Dating the Defensive Back (The Nash Brothers Book 1)
Chapter 15

Do You Know Beckett Maxwell’s Sister?

I let myself sleep until almost noon after the late night of driving, but I’m still in town and ready to go earlier than I thought I would be.

I have a full eight hours to burn until my date, so I take a shower and decide to check in on Beckett’s sister. I click on the address he sent me after reading the text that told me the place where his sister works is called Cravings.

Cravings?

It’s Vegas, I guess, and she’s in her twenties now, but it sounds like the kind of place that sells lingerie and sex toys. If it is, I can’t imagine how awkward it’s going to be to walk in and ask for Ava Maxwell.

Either way, it’s going to be awkward. But it might be nice for her to feel a little sense of home. I’m doing this as a favor to her brother, and it’ll be like she has another big brother nice and close if she needs anything.

I can’t imagine Beckett would throw me to the wolves that way. I’m sure it’s not a sex toy shop.

But if it is, maybe I can grab something for my date tonight.

The place isn’t far from where I’m staying—just down the same street on the other side of the Strip, a ten-or-so minute drive. I head down to the valet, get my Chevy, and slide into the driver’s seat.

It’s weird driving in Vegas. It takes a vacation place down a few pegs back into reality.

I’ve only ever been here to play or to party, and I’ve always had the pleasure of someone else giving me a ride. But today, I’m mid-transition into a resident of this place, and the hope I feel lighting my chest is unexpected.

I cruise down Flamingo Road, the sounds of the country station on the radio blaring in my ears. I listen to all sorts of music, and I guess this is where I landed last night when I pulled up to the hotel.

I make my way toward Cravings, and I spot the sign from the car when I pass by it. There’s a small line out front, and I realize it’s a bakery and I’m here on the back end of lunch time.

This was stupid.

I should’ve looked the place up before I drove over here, but I’m invested now. I need to get this over with so my favor to Beck is off the to-do list.

There aren’t any parking spots on the street, so I opt to pull into a parking lot behind the place, and I pull up alongside a curb that won’t block anybody since the parking lot is full, too.

I pull on a baseball hat I keep in my backseat, and I keep my head down as I move over toward the back of the line. The lady in front of me has three kids, and they are not what you’d call patient.

The line doesn’t move quickly, and it seems to slow to a crawl as one kid keeps bumping into me. I try taking a step back, but the lady behind me is far too close.

I blow out a breath and do my best to keep my cool.

I sneak a peek at a menu when I get close enough to grab a paper one out of a little holder near the door. It’s a relatively small menu for lunch as the focus of this place appears to be on its baked goods, and before I get to the front of the line, I decide on ham and cheese on a fresh baguette with a bag of chips and one of their famous kitchen sink cookies.

Once I step inside, I see there’s still a decent line in front of me, but we’re moving along as fast as the two cashiers can handle each transaction. It’s loud in here, voices echoing in a loud din as patrons enjoy their fresh baked goods and lunches, some people staying to eat while others take their goods to go.

I figure I’ll ask the cashier about Ava once I get up front. Or maybe the cashier is Ava. She’s younger, and she’s got blonde hair…but to be honest, I have no idea what Ava Maxwell might look like these days. It’s been a good ten years since the last time I saw her, and I didn’t pay her much attention back then.

There are still three people ahead of me in line when I see movement in the display case I’m standing next to. I glance up and see someone is restocking some cookies, and when my eyes move up further…

I draw in a sharp breath as I recognize the woman.

“Cookie?” I say, and when she glances up, her eyes meet mine.

“Grayson,” she says, surprise clear in her tone as her eyes widen. “What are you doing here?”

“You work here?”

She nods. “These are my cookies,” she says proudly, and she grabs one and hands it over the glass display to me. Our fingers brush when our hands touch, and I’m still in shock that she’s actually here. I found her when I wasn’t even looking.

“Then you must know Ava Maxwell. Her older brother is a friend of mine, and he asked me to check in on her since he’s back in New York. Is she here?” I ask.

“Ava!” a voice yells from the back, and her eyes widen as she turns toward the voice and then back at me.

She snags her bottom lip between her teeth, her fingers gripping the tray she was holding even more tightly.

She clears her throat, her cheeks turn pink, and that’s when I put it together.

“Oh fuck,” I murmur as the realization hits me.

The lady in front of me corralling her three kids turns around and glares at me.

“You’re little Ava Maxwell?” I ask, my voice hoarse with disbelief.

My Cookie is…Ava?

Reality hits me clean in the face.

The woman I had an instant connection with and immediately wanted more than just one night is my best friend’s little sister.

Of course we had an instant connection. We know each other. Well, sort of. I knew who she was when she was fifteen, and she knew who I was even though she didn’t really know me at all.

Her jaw opens and shuts a few times as she grapples with an explanation.

There isn’t one other than the fact that she lied to me.

“Ava!” the same voice yells over the loud din of the bakery. Someone who looks vaguely familiar, as if she was at the bar with Ava last weekend, rushes up to her. “Your dough is ready, and Dom just took out another batch.”

She’s clearly busy at this bakery, and I’m sort of at a loss as to what to do.

I set the cookie she handed me on the top of the glass display case, give her one last long look of utter disappointment, and I walk out of the bakery, my chest feeling tight as all the hope I walked in this place with is completely shattered.