Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

RYLAND

“Do you think Aunt Hattie will like my picture?” Mac asks as we hold hands and head to The Almond Store.

“I think she’ll love it, especially how you drew her hair.”

Mac smiles up at me as she holds her picture close to her chest.

She had a good first week, and today, she was able to count backwards from twenty, so we’re celebrating the small victories. I told her I’d take her to the family store for some of our famous cherry almond cookies.

When Cassidy was still alive, she had a vision. She bought a farm, which we all thought she was somewhat crazy for doing since she had no farming experience. And on top of that, she decided to grow potatoes.

Potatoes.

What the hell was she going to do with potatoes?

She fermented them and turned them into vodka. That vodka was fused with almonds and created The Almond Store’s biggest seller, almond extract.

It was an odd business model that has proven to work well.

She opened The Almond Store, playing off the town name, and created a touristy destination. Before she passed, she asked Aubree to run the store until Hattie was able to take over when she was done with college. Now, Aubree looks over the farm with Wyatt. Hattie is in charge of the store, and it’s thriving. And I, well, I have Mac.

I open the door to The Almond Store, and I’m immediately hit by the smell of freshly baked cookies and almond. The white oak floors are free of dirt, and the white walls are pristine, showcasing the shelves of products. The subtle blue throughout the store offers a cleaner aesthetic, creating a peaceful shopping experience.

Hattie stands behind the counter, and a large smile spreads across her face when she looks up. “There’s my girl. How was school?”

Mac releases my hand and runs up to Hattie, giving her a big hug.

I don’t know how Mac does it. Hattie looks just like Cassidy, a spitting image. I wonder if that’s why they have a strong bond? Maybe that’s why Mac and Wyatt have a strong bond too, because Wyatt is actually the brother of Mac’s dad, who passed away in a bus accident.

“I made you a picture.”

“You did?” she asks. “Let me see.”

Mac holds up the picture, and I carefully watch Hattie’s face as she takes it all in.

To describe it to you the best that I can, I would say it looks like Hattie has googly eyes and knives coming out of her head. Several knives.

“Oh . . . wow.”

“Do you love it?” Mac asks, looking up at Hattie with those big green eyes.

“Yes, of course. You did such a good job.” Mac goes in for a hug while Hattie looks in my direction. She mouths, “What the fuck?”

Which makes me chuckle.

“Guess what, Aunt Hattie? Mac also counted backwards from twenty today.”

“She did?” Hattie asks. “Well, I think that’s a cause for celebration. How about a cookie?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Mac says, jumping up and down.

“Go grab a juice box, and I’ll get you your cookie.”

Mac takes off toward the back to the kitchen while Hattie whispers to me, “Should I be concerned that it looks like I’m getting stabbed in the head multiple times?”

I scratch my cheek. “Still trying to figure it out. I want to say that’s your curly hair, but . . . it does look a lot like knives.”

She shivers. “Horrifying.”

“You’re not the one living with her,” I whisper. “For all I know, the knives could be coming for me.”

She chuckles and places a cookie on a napkin just as Mac returns with a juice box in hand. Hattie sets her on the stool in front of the checkout counter and opens the juice while Mac takes a big bite of the cookie.

“Are you going to have one, Uncle Ry Ry?” she asks.

“Yeah, Uncle Ry Ry, are you going to have one?” Hattie asks, loving that Mac calls me Uncle Ry Ry now. It used to be Uncle Ryland, but along the way, it changed. At the beginning, it was annoying, but of course in grand Mac fashion, she’s worn me down.

“Sure,” I say.

Hattie grabs another cookie from the display case, sets it on the napkin, and hands it to me. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” I say, giving her a raised brow. “Why?”

“No reason, just wondering how everything’s going. Hayes said he drove by the school today and saw you out on the field with your new coach.”

“Hayes needs to worry about himself and figure out when the hell he’s going to propose.”

Hattie’s face falls flat. “That’s a sensitive subject, Ryland.” She leans closer and whispers, “I asked him about it last night. He got all huffy with me, and we got in a little fight. He told me to leave it alone and that he’ll propose when he wants to propose.”

“Yikes,” I say with a wince before I take a bite of my cookie, grateful for the distraction from having to talk about Gabby.

Just then, the door opens behind me, the bell jingling.

When I turn to see who it is, the momentary reprieve I had from thinking about Gabby is eliminated as she comes into view.

“Oh,” she says. “Uh, hi.”

“Hello,” Hattie says with a huge smile on her face.

“Hi!” Mac shouts with a wave.

Great.

This is not what I need after everything that happened today.

When I walked into the teachers’ lounge at lunch, I was ready to grab my sandwich and eat in peace, but that all changed the moment I saw Gabby talking with Christian. Nothing against him, he’s an okay guy, a bit of a player, but I didn’t fucking like it. I didn’t like the way she smiled at him, leaned in close, or even joked. I liked nothing about it, and it flipped a switch inside my head, the one I can’t seem to control when I’m around her.

It’s the same switch that almost made me strip her down in my office.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but after her speech in my office, I realized I need to get my shit together.

This isn’t about me getting my dick wet. This is about taking care of Mac to the best of my ability and finding a way to work with this woman without acting on these fucking urges.

And that’s what I’m doing.

That’s what I promised myself I was doing when I was showing her around the facilities. She already knew about the field because of Bennett, who she kept talking about. That helped because every time I think about him, I think about how pissed he’d be at me for treating his sister the way I have been.

I just need to shake off the irritation. Start new.

Start fresh.

Erase everything up until earlier when she gave her speech about struggling in life and play off that. Because if I don’t, I’ll get caught up in all the wrong things.

“Hey, uh.” Gabby glances around, confused, and it hits me that she might not know that Hattie runs the shop.

Putting on my big boy adult pants, I say, “Gabby, you’ve met Hattie briefly, right?”

“Yes,” she says, taking a step forward.

“She owns The Almond Store, and together, she and my other sister Aubree—I think you briefly met her as well, she runs the farm—create the products you see here. Hattie, you remember Gabby? She’s the tenant above the garage and my new assistant coach.”

Hattie’s smile only grows wider. “Yes, I remember. How are you?”

“I’m doing good.” Gabby glances at me. “I was told I could find some really good cookies here.”

“You sure can. Come on up,” Hattie says, waving to Gabby. “I actually have some fresh ones in the back. How many would you like?”

“Do they freeze well?”

Hattie nods. “Yes, they freeze so well.”

“Maybe half a dozen, then,” Gabby says.

“Sure, be right back.”

“I’ll help,” Mac calls out, leaving me alone with Gabby. Again.

I finish my cookie and wipe my fingers. When the silence is too much to handle, I mutter, “She didn’t give me a fresh one.”

I can see her lips tilt up from the corner of my eye, and I beg myself not to get lost in that smile.

“For the record,” she says. “I didn’t follow you here.”

“Didn’t think you did,” I reply.

“Okay, because I feel like that’s something you’d think.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask, now turning toward her. She does the same.

“After what happened with Christian, I don’t know, just setting the record straight.”

“No need to. Everything’s fine.”

“Is it, though?” she asks. “This feels more awkward than ever.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll be uncomfortable for a while.” I let out a deep breath and look her in her beautiful, different colored eyes. “I want you to know that . . .” I look away for a second to gather myself because her gaze is too intense. “I’m sorry about, you know, everything, and I promise I’ll be better. I’ve acted like a buffoon, and if I look back at all our interactions, I’m embarrassed I treated you the way I did. It’s not your fault you were hired. If I should be mad at anyone, it should be David.”

“Wow, uh, thanks. Wasn’t expecting that, but I’m sorry too,” she says, seeming very surprised that we’re having this heart-to-heart in the middle of The Almond Store. “I should have told you who I was and that I got the job right away. That was shitty of me. I was just . . . I don’t know, nervous. You were so angry when you found out I was your tenant that I couldn’t imagine how you’d react when you found out I was coaching too.”

I slowly nod and toe the floor. “Yeah, because I didn’t think I’d see you again. I passed off that night we had as an incredible one-night stand that would live with me for a while. Never did I think that I’d have the opportunity to well . . . you know.”

She agrees. “Yeah, I know.”

“But I promise I’ll do better. I just . . . I need to get over this crazy lust I have for you.”

Her eyes meet mine. “I know what you mean. That’s why I suggested we do the friend thing.”

“I mean, it’s something we can try. It’s not like anything else has worked.”

“It really hasn’t,” she says.

“Okay, so then, we’re working on being friends?”

“I guess so,” she replies.

“And to be clear, friends without benefits.”

“There can’t be any benefits whatsoever. Like . . . none.”

“Okay.” She tugs on the strap of her purse. “And friends can’t get mad when other friends talk to other people in the teachers’ lounge.”

“Only if friends don’t openly flirt with other people in the teachers’ lounge in front of friends.”

“I wasn’t openly flirting.”

“Call it what you want, there was chemistry, and I don’t need to fucking see it.”

Her cheeks blush as she nods in agreement. “Fair. Also, I think friends need to make sure that shirts are on at all times when friends have to use the shower.”

“Are friends attracted to friends with shirts off?”

“If we need to keep this as strictly no benefits, then I think we need to make sure shirts . . . and pants, for that matter, are on at all times.”

“That counts for both of us.” I point at her. “And no more of those . . . robes. For the love of God, put pajamas on.”

She chuckles. “I can do that.”

“Anything else?” I ask.

“I think we need to keep this as honest as possible, so if we’re doing something that bothers the other person . . . like if one friend feels like the other friend is stepping on their toes when it comes to their special baseball team, then the friend needs to say something and not bottle it up.”

“Honesty can work, as long as one friend doesn’t try to steal the other friend’s office.”

“Pretty sure that was already established,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

“Hey, if you saw the other closet of an office, you’d understand.”

“Maybe sometimes friends can share office space . . . you know, on occasion.”

“That can be arranged as long as friends remove all personal effects and try not to mark their territory with their perfume. It smells like you in there.”

“Well, it smelled like your cologne when I went in there, so . . . maybe you stop smelling nice.”

“Maybe friends forget about nice smells altogether. No perfumes, no colognes, no deodorants.”

Her nose curls up. “Veto, I say yes to deodorant.”

“Fine, but no perfumes and colognes.”

“Deal.” She cutely holds out her hand and says, “Should we shake on it?”

“No. Friends should not be touching friends.”

Her expression falls. “Okay, but before we go into this full-on friends with no benefits thing, could we possibly just . . . hug it out real quick? One last I’m sorry and we’re on the same page now type hug?”

How can I say no to that when she looks up at me with those unusual yet stunning eyes, practically begging?

“Yeah, we can do that,” I say, opening my arms. She steps right into my chest, her arms circling me as I do the same.

She squeezes me and says, “Sorry about everything, Ryland.”

“Yeah, me too,” I say, allowing this peaceful moment to exist for a second longer.

Letting my mind commit the feel of her to memory since it won’t be happening again.

I soak in her scent.

I log the feel of her arms around me.

And I memorize the height difference where she’s just short enough for me to rest my chin on the top of her head.

And after a second too long, I’m about to let go of her just as Hattie walks out of the kitchen with Mac.

“Why are they hugging?” Mac asks, her question immediately breaking me and Gabby apart, making us look infinitely more guilty than what we actually are.

“I don’t know, why are you hugging?” Hattie asks as she sets a box of cookies down on the counter.

“We’re friends,” Gabby says. “And we had an argument today, so we apologized and hugged.”

Mac looks at me. “You had an argument? Did you yell?”

“Uh, no. We didn’t yell. We just didn’t agree on something. We finally were able to say sorry, so we hugged it out, just like you and I hug it out when we sometimes get in an argument,” I answer.

She picks up her cookie on the counter and takes a bite, not saying another word.

To be a fucking kid again.

Hattie smirks and starts ringing up Gabby.

“How much do I owe you?” Gabby asks.

“I got it,” I say, pushing her hand back into her purse, which is holding her wallet.

“Oh, I can’t let you do that,” Gabby says.

“Let’s just say I owe you. For everything . . . including the shower inconvenience.”

She eyes me for a moment. “Well, it is pretty inconvenient.”

“So then the cookies are on me.”

“Trust me, it’s a fair deal if you have to deal with my brother,” Hattie says.

“Then I’ll take it.” She smiles up at me while she takes the box of cookies. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It was nice seeing you, Hattie.”

“Yes, come by again, and if you need some friends, feel free to come hang. Aubree is not as outgoing as I am, but we’re pretty chill. And our friend Echo would probably love a girls’ night as well.”

“Sounds great.” Gabby steps up and writes her number down on a piece of paper, then hands it to Hattie. “Text me.”

“Perfect. We will. Bye, Gabby.”

“Bye.” And then she takes off, the door shutting behind her.

Hattie steps around the counter and walks right up next to me, fanning herself with Gabby’s number. “Did I score her number before you did?”

I roll my eyes. “It doesn’t matter if you did or not. I’m not looking to score any number.”

I glance at Mac, who has picked up a pen and started drawing on a notepad, ignoring everything around her.

“I don’t know. That hug told me differently.”

I take Hattie by the arm and lead her to the new honey display. “Can you not make this a big deal? We’re trying to be friends . . . friends with no benefits. We’re keeping it strictly platonic, and I don’t need you chirping in my ear about her.”

“Friends with no benefits? How is that fun?”

“It’s not,” I say. “But I don’t have a choice. If I try to have benefits, I become possessive and angry, and I’m a dick around her, and I don’t want that. I need some semblance of control over my emotions, so if that means taking the attraction out of it, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Do you really think that’s going to work?”

“It has to,” I reply. “There isn’t another option.”

“Uh, there is. There’s the option that you give in to your attraction and see where it can go . . . maybe you could love her one day.”

“You know I don’t do love, Hattie,” I say sternly. “I don’t know love and want nothing to do with it.”

The disappointed look on her face is nothing new to me. I know she wants nothing more than for me to find someone I can spend my life with, like she found Hayes, but that’s just not me. That’s not going to happen. Loving someone leads to loss. And I’ve lost enough people in my life already. I’m also my father’s son. Enough said.

“Maybe you could.”

I look her in the eyes. “It’s not for me. Don’t push it, got it?” She nods even though I can tell she doesn’t want to agree with me. “Thank you. Now . . . am I going to have to pay for those cookies?”

Her mouth parts open in shock. “Uh, yeah, this isn’t a free ride. I have to make money.”

“I’m your brother.”

“Yeah, my brother who earns a paycheck, so help me earn mine.”

“Brutal,” I say as I grab my wallet and head back to the counter.

“Uncle Ry Ry?” Mac calls as I start to shut the door to the bedroom.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Can we go to the park tomorrow?”

“After I pick you up from school? Sure we can.”

“Can I bring the Chewys?”

“If you want,” I say. “But if they play on the playground, we have to wash them after. You know the rules.”

“They don’t like the washing machine.”

“Then they should stay in the truck while you play on the playground.”

She sighs heavily. “Okay.”

“Okay, good night.”

“Good night, love you, see you in the morning, sweet dreams.”

I smirk as I repeat her little saying. “Good night, love you, see you in the morning, sweet dreams.”

I shut her door, grab the laundry basket full of our dirty laundry, and carry it downstairs, careful not to trip over the toys on the stairs or the boxes scattered through the living room that Mac has now turned into forts.

I’m almost through the landmine of toys when I step on what I like to call Satan’s building blocks—a.k.a. Lego—and I’m immediately taken down to my knees as pain shoots up my leg.

“Motherfucker,” I say as the laundry basket scatters across the floor, and my foot radiates in pain. “Jesus.”

“Uncle Ry Ry?” I hear from the top of the stairs. “I heard a big crash.”

“Yup,” I say on a grunt.

And to my luck, that’s when Gabby opens the back door, ready to take her shower.

I’m on the floor, dirty clothes all over, with Mac racing down the stairs only to find me in the same position.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Mac asks, racing toward me.

“Mainly my pride,” I say as Gabby comes up to us as well and squats down.

“What happened?”

“Stepped on a Lego piece,” I say and sit up. I glance at Mac, and she looks guilty.

“Sorry, Uncle Ryland.” Her lips turn down, and she lowers her head.

“Hey, I’m fine.” I tug on her arm. “Let’s try to remember to pick up our toys before bed so this doesn’t happen, okay?”

She nods, and I can see those tears in her eyes start to form, so I pull her into a hug, then stand from the floor, my foot still in pain. I squeeze her tight as she wraps her legs around me.

“It’s fine. We just have to remember to work together as a team to keep everything clean, right?”

She nods. “Right.”

“We’ll try again tomorrow, and I’ll remind you.”

“Okay.”

“Come on, let’s get you back up to bed.”

I start heading to the stairs as Mac pulls her head away from my shoulder and says, “What is that cookie girl doing here?”

I chuckle because cookie girl is quite the name. “Remember, her name is Gabby, and she lives in the apartment above the garage. Her shower isn’t working, so she showers here at night.”

“Every night?”

“Yes,” I say as I look over at Gabby, who waves at Mac.

“How come I never see or hear her?”

“I’m pretty sneaky,” Gabby says. “And your uncle said I’m in big trouble if I wake you up.”

“What kind of trouble?” Mac asks. “Like time-out?”

“Yeah, like time-out,” I say, loving how innocent her mind is.

“Time-out is not fun.”

“Not even a little,” Gabby says. “That’s why I’m sneaky.”

“I’m sneaky too. I can show you.” Mac tries to wiggle out of my arms, but I hold her tight.

“You can show her another time. Right now, you need to get back to bed or else you’re going to be cranky. Do the Chewys like a cranky Mac?”

Mac dramatically shakes her head. “No, they don’t.”

“So we better get you some sleep, then. Say good night to Gabby.”

“Good night, love you, see you in the morning, sweet dreams.”

Gabby chuckles. “Good night, Mac.”

I spend the next few minutes getting Mac back into bed, singing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star with her, and then tucking her in just the way she likes it. Once I’m done, I turn off the hall light and head back down the stairs only to find the living room straightened up and the clothes put back in the laundry basket. I look around for Gabby, but she’s nowhere to be found. When I hear the shower, I realize she’s in the bathroom.

Jesus, she works quick.

I carry the laundry over to the laundry room, which is across from the bathroom. I can smell her soap coming from under the door and I mentally tell myself to ignore it.

Sure, it smells like heaven, but that doesn’t mean I need to blast the bathroom door down and bend her over.

We’ve turned a new leaf.

We’re friends.

We’re cordial.

We’re not animalistic barbarians seeking carnal pleasure whenever we so choose.

I focus on the laundry, starting it just as I hear Gabby turn off the shower. Feeling awkward, I take in the kitchen and how I already cleaned it up, but maybe I should wipe those counters down again.

I take out the Earth-friendly cleaner Cassidy was always adamant about using and spray down the counters, then I wipe them up with a microfiber towel. I do the same with the table, and once I’m done with that . . . I wipe down the chairs.

I move from the chairs to the fridge, and once that’s done, I’m about to go to the stove when the bathroom door finally opens, and Gabby pops out.

I turn around to look at her, and to my demise, she’s wearing pajamas, just like I asked her.

Dammit, I miss the robe already.

But new leaf.

Friends.

Focus on what’s important, Ryland.

“Hey.” I set the microfiber towel down. “How was your shower?”

“Fine,” she says. “How’s your foot?”

“Recovered.”

“That was quite the sight to see.”

“I’m just surprised a slew of curse words didn’t fly out of my mouth. If it were Aubree, Mac would still be repeating everything she heard.”

“Does she tend to do that?”

“All the time,” I say. “By the way, you didn’t have to clean up the toys. But thank you.”

“I did it for your pride, so you didn’t come downstairs and have another accident.”

“Well, it’s appreciated but not necessary. We can do things over here on our own.” I hear the words, and they come off as unappreciative, but I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t need the help, at least from someone I barely know.

“I’m sure you can, but I just thought I’d lend a hand . . . since we’re friends and all.”

“Thanks.” I shift uncomfortably, unsure of what else to say.

“Well, I’m going to get back to my apartment.”

“Cool, yeah. Oh hey, I was thinking, have you heard from Bennett recently?”

She pauses at the door. “I talk to him every day.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

I lean against the counter and say, “With the playoffs coming up, I wasn’t sure if he had any idea if he was moving up when the MLB teams expand to a forty-man roster.”

“He hasn’t mentioned anything. Then again, we don’t really talk about it because he feels a lot of pressure to move up. He’s ready, he just needs the call.”

“He was ready when he played for me,” I say. “Hopefully, he hears something soon. Would you fly out there for his first game?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I have a lot of responsibilities here, and I think I’d only go if he was going to start, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. Keep me updated. I’d love to know since I don’t have a lot of time to follow things like I used to.”

“I will.”

She starts to walk away again, and for some reason, I ask, “What does he think about you coaching his old team?”

She leans against the door and says, “He’s proud of me. Excited that I get to work with you since you were one of his favorite coaches. Can’t see why since you’re a bit of an ass.”

That makes me chuckle. “Only when I feel that I’m wronged. I’m a pretty decent guy. You’ll find out soon when we move from friends to best friends.”

She winces. “Ooo, I don’t know. Best friends is a bit of a commitment. I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t think I have the time for such a commitment either. If we take the pressure out of becoming best friends, that’s going to be best for us both.”

“Agreed. Just friends, but never best.”

I shake my head. “Never best.”

“Works for me.” She yawns. “Unless you have any other questions, I’m going to bed.”

“I do have one more thing,” I say, feeling like a total nimrod. I find a marker and an old receipt and hand it to her. “Can I have your number so I can contact you when need be?”

She smirks but takes the paper from me and writes her number down. “You could have just asked your sister for it.”

“And suffer the ridicule of her knowing she scored your number before me and never letting me live it down? No thanks.”

That makes her laugh. “Technically, she did.”

“We don’t need to get into technicalities. Let’s just say we both have it now.”

“If that will make you feel better, then fine.”

“It will.”

“I can see I’m working with a fragile ego over here. Noted.”

“Good that you see it now,” I say.

She smiles softly, then raises her hand. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

She takes off toward her apartment, and I watch out the window until she’s closed her door. That’s when I grab my phone and type her number into a new contact. Then I send her a quick text.

Ryland: It’s me, your landlord. Now you have my number as well.

It takes her a few seconds, but she texts back.

Gabby: That was quick. Here, I thought you were going to gatekeep your number a little longer so I wouldn’t have the opportunity to annoy you.

Ryland: The opportunity is always there, whether you have my number or not.

Gabby: Wow, and I cleaned up toys for you.

Ryland: Best you know now that I’m not going to be a super grateful asshole when things are done for me out of the kindness of your heart.

Gabby: Good to know. By the way . . . I like this side of you better, the side where you’re not snarling, just . . . sort of frowning in a way.

Ryland: My childhood created the perma frown. Get used to it.

Gabby: It seems like there are some things there to unpack, but being a product of childhood trauma as well, I’m not even going to ask.

Ryland: That’s refreshing.

Gabby: That’s what you can get with me, Ryland . . . a sense of refreshment.

Ryland: We’ll see. There’s still a lot to navigate.

Gabby: All I need is for you to give me a chance. From there, I’ll work my magic.