Wrong Text, Right Reply: A Sweet Accidental Romance (An Accidental But Perfect Romance Book 1)

by Bonnie Sweets

  Glancing up at David while waiting for her reply, I can’t help myself. “Do girls have some kind of code or something where they have to understand each other’s freak outs?”

  Distracted, David barely flicks his gaze my direction before shrugging. “I don’t know much about girls except they want this.” He backhandedly waves to his body. “All the time.”

  “Yeah, that’s why you’re single all the time.” I roll my eyes in disgust. Why would I ask David anything about women? He had the ability to get one date, max two with the same woman until she realizes he’s a pig and not into commitment or anything but himself.

  The woman who got him to change would be a bona fide Super Human. With a cape and everything.

  Savvy: No. He didn’t. I just… It scared me.

  Me: Well, what was so scary about what he did?

  Savvy: I don’t… I don’t know. You’re right? Except I don’t know if I want to date right now. I don’t even know if I want to get married ever again.

  Me: Except, he didn’t propose. He isn’t doing anything romantic with you. He’s taking you and the kids. How romantic can that be?

  Savvy: You’re right.

  Me: What do you have to lose? Maybe he just wants to be friends.

  I don’t just want to be friends, but wouldn’t a girlfriend say something supportive like that? I rack my brain for the things I’ve heard Christina say to her friends.

  Savvy replies before I come up with anything else.

  Savvy: You’re right. It’s not like he’s proposed or anything. I don’t know what my problem is.

  Savvy: Now I feel stupid. Ugh, I’ll be back. I need to apologize. I still don’t have his number. Thanks, KT. You’re the best.

  But I’m not the best. My palms grow damp as I set my phone down on the counter and then immediately grab it and shove it into my jean pocket. David is around. I can’t take any chances.

  Before I can stand to try to make myself look busy, my phone buzzes again. I pull it out of my pocket and wince as I see caller-id. Before answering, I mutter to David. “Dad’s calling.”

  He drops his phone to his lap, his eyes wide as I close mine and lift the phone to my ear. “Hi, Dad. How are you?”

  “Knox, I’m fine. Thank you.” Everything with Dad is so formal. Sometimes I’m surprised he lets us call him Dad instead of Sir or Father.

  “Good. How’s Mom?” I always ask about Mom. She’s one of those sweet gentle souls that thinks the best of everyone. You could be a murderer and she’d offer you cookies and consider you a confused and lonely person, assume you didn’t have enough afternoon snacks as a child.

  “Your mother is fine.” There’s a brief, uncomfortable pause as I wait for the reason he called and he waits to see if we’ve dispensed with all of the required social civilities.

  “You’re probably wondering why I’ve called.” Understatement of the century, Dad. He continues as if it’s perfectly normal for him to call me in the middle of a weekday that isn’t a holiday or my birthday. He doesn’t call. We don’t have that kind of relationship. “Your mother would like you and David to come for dinner with Christina and the family this weekend. Sunday would be best.” It’s not an invitation. It’s more of a You’ll be here or I’ll know the reason why. “Tell your brother, would you.” Again, not a request.

  “I’ll talk to David about it, but we can’t both come at the same time, Dad. We have the trailer open and Sunday is one of our biggest days. Why don’t you guys come down on Sunday and eat here? On us. Bring Christina and the family and Mom and we can do a family gathering here. You can try my brisket. It’s gotten the North Idaho Foodie award the last two years in a row for best meat.” I can’t help being proud of that fact.

  In north Idaho, it isn’t easy being an eatery. The competition is fierce and if you get the loyalty of a local, them and their friends will keep you going through the non-touristy seasons. Not to mention, they’ll push you on their social media platforms and tell all their friends’ friends and family.

  My dad has no respect for the difficulty of the industry. “No. We won’t be coming down. I would like to see my sons doing real work. Respectable work. You’re both old enough to be working real jobs and having real relationships. As soon as I see something like that, I’ll be there to support it. I’ll see you Sunday.” And the call ends, leaving me staring at the piece as I lower it to waist level.

  “What’d he want?” David hovers at my elbow, and not because he’s nosy. Well, yes, I mean, he is nosy, but that’s not why he’s hovering now.

  We both have a love-hate-fear-respect thing with Dad. Neither of us make him abundantly proud since we’re in our thirties and single still. Neither of us have a serious job according to him.

  So, in my dad’s book, we’re failing at being men.

  I sigh, shoving my phone back in my pocket and shaking my head. “He said he wants us to get real jobs.” I pull on the thick, black, polyester apron I wear during busy shifts and angrily scrub at a stray spot of BBQ sauce that escaped my inspection earlier.

  David sighs and I don’t let him say anything before I’m venting, rather loudly with a heavy-duty sponge and some bleach water. “Real job. Real job? I’ll give him a real job.” I lift the sponge into the air, drops of the cleaning water splattering on the wall from my movement. “You know what? I work my butt off, David. We both do.”

  “Actually, you don’t. I mean you work hard, yes. But your butt is perfect. I would kill for a butt like yours.” David folds his arms and stares at me.

  I drop the sponge to the counter, bracing my arms on the edge and slowly turn my gaze to my brother. I don’t say anything as I stare at him with a definite “what did you just say” expression.

  He blinks as I stare him down. “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t actually kill for it. I mean, I would… Like, there are exercises… I…”

  I shake my head and wave my hand at him. “No. Just no. Shut up. There’s no saving that comment. Let’s just pretend you didn’t say it.” I sigh and swipe the back of my hand across my forehead where my hair has fallen forward. I need to put my hat back on.

  I glance out the window at Killer Miller Keto. Phone number. I need to get a new number to give her. In just a few moments, I’ve added a new line to my phone account and arranged for someone to courier it to my trailer in the next hour or so.

  I’m already not mad at her anymore. She said she was coming to apologize and I can see she has customers holding her up. Plus, I’m not the type to hold grudges. I don’t have time or energy for that.

  I read back over our conversation and realize that what I need to do is leave her a couple notes that she doesn’t have to leave herself.

  But will leaving notes make her think I want more than just friendship?

  At this point, I hope so. Because I do. And I somehow have to figure out how to break down the walls she’s built around herself and have her agree with me on the relationship possibilities.

  Because someone like Savvy wants commitment, she just doesn’t know it.

  Chapter 17

  Savvy

  I’m definitely an idiot. There’s no other word I can think of to describe the way I feel about how I acted with Knox.

  KT is right. He wasn’t proposing marriage or even saying I had to do anything I didn’t want to do.

  Plus, and this one I have to acknowledge, at least to myself. I’m hugely attracted to the man and he keeps saving the day for me when I least expect it. I had to ask Keith to help me just take out the garbage repeatedly and that was the only thing I ever asked him to do.

  Knox kind of shows up out of nowhere with an uncanny ability to fix whatever is going crazy with me.

  If we don’t date, I need to at least keep him as a friend. And friends don’t freak out on friends.

  At least, not without apologizing.

  A group of men approach the Mexican trailer and Sylvia flirts them into big orders. I’ve seen this happen time and time again. Her conf
idence in her ability to manipulate men astounds me and I’ve never failed to be completely fascinated by it.

  I’ve seen David, Knox’s brother, do some amazing sales with the women who come to their trailer.

  And that’s when it hits me. I know exactly what Knox needs to do to get back at David and how I can help. The idea is the incentive I need to get my butt over to the BBQ trailer and apologize.

  But still I wait. The next lull in customers should be really soon because I’m going to leave my trailer unattended for a few minutes to talk with Knox and if David is there, I need him to leave his trailer, too.

  The lull hits and I walk carefully across the gravel lot.

  Once I’m at the window, I spy David inside and smile. “Hey, is Knox here?”

  “Hey, Savvy. You coming over here for some brotherly love?” David wiggles his eyebrows and grins lasciviously at me. That’s the only word I can apply to David. Lascivious.

  “I’m here. Just a minute, I’ll come out.” Knox waves at David from the side before disappearing out the trailer. “Be quiet, David. You’re not to talk.”

  In seconds Knox stands beside me and nods toward the collection of tables set up in the middle of the loop where everyone can take their food to eat.

  Each of the trailers takes turns maintaining the tables and this week it’s the job of the Greek trailer. The Greek trailer is owned by a Russian family. I love seeing the kids out cleaning the tables. Their mother values hard work and it shows.

  We’re at the tables before I can fully formulate what I want to say, but I smile and swallow my nerves. “Look, two things.” I don’t even wait for us to sit, but we do while I talk. “One, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out on you. We would love to go with you, but where?”

  Surprised, Knox studies me. The dark of his eyes seems to caress me and I feel heat running up and down my legs and I blame it on the sun. Except… We’re in the shade.

  I shift on my seat to adjust my awareness of him.

  “I forgive you. Let’s leave our activity a surprise.” He smiles at me and I want to leave it at that, but I can’t.

  I shake my head. “Okay, so you know that book you brought back to me?” He nods and I continue. “That’s my planner. And… I…” Oh, my word, I’m so embarrassed, but I need him to know. “Look, I don’t do anything that’s not written in that thing. I can’t.”

  “You’re pretty attached to it, huh?” He studies me and I figure, why not just be completely open with him? KT is right, what do I have to lose?

  Sighing, I lift my hands palm up before dropping them to my lap. “I don’t just like it. There was a guy in high school I was pretty serious about. I… I would even have said I loved him. His name was Paul. Well, Paul broke up with me… Because if something wasn’t in my planner, I wouldn’t do it. I literally wouldn’t let him kiss me. He would show up spontaneously and I would send him away. He couldn’t figure it out. So, when he broke up with me, I forced myself to put my planner away. I only let myself carry around a pocket calendar. I made myself change for this guy and he never wanted me back, anyway.” I shrug, my smile tight. “Keith left me… And, I let myself use a planner again. I literally won’t give it up now.”

  “Okay.” Knox’s reply is simple and I study him.

  “Okay? What does that mean?” I’m getting snippy again, but I can’t help it. Okay?

  “Well, you have a planner problem. Okay. What’s the big deal? I’m asking you with enough notice to go out with me on Sunday. Put it in your planner.” He’s looking at me like I might have a goose head growing out of my forehead.

  “No. I mean, yes, but what I’m telling you is I don’t do surprises. I need time to plan and to pack and to prepare. I do not do surprises. Surprise parties? Nope. Last minute is super hard for me, too. You caught me on a good day last Sunday. And when you left…” I drop my gaze.

  How far am I taking my confession? All the way. He needs to know beforehand what he’s getting into. “Look, I felt so out of control last weekend when you took the kids last minute, I got lost in the pantry until my kids rescued me.”

  “You got lost in the pantry?” His confusion spurs me on.

  “I… went into my pantry and binged, okay?” Please, don’t make me say anything else.

  “Ah, okay. I can understand that. What does a keto binge look like? Lots of fats? Eating butter straight from a stick?” He grimaces and I blink.

  Crud monkey. He thinks I eat keto, too. Great. I’ll forever be stuck to the brand of my truck.

  I change the subject. Kind of. “So, surprises are out for me. Let me know as soon as you know what we’re doing. That’s all.”

  “Okay, we’ll do Silverwood.” He smiles at me like it wasn’t that hard to come up with something on the spur of the moment.

  I can’t afford Silverwood. I lick my lips and start to say something about it but he cuts me off. “My treat. I’ve been wanting to go for a while, but it’s not a place you go by yourself. So, the whole day, on me. Okay? Now, what is number two?”

  Number two. Oh, that’s right. I told him I had two things.

  “Number two, right.” I glance past his shoulder to the BBQ truck and then back at Knox. “Okay, I know how to get back at David.”

  His eyes light up and he leans forward. “Do tell.”

  But the next wave is coming, so I stand as people start to wander into the lot. “Just be dressed nice for Friday night. I’ll text my friends what I need them to do. You play along. I’ll get you as many details as I can before then, but let’s start with that.” I smile and wave my fingers at him.

  He smiles and watches me walk away. I try not to let my hips sway too much, but at the same time just a little won’t hurt…

  At the trailer, I get caught up in serving my customers and time passes quickly.

  My phone rings as I climb into my car after closing.

  “Hi, Abby. Is everything okay?” Starting the car, I back out of my parking spot with Abby on my Bluetooth device.

  “Mom, Spike is so big she can’t fit through the cat door. What do I do?” Abby is fifteen. Is this really this hard?

  “Open the door and let her in.” I’m at the freeway entrance and pulling on the on-ramp. “What is she doing now?”

  “She’s pacing. She paces and then stops and lays down flat and then gets up after two minutes and paces some more. I’ve never seen her so antsy.” Abby’s worry touches my heart. We all love Spike. We got the cat shortly after Keith left and used her for emotional support.

  “She’s okay. She’s just getting close. I bet we have the newborn kittens before the weekend is out.” I’m trying to be optimistic, but I’m not sure how I can add kittens to my already packed to-do list. “I’ll be home soon. Make sure your homework is done and you have lunch made for tomorrow. Is Dex okay?”

  “Yeah, we’re good. All of that is done. See you when you get home. Love you.” Abby is having a night of less attitude. I love these nights.

  We hang up and I’m home in minutes.

  Inside, I kiss the kids goodnight and do my own after-work routine, checking things off my list as I go.

  Settling in the bath, I pull up my phone and text KT.

  Me: My cat is so close to having babies. Look at how big she is.

  I send an updated picture. I know I’ve told KT about the cat situation, but I need to tell someone how worried I am.

  KT: That’s going to be exciting. I’ll need to get a baby from you when they’re ready.