“Yeah, because Coach was being a total grump at practice all of last week, even on Saturday, when we won. And he worked so hard at the surprise, too. Even when Dad told him about a hundred times that he didn’t need to help.” She shook her head, and I shook mine in confusion, too. “Maybe it’s the curmudgeons on his b—”
“María,” Tony blurted out. “Not that again, Jesus. Just tell Miss Adalyn about the shed already.”
Cameron grunted.
I frowned. “The shed?”
“Fiiiiiine,” María stretched out the word. “Coach Cam had my dad and brother redo the shed into an office. For you. It’s tiny but Coach helped and he was very proud before you got here. It will look super cute, I promise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Adalyn
The Green Warriors won a second time.
Cameron said it was because of the new uniforms. The girls had absolutely loved them, because, as María had pointed out, they slayed. They really did slay. The shirts were charcoal black and mint green, with every player’s name and number printed in pastel pink on the back, and the Miami Flames logo on the front. I’d ordered shorts and socks in green and black, so the girls could pick. And I’d gone as far as getting a skort that resembled a tutu for Chelsea. It hadn’t been easy to find but she’d been so excited and shocked that I thought she’d stopped breathing for a second. Even Diane had been touched. But I wasn’t responsible for the win. The girls were. They’d played a good game. And that wasn’t on me.
It was all because of Cameron.
Cameron, who at yesterday’s game had worn the matching tracksuit I’d ordered for him. And Cameron, who I was currently avoiding.
He’d built me an office. So I wouldn’t need to sit on the bleachers. He’d paid for it out of his own pocket, and worked on it with Robbie, in secret. So while I was on his couch, plopped there like some kind of… wounded damsel, he’d been sweating building shelves. María had spat out all the details.
So, for the last few days, ever since the office reveal, I’d been a little angry. At myself, not him, because that had been the nicest, most thoughtful thing anyone had done for me. Ever. The reason I was avoiding Cameron was because I couldn’t, for the life of me, think clearly when he came close. I melted away and all I could think of was that office. The scones he’d brought me this morning. The way his hand fell on my thigh. The beard he was so keen on keeping neat and trimmed. The urge to touch it, and him, again.
Ugh.
With a sigh, I scanned the stands before me, hoping—needing—to distract myself with the fall fest. There was an empty stage—which I hoped didn’t imply another boogie night—a few food stands, a crafts and arts booth… Josie’s Joint.
I walked up to Josie’s coffee stand and blinked at the colorful display in front of me. There were pumpkins at the foot of the booth, red apples hanging from strings, tiny bales of hay decorating the bottom and the roof. There was even what looked like a… scarecrow. Female, judging by the braids, thick lashes, rosy cheeks, and the sign hanging from her neck: CARVE THE PATRIARCHY, ONE PUMPKIN AT A TIME.
Without warning, Josie’s head popped up from underneath the kiosk, startling me.
“Oops,” she said with that characteristically big smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… scarecrow you.” A wink was thrown my way. “How do you like my booth? I’ve decided to lean more into my feminist strike this year. You know, with my who-needs-men policy and all.”
“Men really are the last thing we need sometimes,” I agreed. “And I love the booth. The town looks incredibly festive, but this is definitely my favorite spot.”
She laughed, and it was bright and lighthearted and it made me wonder if I ever sounded that carefree. “As you can see,” she said, spreading her arms, “no one does a fall festival like us. It’s where the mountains meet southern charm.” Her hands dropped. “Anyway, what can I get you?”
“What do you recommend?”
Her smile widened, those light blue eyes twinkling. She pulled out a board with the drink specials and set it in front of me. “Josie’s Pumpkin Kick is my personal favorite. But if you’re in the mood for something real strong, then I suggest you go for the Campfire Fizz. And last but most certainly not least, the Cocoa Apple Heart if you’re not in the mood for caffeine.”
I stared at the board and the woman by its side, suddenly… happy to be here. In Green Oak. “I’ll have the Cocoa Apple Heart, it sounds amazing.”
“Whoa,” she said, her expression changing. “You’re smiling really big right now, and for some reason I feel like I should give you a hug. Do you want one?”
“Okay,” I heard myself whisper. Next thing I knew, Josie’s body was sticking out of the booth and squeezing me. I squeezed back. “I’m sorry,” I said when she released me. “I was feeling very grouchy today. And the idea of one of your drinks cheered me up. Even the scarecrow did, and I never liked them that much.”
Josie chuckled. “You know what?” Her eyes trailed behind me for a moment, and then she said, “I think I’m going to prepare a complimentary Campfire Fizz. There might be someone you want to gift it to?” That gave away what she was looking at in the distance. Who. “In the meantime, you can tell me what he did for you to be grouchy.”
I opened my mouth to shoot the conversation down, but—“He built me an office. Out of the shed by the practice field. He helped with, like, his hands and tools or whatever.”
Josie nodded slowly. “And that is…” She trailed off, pulling out a box filled with syrup bottles from underneath the bar.
“Good,” I answered. “It’s thoughtful. And sweet.” Her smile widened. “And it’s also really bad,” I added, to which she frowned. “I don’t know. I can’t decide. I’m not used to these things.”
“To things like… someone going out of their way for you? Slowly earning your trust? Taking care of you? Flirting? Wanting to bang the crap out of y—”
“Josie,” I whispered.
She smirked. “Just saying it like I see it.”
Was Cameron doing all those things? I thought he was, but then again, what did I even know?
“He really did a number on you, huh?” Josie said with a long exhale. “Cameron is not whoever hurt you so badly. He’s not a bad guy. He’s quite the opposite, in fact.” Josie shook her head. “The man’s like a nut. Tough to crack, but a softie at heart. Just like you. Maybe you should give him a chance.” She lifted her eyes from her work, meeting mine. “You should give yourself a chance.”
Give myself a chance.
I swallowed, trying to push down the sudden knot of emotion clogging my throat. I averted my eyes, feeling overwhelmed by Josie’s words.
María materialized in the distance. She was with some of the girls from the team, all of them carrying caramel apples on long sticks. She spotted me and waved at me very enthusiastically.
I waved back.
“That kid adores you, you know?” Josie said, recapturing my attention.
When I looked back at her, she was opening a carton of milk. “The feeling is mutual.”
Josie smiled. “That’s good to hear.” She grabbed one of those small metallic pitchers off a shelf. “I think she changed one of the baby goats’ names to Adalina.”
I huffed out a laugh. “I guess it could have been worse.”
“Not everyone in town gets the privilege of having one of the Vasquezes’ animals named after them.” She chuckled but sobered up quickly. “Jokes aside, I think she looks up to you. You must remind her of her mom.”
I didn’t understand how such a warm and happy child could find anything remotely motherly about me, but I did care for the kid. I cared about María. And hearing that made me feel immensely honored. “How long ago did she pass?”
“When María was about six,” Josie explained with a sad tilt to her lips. “The Vasquezes got here when Tony was little, bought a dying farmhouse and brought her back to life. They’ve done more for the community in a few years than most have in generations. And Robbie still offers to host every single activity or party in town. Most of them without any compensation in return. The landmark where we are right now, for example, belongs to the farm.”