When I Need You (Need You #4)(48)

       
         
       
        

After four hard miles on the treadmill, I showered. I threw on some clean clothes and heated up one of my prepared breakfasts that didn't suck-steel-cut oats with almonds, blueberries and honey. I filled out the form online for the following week's meals as I ate and hit send when I finished.

My family gave me crap for employing a personal chef. Before Brady had met Lennox, he ate whatever meals his secretary brought him-usually at his desk. Walker was marginally better cooking for himself. But his company provided lunch for their employees, so I failed to see how having healthy meals delivered to my door was any different.

Besides, because I was a professional athlete my caloric intake needs fluctuated. Hiring an expert to keep my protein-to-carb ratio balanced for optimum performance was no different than hiring any other professional. I could probably roof a house myself, but why would I want to when I could hire a roofer?

I didn't understand why my mom took it so personally that Chef J prepared my meals when she'd had a full-time cook and several other domestic workers when I was growing up.

She's concerned because she wants a woman in your life to share meal prep responsibilities, not a random guy in a restaurant across town.

But even if I was in a serious relationship? I wouldn't expect my partner to adhere to the same diet I did during the season or learn how to prepare it.

"Dude. If you're that hungry I could fix you something to eat."

Rowan. I still couldn't believe she'd said that to me when I'd wanted to kiss her.

I hadn't seen her much this week. Once in the elevator as I returned home and she was leaving to run Calder someplace. Once in the hallway between our apartments. Calder had started a long story about . . . I honestly couldn't remember. I'd spent the entire time watching Rowan. Wondering if I'd taken spinning my wheels to a whole new level. Wondering why I'd ditch my three nonnegotiable rules in a hot minute if she gave me a sign she wanted more than this bogus attempt at being friends.

But the stubborn woman hadn't made the effort. I'd wait her out. I could be damn stubborn too.

At the site of Camp Step-Up, a former elementary school, I parked my Land Cruiser next to an older-model Saturn.

Astrid climbed out of it as I walked past. She fell into step with me, holding the biggest insulated coffee mug I'd ever seen. "Morning," she said brightly. "I'm glad you're here early."

"Better early than late."

"I've already been here for forty-five minutes," she confessed.

"Why didn't you go in?"

"We haven't discussed specifics on arrival times and if I'm allowed to open the building early. Or if I fall behind on my work"-she made a sarcastic little snort, as if that'd ever happen-"and I have to stay late, if you're all right with me locking down the building." 

"Since you have the code I'd think it'd be a given that you can come and go as you please."

She stopped, forcing me to stop. "This is what I'm talking about. I don't assume anything. We have to make these types of decisions as a team. I'd think it was a given that you'd know all about teamwork."

"You're right. We need to be on the same page of the playbook."

Astrid rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You couldn't have said ‘the ball is in your court' or anything that doesn't use the clichéd word playbook?"

"Hey, it's no joke that a playbook is the bible in my world. And get used to the sports analogies, because that's how I roll. Since we're both early we'll have time to go over whatever list you've got-I'm assuming there's more than one." I pointed to her enormous coffee cup. "You have enough to share?"

"Nope."

"Stingy with the caffeine. I'll remember that. Let's see if you know how to work the new security system."

Astrid struggled to juggle her coffee as she punched in the code, but she got it right on the first try.

We wandered into the area that'd served as the office and dumped our stuff. LCCO had done few updates, but the entire facility would be cleaned next week.

This was one of the smallest elementary schools I'd ever been in. No wonder the school district had sold this property. The building had sat empty for the past fifteen years prior to LCCO purchasing the property three years ago. They'd used it for storage and as a place to organize items for various charity events. After talking with Aunt Priscilla, I'd learned that LCCO remained unsure on future plans for the space. Renovating was economically unfeasible-according to Brady, the Lund Industries CFO, as well as Walker, the Lund family construction expert.