“Did you really doubt that I would?” Smirking, I admired the straps that crisscrossed my foot and ankle. Damn, Daddy Wilson would love these shoes.
I frowned. I wasn’t supposed to be going there. Although we’d texted about the property and his new closer the whole time he was gone, I hadn’t seen him since the day I’d stopped by his office. The distance left a weird feeling bubbling inside me. It was Saturday, and I’d seen him on Thursday. It had been two days, and already, I…missed him—like, what?
I’d mocked women who sat at home crying while their men were away, but could I become one of those women in the span of a couple of days? No. It wasn’t possible.
He’d pulled back after I’d brought up how my parents and Avery would feel. And now we were more like friends. Although I didn’t think about my friends naked. So there was that.
I nibbled on my bottom lip.
“You’re going to make sure no one bothers my girl, right, Wren?” Chris hardly glanced back as he gave me the chin tilt greeting and pulled into traffic.
“I will always take care of her.” My tone was easy breezy, but guilt lingered in my stomach. Because although Daddy Wilson and I were only working together now, the feelings remained. I fell asleep thinking about him every night. I fantasized about his hands and his mouth on my skin. I longed to feel him again. The longing and fantasizing had been a thing for years, sure, but now that it was real…?
“Wren?” Avery was half turned in the passenger seat, looking back at me.
“What?” I blinked at her. Shit. I hadn’t heard a word she’d said.
“Chris asked if we wanted to meet up with Jana and Evan after.”
Normally I was the one leading the charge when a bar hop was on the horizon, but I could use a good night’s sleep. I had a list of art to track down, pages of paperwork for zoning rules to read through, and two more properties to research, not to mention contractors.
And none of that was for my job at the auction house.
I was trying to balance the two, but Tom’s project pulled me in more powerfully than my normal work. I would be lying if I said working on the file wasn’t also an excuse to text him.
“I probably can’t.”
Chris cocked a brow and eyed me in the rearview mirror. “Is our little Wren growing out of drunken hookups?”
I scoffed. “Never.” That was a blatant lie. I didn’t want a hookup. Even the idea made me feel icky. “Just busy at work.”
“Okay.” Avery nodded. “I don’t mind telling her we’re bailing. I only planned to go for you.”
A moment after she turned to face forward again, my phone buzzed in my pocket with what was most likely Avery’s response in our group message.
“Do you remember how to get there? You’re sure you don’t need me to walk you down?” Chris asked as he pulled up to the stadium.
“The first time I went to the Ground Zero was without you.” Avery shook her head. “And you know we won’t be harassed sinceliterallyno one but Revs and Bolts players and us WAGs can get in. We’ll be fine.”
“Overprotective athletes,” I teased, hopping out of his car so they could say goodbye without me.
Once Avery had stepped out onto the sidewalk, she linked her arm through mine as we headed past the security guards stationed at the player entrance. “I want to hear all about your trip. How’d you convince my dad to work with you?”
Now that she knew we were working together, she wouldn’t stop bugging me about it.
I swallowed past the trepidation rising up my throat and kept my tone easy. “I was shocked when I found out it was him. A heads-up would have been nice.” I narrowed my eyes at her. She and her father were close. She knew his schedule and knew he worked with our auction house. It stung a little, that she hadn’t told me he was the client I’d been dying to work with.
Avery shrugged. “I actually wasn’t sure he was the one buyingStonehengeuntil he got home. He’s so secretive about his art. I rarely know what he’s looking at.”
As opposed to me, who now had lists. I was the one he talked to about his plan and which pieces called to him. The idea that I might know him best sent elation tingling through me.
“But you two got along?” she asked as we made our way down the cinder block tunnels.
I nodded, lips pressed together, afraid my voice would crack or guilt would have me confessing.
“It’s weird how quiet you are about the topic.” She sighed as we stepped up to another pair of security guards blocking the door to the bar.
“He’s a client.” I’d use any excuse not to talk about it.