Page 2 of Running Risk

CLAYTON: NOW

My eyes follow my best friend’s gaze as he checks out every woman who walks by the construction site. “What are you doing?”

Avery straightens, scrambling to pick up a piece of wood. “I’m getting this piece level.” He motions toward the lumber as he puts it in the wrong place before running his fingers through his short brown hair.

He looks ridiculous, but the women can’t stop staring at him as they whisper and giggle to each other.

He’s trying to give them a show, but time is money.

I pull off my glove and use it to slap him on the back of the head.

He may be my construction site manager and a really good one at that, but I still have to keep an eye on him.

I think he does it on purpose when he hears me coming.

After knowing each other since high school, it doesn’t matter that I’m his boss, he loves being a pain in the ass.

“Get back to work. We don’t have any time to waste.”

In a dramatic display, he rubs the back of his head, his eyes darting to the group of women nearby, like he’s trying to garner their sympathy.

Folding my arms across my chest, I glare, making him straighten up.

“And put your hard hat back on.” I couldn’t be more different from him in this area.

I don’t have time for relationships or flirting, and I haven’t ever really wanted anything since high school.

A quick fling is all I have time for, but even that has been hard with the long days at work.

“Okay. Fine.” His shoulders sag. “We’re going to Jimmy’s tonight for a few beers after work. I’m tired of you blowing it off. I know you’re stressed with the deadlines to finish this house, but it’ll get done. We won’t if you work yourself to the bone.” He grabs my shoulder and nudges me.

I nod as he talks, but he doesn’t understand.

I need this business to be successful. When I’m not at the construction site, I have mounds of paperwork to go through or have to find new ways to advertise.

After I bought the business from the Thompsons, it wasn’t smooth sailing.

Mr. Thompson was exceptional at construction, and people don’t think I hold a candle to him, even though he’s the one who taught me everything I know.

He stayed involved just enough for most clients to stick around, but it hasn’t been easy getting new ones.

Mr. Thompson knew that his daughter, Rylee, didn’t want to take over the business, but as his mentee, he gave me the opportunity to buy it.

I’d been working for him for a few years, and he knew I cared about its success.

It made it an easy decision to jump at the offer to buy it.

Getting a loan wasn’t an option, so he offered to let me pay him monthly.

He’s been a father figure in my life, and I’ve always looked up to him.

“Okay. I’ll go for one beer.”

“Great.” He claps his hands together. “Two, it is.”

I exhale loudly as I walk away, stopping when workers need help. Before heading back to the office, I check on the progress everyone is making, knowing we’re getting down to the wire to finish this project by the estimated completion date.

Once it’s time to call it a day, all the hammering, drilling, and cutting halts, and I grab the blueprints and paperwork before I leave. As I park my truck at the bar, I rub my hands up and down my face.

“You know what I figured out?” Avery asks, meeting me at the front of my truck. I look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Rylee Thompson has been back in town for over three months, and you haven’t been to Jimmy’s since. Are you afraid you might run into her?”

I stiffen at the sound of her name. “No.” My eyes fix on him. “Now, let’s go inside before I change my mind.”

His laughter follows me. “You have to admit, it seems a little fishy.”

I pause in front of the door to the bar.

“I have a business to keep afloat. I don’t have time to worry about her.

” I know Avery can tell I’m lying, but there’s no way I’ll admit to avoiding my favorite bar because she’s back in town.

It’s one of the only places to go after work.

I know she doesn’t have a typical job, but she’s good at what she does.

I may have checked her social media over the last seven years more times than I can count.

She hates my guts, but I’m fine quietly avoiding her for as long as I have to.

Avery shakes his head, chuckling. Exhaling to clear my thoughts, my eyes narrow on him. But my mind always goes back to the brunette beauty who was my first love.

“Whatever. Let’s go,” I growl, throwing the door open.

Walking into Jimmy’s, the place is packed with people hovering around tables and near the bar.

We squeeze through the crowd, get a couple of beers at the bar, and find the last available booth to watch whatever game is playing on the TV.

Taking a sip from the cold bottle, I relax in my seat and savor it running down my throat, already feeling the stress of the day melting away.

I welcome the relaxation as I take another long pull of my beer .

“So are you going to tell me if the business is doing okay?” Avery leans over the table, concern written across his face. “Or are we still not doing well? Mr. Thompson would want to know if people aren’t hiring us,” he says before taking another sip of his drink.

I drain the rest of my beer and signal for another from a waitress walking by.

It doesn’t help that I’m not a people person.

“I’m not talking to Mr. Thompson. He’s done too much already, and I’m hiring outside help,” I admit.

Avery’s eyebrows shoot up. He knows how much I don’t like bringing in someone new.

“Is that so? What kind of help?”

“A designer.” As difficult as this is to admit, I need someone to tell the customers what’s possible after we’re done.

People need more than pictures of our past work.

They want fresh ideas. “I’m not great at talking with people, so they can help be that buffer and explain the possibilities.

” I take another long drink. It’s been hard to admit where I need help and what my faults are.

It’s something I’ve been working on with my therapist for years.

Avery’s eyes fill with pride as he slowly nods. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Getting the crew on board is important to me, and Avery is my right-hand. The workers report directly to him, and I know they will go along with it if he does.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the front door open, and a short brunette walks inside.

Looking around, her face lights up in a smile, and all the oxygen leaves my lungs.

I swear someone punched me right in my stomach, and I can’t remember how to breathe.

She’s wearing tight jeans that fit her like a glove and a black low-cut tank top with a plaid flannel button-up shirt, showing off a mouth-watering amount of cleavage.

Her hair reaches the small of her back with soft curls.

I can’t pull my eyes away as she floats through the room, meeting up with two girls at a table toward the back.

Her eyes sparkle as she greets her friends, and she’s just as gorgeous as I remember.

“Hello? Earth to Clay . . . ” Avery snaps his fingers in front of my face.

My attention whips back to him. “What?”

A deep laugh escapes his mouth. “Oh, no.” He motions to her table. “Go right on ahead and eye-fuck Rylee as I sit right here.” He smirks, leaning back in the booth as he presses his beer to his mouth.

I send him a glare, only making him laugh harder.

He needs to shut up because I don’t want her to see me.

Oh, shit. I have to get out of here. I knew I shouldn’t have come.

This was exactly what I’ve been wanting to avoid.

She made her distaste for me clear the last time I saw her.

I’d rather not hear about it all over again, and I don’t think I could take it a second time.

“I’m going to take off.” I go to slide out of the booth, but Avery pounds his fist on the table, making me pause and raise an eyebrow. The grin growing across his face looks like a Cheshire cat, and I know he’s about to stir shit up.

“No. I think we’re having another beer.”

I shake my head.

“Or—” he continues, taking another sip. “I’ll get up on this table and sing along with the music, so everyone in this bar looks this way. No doubt getting a certain brunette’s attention.” His eyes flick to Rylee.

I ball my hands into fists but make no move to get up. If I didn’t need him, I’d fire his ass right here on the spot.

“Great.” He blindly grabs a woman’s arm who walks by our table. “Hey, could we get two more beers?” He motions to our empty bottles.

“If you get your lazy ass up and mosey up to the bar, I’m sure they’d be happy to help you,” a sweet voice says, pulling out of his grasp .

Our heads whip around and look at who he stopped.

Shit. It’s one of the girls from Rylee’s table, not a waitress.

She has short blonde hair, and she’s someone who clearly isn’t afraid to stand up for herself.

Turning my head away, I adjust my baseball cap, lowering it over my eyes.

With any luck, this girl has no idea who I am, but I’m pretty sure we went to high school together.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry!” Avery gets out of the booth, putting his hand on his chest. “I thought you were a waitress with how fast you were moving. I assumed you were going to put in orders or something.”

“And yet, you stopped me thinking I was busy only to give me something else to do?” She puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she looks up at him.

“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Again, I’m sorry. Let me buy you a drink as an apology.” He gives her a smile that usually has women falling at his feet.

I shake my head. He’s always been smooth even after he fucks up. Maybe he’ll be distracted enough for me to slip out.

“Trish, what’s taking so long? Do you need sav—” A beautiful voice says, then cuts off.

I’d know that voice anywhere. I look up only to find Rylee staring right at me. Shock flashes across her face, then hurt, before it finally morphs into anger.

“Clayton,” she nearly growls.

I nod, keeping my face blank.

“Still talkative, I see.” Rylee glares at me up and down before turning to her friend, whose eyebrows are raised.

“I was coming to see if you needed saving, but if you’re hanging around this table—” she pauses, her eyes zeroing in on the scar above my eyebrow before sending daggers at me once again.

“I’ll wait for you over there.” Her friend opens her mouth, but Rylee storms away .

“Good to see you, Rylee,” Avery calls across the bar.

She lifts a hand in the air as a farewell as her long hair sways behind her, and I hang my head, scooting out of the booth. Avery knows better than to stop me now.

“See ya,” I mumble.

He claps me on the back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I still want to finish our talk.”

I open and close my hands in and out of fists and walk right out the front of the bar. After successfully avoiding her after all this time, of course, the one night I go out, there she is. Not even a glimpse of the girl I used to know when I scanned her face.