62. Baxter

Slipping the hammer back into my tool belt, I step back, cross my arms, and then look to Rachel for approval.

“That gonna work?”

“Yes.” She beams at the new shelves I”ve just installed in her walk-in pantry. “You”re the best. Thanks, Bax.”

“Not a problem.” I give the bottom one a little shake to make sure it”s secure. I already know it will be. I guess it”s just a habit I picked up from my dad.

He”s a builder. Not that I”ve ever worked for him… except when I was in high school.

Working on this house project over the summer has actually been way better than I thought. Dad even came down for a week to check in and help out. I wasn”t expecting that, but I was grateful.

Everyone had so many fucking questions for him, but he”s better at talking than I am, so I left them to it.

Since then, he”s been calling to check in on how things are going at the villa and said he might even make the trip over again to see what I”ve been up to. I”ve sent him pics to make him feel like he”s part of it, and even though he”ll never say it, I think he appreciates the gesture.

Mom always loved pics. She wanted every detail.

Not having her around anymore has cast a gray shadow over our lives, which is why getting out of one more summer in Gladstone was a relief. My small town has a population of around five hundred people, and everyone knows everybody else”s business. You can”t trim a toenail in that town without someone hearing about it, and I”m sure Dad got a whole bunch of sympathy about my decision to stay in Nolan for yet another summer break… and I got a whole bunch of scathing comments behind my back.

I don”t give a shit.

If it weren’t for Dad, I”d never set foot in that town again. I usually fly in for a few days over Thanksgiving and stay in the house as much as possible before shooting back to Nolan.

“So, I think that”s all I need from you down here.” Rachel interrupts my thoughts. “I”m gonna quickly put this stuff away, then head into town. Mick and I will have lunch together, and then I”ll check out that thrift shop off Main Street.” Rachel gives me an excited grin as she loads up the shelves with her newly acquired containers. Lani helped her label them all last night—white sugar, brown sugar, flour, etc. They used Lani”s label maker and got way too much satisfaction out of such a simple task.

With the kitchen being brand-spanking new, Rachel wants to keep it as pristine and as organized as she can for as long as humanly possible. She and Lani seem to get off on tidiness and structure. And Rachel”s beyond excited about making her dreams a reality.

She really was born for this role.

She”s sweet and friendly with the workers who have been coming and going. She knew exactly what she wanted and fought for it with a smile. It”s pretty easy to do anything she asks because she”s so damn nice about it. She’s even scored a few smiles from Vanessa, the woman who’s been hired to tick all the boxes and make sure this place complies with every code, policy, and whatever other shit has to be signed off. Mick’s dad hired her, and she’s… well, she’s Vanessa—or “Scary Hag,” as Casey likes to call her.

Work on the place went way faster than we anticipated. I guess having so many volunteers really helped, and the six-month renovation only took four. I know. It”s a miracle.

I mean, sure, there are still a few things to do. The place isn”t ready to open to the public yet—Vanessa’s a stickler for the rules—but all the main stuff is done. The builders have packed up and gone. And now it’s up to me to finish up all the loose ends.

We”re waiting on fittings for the upstairs bathrooms, which I can easily install, and some light shades haven”t turned up yet. The third-floor bedrooms need painting and furnishing, and the girls have been on the hunt looking for knickknacks, which Mikayla rolled her eyes at.

“They”re dustables. That”s all they are! More things to clean!”

“Mick.” Rachel gave her a soft look of reprimand. “They”ll make the rooms look pretty. Guests will love it. And besides, if all you”re having to do for the privilege of living here is dust a little, I wouldn”t complain.”

That shut her up.

Riccardo—Mikayla”s step-grandfather, and the owner of this place—wants to go for an old-style modern feel, meaning it looks like you”ve stepped back into the 1800s but with all the mod-cons you could want.

The old man came to visit last week with Mikayla”s father, and they”re really impressed. They’ve decided to name this place Ponderosa Countryside Villa thanks to the massive Ponderosa pines that line the back edge of the property. A new sign was installed at the gate just this weekend with a big ‘Opening Soon!’ sticker across the edge.

They’re already talking about soft launches and how to get this place humming. Asher muscled his way into those conversations—I still don”t know how—but he”s loving it and was beyond stoked when his suggestion to run a few weekend specials for exclusive guests was taken on board.

I think the plan is to open up the café while we finish off the last of the rooms, then try for some exclusive two-night stays in November, then an official Christmas opening to see if we can attract some guests to spend a snowy winter break in this quaint homestead.

Some shit like that, anyway. These guys have got it all figured out. I”m just gonna go with the flow… and in my mind, I’m gonna keep calling it Hockey House, because no matter what kind of fancy-ass name this place gets, it’s still filled with my hockey bros. So, Hockey House 2.0 it is.

I wave to Rachel, leaving her to finish organizing the kitchen.

The house is empty except for the two of us. Everyone else is off at school. Vanessa is in California this week—thank God—so things are quiet and relaxed. Hockey season has already started, so the guys are out the door at stupid o”clock to get their workouts in before classes start.

It”s a busy hive of activity in the early mornings and evenings. People are constantly coming and going depending on work schedules, practices, and study groups.

Except for me.

I”m here all the time, because I haven”t found it in me to start the dreaded job hunt yet. I scratch my beard, which has grown in over the summer. I couldn’t be bothered shaving and now I think I’ll feel naked without it. It’s gotten a little wild and I’ll need to tidy it up before I start going for job interviews but…

I don”t even know what I want to do. I majored in business studies, because I didn”t know what the hell else to choose, and it bored me to tears. I went to college for the hockey, but I never wanted to go pro either. I just wanted to have some fun and figure it out as I went along.

The problem is…

I never figured it out.

Working on this old villa over the summer has been pretty fun. Maybe I should be going into construction.

Although, part of the fun was hanging with everyone. Yes, I”m a quiet guy, and everyone thinks I”m a hermit. But that”s only because I don”t want to talk about shit. If I can just sit there watching everyone, I”m happy. And people have been so busy doing jobs over the summer that I”ve been able to do just that. Work away in the background, listening to funny conversations and watching my friends laugh and be stupid together.

During the height of our busy season, we ended up all bunking in the pool house. We set up air mattresses on the floor and piled in there together. It was like being at a sleepover in high school. I think. I never got invited to them, so I wouldn”t really know, but… I can imagine that they were awesome.

Clomping up the stairs, I head for the third floor, figuring I can get an undercoat down in the north-facing bedroom before I”m due at the local arena.

I”ve been roped into coaching Mini-Mite hockey this season. They were short a guy, and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The head of the arena pointed at me, recognized me as a Cougar, and asked how long I”d been playing hockey.

I stupidly responded, “Since I was four.”

“Perfect! You”re in.”

I shouldn”t complain. It”s a little extra cash, and those five- and six-year-olds are damn cute. I”m only an assistant coach… unless the head guy doesn”t show up. On those days, I also have to stick around for the Mite and Squirt practices. And occasionally, I”ll run a Peewee session too.

The older those kids get, the faster they are on the ice, and I won”t admit this to anyone, but I kinda love watching their progress. I almost hope I can keep the position for more than a year or two so I can watch my little Minis improve.

Which tells me I probably want to stay in Nolan for now.

I scratch my whiskers again, surprised by that. I always thought Nolan was a four-year stop, but where the hell else am I gonna go?

I”m not a big-city man, and I can”t go back to Gladstone. I”d run out of oxygen by day three. And everywhere I turn, I”ll just be reminded of her.

That town is too small to survive in.

And at least Nolan is filled with mostly good memories.

I reach the top floor and am just getting ready to lay out some drop cloth when I hear a voice downstairs.

“Hello? Anybody here?”

I wait for Rachel to respond, but she doesn”t say anything.

“Hello?”

With a frown, I squeeze the back of my neck and wait out one more “Hello?” before giving up with a huff and clomping back downstairs.

Rachel must have left already. She probably went out the back, which means she wouldn”t have seen whoever was coming in.

“We”re not actually open yet,” I call down the stairs, but my voice dies when I reach the landing and see the woman waiting in the foyer.

My breath hitches and I”m frozen in place, my heart thumping wildly as she turns around and spots me.

Her almond eyes crease at the corners, and I”m sucked back in time for a second. Back to that moment when I”m pretty sure I fell in love with her. It was the Fourth of July, and she was wearing red ribbons in her hair and a stars-and-stripes T-shirt. Her smile was radiant as she laughed at something her friend said, and then she looked right at me and winked.

And now she”s standing here like an apparition. Her hair is shorter—cut to her shoulders—and she”s got a kid perched on her hip.

I gape at the boy, my insides curdling as I force my legs to move down the final stairwell.

“Baxter Brown.” She grins at me. Her smile is still the same. I could never get enough of those dimples.

Stopping on the final step, I grip the railing and try to play it cool. That”s how I get through most things in life—aloof and unreadable.

“Hey, Tammy.”

My little TT. That”s what I used to call her.

Tamara Tan—the only girl I”ve ever loved—is standing just a few feet away from me.

And she”s holding a kid.

Not my kid.

His kid.

It”s gotta be. The boy looks like he”s around four-ish, and that”s when she was dating him. That”s the reason they got married… or at least one of the reasons.

Working my jaw to the side, I beg my mouth to work as I step onto the wooden floor and close the space between us.

“And who”s this guy?” I have to ask, right? I have to smile and pretend like it”s not a knife through the chest.

“This is Kai.” She lightly brushes her son”s nose, her smile gentle and encouraging.

“Hey, buddy.” I raise my hand in a wave, but he just bulges his eyes at me and buries his head in his mother”s neck.

“He”s shy.” Her voice fades, her eyes instantly glassing with tears as she tries to explain. “It”s been a rough couple days.”

I frown, worry coursing through me, even though I don”t want to feel anything around her anymore. I did that. I got burned. And then I swore off women for life.

“I”m sorry to just show up like this.” Her voice wobbles. “I can”t go home. You know what Gladstone”s like.” The soft curls bounce around her face as she shakes her head. “My parents won”t understand, no matter what I say… and none of my friends will get it either.”

“Tam, what”s going on?”

“Hudson”s having an affair.” Her voice catches, instant tears lining her lashes.

That fucking shithead! I knew she was too good for him.

Clenching my jaw, I try to stop the dark emotion from showing on my face. I always hated that guy.

Yeah, only because he got the girl you wanted… then impregnated her.

They got special permission from their parents to get married, and the wedding bells were ringing before graduation day. Who the fuck gets married in high school?

A week later, my mom died in a car accident, and I left Gladstone in my rearview mirror. I couldn”t stay in that backwater town anymore. I couldn”t watch Tammy be married to that asshole, and I couldn”t stay in my house when the thing that made it sunny was no longer there.

Dad understood, and we took off for a month-long road trip before I left for Nolan.

But then he went back… and I stayed as far away as possible.

“I just need somewhere to lie low for a few days while I figure this out. You were my best friend in high school, and I know we…” Her eyes dip to the floor, and she worries her lip. “I mean, we… well, we lost touch…after…” She clears her throat, avoiding mention of the worst reason why.

My skin flares hot, and I bite my lips together and look to the floor as well.

“But… I don”t know where else to go.”

I glance up in time to see a lone tear slip from her left eye, tracking down to the edge of her mouth.

Without thinking, I shove the past aside and step forward, brushing that tear away. “It”s okay,” I whisper. “You can stay here for as long as you need. We”ll find a space for you.”

She gives me a watery smile, and my heart starts to hurt all over again. I”ve loved her since the fifth grade, and even after all this time, one look at her face and I”m a goner all over again.

And now she”s finally single.

I mean, maybe.

I shouldn”t get my hopes up.

She may have come running to me, but that doesn”t mean she”ll stay… unless I can finally find the right thing to say. Unless I can finally convince her that she deserves more than an arrogant prick who could never love her the way I do.

Baxter”s friends-to-lovers, second-chance romance - THE ONLY GOAL - is due for release August 27, 2024.

Pre-order for this sweet and sexy V-card story now, so you don’t miss out.

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