Page 139 of One Last Shot
Clean.
“You forgive me?”
“Yep. We all do things... well, that we regret. But I can’t live in that regret, and neither can you. Let it go, Blake. And in case anything Misty said was right... let me go.”
She could almost see him, those sad brown eyes that had torn at her heart, that devastating smile, the swallow he gave before making a decision.
“Thank you, Boo.” He took another breath. “You’re... well, I know what social media is saying about you and Oaken Fox, and I just want to say—ignore them. He’s a lucky guy.”
For a second, her body seized up.
But it didn’t matter what anonymous people on social media said about her. She smiled. “Yes. Yes, he is, Blake. Take care of yourself and be happy.”
She hung up. Set her phone down.
Blew out a breath.
Yeah, that felt good. Good enough, maybe, to call Oaken. To apologize. Because if Reynolds had orchestrated everything behind the scenes, even to the point of rigging the outcome—who knew what he had done with their show?
And then she heard it—“That’s not the deal.”
Oaken deserved for her to get to the bottom of that, at the very least. Maybe even for her to tell him that they could give this one last shot.
Tonight. After the chili, maybe.
She walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. Pulled out the meat.
Behind her, the door opened and she startled. Turned.
Echo Kingston walked into the Tooth, seven months pregnant. “Hey, Boo.”
“Echo. Dodge said you were coming by. You okay?”
“Yeah. Just an ultrasound. I have two long months to go. My mom wanted the ultrasound—she’s hovering a little.”
“That’s what happens when your mom is an ob-gyn. Can I get you something to eat?”
Echo slid onto a chair at the table. “I’d kill for a ham sandwich.”
Boo laughed. “I’m on it.” She opened the fridge and retrieved mayo, ham, and bread. “Moose always keeps the fixin’s on hand.”
“They’re still out training?”
“Yeah.” She set the ingredientson the counter.
“Someone forget their bag?” Echo had pushed the parachute bag to the end of the table.
“It belongs to Mike Grizz. His producer, Reynolds”—the jerk—“is picking it up.”
“Yeah, I met him the day they dropped Mike and Oaken from the chopper. We were down for an appointment, and I met him here at Air One. He asked Dodge to drop off Mike Grizz on our way back to Copper Mountain. He and his cameraperson took Oaken Fox up early to get shots of the area before they dropped off Oaken and their gear.”
She stilled. “Reynolds dropped off their gear.”
“Yeah.” She got up. “I go to the bathroom every fifteen minutes, I think. Be right back.” She waddled into the locker room.
If Reynolds had dropped off the chutes . . .
Naw. He wouldn’t... That was just her anger talking.