“My daughter likes you. Your sisters like you.” He used his thumb to draw circles on the center of her palm. “Is it possible that you sell yourself short in the likability department?”
“I spent the night with you and then freaked out.” She arched a brow. “That’s not likable.”
He grinned. “It’s probably because you were overwhelmed by the best sex of your life.”
Her eyes widened a fraction before she purposely rolled them. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I know I felt that way after being with you.” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “Totally blown away.”
“Oh.”
He loved the color that bloomed in her cheeks. “So what next? If you don’t like who you were before, why not reinvent yourself here?” He held his breath as he waited for her response. Silently prayed for her to see things his way. He didn’t want to let her go. Not yet. And if she stayed, maybe he wouldn’t have to.
Instead of answering, she yanked her hand out of his grasp and stood. “I should go. You probably want to shower and rest.”
“I might need help bathing.”
“I...um...”
“I’m joking,” he told her, pushing himself up to a sitting position. “Unless you can’t resist me.”
“I can resist you.”
“We’ll see.”
She reached out and playfully swatted the side of his head. “Clearly the accident did nothing to affect your ego.”
“We can all be grateful.”
“I’ll be back in the morning,” she told him. “To drive Violet to school.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Reality came crashing back as he thought about how long a full recovery might take. He couldn’t push it even if he wanted to pretend like he was fine. If he didn’t give his body time to heal, he’d be of no use to anyone. “I can ask my mom to help.” He also hated relying on his mother but wouldn’t have much of a choice until he felt better.
“It’s no problem,” Avery said. “You actually saved me from falling through a floor. The least I can do is help out now. Are you sure there isn’t anything else you need tonight?”
You, he wanted to tell her. How could he ask her to stay when she’d already done so much? He couldn’t even explain to himself why her presence made such a difference. It all went back to the fact that he was a total idiot where women were concerned.
“Okay, then.” She glanced around the darkened room, like she was as reluctant to leave as he was to have her go. She took a few steps away, then turned back to him. “Call or text if you need anything. I’ll keep my phone turned on.”
He gave a small nod, not trusting himself to speak. He’d probably do something really stupid like beg her to stay.
She scooped up Spot, who was blissfully snoring from her place on a blanket that had been arranged like a bed on the rug.
“Do you have a guest room?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
“Upstairs, second door on the right as you head down the hall.”
“Would it be weird if I stayed there tonight? I’d feel better if—”
“Please do,” he blurted, then cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s not necessary but in case Violet wakes up. She usually doesn’t, but I’m not exactly at my best if she needs anything and—”
“I’ll stay,” she whispered.
He wanted to insist she join him in his bed again, but as much as he craved her touch he’d be fairly useless at the moment.
“Thank you,” he answered instead.
“Good night, Gray.”
He wasn’t sure why it made him so damn happy to have her here. She was seeing him at his weakest, but he couldn’t have cared less. It didn’t even bother him if pity led her to make the offer. He’d gotten used to being alone since his divorce, but Avery changed everything. He should head up to his bedroom but instead adjusted the sofa pillow behind his head and closed his eyes. Somehow knowing she was under the same roof made it easy to fall asleep.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AVERY WAS IN the kitchen braiding Violet’s hair the next morning when she heard a car door slam. She was almost to the door when it burst open and she stood face-to-face with Gray’s ex-wife. His narrow-eyed, angry-looking ex-wife.
“Uh-oh,” she muttered.
“Hi, Mommy,” Violet said but didn’t move from where she sat on the stool at the island. “See my fishtail braids?” Avery had given the girl strict instructions on fidgeting or getting down from the stool until she finished braiding. Violet took her braids seriously.
“Who are you?” Stacy demanded of Avery, ignoring her daughter’s greeting. “Where’s Gray?”
“He’s sleeping,” Violet reported. “Avery had a sleepover. She doesn’t like childrens but she’s the best at hair.”
Stacy’s nostrils flared.
“Not exactly a sleepover,” Avery explained. “Gray was injured in an accident and—”
“Why do you think I’m here?” Stacy asked, a steel edge to her voice.
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
“You’re his girlfriend?”
Avery opened her mouth to deny it, but changed her mind. This woman had cheated on Gray and broken his heart. Avery knew the kind of damage that could do. Hell, she’d been part of inflicting it. She had no sympathy for a woman who had done the scorning.
“That’s not your concern,” she replied.
“It is.” Stacy stepped closer. “If your involvement with Gray involves my daughter.”
“Put away the claws, Stace.”
Avery turned to see Gray slowly making his way down the staircase. He’d showered and wore a white T-shirt and athletic shorts. His color was better than it had been yesterday and he didn’t seem to be wincing with every breath. She wondered how much was feeling better and what part of the seemingly quick recovery was for his ex-wife’s benefit.
“I heard you were at the hospital yesterday,” Stacy said, stepping around Avery like she was a pile of dog poop. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Mommy, I got a hundred on my spelling test.”
“In a minute,” Stacy said, holding up a finger toward the girl.
Violet’s expression turned mulish as she glared down at the granite counter.
Avery quickly slipped over to Violet. “Maybe you’d like your mommy to finish your hair?”
“You.” Violet breathed out the syllable through pursed lips.
“Then we should give your parents some privacy.” She wanted to be a part of this scene like she craved a root canal, which was to say not at all. She’d done nothing wrong. Gray and his wife had divorced long before Avery’d entered the picture. Not that she was really part of the picture. She’d spent the night in the guest room and woke early this morning, tiptoeing downstairs to prepare a quick breakfast for Gray and his daughter.
Instead she’d found Violet on the couch, watching television. Spot had spied the girl and scampered to her, bounding up on the couch for a few morning licks. Violet had giggled, hugging Spot to her chest before turning a serious gaze to Avery again.
“Daddy never sleeps late,” the girl had told her, not questioning Avery’s presence. “But he’s not awake yet. I went in his room and he’s breathing.”
“Of course he’s breathing,” Avery answered. The poor girl was clearly more worried than she’d let on the previous evening when Avery had tucked her into bed. Avery had glanced up the stairs, then offered Violet a reassuring smile. “I told him to sleep in today,” she lied. “What would you like for breakfast?”
“Donuts.”
Avery continued down the stairs. “Does your daddy let you have donuts for breakfast?” She pointed a finger at Violet when the girl opened her mouth to answer. “If you lie, I’ll know and no braids for a week.”
�
��Only on weekends,” the girl mumbled. “I have to eat fruit with it. Like that matters.”
“So what about school days?”
“Healthy junk,” Violet said. “Can I have toast with peanut butter?”
“What’s the magic word?”
That question earned an eye roll. “Try abracadabra.”
“Try make your own toast.”
“Please, can I have toast?” the girl amended.
Avery smiled, ignoring the fact that she sounded like someone’s mother, a fact that was comical in and of itself.
“Would you please turn off the TV and take Spot out to do her business? I’ll get started on toast.”
“I’m resting,” Violet argued. “Thinking about school makes me tired.”
Avery shrugged. “Fine but you’ll wake up real quick if that dog has an accident on your leg.”
“Gross.” Violet hopped off the couch and headed for the back door. “You aren’t fun.”
“Never claimed to be,” Avery had answered.
Now she wished she’d thrown good sense to the wind and taken the girl for donuts. At least they would have missed Stacy’s angry arrival and the confrontation that felt inevitable with the air inside the house sparking with tension. Violet continued to stare at the countertop as if it held every bit of her attention. Yet Avery had no doubt Violet was aware of what was about to go down.
The girl might not think Avery was fun, but anything had to be better than watching her mom and dad tear into each other. Gray sent her a pleading look across the room. Yesterday he might have seemed vulnerable but no more. Despite the bandage on his forehead and the scrapes to his arm, he’d returned to the alpha male who elicited all sorts of unwanted reactions in her.
“Do you hear Spot whining?” Avery asked softly, cupping a hand over her ear.
Violet gave a sharp shake of her head.
“I do,” Avery continued. “I bet she’s gotten into something and made a huge mess in the carriage house. You want to check it out with me?”
Another head shake.
“I’ll give you ten dollars,” Avery whispered, desperate to be gone before Stacy let Gray have it.
“Violet should have been with me last night,” Stacy said, her voice pitched low. Out of the corner of her eye, Avery saw the woman jab a finger into Gray’s chest. “You should have called me.”
“Twenty,” Violet mumbled.
Avery released a breath. “Done.”
She grabbed the girl’s hand and tugged her off the stool. Stacy didn’t turn around, and Gray kept his attention fixed on his ex-wife like he was staring down a cobra.
“It’s not a big deal,” she heard him say as she ushered Violet toward the back door.
“You had her here with some too-skinny tramp.”
Avery winced as she exited the house. She gulped in deep breaths of the sticky morning air. There was no reason for her to feel ashamed or guilty but the emotions flooded her anyway. She was back in California with Tony’s wife confronting her. Her stomach knotted like she could feel the weight of the condemning stares of people she’d thought were her friends.
“Was that a bark?” She tried for a concerned tone, hoping to distract the girl.
“What’s a tramp?” Violet asked, reaching back to touch the unfinished braid. “Oh, no. It’s ruined.”
“Easily fixed,” Avery promised. She decided to ignore the question.
She’d been labeled much worse but somehow Stacy’s coarse assessment cut her just as deep. Maybe because she’d promised herself she’d never be in that position again, and here she was in a similar predicament through no fault of her own.
No fault other than caring. She should have learned her lesson. When Avery cared, people got hurt. That didn’t stop her from caring about Gray and his daughter.
She could move in with Carrie. Her father’s decrepit, overstuffed house had plenty of available rooms. She’d just have to clear out layers of junk to find a potential bed. Who knew what else she’d find.
Meredith lived on a ranch at the beach outside town. She hadn’t been there, but it was past time to change that. There had to be an extra bed.
She tried to come up with a plan as she toasted another piece of bread for Violet and then rebraided her silky hair. At the same time, she kept up a continual stream of conversation. No chance Violet could ask difficult questions if she couldn’t get a word in.
The girl was just finishing the last bite of her cinnamon-and-sugar-sprinkled toast when a knock sounded on the door.
Avery swallowed hard as she opened it, expecting to see Gray’s ex-wife on the other side, ready to claw out her eyeballs.
Gray stood there instead, his gaze giving away nothing.
“Thank you again.” He ran a hand through his hair, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry this morning turned into a shit show.”
“Is your wife—”
“Ex-wife,” he corrected tightly but nodded. “Stacy is in the house. She’s going to drive Vi to school.”
Disappointment lanced through Avery. There was no reason for her to feel possessive toward the girl, but she did anyway.
“I had sugar bread,” Violet reported as she appeared next to Avery.
“Cinnamon toast,” Avery explained. “With just a tiny bit of sugar added. I don’t have much in the way of quick breakfast items and—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Gray held out a hand to his daughter. “Your hair looks nice.”
“I know.” She gave Avery’s leg a quick hug but didn’t make eye contact, almost as if she were embarrassed about the sentiment. Avery understood the feeling.
“Are you going to thank me?” she asked, tapping a finger on the top of Violet’s head. “Your manners need some work, kid.”
That earned a smile and her heart lurched in response.
“Thanks,” Violet said with a cheeky grin. “Your breakfast making needs some work, too.”
“Violet.” Gray sounded both shocked and exasperated, but Avery laughed.
“Have a good day at school, Violet. Tell Margo hello from me.”
Violet giggled as she slipped her hand into Gray’s. He shook his head and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” to Avery. She knew he was apologizing for far more than his daughter’s attitude.
She shut the door behind them and leaned her forehead against it. Emotions pummeled her from all sides, clamping down on her chest. She struggled to draw in a normal breath. There was no reason to be so affected by the scene with Stacy, but she couldn’t seem to get control of herself. It galled her, because she’d vowed never to lose it again. She’d left San Francisco with the intention of keeping herself out of any emotional entanglements. At this moment, the mess with her father’s estate and her jumbled feelings about that seemed like the least of her worries. Not when her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.
Spot trotted over and scratched at her leg. She lifted the dog into her arms, nuzzling her soft fur. If only everything could be as simple as a dog’s straightforward affection.
* * *
“YOU CAN COME out to Last Acre every morning for the rest of eternity.” Meredith handed Avery a push broom later that week. “I’ll put you to work, but you aren’t moving in with me.”
“One night,” Avery pleaded softly. “You could let me stay one night.”
“What’s wrong with Carrie’s place?” Meredith pointed to the wide planks of the beach house’s front porch, and Avery dutifully began to sweep. She’d first come out to the property after Gray had been picked up by his friend Lucas the morning his ex-wife had shown up at the house.
After Stacy had driven away with Violet, he’d returned to the carriage house but she hadn’t answered the door when he knocked, feeling somehow too vulnerable to handle a confrontation. The thought of contributing in any way to conflict between Gra
y and his ex-wife brought back all the emotions of her disastrous past in California.
Spot had barked and whimpered, and of course, he knew Avery hadn’t left, but she couldn’t face him.
Not when she had no way to explain her powerful reaction to Stacy’s anger. The situation was totally different than what she’d previously experienced, and her rational side understood that his ex had no claim on him. That it wasn’t the same as it had been with Tony.
Too bad her rational side seemed to have melted away in the heat that seemed to linger interminably, making her wonder if North Carolina would ever cool down.
She wiped a hand over her brow, then continued to sweep. At least out here a breeze blew in from the ocean so there was some relief from the scorching heat. They were well into September now, and she’d heard talk that the weather should break soon. She could only hope.
“That house is creepy,” she told Meredith. “I don’t know how Carrie stays there. She’s made a ton of progress on cleaning things out, and I promised I’d be back to help take another load to the donation center this afternoon. But I don’t want to stay where Niall lived. He wanted nothing to do with me when he was alive. I don’t want to feel any attachment to him now.”
Meredith cocked a brow. “I meant the carriage house.”
“Oh.” Avery bit down on the inside of her cheek. She hadn’t told either of her sisters about Stacy, and they certainly didn’t know about her past. “Nothing’s wrong with it,” she lied. “I thought you and I should get to know each other better.” She offered what she hoped was a confident smile. “Carrie’s take on all of this is pretty clear. She was Niall’s real daughter and the one with the most to lose by moving on. I’m still curious about where you stand on things.”
“I stand on my property,” Meredith answered. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what happens to his house or to the buildings downtown, but I need the ranch.”
Avery followed her sister’s gaze toward the large fenced-in enclosure where what looked like a mini herd of dogs was milling about. Beyond that area was the barn, which she’d toured yesterday. In addition to the half-dozen rescue horses housed there, they’d visited pigs, goats and an enclosure of energetic bunnies.
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