Always & Forever: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection, Books 1 - 4)

by Brenna Jacobs

  Tucker draped an arm across Avery’s shoulders. “Avery told me how you took care of her leg the other day. That was really great of you.”

  Tucker’s words sounded sincere enough, but he still rubbed David the wrong way. There was a territorial vibe to the way he pulled Avery close to him, and a look in his eye that clearly said mine, mine, mine.

  “I wish I could stay and join ya’ll for dinner,” Tucker said, “but I’ve got a business meeting I need to get to. Another time, though. I’d love to get to know you better, David.” Tucker’s Southern accent made his words sound lilting and smooth. David couldn’t decide if it made them more convincing or not. They seemed to work on Avery, though. She moved toward him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.”

  Tucker whispered something in her ear, too low for David to hear, and Avery blushed, shoving Tucker playfully. “Get out of here,” she said. “I mean it.”

  Tucker grinned cockily before looking at David one last time, his eyebrows raised as if to challenge him. David didn’t so much as flinch, though it took all his willpower not to do so. He wasn’t delusional enough to think he could ever compete with someone like Tucker. But he had enough pride to hold his ground, even if he felt like dying on the inside.

  Avery gave Tucker a final wave goodbye as he pulled out of the driveway then finally turned her full attention on David. She took a deep breath and smiled wide. “Ready? I bought us some oysters.”

  David tensed. Oysters? When MUSC had invited him out to Charleston to offer him the attending position in the ER, they’d taken him to dinner at a raw bar downtown. He’d watched as everyone else had slurped down the oysters; David had come close, but it only took one person at the table saying something about salty sea snot for him to abandon the cause. “If I don’t eat the oysters, I still get the job, right?” he’d asked. Everyone had laughed, assuring him his job was safe, which was all he needed to know to stay oyster-free.

  But for Avery?

  “Come on,” Avery said, motioning toward her backyard. “They’re on ice on the back porch. Harvested fresh this afternoon.”

  David silently hoped there was also a deep fryer on the back porch. Enough breading and sizzling fat, and he could choke anything down.

  “Did you harvest them?” he asked as he followed Avery around the side of her house.

  “Nah, it’s too hot. After the end of May, the island closes the public shellfish grounds because the water is too warm. Too much risk of bacteria.”

  “You say that like someone who has harvested them before.”

  She looked over her shoulder and grinned. “Ask me in February and I’ll take you with me.” She pulled open the door to her screened in back porch, holding it open with her hip while David filed in behind her.

  “Have you ever had oysters before?” She led him to a table pushed up against the back of the house and opened a large cooler that sat on top. David peered in and saw dozens of large, bumpy shells resting on a cold bed of ice. He swallowed. “Nope. But not because I haven’t had the opportunity.”

  Avery laughed. “That’s what everybody says until they’ve had oysters with me. You dress them the right way? I promise it’s an experience you won’t want to forget.”

  He looked at her, at the evening sun on her hair and the freckles on her cheeks and the excitement in her eyes and thought he’d probably eat anything if she asked him to. She was mesmerizing. Stunning. Captivating in a way no woman had ever captivated him before. He cleared his throat. “So, Tucker.”

  Avery stilled. “What about him?”

  Good question. David had brought him up, but why? What did he really want to know about the guy? “How are things going between you two?”

  “Good, I guess,” Avery said. “Stay here—I need to get all the fixings from the kitchen.” She left the door into the kitchen open, the cool air pouring out and over David. He’d almost forgotten how warm it was until he felt the contrast. Avery appeared moments later carrying a large tray full of lemons and cocktail sauce, crackers, olive oil and what looked like minced garlic. She set it down on the table beside the cooler. “I’m sorry if things got weird with him, there at the end before he left. I saw him giving you that . . .” She wiggled her hands in front of her face. “That look.”

  David cleared his throat, suddenly wishing he’d never brought Tucker up. “It definitely felt a little like he was claiming his territory.”

  “Which is dumb,” Avery said, not missing a beat. “I’m not territory to be claimed.”

  “I agree with you,” David said. He swallowed the next part of his comment. If she thought Tucker was dumb, why was she dating him?

  “So why am I dating him?” she asked, guessing his thoughts.

  David let out a breath. “I didn’t say that.”

  “No, but you thought it. I could practically hear the words buzzing around in your brain.”

  “I’ll think quieter next time,” David said with a grin. “But truly—it’s none of my business. You don’t really owe me an answer.”

  “Except, I like you, Dave. And I don’t want you to think I’m an idiot.” She lifted a few oysters out of the cooler, placing them on the countertop, and picked up a knife with a rounded wooden handle and a short, pointed blade. “Here. You take this one.” She picked up another knife, slightly smaller, then reached for an oyster. She paused, knife poised over the shell and looked David right in the eyes. “Tucker and I were really good together for close to two years. Our break-up wasn’t great, but we’ve both grown and changed over the past year, so I think we’re going to give it another go. The whole situation is still so new. I think he just felt a little weird about you and me having dinner together.”

  David held her gaze. “Okay.”

  Avery’s shoulders fell. “You don’t believe me.”

  He sighed. “Avery, I only spent four seconds with the guy, and your relationship isn’t any of my business.” Did she want him to wish her good luck? Tell her he thought Tucker was a great guy? He really hadn’t spent enough time with him to form a valid opinion and he doubted Avery would want to hear his invalid opinion, seeing as how it was hastily formed and based on raging jealousy.

  Clearing his throat, he held up his oyster knife. “So I guess I’m supposed to use this for something?”

  Avery hesitated only a moment before fully embracing David’s subject change. “Yes.” She looked at the oyster still in her hand. “So you slide the knife in here, at the hinge, like so,” she said, as she demonstrated, “then slide it all the way around the edge until you can lift the top right off.” She lifted the top of the shell, revealing a shining, shimmering . . . glob. David took a deep breath. He was really supposed to eat that thing? Steeling his nerves, he tried to smile at Avery. He’d seen some of the grossest things imaginable in the ER. He could handle this.

  She laughed. “Oh my word. Try not to look so miserable. At least not until you actually try one.” She held out the oyster. “Here. You hold this, and I’ll doctor it up for you.”

  “Wait, you’re going to make me eat it right now? Right here as we shuck them?”

  “Absolutely,” Avery said. “At least this first one. I want to know what you think.”

  “Right now now?” David asked again.

  “Now now,” Avery said. “So first you add a little splash of lemon.” David watched as she squeezed the lemon slice over the oyster. “Then you add a little bit of olive oil, a little bit of garlic paste, and a healthy dollop of cocktail sauce.”

  “And I’m just supposed to . . .” David felt panic rising in his throat and he swallowed it down. The panic, not the oyster. He still wasn’t sure he’d be able to manage that.

  “Slurp it down,” Avery said. “Except, wait.” She picked up a little tiny fork off the tray. “It’s easier if you loosen it from the shell first. That way, it falls right into your mouth.” She stuck the fork under the oyster, wiggling it gently until the mass slid forward just slightly. />
  David held the oyster in his hand but made no move to lift it to his mouth.

  “Come on!” Avery said, bouncing on her toes. “Shake it a little, then take it all in at once.”

  He held the oyster to his lips but hesitated. “I don’t know if I can do it,” he said, legit fear in his voice.

  Avery laughed. “Come on!” she said again. “Trust the flavor explosion. I promise you’ll love it.”

  Gathering his nerves, he tilted the oyster into his mouth and slurped.

  It actually did feel like a flavor explosion in his mouth. The salt of the oyster and the bite of the cocktail sauce and the smooth nutty flavor of the olive oil combined into something that actually tasted . . . good. He chewed and swallowed, then met Avery’s gaze, his eyes wide. “That was amazing.”

  She held her hands up in victory. “See? I told you!”

  “I mean, the texture is a little weird. But it’s totally worth it.”

  “You get used to the texture,” Avery said. “Some people eat them with crackers so they have something to crunch, but I think the crackers dilute the flavor. This is the best way.”

  “I trust you,” David said, surprised by how much he actually meant what he said. “Can I have another one?”

  They stood on the back porch, laughing and talking as they shucked the rest of the oysters, then they took them inside where the conversation continued as they ate, right down to the very last oyster.

  “The last one is yours,” Avery said. “You’re the guest.”

  David shook his head. “But you’re the chef. You deserve it.”

  “I’m pretty sure God was the chef of these. I can’t take the credit.”

  David dressed the oyster, then handed it to her. “You at least get the credit for convincing me to try them. I’m officially converted.”

  Avery grinned, then ate the last oyster, dropping the shell back onto the plate. “Get a little sun on those shoulders and we might make you a South Carolina boy yet.”

  “I think I need to make it through my first hurricane before I can take that title,” David said with a roll of his eyes. “Get over my need to board up the windows when the first cloud blows in.”

  Avery laughed and adrenaline surged through David’s veins. Knowing he’d caused that sound was the best kind of natural high.

  “But you were so cute trying to board up your windows.”

  “Very funny,” David said. Something crackled in the air between them. At least, David felt like something did, though he was far from an expert. But there was something about the way Avery looked at him, about the awareness in her gaze, that made him wonder. Did she sense it too? As far as he was concerned, everything about Avery felt both incredible and impossible all at the same time. He was afraid to look away, mostly because he couldn’t believe she was there, with him, in the first place.

  An image of Tucker, his arms wrapped around Avery, flashed through his mind.

  Stupid Tucker.

  David pushed himself up from the table with enough force that his chair tipped backward, clattering to the kitchen floor.

  Avery looked at him in surprise. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat, trying to cover his discomfort. Stupid Tucker? No. Stupid ego—his ego—was likely more appropriate. He ran a hand across his jaw. “Want to go for a walk?”

  Avery raised her eyebrows. “There’s more food. I baked some halibut. And then there’s dessert.”

  “Oh, right. Of course there is. Sorry.” He moved to sit back down, but Avery stilled him with a hand on his arm.

  “Let’s take a walk first,” she said. “You look like you could use some air. And the food will keep.”

  David’s shoulders relaxed. Air sounded good. A walk sounded even better. Spending time with Avery made him feel a little like a caged animal. His feelings were so intense, so overwhelming, it took a lot of effort to remain calm. Normal.

  His impulse was to just tell her. How beautiful he thought she was. How captivating he found her smile. How much he appreciated her sense of humor, her understated confidence. It was completely ridiculous. He’d only known the woman a couple of weeks. Only spent a handful of days in her presence.

  David had never experienced anything like it before. When it came to relationships of any kind, he was cautious, careful. It generally took him a long time to warm up to new people. It hadn’t taken five minutes for him to warm up to Avery. Why was she so different? It made him feel reckless, which thrilled him and terrified him all at the same time.

  Chapter 7

  Avery led David down the sandy path that cut between their backyards to the beach. Halfway there, the path turned into a worn, wooden walkway that wound through twenty-five yards of scrubby beach flora, a natural barrier that separated the water from the homes that lined the shoreline. It was one of the things she loved most about Sullivan’s. No long, concrete boardwalks, or looming hotels overshadowing the beach. Her island was wild and unpolished, just the way she liked it. The sun was low on the horizon behind them, minutes from dropping behind the island.

  “It’s beautiful here,” David said, an echo to her own thoughts. “Sometimes when I’m working too much, I forget this is in my backyard.”

  They hit the beach and turned right, walking toward the lighthouse that rose in the distance.

  “You ought to come out here every day,” Avery said. “Make it a part of your bedtime ritual.”

  “Is it part of your bedtime ritual?” He asked the question, but then looked away quickly enough that she almost missed the blush coloring his cheeks. She bit her lip, not wanting to smile and make him even more uncomfortable. Was it just that he’d referenced her bedtime routine that made him so nervous? Could the poor guy be any more adorable?

  “Most nights, yes,” Avery said. “I think it makes it easier for me to fall asleep.”

  “Why? Because of the sounds?”

  Avery shrugged. “That’s maybe a part of it. But it’s more about remembering that the world is so much bigger than I am, you know? It’s hard to look at the vastness of the ocean and stay lost inside your own head. Out here, I feel small. But not in a bad way.”

  “No, I get that,” David said. “Like a reminder that all the little things that we make so important in our self-centered lives don’t actually matter when you think about how big the world really is. I felt that hiking the Andes in Bolivia.”

  “Exactly!” Avery reached out and grabbed David’s arm, just above his wrist, excited that he understood how she felt. She’d tried to explain her feelings to Tucker once and he’d completely misunderstood. “How is feeling small a good thing?” he’d said, shooting her a confused look.

  Before she moved her hand, David shifted, twisting his arm and catching her fingers with his own. It happened so fast she hardly knew how it happened, but it did happen, and she was legit holding his hand.

  Heat traveled up her arm, pinging her heart in places she didn’t expect. What was happening to her? She wasn’t interested in David. David was . . . everything that had never been her type. Which meant she had to let go of his hand. She pulled her hand away, crouching down and adjusting the strap on her sandal that didn’t actually need adjusting. “Um, want to look for sand dollars?”

  David paused before answering, looking at his hand a long moment before shoving it into his pocket. She’d tried to be subtle, but he’d clearly felt her rejection. “As long as you make sure I don’t kill any,” David said, a serious look in his eye.

  His eyes somehow looked bluer on the beach. With little flecks of gold that shone in the late evening light. She suddenly wondered what he’d look like with his glasses off, his hair a little more tousled, the top few buttons of his shirt undone.

  “Tucker’s an attorney,” she said abruptly, willing the image of her boyfriend into her mind. Or would she still call him her ex-boyfriend? Maybe her newly recycled boyfriend?

  “Great,” David said, following behind her as she walked clo
ser to the water. That’s where they’d find the best sand dollars.

  “His father is in real estate. He owns half of Charleston, and Tucker sits on his legal team.”

  “Good for him,” David said, his voice detached.

  “He really is a nice guy,” Avery said. Why was she still talking about Tucker? “Maybe we could all go out sometime. On a double date or something. I have this friend at work I could set you up with, if you want. Her name is Shelley.”

  David stopped, leveling her a stare that was so pointed, so completely transparent that it almost took Avery’s breath away. David’s eyes said everything, like they were some kind of conduit to his innermost thoughts.

  I don’t want to go on a double date with you.

  I don’t want to be set up with anyone.

  I want you. I want you. I want you.

  Still, he said nothing until he raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sure. If you want.”

  Avery swallowed, afraid to break eye contact. “Great.”

  “Great,” David repeated.

  Avery could almost picture Shelley and David together. Almost. Shelley would agree to it, she was sure, but only because Avery had told her David was a doctor. That kind of thing had always impressed Shelley.

  And that didn’t sit right in Avery’s mind. David wasn’t just a status symbol or a six-figure income. He was a real guy who had a lot more to offer than his paycheck. But then, he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy that had dates lined up at his front door. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing if status got the girl on the date, as long as it wasn’t the only reason she stuck around. Avery grunted in frustration. Why did she care so much in the first place?

  She didn’t.

  She shouldn’t.

  She wasn’t going to think about it anymore.

  “Should we just keep standing here staring at each other?” David said.

  Avery brought her focus back to the moment. “Sorry, let’s walk,” Avery said quickly, heading off again down the beach. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, looking for signs of the smooth, white sand dollars she knew they’d find hiding in the sand.