Should’ve Known It’s You (Not You Again #7)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

AUSTIN

I took Kenny to my go-to spot when I was having a shitty day or week.

Axe throwing.

It was in a casual bar with decent food, a buy-one-get-one-free happy hour until eight, and good old-fashioned rock music playing through the stereo. They mostly played stuff from the eighties and nineties, and around this time of year with Thanksgiving approaching, there were murals of turkeys on the axe targets.

There were also Thanksgiving specials on the menu, but Kenny and I opted for a basket of wings, grabbing those and the beers from the bar before finding a table outside of one of the lanes. She grabbed a wing and tore into it with her teeth. Then she picked up an axe and weighed it in her hand as she watched what other people were doing.

“I’ve heard this is a thing, but I’ve never done it before. Have you?”

“Often.” I took a sip of my beer and let her have the first turn in our lane. “Go for it. You’ll be surprised at how much better it makes you feel.”

She glanced at me, blue eyes clouded with doubt. Then she shrugged and set down the wing on a paper napkin. “I feel like a rage room would’ve been more appropriate for today, but okay. Let’s give this a try.”

After taking off her jacket, she rolled up her shirtsleeves and picked up the axe again. Striding toward the cage, she opened the door and tilted her head to one side before suddenly swinging the axe and letting go. I watched it hurtle toward the target, and my eyebrows shot up when it landed right about where the printed turkey’s heart should’ve been.

“Bullseye!” she cried happily, tossing her fists into the air. She twisted to grin at me. “Hey, you might’ve been right. This is pretty fun.”

To my utmost surprise, it turned out that Kenny was scary good at leisurely hurling deadly objects at wooden targets. Every time she struck it, she whooped and jumped, or just cheered with her hands in the air above her head.

I laughed as I watched, though I supposed I shouldn’t have been too surprised. Kennedy had been a wild child in her youth. Who knew how many things she’d thrown at how many people—or targets?

Eventually, I got up to join her. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“I think I would’ve remembered,” she teased. “It is a pretty memorable thing to do. Do you really come here often?”

“It’s what I do to blow off steam now that I don’t have any fields around,” I replied as I accepted an axe from her. “It’s pretty effective, right?”

“Damn straight.” She laughed as she left the lane to allow me to toss the axe. It ended up going wide. “Are you sure you come here often?”

“Touché.” I laughed. “In your case, it’s got to be beginners’ luck.”

She smirked. “Underestimate me at your own peril, Merrick. I’m ready for a rematch any time and I can guarantee that my luck won’t run out, because it’s not luck.”

“What is it, then?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I’ve been known to toss things around in my day. Eggs. Darts. Toilet paper. Tate Donovan’s plans for the day.”

Surprised laughter tore out of me. I nodded as I left the lane, still chuckling as I walked back to our table. “The grub is getting cold. Care to take a break?”

Her cheeks were flushed with exhilaration and she sent me a bright smile. We sat down, each taking a sip of our beer. “This was a great idea. I was skeptical, but I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“Feeling better?”

“A bit.” She sighed, shrugging before she rocked her head from side to side. Her dark hair shone under the soft orange light from above, and she dragged her fingers through it, making it into a tight bun that she released to cascade in waves down her back before she focused on me again. “I think I’ll only really feel better once I have an investor for my business, but this definitely helped take the edge off of today, so thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome.” I took another sip of my beer, taking her in as she drank while watching the people around us throw their axes.

With her cheeks still flushed and all that anger from before out of her eyes, she looked more like the girl from the wedding than the wild child from our childhood or the crazy lady from the office, and yet, all those variations of her were beautiful.

She was stunning, and my pants were suddenly a bit tighter when I thought about how we’d ended my sister’s wedding night. I’d come so hard, I’d nearly blacked out, and while I hadn’t brought her here for a replay, I was definitely still attracted to her.

Needing a distraction myself this time, I thought back to why I had brought her here and I leaned forward, folding an arm on the table as I looked into her clear blue eyes. “Tell me more about this vision you have for your restaurant and hotel. Something tells me there’s so much more to your idea than what you’ve shared with me so far.”

Surprise washed over her features as she stared back at me, her eyebrows slowly lifting. “Do you really want to know? I thought I wasn’t ready for an investor yet.”

“So talk to me as a friend,” I suggested. “I meant it when I said I wanted to help you, Kenny. If we talk about it more, in a more casual setting like this, maybe we can work out some of the details.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay, well, first off, you asked if it was a restaurant or a hotel, and the answer is that it’s both. What I see in my head is a small hotel with maybe twenty or thirty rooms, with a café in the lobby and the restaurant on the roof.”

“This is sounding better already,” I said, and I was finally starting to see it in my own head the way she was imagining it, but my encouragement seemed to make the wheels come off again.

“I want it to be a gathering place, and maybe somewhere for special events like weddings. A garden would be nice. Maybe a small chapel, or an area outside for a marquee tent that we could put up when the weather isn’t good. A pool would be amazing, and a spa. I also see a small playground for the kids and perhaps a space for meditation, or yoga, or any other kind of workshop. And?—”

“Whoa. Slow down.” I exhaled sharply and put up a hand. Chuckling, I took a sip of my beer. “Clearly, you’re a dreamer, which is great. The world needs more people like you. I’m not knocking dreamers or your particular dream, but a lot of people who come to investment bankers are dreamers. They have a vision, but they don’t have the discipline or the methodical approach to make their dreams happen.”

She sighed, but before she could get dejected again, I carried on, needing her to understand that I was only saying all this so she could see where she was currently going wrong. “Dreamers tend to get too distracted by coming up with more ideas. I honestly think what you need is someone to keep you on a straight path. You need a plan that lays out the steps going forward. One that will allow you to see tangible growth, and you need to sit down with someone who can help you formulate that plan.”

“And once I have it?”

“Then you can start pitching investors again,” I concluded. “No one is going to give you a cent without seeing a clear vision on paper as well as how you plan to achieve it.”

“Okay,” she said, conceding a lot more easily than I’d expected. “So help me stay on a straight path, then.”

I laughed, but then I realized she was being serious. I blinked hard, my head shaking as I also realized that this was why she’d conceded so easily. “I’m an investment banker, Kenny. Not a life coach.”

“Pleeeeaasse?” She pressed her hands together and widened her eyes, making them all soulful like a puppy dog. “You just said I needed someone to help keep me on the straight and narrow, and who’s better for that job than someone who literally knows exactly what investors are looking for?”

“Look, Kenny, you’ve got the wrong guy,” I said playfully. “If you want to get naked in a field together again sometime? Call me up, but this is your venture to see through.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she needled, waggling her eyebrows at me. “Who knows? There might be a field or two along the way where we could get naked together.”

I laughed. “When you make it to the stage of being ready for an investment, come back to me, but until then, the best I can do is to be your friend.”

“Okay, then,” she said, picking up her beer again and draining what had been left of it. Then she stood up and collected her jacket and purse. “Thank you for the drinks, and the axe throwing, and the advice. I respect your choice, but you’ve changed a lot since you left Merrick Meadows.”

Leaving me high and dry, she flashed me a tight smile before she turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd before I caught sight of her again just before the exit door swung shut behind her. I frowned, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Was I too harsh? I don’t think I was too harsh.

Yet her parting comment rang in my ears. What did that mean? How have I changed? And what the fuck does Merrick Meadows have to do with it?