Staying close by in case the pair changed their minds, he and his brother took advantage of the breather and enjoyed the day.
Friends, neighbors, families lined the streets.
Kids with balloons gripped tight in their hands, their faces sticky from treats, bounced and shouted as the colorful floats went by, pulling indulgent laughs from the parents, grandparents, and even passersby.
A very different childhood than he’d had. Thank god. Because this was what childhood should be like—safe, loving, joyful. Maybe not all those things all the time—that was impossible. But enough of all of them that they didn’t even realize how lucky they were to have days like this.
When the last of the floats came into sight, he and Dulcie headed back to the stand. “I’m going to check the ice stock,” his brother said, continuing on toward the truck.
Juan nodded and made his way toward the door, stepping in to find Amber alone, her head bowed over a small piece of paper held between her fingers.
“Another number?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light.
Judging by the startled look on her face and the way she hastily shoved the note into her pocket, he hadn’t succeeded.
She shook her head. “Just a note to myself.”
He frowned. Amber did not have a poker face, and he’d bet his eyeteeth she was lying. Why would a note to herself make her so jumpy?
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She forced a smile. “Everything’s fine.” Her eyes darted down and to the left.
“Amber?” he said.
“Miss?”
Saved by the bell. Or a customer. Amber gave him a lopsided smile, a real one, then turned to the window. “Hi,” she said. “What can I get you today?”
His unasked question went unanswered the rest of the afternoon as they served lemonade until the last drop ran out midafternoon.
Amber totaled the receipts as he, Dulcie, and Miguel loaded the truck to take all the supplies back to the school, where a handful of students would help them with the cleanup.
“We blew it away,” Amber said, her smile as bright as the afternoon sun.
“Don’t make me torture you with more jokes to get it out of you,” Miguel teased.
“Two thousand and one hundred dollars,” she said. Miguel whooped, and he and Dulcie clapped, throwing in a cheer as well. The pair deserved it. They’d worked hard this past week to pull everything together.
“Come,” Miguel said, slipping his arm through Amber’s and leading her away. “Those two will shut up the stand while we meet Olivia and tell her the good news.”
“Congrats, you two,” he said, Dulcie echoing his sentiments.
Amber pulled away from Miguel and came toward them. “We couldn’t have done it without you two. Thank you,” she said, giving Dulcie a hug, then him. The undercurrent of uncertainty he felt in her brief embrace put a damper on all the good feelings.
No matter what, he had to make this right. She deserved better from him.
“You sure you don’t need any help with cleanup?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, having you two wait for the city to come pick up the stand is a huge help. It lets us leave now and get a jump on all that.” She jerked her head toward the truck.
“I’ll text you when it’s been picked up and check in, just in case. Or give me a call,” he said.
The dull ache in his chest eased when she smiled at him and said, “Yes, Juan, I’ll call you if we need any help,” echoing their text string from that morning.
He still needed to make sure she knew she had his support if she chose to step into the dating world, but with that smile, and little bit of sass, he felt better about his chances.
“How long do you think it will take?” Dulcie asked after Amber and Miguel drove away, jerking his head to the stand.
The city owned the structures and rented them to vendors during the weekend’s events.
It made it easier for the vendors as they didn’t have to set up or take down or store the structures, but it did mean they were at the mercy of the public works department when it came time to close up and “return” them.
“One way to find out,” Juan said, pulling out his phone and pointing it at the QR code sticker on the door.
To their surprise, the truck was free and arrived twenty minutes later.
Another twenty minutes after that, he and Dulcie were walking back to their trucks parked on the other end of Main Street.
“I’m going to stop by Rita’s, see if they need a hand,” Dulcie said, referring to the bar the club owned on the north side of town. “What are your plans?”
“I’ll give Mantis a call and see where he needs me,” he replied.
He’d rather be home at the club stewing about what to say to Amber and whether he should press her on that note, but he wasn’t that selfish.
If his brothers needed him to help somewhere, he’d go.
It would be better for him anyway, even if it wasn’t his first choice.
To his surprise, when he climbed into his truck and made the call, Mantis had nothing for him. Not wanting to feel like a slacker, though, he checked in with North at Rita’s, and he, too, said they were all good. Five guys were there, and Dulcie would be a sixth. Plenty of hands.
Turning his truck toward the clubhouse, he headed home; a shower, food, and a beer top of mind. Unfortunately, by the time he pulled into the lot, a familiar edginess had crept into his bones. And he knew of only one way to manage it.
Two hours later, dripping with sweat, his muscles aching with the combination workout and trail run, he stepped into the cool of his room, his body blessedly at ease for the first time since that afternoon.
The crunch of tires on the parking lot drew him to the window and he watched, sipping water from a bottle, as Amber parked her car and climbed from her seat.
Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, he wondered if she planned to shower and head back out.
Maybe to meet up with one of the guys who’d given her his number.
Setting aside his thoughts on that question, he tossed his water bottle onto his bed and headed to his bathroom. He wanted to catch her before she went out again, but first, he needed to shower.