Page 4 of The Love Ambush (The Sullivans #1)

Levi

I have every right to still be pissed at Gentry. She assumes the worst of me and has been nothing but rude since I moved back to town. I apologized for ghosting her. I practically groveled.

But it’s not enough for Gentry. She still looks at me like I’m a piece of dirt stuck to the heel of her shoe.

She took my breath away that day in the drugstore almost two years ago. She was a stranger to me at first, just a woman who worked at the store. I was going to ask her to point me in the right direction for first-aid supplies.

Then she turned around, and I forgot how to breathe for a moment.

Gentry Lendew was pretty at nineteen, prettier at twenty, but at twenty-two, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

That narrow face, with those full lips and hazel eyes that pierce straight to my core every time she glares at me.

With her pale, creamy skin and thick, dark hair, she could be a princess from a fairy tale, even if she acts more like the evil witch.

But I didn’t know that when she faced me in that drugstore. All I knew was that none of my promises to myself to hold off on dating until I was fully settled back in Catalpa Creek meant anything anymore. A silly promise wasn’t going to keep me from asking her out again.

Unfortunately, she hates me. And as pissed off as she makes me every time we interact, I’ve only grown to like Gentry more, even from a distance.

The way she’s working her ass off for a career she’s never wanted and taking care of those teenagers like they’re her own, no matter how much shit they throw at her. Gentry’s a fucking superhero.

So, I push her buttons and I flirt when I shouldn’t, because I love the way she melts for all of three seconds before her eyes flash with fury. And because I just can’t help myself.

She’s just so darn flirt-worthy.

But I’m still pissed at her. I’m so tired of her acting like I’m the devil every time we run into each other.

And it seems like there’s nothing I can do to earn her forgiveness or her smile.

I lick my lower lip as I park on her street and can practically taste her lip gloss. I was that close to kissing her in Lazy’s bookstore.

And I saw it in her eyes. She wants me just as much as I want her.

I get out of my truck and glance around to make sure no neighbors are out and about, then I walk, as casually as possible, down the two blocks to Gentry’s house. I hurry across the yard I raked in the middle of the night and stride, like I belong here, around to the side of the house.

The temperature’s supposed to drop below freezing in the next couple of days, and I don’t want Gentry to have to buy a new garden hose. Problem is, everything I’ve done for her so far has been strictly outside, but winterizing her hose requires putting it inside.

Breaking into Gentry’s house is a step too far.

Helping her wasn’t my idea. Not at first. Brodie asked me to fix a broken porch rail last December, and I haven’t been able to stop driving by Gentry’s house every day and helping when I see a need.

Gentry works so hard, and she’s really got no one on her side looking out for her. So, I do what I can.

I roll up the hose quickly, disconnect it from the outside spigot, and put it next to the garage door. I’m just setting it down when the sound of a car approaching seems way too close.

Acting casual so no one calls the police, I look up to see Gentry’s beat-up silver sedan barreling toward the driveway.

My heart flips into high gear as panic washes over me. There’s no way she hasn’t already seen me, but, just in case, I dive into the bushes on the side of the house.

The hard leaves of her boxwood bush scrape my face as I slide between it and the siding of the house and drop to my knees. There’s not enough space to get down on all fours. If she walks around the corner of her house and looks down at the bush, she’s gonna spot me.

I freeze, my heart pounding, just waiting for her to call me out.

Her car rolls up the driveway and comes to a hard stop.

This was so stupid. I should climb out of the bush and make up an excuse for being here. But even in the silence of my bush, I can’t come up with a story she would believe.

If she ever finds out I’m the one helping her, she’s definitely going to tell me to stop. And I’d have to do what she asks.

I don’t want to stop.

A car door slams. “Can’t believe I forgot the candy,” Gentry mutters.

My heart slows a bit. She hasn’t seen me.

“I need one of you to help me,” she says in a commanding tone.

Silence reigns.

“If either of you want to go to Brodie’s wedding, you will get out of this car and help me. I will leave you behind. Don’t test me.” Gentry sounds tired and frustrated.

“I’ll help,” Emily says as she gets out of the car, eyes on the open book in her hands. “I just need to finish my page.”

Gentry sighs. “Thank you, sweetie, but we’re running late. There’s no time to finish your page.”

“Where’s the candy?” Emily asks.

“It’s in the garage. We’ll go in the side door.”

My heart immediately picks back up to a roaring panic as I try to stuff myself farther down into the bush.

I’m grateful I kept my jacket on, or these branches and leaves would have ripped up my arms. I don’t even want to think about how many holes I’m going to find in my favorite jacket when I get out of here.

Through the leaves, I see Gentry, looking adorable in her scarecrow costume, and Emily walk around the bushes. Emily stops to look at something on the bush, and I scrunch my eyes shut like she somehow can’t see me if I can’t see her.

I’m absolutely sure I’ve been caught.

“Emily,” Gentry calls. “Hurry up.”

“There’s a really pretty moth, Gentry. Come see it.”

“Not right now, Em. We’re already late. Come on.”

“If we’re already late, it doesn’t matter. The moth isn’t moving. It’s too cold out here for it. We should move it inside.”

Gentry sighs. “It’s probably getting ready to hibernate, Em. Just leave it.”

“Oh, my God,” Emily yells. “You’re so selfish. All you ever say is, ‘Hurry up, let’s go, do your homework, clean your room.’ All you care about is looking good to everyone else and never being late. You don’t even care about whether this moth dies or not.”

“Honestly? No, Em. I don’t care about a moth’s life right now. We need to get this candy into the car.”

“We need to save this moth.”

Gentry lets out a low growl and stomps to the side door of the garage. She freezes. “Em, did you move the hose?”

“No. I didn’t move your stupid hose, Gentry. Why do you always blame me for everything?”

“I’m not blaming you. I’m just asking a question.”

“You’re never just asking a question. You’re so passive aggressive.”

Gentry shakes her head and lets out another sigh that sounds frustrated to the point of tears. “I don’t have time for this,” she mutters.

She lets herself into the garage and is just stepping back outside when Emily plows into her with her hands cupped around the moth she found.

Gentry falls back against the garage, dropping the candy, and the moth flies out of Emily’s hands and up into the blue sky.

Emily watches it go. “I guess it’s going to live.”

“Good,” Gentry says. “Can you help me with the candy now?”

“Ugh,” Emily says. “Can you just take a second out of your precious life to care about anyone other than yourself?”

“I am caring about someone other than myself. I’m caring about the kids who are going to be at the trunk-or-treat looking for candy when we’re not there.”

“That’s great. Too bad you don’t care enough about the kids you’re supposed to be taking care of to even bother asking them what’s going on in their lives.”

Gentry’s shoulders slump. I can’t make out her expression through the bush, but her body language is giving off complete defeat.

What is wrong with Emily? Can’t she see Gentry is doing her best?

“It has been really busy lately, Em,” Gentry says.

“I get that. But if there’s something you want to talk about, I’m here for you. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not okay. Nothing’s okay. But you don’t even care. You just make your stupid rules and demand we do everything you say or you’re going to send us to foster care.”

“I’ve never said that, Em. I’ll never send you to foster care.”

“Right,” Emily says with a sniffle. “We all know your life would be so much better without us.”

“That’s not—”

“Whatever.” Emily stomps back to the car, gets in, and slams the door hard.

Gentry presses her hands over her face and lets out a small scream of frustration. I wish I could see her face when she drops her hands, but it’s enough to hear her say, “I just keep fucking this up. I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this.”

Seeing Gentry like this, seeing how tough things are for her, I forget entirely how to be mad at her.

All I want to do is make her life easier.

“Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck,” Gentry says. Then she takes a deep breath and starts picking up the candy.

I wish I could help her. I wish I could hug her. But showing myself right now isn’t what she needs.

So, I stay in my bush and barely breathe as I watch her make three trips between the house and the car with the candy.

There’s a brief conversation with Sophie, who insists she’s in the middle of an important text stream about an upcoming test in school and can’t help her older sister.

Finally, Gentry shoves the hose in the garage, locks the door, and leaves.

I stay in my bush for a little while partly because I need a moment to think, but mostly because I’m afraid of moving and getting more scratches from lethal leaves.

When I do finally claw myself free, I immediately place an order for dinner to be delivered to Gentry’s house. I have no idea what she likes, so I keep it teen friendly and go with pizza and breadsticks.

Then, I place an order for flowers to be sent to my parents with an apology for being such a terror as a teenager.

***

All my brothers’ trucks are parked at my house, which means any hope I had of alone time is dead.