by Jamie Beck
Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. He called Grizzly’s to see if they still needed an off-season bartender.”
Kelsey cut in. “Apparently things aren’t so hot with little Miss Silver Spoon anymore.”
“Phht,” Avery said, waving one hand dismissively. “Didn’t take too long, did it?”
“So, does that weird face you’re making mean you wouldn’t take him back if he returned?” Kelsey asked.
“Why would you think I’d take him back?” Avery bugged her eyes. “Do I have chump written across my forehead or something?”
“Because you loved him and you guys had talked about the future, even if you weren’t officially engaged.” Kelsey’s sincere consternation galled Avery.
“I thought I loved him, until he dumped me and took off!” Avery’s mouth twitched. She picked up the sweaty, cold bottle of Blue Moon Harvest and took a swig, wishing the beer would wash away the shame of being duped by Matt. “Honestly, as if his betrayal wasn’t enough, do you think I’d want to go back to the mousier version of myself I was becoming in that relationship? No, thanks. He pulled me under once, but I’m free now. I’ve never made the same mistake twice, and I’m not about to start with Matt.”
“But—” Kelsey began, but then Emma interrupted.
“Kels, Matt isn’t any of our business.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.” Kelsey slumped back into her seat. “I just want to see one of us in love and happy.”
Avery adored Kelsey’s mushy heart, even if she never did understand it.
“Since when has love ever guaranteed happiness?” Avery fixed her gaze on the bottle in front of her. She picked at the edges of its wet label, then raised the rim to her lips and chugged a good portion of its contents. “Besides, none of our hearts have done a good job of picking a partner. Just as well, from what I’ve seen of marriage, anyway.”
Silently, Avery vowed to be smart. To see the heady swirl of lust and infatuation for what it was instead of pretending it was something more. To remember that flirtatious nicknames, sultry eyes, and full, kissable lips were merely tools of seduction, not love.
Chapter Four
Avery’s blissful moment of relaxation—nestled into the corner of the sofa, sipping her chai while flipping through Shape magazine—ended when her father stormed into the living room from the garage, the vein in his temple straining beneath his skin.
“Avery, what’s this I hear about you working with Grey Lowell?” He came within a few feet of her and then folded his arms. “I had to learn about it from Joe at the hardware store. Said Andy must be grateful that you’re trying to butter up Lowell. Made me feel like an ass.”
“Joe’s an idiot, Dad. And I didn’t mention it because there’s already enough tension in this house.” Her dad’s continual disappointment hung over the roof like a dense fog, each swipe he took at Andy exploding like a grenade in the living room. Snide remarks like Joe’s only made her dad more irate.
She’d been grateful for her parents’ help caring for her brother during his recovery this past month, but now she wished they’d return to Arizona until his trial.
Avery continued reading the magazine, determined not to let her dad destroy another Saturday morning. “Anyway, I’m just doing my job.”
“Don’t give me that malarkey, young lady. Nobody’s forcing you to work with that man. In fact, I can’t believe you’re allowed to treat him, under the circumstances.”
“That man is not the enemy.” She rested the magazine on her lap, her hands tightly gripping its edges. “He’s a patient who recently had knee surgery. There aren’t any other ortho PTs within thirty miles of town, so I’m working with him. It won’t be a problem.”
Even as the words fell from her mouth, she knew them to be untrue.
“Surely you can’t be so naïve. You know he’s going to sue your brother. You’d be wise to remember Andy’s chief asset is half of this house.” He gestured up to the ceiling and around the open space. “You know your mom and I count on the monthly loan payments as part of our retirement income. We can’t afford for Grey Lowell to pocket your brother’s half of its value in a forced sale.”
An uneasy pit opened up in Avery’s stomach. She’d been so focused on her brother’s more immediate health and criminal concerns, she hadn’t really thought about the house. And if Grey came after it, she and her parents would inadvertently be entangled in the legal mess between her brother and him.
The weight of responsibility for her dad’s current stress bore down hard.
“You’re always jumping to the worst-case scenario. What makes you think he’ll start some major legal battle rather than settle up with the insurance company?” Her pulse began to speed up, but she didn’t want her dad to notice he’d succeeded in making her doubt herself.
“He hasn’t accepted Andy’s insurance company’s offer, so apparently he considers it insufficient.” Her father huffed in that superior way he’d perfected by the time she’d turned ten.
Still, the news surprised her. Grey hadn’t struck her as greedy.
“So what are you suggesting? I should drop him as a patient?” She tipped up her chin to hide the shiver sliding down her spine. “Would that make him more or less cooperative, do you think?”
“You always have an answer for everything, don’t you. But mark my words: this won’t end well. Not for your brother, not for you, and not for your mom and me.” He turned on his heel and marched toward his bedroom to continue the argument with her mother, she presumed.
Avery tossed the magazine aside, her dad’s warning ringing in her ears, echoing her own secret fears. Suddenly, she was no longer interested in the healthy peanut butter bar recipe she’d been perusing before her dad had ruined her mood. She glanced around her living room.
Large picture windows offered a distant mountain-range view. The décor resembled something along the lines of mountain-treehouse-meets-Mexico. Earth tones and exposed beams grounded the space, but festive drapes, pillows, and carpets splashed vibrant color and patterns all around.
Her parents had nearly dropped over in shock the first time they’d come back to visit and seen all the changes she’d made. She’d done it to please herself. To make it hers instead of theirs.
Cosmetic changes did not, however, erase her memories of growing up there: building pillow forts with Andy, sleepovers and secrets, the first kiss on the back deck, report cards on the refrigerator, and her favorite tradition—eggnog French toast every Christmas morning.
Treasured memories in her beloved home—now a home at risk.
If Grey filed a lawsuit against Andy, she’d have to drop him as a patient. And what if he won? Of course he’d win, but how much? Enough to force Andy to sell the house to pay him? Enough to wipe out her entire family’s finances?
At least she had a stable career and a respectable paycheck. Andy and her parents would really suffer if they lost the house.
She scrubbed her face.
Helpless.
Helpless didn’t suit her. She hated being vulnerable to someone’s whim or will. Watching her mom live under her dad’s thumb had been a huge turnoff for most of her life. And yet, she’d ultimately let herself fall under Matt’s spell.
He’d influenced everything from her appearance to her opinions, and even had her questioning the wisdom of living out her life in Sterling Canyon. That mistake in judgment resulted in public humiliation when he cheated, and, worse, utter self-disgust. Never again could she allow herself to be so weak for a man.
But men weren’t at issue now. Legal battles were on the horizon.
And as much as she’d like to blame Grey for her current predicament, she couldn’t.
Normally, her brother’s tendency toward irresponsibility was harmless: paying a bill late, losing his car keys, shrinking her favorite shirt when trying to “help” with
the laundry.
However, Grey sustained serious and potentially life-changing injuries thanks to Andy’s carelessness. Andy had broken the law and put all of their financial situations in jeopardy. He was to blame, not Grey.
A streak of resentment stabbed her heart. She inhaled deeply to relieve the mounting tension. But the walls around her pressed against her from every angle. She needed to go do something productive. To be anywhere else.
She heaved herself off the sofa and grabbed a large garbage bag from under the sink before going into her room to purge her closet.
“This is a good bundle of gently used clothes, honey.” Mrs. Johnston, the proprietor of Finders Keepers Thrift Store, refolded the last sweater in the pile and pushed it aside. While Avery stuck the receipt in her wallet, Mrs. Johnston tucked her chin and peered over her glasses. “I haven’t seen your poor mom in town. Is she in hiding because of all this business with Andy?”
Prickly heat swept through Avery’s body. “No one’s in hiding. My mom’s simply taking care of Andy while he recovers from his lung surgery, but I’ll be sure to give them both your regards.” Avery hoped her hint of snark nipped at Mrs. Johnston’s conscience. She turned on her heel and exited the shop as quickly as her feet could move.
Her patience for prying “friends” like Joe at the hardware store and Mrs. Johnston had worn thin. Having her family constantly scrutinized by everyone stank. The fact their opinions bothered her really stank.
Avery shuttled along the sidewalk, looking around at the storefronts lining the street: a Technicolor version of the Old West towns in black-and-white movies.
Sidewalks were wet with snowmelt from the banks of dirty snow at the edges of the road. Fewer pedestrians clogged the sidewalks nowadays. The busiest time of the year was winding down, with only the die-hard skiers still visiting.
The refreshing cool air tempted her to remain outdoors despite the lack of sunshine. Cupping her hands over her mouth, she breathed into them to warm her fingers and nose. She zipped up her jacket, stuffed her hands in its pockets, and turned left toward the small town square where she often went to think.
When she arrived, it didn’t surprise her to find it empty. Only a fool avoiding reality would sit in a park surrounded by a handful of random graying mounds of old snow. She slid onto an ice-free bench and stretched her legs while admiring the cathedral spires of the San Juans, which surrounded town like a fortress wall.
But even Mother Nature’s spectacular beauty failed to occupy her mind for long.
Then a loud bark drew her attention. She looked up at the beautiful golden labrador racing toward her. After a sharp whistle split the air, she heard a familiar voice yell, “Shaman!”
Grey trailed behind the dog. Oh God—the absolute last person she needed to see right now. She’d been seeking a quiet place to think and ended up coming face-to-face with the very source of her dilemma.
Shaman slowed his pace but still approached her, nuzzling her legs, seeking attention.
“Aren’t you sweet?” Avery scratched the dog behind his ears, avoiding eye contact with Grey until she could slow her heart rate. “Yes, you are.”
When Grey finally reached the bench, his enormous smile somehow brightened her otherwise dreary day. “Hey, Bambi, no wonder he saw you from a mile away.”
Avery continued petting the dog, pretending not to be stirred by Grey’s presence. “And what does that mean?”
“You’re a kaleidoscope in a sea of gray.”
She looked down at her sky-blue corduroys, lilac sweater, and lemon-yellow jacket. When she grimaced, he quickly added, “I mean it in the very best way.”
Grey leaned his crutches alongside the bench before sitting beside her. He found a short, thick, broken branch on the ground and tossed it to his left. Shaman barked and took off after his prize.
Despite her mood, a smile formed. Grey had that effect on her, darn him. “If you slip on patchy ice so soon after surgery, you’re risking another ACL tear and jeopardizing whatever progress we’ve made these past few weeks.”
“Shaman needs to run.” The dog returned and dropped the stick at Grey’s feet. He picked it up and tossed it again. “Besides, I’m going crazy sitting around. You said motion is important. I brought the crutches so I could ease up if needed. Trust me, no one wants to get stronger more than I do.”
Avery sighed, wishing she could read Grey’s mind and determine whether he was willing to take her house, or planning to testify against Andy in the criminal proceedings. If she stopped lying to herself, she’d also admit to wanting to learn more about Grey Lowell the man.
“He’s a beautiful dog.” Avery watched the dog tearing up the ground to retrieve the branch. “How’d you come up with that name?”
Grey stretched his legs out and rubbed his thigh. “It’s an Indian word for medicine man.”
“Very cool.” She glanced at Shaman, who was already returning.
“He’s a healer, like you.” Grey grinned.
That grin melted her insides a little.
“I’d prefer Shaman to Bambi.” She playfully cocked one brow, even as she resented succumbing to his charm.
“Just accept the fact you don’t get a vote.” He winked at her. The words heart aflutter had always sounded corny to her until that moment. His silken waves of hair called to be touched. His intense gray eyes sparkled with mischief. His lips . . .
Don’t be stupid, Avery. Too much at stake.
She crossed her arms and refocused. “Where exactly do you live? Because you really shouldn’t be pushing it.”
“Above the office, just a few blocks away.” Grey withdrew a small bag of lollipops from his pocket and offered her one. When she declined, he grabbed one for himself and shoved the rest back in his coat.
She straightened her spine. “Backtrax is more than a few blocks. Pretty far for this stage of your recovery, especially with the pits in the sidewalks and roads.”
“Are you worried about me?” His good knee brushed against her thigh when he twisted toward her to toss the branch in the opposite direction. She kept her leg still, maintaining contact. Apparently her body didn’t care about her brain’s warnings.
“More like I’m worried all my hard work will end up down the drain.”
“Nah. I’m tough.”
She believed that about him. Saw, had seen, the evidence. Well-developed calf and thigh muscles. A strong core and sinewy arms and shoulders. A sculpted body earned through years of healthy, active living and sports, not from protein powders and calculated weight training.
“You’d have to be in your profession.” She’d skied the backcountry with her brother from time to time, but they’d never pushed too hard. Would it be fun or frightening to ski with Grey? “Do you like Sterling Canyon?”
“So far, so good. The skiing’s pretty sweet, and the town is beautiful.” Grey gestured around with his arm. Then he looked right into her eyes. “Just like one of its residents.”
Avery caught herself blinking again, like flippin’ Bambi. Meanwhile, he remained completely comfortable and confident, as if it were no big deal at all to tell her he thought she was pretty. His grin widened at her silence.
Flustered, Avery deflected. “Is that so different from your hometown?”
“Not much. I grew up in Truckee, outside of Lake Tahoe, but I left a couple of years after high school and traveled around, working at different resorts. Colorado, Utah, Alaska.” Grey tilted his head. “Guess that makes me a vagabond, huh?”
“Or just very well traveled, unlike me.” Funny how the notion Sterling Canyon might be just another pit stop for Grey came as a letdown instead of a relief. “So then, will your time here be short-lived, too?”
“Depends.” He flashed a smile, the one that should come with a “hazardous to your health” sign.
“On what?” Curiously,
she’d stopped breathing for a second.
He grinned again, like he’d noticed her anticipation, but then his expression grew serious and he glanced away. “On what happens with Backtrax.”
More accurately, with his case against Andy—a topic they couldn’t discuss.
Grey’s livelihood and Andy’s freedom both hung in the balance, with her family’s finances caught in between. The heaviness of heart that had driven her to the park returned.
“But I hope I’ll be around a long time,” he finally said, breaking the gloomy silence.
“Do you ever miss your home?”
Before Grey looked away, she saw the light in his eyes dim a bit. “Home is where the heart is, right?”
“In other words, butt out?” She grinned despite feeling a little deflated.
He closed one eye and tapped his index finger against the side of his nose. She dropped the line of inquiry, although curiosity about his past tickled her psyche.
“Why aren’t you skiing on your day off?” Grey’s casual tone couldn’t conceal his obvious desire to change the subject. “The mountain closes soon.”
Now it was her turn to obfuscate. She turned her face away for a second and then looked straight ahead. “I usually ski with my brother. But even if he were healed, having fun isn’t a priority right now.” Her jaw clenched at another reminder of her brother’s dismal future. “Funny how life moves on, when all I want is to turn back time.”
She gripped the edges of the bench and glanced at her shoes. Like every other time she imagined Andy going to jail, she got teary. His looming fate made her feel selfish for worrying about her house. She hid her tears behind the wall of hair shielding her face. Heat raced to her cheeks as she considered what Grey must think of her odd behavior.
But then his warm hand covered hers in comfort, and her heart skidded to a halt.
“You’re thinking about the criminal charges?” he asked.
She nodded, lungs tightening. “We’re all so afraid about what might happen to him while he’s behind bars.”
