Amber was incredible. She was knackered and grumbled like the rest of us but quickly reined herself in and got on the best she could. She also stopped being a dick after the first three days of being home and accepted our help more readily when we reminded her she didn’t have to go this alone. As far as I was concerned, I was this kid’s uncle, and I’d do my best to make sure she and her mum were happy and well cared for.
But those smiles weren’t all about Ivy.
Ryan Broadwater was doing a hell of a job at worming his way back into my life. This morning was no exception. I glanced down at the text.
Ryan: Did you catch the result?
I smirked. I expected Ryan would be back on a bus or in a hotel or something, since his game had finished about an hour ago. Our time difference worked out well, considering when he played, it was usually late morning here.
Me: Did I miss something?
I was an arsehole. I’d been following the updates as they came in on ESPN, the notifications popping up on my desktop while I worked in the office. When his team had won, a fist pump may have happened, and that he’d scored an early triple had got my heart racing.
Ryan: Nah. Not much, just me being a dead set legend.
My heart squeezed tight and had done so constantly over the past few weeks since Ivy had been born.
Me: Legend, huh? How’d those misses work out for you?
Ryan: Flipping you off right now, wiseass.
Me: Wise*arse*… It’s pretty fine and definitely wise.
As soon as I hit Send, I froze. What the hell was I doing? Was I flirting, or was this simple bantering, the usual sort of shit we got up to and said to each other as kids? I frowned hard, not quite sure anymore.
Ryan: Not sure about the latter.
I shoved away from my desk, my office chair rolling backward, more than aware I was overthinking and quite possibly freaking out about this unnecessarily. This was just us having a laugh, right?
“Everything all right in here?” Patrick stuck his head around the door, his brows dipped low.
I nodded quickly, realizing my movement had been somewhat dramatic, and had pushed a box of papers onto the floor. “Yeah. Just knocked this over.”
“Need a hand?”
“Nope. All good, thanks.”
He remained in the doorway a beat, looking me over. I bent and focused on placing the papers in the box while willing the heat in my cheeks to bugger off.
“Okay,” Patrick finally said. “Give me a yell if you need anything. You also wanted me to remind you about the mower rep coming in. They should be here in an hour.”
“Great, thanks.” I risked a look in his direction, relieved I was alone. Once I sorted the box, I resettled behind my desk, finding new messages waiting for me.
Ryan: Have I lost you?
Ryan: Where’d you go?
Ryan: Gotta go. Coach wants a word. Chat later.
I exhaled and stretched out my neck before flicking off a message.
Me: Good game, Broadwater.
I distracted myself from Ryan’s text as best as I could, trying not to wonder if he was saying my butt was fine. That line of thinking would only drive me to despair. I was sure of it. When Patrick appeared in the doorway again, saying Tallis had arrived, I stood up quickly, relieved for the break.
Once in the storefront, I caught sight of the guy I assumed to be Tallis, the rep from John Deere. “Tallis?”
“Yeah, mate. You Nate?”
