8

Cash

“Good,” I tell Lance as he clears the last obstacle with his board.

He’s huffing by the time he makes it through the makeshift obstacle course I built especially for boarders. The kid unlatches his shoes from the board, then spins to face me.

“That was harder than I expected it to be.”

I nod, a swell of pride filling my chest. “That’s what everyone says. Now hit the weights.”

“Aye aye, Coach.” With a salute, he stalks off toward the weight bench and I head over to the office for a coffee break.

Lance is mouthy, but he’s more than dedicated to crushing it in his sport of choice—snowboarding. Which is why he’s here at the training facility, pushing himself and gearing up for another great season.

Now that Liss works as A.J.’s PR manager, there’s nothing I need to do for him anymore. Which gives me the time to fully invest in training other athletes like Lance. At first, it was an adjustment. I didn’t want to quit working for him, even though Liss was more than qualified to take over. But the first time he made a dumb reference about how he was my baby eaglet, and I had to let him fly free, I blocked his phone number for a week. And then I switched my focus.

I didn’t really enjoy lining up PR events for A.J.; it was more the training aspect that I took pride in. Helping someone, guiding them to be their best self…that’s what I loved most. And he and I do still work together in that capacity, but I’ve since added more clients. Usually young guys looking to go pro, or even professional athletes wanting to up their game.

Looking at the bland gray walls that lead to my office, I’m reminded that though business is booming, this place isn’t all mine yet. I hope to purchase the building someday and grow the center to what it could be. With A.J.’s help, of course. I just have to figure out how to proposition him first. I was even thinking we could do something related to his nonprofit. Maybe host camps where the kids could come and train, possibly add some skating equipment…

I take one look at my disheveled office and know I’m getting ahead of myself.

I step into the semi-private space and pour another steaming cup of coffee. I take a sip and glance around at the mess that is supposed to be a working, functioning office. Part of me knows I can’t continue to allow myself to be so disorganized, but another part doesn’t know where to begin. It was easier to keep my crap together when I worked for someone else.

“Knock, knock.” I glance up from my cup to see Liss’s glowing face peeking around the doorway.

“Hey.” I straighten away from the wall and motion her forward. “Come on in.”

“Hey.” She waddles inside, then promptly plops into the chair across from my desk. “Sorry, I’ve gotta sit. My feet are killing me.”

I’d laugh if I knew it wouldn’t hurt her feelings. A.J. warned me that her emotions are always on edge lately and that if I make her cry—even accidentally—he’s not above permanently maiming me.

“What’s up?” I casually walk around my desk and drop down into the most comfortable leather chair known to man. It’s the only expensive thing in this room.

Liss’s eyes ping from the papers stacked on my desk to the bare white walls. “Love what you’ve done with the place.” Her lips lift in a wry smile.

“Did you come here to make fun of my superior decorating skills or was there a reason for this visit?” I take a sip from my coffee, eyeing her over the rim of my mug.

Her lips roll inward for a second before she blurts, “I need you to keep A.J. busy.”

I can literally feel my face contort with confusion. “What?”

She takes, then releases a deep breath. “I need you. To keep. A.J. Busy.”

I set my coffee mug down on the desk before folding my arms and leaning back. “Still not following.”

“Cash, he’s smothering me.”

I cock my head as she shakes hers and holds up pleading hands. “I know I’m saying this all wrong, but what I mean is that he’s home all the time now that we’re getting close to the baby’s arrival. And I love it…most days. But he needs a hobby.”

Understanding begins to dawn on me, and I rub a hand over my face to hide my smile. Do not laugh. “I see. And you want me to…”

“Get him involved in something that takes him away from the house for a couple hours a day.”

I nod. “Okay. Not sure how I’ll make that happen, but—”

“What about this?” Liss whips out a flyer and hands it to me.

Presenting a fun and engaging after-school program for at risk youth. This six-week program will provide a safe environment for teens to be able to learn a new athletic skill while making lasting relationships with positive influences. Currently seeking volunteers to tutor kids on the basics of skateboarding. Apply at…

There’s a phone number at the bottom, along with contact info for the program administrator.

“Did you show this to him?”

“I did more than that. I was the one who found the program. But as soon as I showed it to him, he gave me ten excuses for why he couldn’t do it.”

“And they were….?”

She rolls her eyes, some of that rare sass coming through. “They all revolved around me, Lyric, and the baby. But we’re fine. I don’t need him hovering around me all day like I’m a piece of porcelain that’s bound to break at the slightest bit of pressure.”

“And you think I’ll be able to convince him otherwise?”

Her expression morphs into a mixture of desperation and hope. “If anyone could, it’d be you. You know he’d be perfect for this, and it’s something you guys could do together. Plus, you make your own hours now, so it shouldn’t conflict with your work.”

A huff of laughter escapes me. “I see you’ve got this all figured out.”

She smiles sweetly. “I might’ve thought it through a couple times already.” Some of her amusement dims as she leans forward. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I love A.J. with every fiber of my being, but sometimes…”

“He can be a bit much,” I say. “I get it.”

“I know he’s worried about me and the baby, especially because of my history of miscarriage, but his intensity is borderline overbearing. I need him to have something else to focus on so I can just…be. Even Lyric has been asking me why Dad’s acting so weird lately. If she asks me for something, he immediately jumps in to do it himself. It’s maddening.”

I burst out in laughter. “Man, he’s worse off than I thought.”

“Right?!” She leans back in the chair and rubs a hand over her growing belly. “So you’ll help me?”

I glance down at the flyer. It’s a six-week commitment, which is no easy ask. And I’m not sure what the hours or days will be yet, but… “What if he refuses?”

Despite my reservations, she brightens. “All I’m asking is for you to try.”

“All right.” I set the flyer on the desk. “I’ll give this program director a call and go from there.”

“Thank you so much, Cash.” Liss rises from her chair and makes her way around the desk to wrap me in a hug. I carefully pull her close and awkwardly pat her back. “This means so much to me.” Her light sniffles reach my ears.

Crap .

“You’re not…crying…are you?”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “I’ve just been so emotional lately.”

Great, I’m as good as maimed.

“Listen, let’s not tell A.J. about this little meeting, okay? I’ll help you, but…let him think it was my idea. I’ll tell him I found the flyer on my own, and he’ll assume it’s a coincidence that we both knew about it.”

“Perfect.” She sniffles again and pulls away, swiping at her watery eyes. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

I smile and walk her to the door, pleased that I can mark being on the receiving end of A.J.’s potential rage off my calendar. “Let me deal with him and you get some rest.”

“Thanks again,” she says, turning toward me once she reaches the doorway. Again, she eyes my office a little too shrewdly. “You know, you really should think about doing some redecorating in here. Clients want to know their trainer is organized and efficient.”

I smirk, sticking my hands in my pockets. “Spoken like a true PR rep.”

She shrugs. “Just saying. Britta could probably help you with it. I bet she’d finish the entire job in just a couple days.”

Mental walls fly up at the sound of her best friend’s name. “Yeah, I don’t think so. She’s got it out for me for some reason.”

Liss’s expression softens like she knows exactly what I’m talking about. “I can’t imagine why, but maybe hiring her for a small job like this will mend whatever rift is there on her side.”

“Sure, that’s an idea.” Or maybe it would be disastrous since she can’t seem to stand to be in the same room as me. She’d probably mix up all my client files on purpose or something.

As if I said my thoughts out loud, Liss laughs, then digs around in her purse until she procures Britta’s business card. “Listen, you don’t have to. But she mentioned last week that business has been slow. After this bakery remodel, she’s pretty much free. Just think about it. Couldn’t hurt.”

My fingers close around the eye-catching card’s sharp edges, and oddly, I liken the sensation to how it feels dealing with Britta. She’s beautiful at first glance, but her bite is sharp enough to ward off any potential…well, anything.

I wave as Liss heads to the facility’s exit, thinking over all she said. She’s likely right about my office space. Its unprofessional messiness doesn’t serve me well, especially when working with professional athletes.

But is inviting Britta into my personal space really a good idea? Doubtful.

I shove the card in my back pocket and hope I forget all about it. Something tells me my compassionate side won’t let me, though. Especially knowing that she’s hit a rough patch in her business. And maybe Liss is right. Maybe offering her work will help her see a side of me she won’t find repulsive. And I do need someone who knows what they’re doing to fix my office…

A sigh of resignation escapes me. Looks like I might be taking Liss’s advice.

***

A hostess seats A.J. and me at a back booth in the same café where I first met Britta and Liss. I haven’t been back here since that day and can almost feel the surge of attraction that rose to life at meeting the two of them, especially Britta. Not that I had any intention of acting on it after everything that happened with Meredith. But it was rare to see so much down-to-earth beauty seated at one table.

Once I realized that Liss was his Liss, that initial attraction fizzled. And now I can’t think of her as anything but my sister-in-law. Britta, though…

“What are you getting?”

I shake from my stupor and open the menu. “Oh, um. Probably a hamburger.”

A.J. scoffs. “Shocker.”

I slap the menu closed and glare at him. “Is there something wrong with always getting the same thing?”

He shakes his head, eyes crinkled with amusement as he peruses the menu in his hands. “You’re just too set in your ways is all.”

I have the feeling he’s talking about more than just my food choices. “Nothing wrong with knowing what I like and sticking with it.”

His eyes lift to mine. “Is it knowing what you like and sticking with it or is it being afraid to try new things?”

“Why are you always doing this?” I deadpan. “Needling and poking and just being plain annoying?”

He shrugs. “It’s my way, I guess. I know what I like and stick with it.”

I rip the wrapper off my straw, ball it up, and beam it right at the stupid smirk on his face.

“Saltier than normal today, I see,” he says with a laugh.

“Anyone who spends enough time with you gets salty,” I mutter. Liss’s request from yesterday immediately comes to mind. “I pity your poor wife.”

“Hey.” He shuts his menu and points a finger at me. “That was uncalled for.”

Raising my eyebrows, I shoot back, “And so is your overbearing brand of love and affection.”

His eyes narrow and he cocks his head. “I’m sorry. Is me wanting you to branch out with your food choices overbearing ?”

“Just forget I said anything.” I take a sip of my drink, ignoring the way his gaze burns into me.

“What are we talking about here and why does it feel like there’s something else going on?”

I sit back and release a breath, regretting that I let Liss put me up to this. I don’t do subtle. She knows it and A.J. knows it. To think I could insert myself into their relationship and do some good was a misguided hope, at best. Now she’ll find out I screwed up, cry to A.J., and we’ll suddenly be back to the permanent maiming situation.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on,” he says after I’m silent for too long, “or turn this into a game of twenty questions?”

I’m saved from answering him when the waitress saunters up. “Sorry it took me a minute to get over here,” she tells us. “We just changed shifts, and I had a slight wardrobe malfunction.” Her bubbly giggle and the fact that she’s bending over directly in our line of sight, alluding to said wardrobe malfunction, sets off alarm bells in my head.

“Not a problem,” says A.J. with his usual professional smile. “We are ready to order, though.”

“Perfect.” She clicks her pen just before not-so-subtly leaning her hip on my side of the booth. She comes so close that her cloyingly sweet perfume nearly cuts off my oxygen supply.

I lean away, trying not to be overtly rude, but also not give her the hint that I want to be flirted with.

“What can I get you two devastatingly handsome men?” she asks.

My gaze flies to A.J.’s. He purses his lips to one side, likely fighting back a smile, even as his posture goes rigid. His amusement is clear, but so is his determination. He won’t give this woman an inch.

“I’d like the Cajun shrimp pasta,” he says, stiffly handing her back the menu.

Instead of writing down his order, the woman slides her gaze to mine. “Hey, you look awfully familiar…Didn’t I click on your profile on that one dating app a while back?”

Her mouth perks up in a flirty smile as her eyes travel the length of me. “You never responded to my message.”

I instantly want to reach across the table and strangle the presumptuous idiot who created my dating profile on that stupid app.

“I’ve actually never logged into that profile,” I say, spearing A.J. with as many death threats as my eyes can suggest. “A friend set me up on there and I lost the log-in info.”

Her lips bow into what I’m pretty sure she’s convinced is a sultry pout. “That’s a shame. But I guess it’s just my luck that you walked in here today.” Again, her eyes rake over me in the most suggestive way possible, and I suppress the urge to squirm.

“I don’t date,” I say with finality. “And I’ll take a bacon burger with lettuce, onion, and tomato.”

Only mildly deterred, she swipes her pen across the tablet, then peers down at me, still leaning into my personal space. “No sauce on that? We’ve got this spicy, sweet aioli that’s—”

“No sauce.” I practically shove the menu her way, forcing her to back up.

“Uh, okay. Got it,” she says with a tight smile. “I’ll bring that out when it’s ready.” She spins on her heel, and I take what feels like a much-needed deep breath of non-perfumed air.

“She was cute.” The laughter in A.J.’s voice says the opposite.

“Sure. If cute is the new brash.” I scrub both hands down my face and sigh. “I could kill you for making that profile.”

“Ah, come on. You can’t blame me for wanting to see you happy, man.”

I send him a hard look. “I actually can blame you when I’ve got a woman like that cyber stalking me.”

He settles back against the booth, draping his arms over the back. “Listen, you can’t fault a woman for seeing all this irresistible masculine energy and being unable to help herself.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down as if it’s some big joke.

Maybe I should turn the tables a little.

“I’m more interested to know how Liss reacts to other women fawning over your masculine energy. ” You’d better believe I put those last two words in air quotes.

A.J.’s smile widens into the stupid, enamored one he wears any time we talk about his wife. “There is nothing hotter than seeing that woman go feral over a simpering female fan.” His gaze zones out on the table. “Especially now that she’s pregnant.” The way he bites his lip makes me grimace.

“I don’t even want to know what any of that means.”

His low chuckle reaches across the table as he shakes his head. “No. You don’t. But that one,” he says, lowering his voice and tilting his head toward where the waitress stalked off, “was only interested in you, anyway.”

He’s right, of course, but I didn’t invite him out to lunch to talk about flirty waitresses or masculine energy or even his pregnant wife.

Well…I guess I am sort of here to talk about his pregnant wife. I’ll circle back to that ridiculous profile another time.

“I’m irresistible, what can I say?” I joke without even a hint of laughter in my voice. “Anyway, I wondered if you’d be interested in helping me with something.”

His entire demeanor shifts, and he straightens in his seat. “Sure, what’s up?”

I can’t help but smile. This is the thing I love about A.J. Even when he’s goofing off or acting like an idiot, he can flip the switch to responsible adult on command. And he’s always willing to help someone in need.

“So there’s this new program for at risk youth…It’s looking for some volunteers who are well-versed in athletics to coach some kids and teach them how to skateboard.” I reach into my back pocket and unfold the flyer Liss handed me yesterday. “Sounds like it’d be fun.”

A.J. suspiciously eyes the flyer as he flattens it down onto the table. “Liss put you up to this, didn’t she?”

I rear back. “What? No—”

“Don’t lie to me, man.” His eyes dart to mine. “I know she’s sick of me mother-henning her to death at home and is trying to get rid of me.”

I run a hand over my face and release a breath. “If you know that already, why won’t you leave her be? Man, you’re so annoying sometimes.”

He laughs off my insult and folds the flyer back up. “Because she’s carrying our baby.” He shrugs like keeping Liss in a protective bubble is the most obvious response in the world. “Look, her, Lyric, and now Ace are the most precious things in the world to me. They’re mine — my responsibility. I want to take care of them and being there for them is the best way I know how to do that.”

“You can be there for them without suffocating them.”

Something like hurt flashes across his face, and I instantly regret saying that.

“Did she say that?” he asks. “That I’m suffocating her?”

I shake my head and use my thumbs to tap out a nervous rhythm on my thighs. “She didn’t say that , no. That’s the Cash-edited version.”

He seems to relax a bit, giving me the courage to continue. “But she did say that you’re worrying over her and the baby too much. That she feels like you need a hobby, something to take your mind off her once in a while so she can get actual rest.”

He chews his lower lip and looks away.

“Please don’t take offense to this. She loves you. In fact, she’s probably just as obsessed with you as you are with her, but dude…” I hold out my hands in a placating gesture. “You and I both know she’s dealing with a ton of different hormones and stuff right now. Maybe you hovering at her side all the time makes her anxious too.”

He blows out a harsh breath and runs a hand through his blond hair. “I hadn’t thought of it like that before.”

Honestly, neither did I until the second I said it.

“Besides, it’s not like this isn’t a good thing to invest your time in,” I say, holding up the folded flyer before I stuff it back into my pocket. “I already called the organizer. It looks like it’ll only be a few hours a week, so not a major commitment. Just something to give Liss a break from you for a few afternoons.”

He smirks at my ribbing, then takes a long sip from his straw. “Okay. If you think that’s what she really wants, I’ll do it.”

“Perfect. We start next week.”

With that, the subject is effectively dropped, and A.J. goes back to teasing me about my food choices and the waitress who just won’t quit. At least I can call this lunch a success.