Page 33 of Second Chance Ex
“What flavors?” I ask.
Jack peers into the cabinet, his breath fogging up the glass. “Blue and rainbow, please.”
The woman working behind the counter looks at me for confirmation and I nod, flashing her a wink which makes her cheeks flush and secures Jack someextra sprinkles.
Jack is only six. My father’s son to his third wife who is, not surprisingly, only four years older than me and a heinous bitch. She leaves Jack with the nanny most of the time. Flitting off on girls’ weekends, or heading away with my father when he goes on his business trips. I feel for the little guy. And he’s the reason I chose to commit to the Grizzlies, and why I hope to stay close by in Sacramento. Well,oneof the reasons.
“Are you excited to go to your grandma’s house tonight?” I ask Jack as we walk outside to take a seat at one of the café tables lining the sidewalk.
Despite the chill in the air, it’s a beautiful day out; sunny and bright.
Jack licks his cone, nodding keenly. “She always lets me stay up late.”
I smile at my little brother, allowing him to enjoy his ice cream as I gaze out over the Main Street of Rosewood. But when I catch a glimpse of a familiar looking head of honey blonde hair across the street, I sit up a little straighter, eyes narrowing enough to make out Prue, dressed adorably in a pair of jean overalls, walking into Pete’s Hardware like a woman on a mission.
And I don’t know what I’m even thinking, but I’m suddenly up on my feet before I can stop myself. “Hey Jack, I forgot I need to pick up some… um… a hammer.”
Jack looks up at me, pausing mid-lick, his brows bunching together. “A hammer?”
“Uh, yeah. I need to—” Oh my god. I’m lying to my little brother like a total asshole. “I need to hammersomething,” I mutter, disgusted with myself. “Come on, buddy.”
“I haven’t finished my ice cream,” he objects.
I chuckle. “It’s okay. Just bring it with you. I’m sure Old Man Pete won’t mind if you drip ice cream over his cement floor. He owes me after I got him tickets to the playoffs, last season.”
Jack rolls his eyes but says nothing, hopping up and following me. I grab his hand and look each way before crossing the street, and then I’m walking through the doors of Pete’s, looking for a goddamn hammer.
“JT!” Billy, Pete’s teenage grandson, greets me from his perch behind the counter.
“Hey, Billy, how’s it going?” I ask, my gaze doing a furtive scan of the store.
“Not too bad,” Billy says. “Hey, I made varsity.”
“You did?” I hold a hand up, offering him a high five which he eagerly accepts. “Proud of you, bro.”
“Thanks, man.” Billy’s cheeks redden forcing him to dip his chin almost like he’s trying not to openly bask, but I say fucking own it. I was stoked when I first made the varsity team. “Uh, can I help you find something?” he asks, brows raised hopefully.
I shake my head, still trying to not too obviously search the expanse of the cavernous store for Prue. “Nah, bro. I’m just looking.”
“Hey, you said you want a hammer!” Jack chimes.
My jaw clenches, and I force a tight smile. “Oh, yeah. Right. Thanks, little brother.” I place a firm hand on Jack’s slight shoulder, and guide him away from the counter.
“Let me know if you need any help, JT!” Billy callsout after us and I throw him a wave over my shoulder, dragging Jack up and down a few aisles.
“There they are!” Jack points, stopping at a big display of hammers.
I inwardly groan. “Uh, no. I need a, um, a left-handed hammer.” Thank God he’s only six, is all I can say.
When we round the corner, I come to a stop at the sight up ahead. Prue is standing in front of the wall of paint swatches, studying two cards in her hands. And holy shit, she takes my breath away at the best of times, but I think casual Prue will always be my favorite. Leopard print Nike Air Max, denim overalls with a plain white t-shirt underneath, her honey blond hair pulled up high in a bouncy ponytail. No makeup. Nothing but a pair of sparkly studs in her ears. She’s both adorable and sexy as hell, and honestly, I don’t even know how she does it.
“Hey, it’s Miss Prue!”
I’m rendered frozen as my little brother’s shrill voice carries through the relative quiet of the hardware store.
Prue startles, turning, and her eyes go wide when they land on me.
“Hi, Miss Prue!” Jack waves, and then makes a run for her.
