His features scrunch up in confusion. “Who’re you with?”

  I rattle off the cleaning company and the address they gave me.

  He nods. “Right. One of the basketball wives cleared it with security. I can’t remember which one it was. Stay here and I’ll go ask my supervisor.”

  He walks away, in no big hurry at all. I sit back in my seat and look out my window, unabashedly scanning the horizon for Ben. There are plenty of folks walking around, but not him.

  Ten minutes later, the security guard still hasn’t returned, and I’m growing impatient. I’m officially late for my job, which I absolutely hate because chances are, the prissy wife is going to lodge a complaint with my company about it.

  I decide to get out and see if I can’t hunt down the security supervisor myself when I see a woman walking from the center of the village down the dirt road toward the cabins. She’s going to pass by my car anyway, so I roll my window down and wave her over.

  “Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I’m here for a job and I was wondering if you could help me out. I’m a cleaner and I’m supposed to be working for a woman—”

  Her eyebrows shoot up. “Are you Raelynn?”

  My relief is palpable. “Yes.”

  She unfurls an infectious smile. “Good timing! I’m Leanna, or Lele, whichever works. I’m the one who hired you.”

  I look past her, toward the main house, and try not to let on how overwhelmed I am. That place is huge and there’s no way I’ll be able to clean it all by myself in just a few hours.

  She must follow my line of thinking because she points back down the dirt road. “I’m actually staying back in the cabins. There’s room for you to park out front. Mind if I just hop in and we can go back together? My feet are killing me.”

  “Sure. Yeah. Of course.” I barely have time to swipe my diner uniform from the seat and pick up my lunch before she opens the passenger door and hops in.

  “Here,” she says, taking the to-go container from me and setting it back on her lap. “Don’t worry about all that. I’ll only be in here for a second. My cabin is just up there on the right a bit.” She turns her attention to my lunch. “God this smells good. What’s in here?”

  “Oh. Just a burger and fries.”

  “Really?”

  Her eyes go wide with interest, and I know it’s weird to just meet someone and offer them your meal straight away, but my nan ingrained Southern hospitality into me deeply.

  “If you’re hungry, you can—”

  “Would it be weird if I—”

  We both laugh as she opens the lid and steals a few French fries. “God, sorry. I don’t mean to steal your food. I’m in my first trimester and having the weirdest cravings and aversions. Of course it doesn’t help that I’m stuck out here eating the food the nutritionists have set up for the guys. Every meal consists of healthy fats and complex carbs and all that crap, but I just want some French fries! God these are good.”

  I laugh. “There’s a packet of ketchup in there you can open if you want.”

  “No, no. I can’t. Look at me stealing your meal and I don’t even know you! You should eat your lunch,” she says, closing the container and crossing her hands on top of it as if to keep herself from eating any more.

  “I’m done with it,” I insist. “Eat what you want. Is this the cabin?”

  “Yeah, just park up there.”

  I do as she says then kill the engine. Her eyes are down on my lunch again, and I shake my head. “I mean it. Take the rest. I didn’t touch the other half of the burger and it was cut down the middle by Cook back at the diner, so it’s not like I had my hands all over—”

  That to-go container is whipped open in a flash and she’s got a huge bite of burger stuffed in her mouth before I can even finish my sentence.

  “You’re an angel,” she says with her hand covering her full mouth. “A literal angel. God, this is good.”

  I leave her in there to eat while I pop the trunk and start unloading my cleaning supplies. A moment later she joins me, shaking her head, still chewing.

  “Here, let me help you.”

  I shoo her away. “No, I got this. I’m used to it.”

  I drag out my vacuum and mop, along with a caddy of cleaning products, scrub brushes, and sponges.

  Leanna eats one last French fry then closes the to-go container. She wears a sheepish smile as she follows me inside.

  The place is set up like a studio apartment with a small kitchen, living room, and bedroom. The only separation is between the main living space and the bathroom in the back corner. The walls are covered in a smooth blonde wood, there’s a wood-burning stove that looks mostly for show, and the kitchen is modern. The furniture is all neutral whites and brown leather, and the black plumbing fixtures pair well with the artwork. The whole place is Instagram-worthy, that’s for sure.

  The thing is though, it looks nearly spotless.

  Leanna’s wringing out her hands. “So yes, as you can see, the place doesn’t need much.”

  I nod and set my vacuum by the front door.

  “Just some light cleanup, maybe…oh! And you could help me put away the laundry they send away for us.”

  I glance over at her from beneath my lashes, seeing the worry lines between her brows.

  I think she feels embarrassed by how little there is for me to do, but there is, in fact, nothing really. Still, I don’t want to make her feel bad.

  “Yeah, these floors could use a good vacuuming too,” I add. “There’s dust everywhere.”

  Her brows shoot up. “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. Look at that,” I say, dragging my foot across the floor and gathering up absolutely no dust, but we both pretend we see something.

  So begins an hour-long cleaning session where I wipe already clean surfaces and rearrange already neatly arranged items. Leanna follows me around, helping and talking. We put away her laundry and I give the bathroom a once-over. I’m supposed to be here all afternoon, and dread fills my stomach when I realize this job won’t pay nearly as much as I thought it would. I’m paid by the hour, so a job this small is hardly worth doing, especially considering the gas I burned to get all the way out here.

  “I think that should do it,” I say, starting to loop up the vacuum cord.

  “Wait. Really?” She looks panic-stricken. “But what about—”

  She points vaguely at the windows I’ve already wiped with Windex, then at the kitchen where I’ve already loaded the dishes and cleaned the sink and buffed the fixtures. There’s nothing keeping me here except Leanna’s puppy dog eyes.

  “Do you have another job to get to?” she asks as I start gathering my supplies near the door.

  “No. This was my only house on the books this afternoon. Usually they take a little longer.”

  “Oh right. Yeah. That’s okay though because maybe I could keep you on the clock and we could just…hang out?”

  Her eyebrows are up near her hairline and her smile is brimming over with hope.

  On paper, this woman has everything. I mean, she’s obnoxiously gorgeous: black skin a few shades lighter than her eyes, full lips, slice-through-your-heart cheekbones, and a high slicked-back ponytail. She’s dating or married to a professional athlete, living in a cute cabin in the woods for the foreseeable future. I bet she could be friends with anyone, and she wants to be friends with me? Why?

  “I know how this looks,” she says, holding up her hands. “Crazy lady invites you to a cabin in the woods, steals your food, then pays you to hang out.” She cringes. “Yes, I’ll admit that all seems pretty weird. It’s just that I’m stuck out here in the middle of nowhere while my husband trains like a bazillion hours a day and I’m bored out of my mind. You’d think the other wives would be friendly, but”—she leans in close—“they’re actually super bitchy and cliquey. I’ve only been with Trey for two years, so they expect him to drop me at any moment and move on to some new hot thing. But Trey’s not like that. Not at all. We’re in love.” She rubs her belly. “I mean, clearly.”

  I frown. “There are other basketball wives out here too?”

  She nods. “Some. A few of them opted to stay back in Los Angeles, especially the ones who have kids.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “And just so you know, I’ve tried being nice to them. One of them—she’s like the queen bee—her name is Amanda. She is just so up her own ass, you know what I mean? Like she thinks she’s really God’s gift to the earth. She’s the one who badmouths me to the others. I’ll tell you more about her, but I’m already hungry again. You want something to snack on? I have candy hidden from Trey. I swear he’d eat it all if I let him.”

  My afternoon has taken the most random turn. I should make my apologies and leave. This isn’t appropriate, and I don’t want it getting back to the cleaning company. I’ve never had a job where the person asked me to stay and hang out with them while offering to pay me for it. It makes me feel…a little too much like an escort, if I’m honest. A friend escort. But truthfully, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend, and Christine and Cook don’t count. Not really.

  I watch Leanna as she opens the just-for-show wood-burning stove and retrieves an armful of candy bags. She grins wickedly and plops them down on the couch between us.

  “Okay, pick your poison.”

  Chapter Seven

  Raelynn

  Leanna and I lose track of time talking and painting our toenails and going through lists of potential baby names online. I don’t even realize how late it is until there are muffled voices outside.

  “Oh!” Leanna says, jumping to her feet and gathering the half-empty candy bags. “That’ll be Trey! Hurry! Help me!”

  She’s acting like she’s trying to hide a murder weapon, not a half-filled bag of Starburst.

  “Will he really care if you eat candy?”

  “No! Of course not. But I’ve learned my lesson—if he sees it, he’ll demolish the rest of my stash in like five seconds. I swear the man can unhinge his jaw like a snake if there’s sugar involved.”

  We’re hurriedly scooping up the rest of the candy and stuffing it back into the stove just as the voices reach our cabin. Leanna closes the heavy iron door and sags against it, tossing me a conspiratorial wink before she reaches for my hand.

  “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the guys.”

  She tugs me toward the door and we’re outside before I can even think to protest or explain to her that I might already know them. In fact, I’m pretty sure I do. Trey was the guy at the diner the other day, right? The nice one who stood up for me.

  The sun hangs low in the sky, hidden behind the thick wall of trees. Scattered golden light highlights the three guys chatting at the bottom of the stairs that lead to Leanna’s cabin, and just as suspected, I recognize all of them.

  Leanna keeps tugging me forward then thrusts me in front of her so I’m standing at the very top of the stairs, looking down on them.

  “Raelynn, this is Trey, Anthony, and Ben.”

  I was right about Trey. He’s the tall Asian guy with short black hair and a wide friendly smile. Then there’s Anthony, and Anthony is…Anthony, already grinning huge at this turn of events. Beside him stands Ben, and I don’t know what he’s doing because I can’t look in his direction. I did for a split second right as I stumbled out of the cabin with Leanna, and it was enough to make me feel like the earth was falling out from underneath me.

  They’ve just come back from practice, clearly. They’re in workout clothes stained with sweat. Their hair is matted down with it too and…I can’t help myself…I steal another glance at Ben and find he’s looking at me, brows scrunched together with curiosity. He’s not smiling exactly, and yet I don’t think he’s annoyed to find me here…

  His brown hair looks almost black, wet with sweat. His USA Basketball team shirt is sleeveless, which means his tan arms are on full display. They’re not overly bulky, but they’re so damned cut and muscled I could chip a tooth on them.

  “Guys, this is—”

  “Our hero!” Anthony interjects, cutting Leanna off.

  She frowns back at me in confusion. “Hero?”

  I shake my head. “Ignore him.”

  “She saved our life,” Anthony insists with a teasing smile.

  I roll my eyes. “I gave them directions. That’s all.”

  “She was our waitress the other morning too,” Trey says, filling in his wife as he walks up the stairs to press a kiss to her hair before offering me another welcoming smile. “Hi, Raelynn.”

  I give him a little wave.

  “Well good. I’m glad everyone knows each other,” Leanna says. “You guys want to shower really quick and then we’ll walk over to get dinner at the main house? I bet they’ll have everything set out soon. Raelynn, are you hungry?”

  For once, not really. We’ve been snacking all afternoon.

  Besides, I have things I need to get back to. Like my real life.

  “Thanks, but I’m gonna get going.”

  I’m a few stairs down before I remember to grab my cleaning stuff. I turn back for the cabin door. My cheeks tinge pink as I start to collect everything. I hate that I’m embarrassed by the fact that they’re all watching me, undoubtedly remembering that I’m just the help, no one important enough to bother with. Leanna might have spent her afternoon with me, but it was only because she was dead bored and I was marginally more interesting than staring at a blank cabin wall. I have no doubt that on any normal day, she’d be skipping around Beverly Hills, buying whatever her heart fancies, and then having dinner with, I dunno, Miley Cyrus.

  I want to evaporate into thin air. I wish I’d already loaded my stuff earlier when I finished cleaning. Usually, I’d make two trips to get everything back down to my nan’s car, but I can’t stand the thought of dragging this out, so I lug the plastic handle of my caddy up onto my forearm and try to carry the vacuum in my other hand. It mostly works until I stumble on the vacuum’s dangly cord as I step out of the cabin door.

  Ben’s up the stairs and taking the vacuum out of my hands before I can even register that he’s moved.

  “Here, give me all that.”

  His tone leaves no room for arguing, but I don’t let that dissuade me.

  “I can take it,” I say in protest, not letting him lighten my load.

  “You almost just fell down the stairs and broke your neck,” he points out.

  I stare up into his brown eyes—eyes made of cold hard steel.

  “I barely tripped.”

  “Let go of the vacuum,” he says, holding my gaze.

  “Stop being so bossy.”

  He licks his bottom lip to stifle a smile and turns away, looking at his friends for backup.

  “Is this getting weird for anyone else?” Leanna asks jokingly.

  “What’s up with you two?” Trey asks.

  Anthony just stands there smiling.

  “I’m trying to help her out,” Ben says.

  “Maybe she just doesn’t like you,” Anthony says, starting to walk up the stairs. “I’ll help you with your stuff, Raelynn.”

  Ben flays Anthony alive with just one look.

  Anthony stops dead in his tracks, laughs, and holds up his hands in innocence. “Or…not. Damn, cool it with the evil glares. You want to carry the damn vacuum, be my guest.”

  “No one is carrying the vacuum except for me,” I point out haughtily.

  At this point, I might as well be stomping my feet with how childish I’m being. I don’t know why I’m protesting so much except that it seems absolutely imperative to keep Ben from getting his way. I’d bet he always gets exactly what he wants. From morning till night the world bends for this man, and I refuse to join in.

  Ben has his own plans though.

  Finally having had enough of me, he turns back, steps toward me, and scoops me up with one arm, taking my vacuum in his other hand, then carries me down the stairs like I’m nothing more than pillow fluff.

  “What a—”

  “Nice guy,” he finishes for me as he continues carrying me to the car. I might as well be on an amusement park ride. My feet dangle a mile in the air as his strong arm holds me tightly against him.

  “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  He’s still sweaty from practice and I (don’t) hate it. I’m half tempted to turn my head, press my nose to his throat, and inhale.

  Just that thought makes a new wave of annoyance wash over me. How dare he hijack my good sense?

  “Are you done yet?” I press. “Being a brute? You can put me down now. Your friends have seen how strong and mighty you are.”

  “Just for that, I think I’ll keep hold of you.”

  “I’ll start kicking and screaming soon.”

  He laughs then and finally sets me down on my feet right beside the driver’s side door, blocking me from the others. He sets my things down next to me then stands to his full height to assess me.

  I look right back at him, not saying a word. If he wants a staring contest, I’ll give him one.

  He tips his head to the side, his lips slowly unfurling into a smile.

  “Thank you, Ben, for helping me with my stuff,” he says teasingly before switching back to his normal tone. “Oh, no problem, little Birdie. Any time.”

  “You think I’m going to thank you for that display of male chauvinism?” I reach out and poke him in the chest. “God. You just think so much of yourself, don’t you? You know what’s funny? At the diner that second time I saw you, I was under the impression that you might be sorta shy and sweet.”

  His expression sobers, his brown eyes narrowing down on the finger that touches his chest. “I can be shy.”

  But not sweet.

  That’s what he’s hinting at. I drop my hand as a weird trickle of awareness suddenly makes the air around us feel charged. I look away from him first, breaking the spell and losing the unofficial war we’ve been waging.

  He steps toward me again, invading my space ever so slightly. “You want sweet?”

  I practically gulp.

  What does it matter what I want? What are we doing here? Flirting? Teasing? Doesn’t he care that his friends are all staring at us?