Countdown_Grayson by Allie Boniface

Author:Allie Boniface [Boniface, Allie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: second chance, small town, secret baby, boxing, surprise baby, Sports Romance, alpha hero
Publisher: DFM Publishing
Published: 2019-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

11:00 p.m.

Grayson scanned the parking lot, the entrance, the dumpsters off to one side. He didn’t recognize anyone or any vehicle, not like that meant a whole hell of a lot. He’d spent more time drunk than sober at The Last Call. He wouldn’t be surprised if the entire interior of the building looked like nothing more than a blur. A vile taste rose into the back of his throat, and he tried to swallow it away, but his mouth had gone completely dry and he gagged instead.

“You okay?”

He nodded, hating that Kara was seeing him like this, that they had to be there at all. He felt like he was shriveling into a shell of himself, turning back into a man he didn’t know and didn’t want to run across again. For a moment he almost left, just said Fuck this and drove back up the mountain. Then he thought of Jade’s blue eyes, her absolute dependency on him, the woman who’d left her behind and the million and one mistakes so far in his life, and he manned up and yanked open the front door. For a minute, only silence. Then...

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” The raspy, sarcastic voice belonged to the man behind the bar, a middle-aged biker named Cronk. Grayson didn’t actually know if that was his first name or last name or a nickname. He’d never heard Cronk called anything else, but he’d tended bar there as long as Grayson could remember.

“Hey, Cronk.”

“Where ya been, Champ?” Cronk chewed on a toothpick and wiped a rag over the bar. Two other guys sat belly up to it, mugs half full and their mouths slack-jawed as they watched a ball game on TV. “Haven’t see ya in what, two months? Three?”

Ninety-six days and counting.

“You see anything that rings a bell?” Kara said in a low voice. “Or anyone?”

Grayson shook his head.

“Hey there, pretty lady,” Cronk went on. “Don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.” He leaned over the bar and held out his hand. “Name’s Cronk.”

“Kara,” she said as she returned his handshake. “Nice to meet you.” She pulled out a stool, stopped, and wiped her palm on her jeans. Grayson imagined either Cronk’s hand, or the stool—probably both, come to think of it—had a good five or six layers of filth on it. Fresh shame washed over him.

“Sorry,” he muttered. Sorry for bringing her here, sorry for the dirt on her hands, sorry that he’d made so many wrong choices that they had to come to a shitty dive bar to rule it out as a place he’d met Jade’s mother.

“Draft?” Cronk offered. He reached up to pull a tap, but they both shook their heads.

“Just water for me,” Grayson said.

“I’ll take a ginger ale,” Kara told him.

One of the men at the bar blinked over at them. Grayson didn’t recognize him. He could hear someone in the back, washing dishes or maybe banging pans on the grill. He couldn’t remember who cooked for The Last Call—not like you could really call it cooking.

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