Page 70 of Holiday Home 4

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A is for Avril

How Liam had thought March 23rd, the penultimate Saturday before the trip, would go, and how it ended up going, could not have been further apart. He hadthoughthis early afternoon would be devoured by another fruitless attempt at beating an emotionless, merciless chess aficionado in her backyard. Instead, his early afternoon belonged to a vivacious redhead, belting out the song on her radio while the lowered top of her Porsche 911 Turbo allowed the wind to batter them as they zoomed toward the city center.

She’d started by picking him up. That, even, had left him caught off guard.

Because Avril Knight owned an Audi RS7. And that, as he found out, was still true. However, again, underestimating her family’s wealth, he hadn’t realized that certain cars were for certain seasons. And spring was blooming around them, which meant a luxury sports car with the top down was the way to go.

Another epiphany had struck him while he stared at her, smiling and beckoning him toward this new vehicle. It wasn’tthatnew. He’d seen it before, in fact. He’d seen a wholefleetof cars, and not just once. Every single time he went into Avril’s bedroom, he saw this exact car—and many others.

“Avril…” he’d asked, mouth askew. “How many cars do you own?”

“Me, personally? Eight. Kind of. One’s sort of up in the air. But the answer’s pretty much eight.”

After dwelling in the internal version of her bedroom he’d constructed in his head before asking this question, Liam realized that the number matched. She ownedeightcars. Why was that shocking—learning that she owned so many cars? It shouldn’t be. Not by this point.

Yet even with this new revelation, hestillunderestimated her. He still hadn’t fully grasped the secret he’d failed to discover. For all these months, he was the only member of their group still in the dark. And he only became aware of it because Avril had finally decided to bludgeon him over the head with it.

It, in this scenario,was a stadium.

They pulled into a parking lot that was mostly empty but could hold thousands of cars—and would get to prove it in just four days. However, what reason was there for visiting four days early? Opening Day wasn’t yet here, so the only people whowerehere ought to be those prepping things for the start of theBandits’ season. So, why were they here? What were they going to do?

Go inside, of course. Like that had ever been in question.

Avril parked them close to one of the stadium’s entrances, then removed her sunglasses and left them behind. Stretching her arms above her head, Liam couldn’t help but run his eyes down her voluptuous body. When she’d picked him up, he’d stared then, too.

Today, with a curious length of duct tape covering the name, she was wearing the jersey he’d gifted her on Christmas Eve. The hat had made the trip too, though Avril only now threw it on, sliding her auburn ponytail out of the gap in its back. She wasn’t wearing much else. Some rather short shorts completed her ensemble. She looked ready for game day.

So did the stadium, from whose towering walls hung numerous banners, heavy enough that the wind couldn’t move them much. Each one celebrated a particularly successful season in the team’s history. Several celebrated divisional accomplishments, but a handful proudly reminded people of the seven times the Bandits had brought home the Commissioner’s Trophy, which still seemed like an odd name for the trophy you got for winning the World Series.

“Let’s go, babe,” Avril said, hopping out of her vehicle. Liam obediently, if uncertainly, followed.

The gate she’d put them near was one of the few unsealed gates, and a security guard, an older woman with frizzy but still vibrantly red hair, manned its post. And Liam Carr, naturally, was appropriately dense and gullible enough—as if every redheaded person in the world were related—to wonder if she was Avril’s aunt and if Avril had used that connection to get them in before Opening Day had arrived.

He just couldn’t help but underestimate her. It was a kink in his genetic makeup, at this point.

“Hey, Rose,” Avril said, tossing her a flippant wave.

“Hello, Miss Knight,” the security guardswoman said, smiling welcomingly.

Well, there went his aunt and niece theory. Unless Avril belonged to a family where elderly respect was swapped on its head, and the younger family members received respectful titles. She could have. He’d have believed that.

“Things looking good inside?” Avril asked, leaning her weight on one of her long, attractive legs and peering down the tunnel Rose guarded. “Little less hectic today?”

“I think so. But you know how it is; everyone’s in a tizzy until the jets zoom overhead and the first pitch is thrown.”

Avril nodded sagely, then glanced at him. “Rose, Liam. Liam, Rose.” She directed her attention back at the security guard. “Well, have a good one, Rose. Want me to dig something out from the concessions on our return trip?”

“Chex Mix?” Rose asked, to which Avril threw a thumbs up over her shoulder as she headed into the tunnel. As she walked along a path that could have been made for giants, the cement archway above her head some fifteen to twenty feet high, Liam spent a few moments in total stupor. From Rose, he received a look of curiosity. From Avril, once she glanced over her shoulder and saw that he wasn’t following behind, he earned a “have you figured it out yet” smirk.

The realization hit him like a freight train.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

B is for…

Come onnn,” Avril said, giving him no time to process what he’dfinallyrealized. She kept walking, nonchalant in the face of the earth-shattering revelation that had come down on him like a thunderbolt. Only to avoid further perplexment from Rose did Liam, head spinning like a top, order his feet to head forward. His pace was sluggish, like he’d been physically mugged and was limping out of an alleyway.

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