Page 87 of The Score We Never Settled

“Plan on being that way for the rest of your life, Short Stop.”

He turns to get back to the customers but abruptly stops in his tracks, causing me to look over to see what gave him pause.

It’s Cruz.

Beaming like a freaking fool, like he just did something extremely stupid we’re about to find out about.

“Well, well,” he says excitedly. “If it isn’t the happymarriedcouple.”

“Did you forget where the bar was?” I assert, fully aware I shouldn’t be in front of customers, but there are only four left and, well, congratulations, they might get a show, too, with the coffee and pastries of choice.

“Nah,” Cruz replies flatly. “I just wanted to say goodbye to my girl. I’m leavin’ tonight to head back up to Charleston. Need to be with my team and all that, my suspension is up.” He quirks a brow at Briggs. “Shouldn’t you be back?”

My stomach drops at the reminder I’m on a limited time frame here with him.

That he’ll head back up to Memphis, and everything will go back to what it was again.

Just plain and…boring.

“Where is she?” I mutter, almost not loud enough to be audible to even my own ears. “I’d love to meet her.”

Cruz chuckles like this shit is still funny, but I don’t understand why he still gets a kick out of it. Why he still feels the need to drive Briggs absolutely crazy all the time.

“You know that the whole town will still believe how much we meant to each other. And how much of a part I had to play in this happy reunion.”

“Can’t wait for ours,” Briggs chimes in, his voice grating and on the verge of probably leaping across the bakery display. “Oh, wait, Charleston doesn’t stand a chance in hell for the playoffs. Maybe not.”

Cruz bristles a little, but he doesn’t lose his shit-eating smile. “Season’s not over yet. Maybe next time we meet up this year, we’ll just sweep the Series.”

“Maybe you’ll have another accident if you keep talking to my wife like you’ve got a stake in this game when, clearly, you ain’t worth shit.”

A small gasp fills the air from one of the ladies still in the bakery, and I could stop this. I could tell both of them to leave and not cause a scene, but I’m on bated breath with their dynamic and how much it really hasn’t changed.

Briggs has been terrorized by him mentally, which turned emotional, because the only way to get through to him was through me.

And Cruz had me, in some capacity, for two years. Which only fueled the rivalry even further.

“Then maybe I’ll come home, and Layla Jean can nurse me back to health.”

I fully expect Briggs to bound over the countertop and rip Cruz’s throat out, but instead, he turns and looks back at me.

I wouldn’t describe him as calm, by any means. I know he’s reached a limit, and he knows what those are. Therefore, he needs to leave, or he’s going to redecorate my bakery in ways that aren’t going to pull in business.

“I’ll see you later, Short Stop,” he recites softly, a complete contrast to what his eyes are saying, and that’s murder. “Get rid of him, or I’ll be in here in the next five minutes to drag him out. I’ll be across the street.”

Then he starts for the kitchen without another kiss or anything.

And that’s the first thing I notice like an idiot.

“Man could never take a joke,” Cruz still provokes even when he’s not here. “I don’t get it?—”

“You need to stop,” I grind out, finally sliding off the countertop and approaching the bakery display. “I don’t know why you get a kick out of this, Cruz, but it’s immature as hell and embarrassin’.”

He lifts a brow. “For who? You? You married him.”

“And I’d do it again because you definitely weren’t an option.” Murmurs and mutters make up background noise because here we go with part two of the drama currently unfolding. “Was it a hit at your pride? Or are you naturally an asshole?”

The scowl on his face confirms I hit a nerve because he appears like he now wants to kill me. “I’m a professional baseball player who can get more ass than?—”