by J. Lynn
She glared at me as she started chewing on her thumbnail again. “That wasn’t funny.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Jerk,” she mumbled.
“Nerd.”
One side of her lips curved up. “Bitch-ass.”
“Oh.” I whistled. “Them be fighting words. Keep it up and I’ll turn this truck around.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“You’d be distraught and in tears.” I reached over, pulling her hand away from her mouth. “Stop doing that.”
“Sorry. It’s a bad habit.”
“It is.” I threaded my fingers through hers and brought our joined hands down to my thigh, holding it there.
To distract her, I started talking about the recital my sister was having tonight. Teresa wouldn’t be home until early tomorrow morning. The change of subject seemed to work. Truth be told, as we hit the narrow streets of my hometown, I was nervous.
I hadn’t brought a girl home since high school, and honestly, those times before really didn’t count. Not in this way.
I glanced over at Avery as we came to a red light. She was watching the WVU flag billowing in the wind, her hand still neatly tucked within mine.
“You hanging in there?” I asked, squeezing her hand.
“Yep.” She squeezed my hand back.
My throat was dry as I hit the private road leading up to the house. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watched her reaction.
Her eyes widened as she slipped her hand free and leaned forward. Mom had already broken out some of the Christmas decorations. Large green wreaths hung on the front door and on the windows on the second and third floor.
I parked next to the garage and faced Shortcake, smiling slightly. “You ready?”
A brief flash of panic across her face caused me to fear that she’d take off for the woods, but then she nodded and stepped out. When she reached back to grab her bag, I took it.
“I can carry it,” she said.
I glanced down at the bag I’d slung over my shoulder. “I’ll carry it. Besides I think the pink-and-blue flower print looks amazing on me.”
She laughed nervously. “It’s very flattering on you.”
“Thought so.” I waited for Shortcake to make her way over to me and then walked up the slate pathway. We headed under the covered patio, passing the wicker furniture that Dad hadn’t stowed away yet. One look at Avery, and I winced. “You look like you’re about to have a heart attack.”
“That bad?”
“Close.” Moving closer to her, I tucked a lonely strand of her hair back as I bent down, catching her stare. “You have no reason to be nervous, okay? I promise.”
Her gaze flickered from my eyes to my mouth. “Okay.”
The urge to capture her mouth and taste the sweetness that was unique to her was hard to resist, but I did. Turning, I opened the door and was met with the scent of apple. My stomach grumbled. That better be pie I was smelling.
I led a wide-eyed Avery between the pool tables and the air-hockey table to the stairs. Her gaze darted everywhere, not missing a single thing. I found myself hoping that she liked what she saw, which was weird, because none of this was mine.
“This is the man cave,” I told her, guiding her to the stairs. “Dad spends a lot of time down here. There’s the poker table he kicked my ass on.”
A small smile pulled at her lips. “I like it down here.”
“So do I.” I hesitated at the bottom of the steps. “Mom and Dad are probably upstairs. . . .”
She nodded as she pulled away, silently following me up the stairs and through the living room. Magazines were scattered across the coffee table. Meaning that Teresa had had friends over at some point.
“Living room,” I said, going through an archway. “And this is the second living room or some room that no one sits in. Maybe it’s a sitting room? Who knows? And this is the formal dining room that we never use but have—”
“We do too use the dining room!” shouted Mom. “Maybe once or twice a year, when we have company.”
“And break the ‘good dishes’ out,” I said, glancing down at Avery.
She came to a complete stop at the end of the coffee table, her face paling. I turned, wanting to make this easier for her, but not sure how, and then Mom strolled into the room, smoothing a strand of hair back into her ponytail.
Mom made a beeline for me, catching me in a hug before I could move. “I don’t even know where the ‘good dishes’ are, Cameron.”
I laughed. “Wherever they are, they’re probably hiding from the paper plates.”
Mom laughed as she pulled back, holding on to my shoulders. “Good to have you home. Your father is starting to get on my nerves with all his ‘going hunting’ talk.” Her gaze drifted to Avery and her smile widened. “And this must be Avery?”
“Oh God no,” I said. “This is Candy, Mom.”
Color spread across her cheeks as she stepped back, dropping her arms. “Uh, I’m . . .”
“I’m Avery,” Shortcake said, shooting me a withering look that made me want to kiss her. “You had it right.”
Mom spun, smacking me across the arm. My skin stung. “Cameron! Oh my God, I thought . . .” She smacked me again, and I laughed. “You’re terrible.” Shaking her head, she turned back to Avery. “You must be a patient young lady to have survived a trip here with this idiot.”
Shortcake blinked and then a laugh burst from her. Of course, she laughed at that. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh.” Mom looked over her shoulder at me. “And she’s well mannered. It’s okay. I know my son is a . . . handful. By the way, you can call me Dani. Everyone does.”
Mom hugged Shortcake before the poor girl could even see it coming, and I don’t know why, but seeing those two together did something weird to my chest. My heart started to pound when Avery seemed to unstiffen, wrapping her arms around my mom.
“Thank you for letting me come up,” Shortcake said.
“It’s no problem. We love having the company. Come on, let’s go meet the guy who thinks he’s my better half. And dear God, I apologize ahead of time if he starts talking to you about how many eight-point bucks he’s planning to hunt this weekend.”
I watched as Mom took over, guiding Shortcake through the house, and my heart still hadn’t stopped pounding like a hammer to a stubborn nail.
Shortcake looked over her shoulder, her gaze finding mine, and she smiled as our eyes met. I winked and . . .
And her smile widened.
Seventeen
Watching Avery with my sister was painful at first. Shortcake was almost unbearably shy and my sister, God love her, had to lead her through almost every conversation, gently pulling her in. But eventually she relaxed, talking to Teresa about dance, and she even volunteered to help my sister get the sides ready for dinner.
The moment Dad and I were alone, he turned to me in the recliner, smiling slightly. “She’s a good girl, Cameron.”
“I know.”
“I mean, she’s a really good girl.”
I glanced at him, brows raised. “I know.”
Dad watched me closely, that strange smile still playing over his lips. “Did she ever go out on a date with you?”
My lips twitched. “What do you think?”
“I think I know the answer.” Dad tipped his head back. “Are you two seeing each other?”
“No. I told you and Mom the truth. She’s not my girlfriend.” I paused, thinking about the conversation I’d overheard this morning between Mom and Avery. I would be bringing her home for Christmas and she would be my girlfriend by then. “Yet.”
Dad looked like he was about to laugh but didn’t. Opening his eyes, he turned his head and looked me dead-on. “Have you told her about what happened?”
Muscles in my stomach clenched. I knew what he was talking about, but didn’t answer.
Dad sighed. “Boy, you know how I feel about what happened. Was it necessarily the right thin
g to do? No. But if you hadn’t done it, I would have. But you need to tell her if you’re serious about her. Secrets are . . . well, sometimes they are necessary and sometimes they kill things before they have a chance to grow. You get what I’m saying?”
I found myself nodding, but as my gaze drifted to where Avery and my sister had disappeared from, I felt knots of unease twist in my stomach. I knew I wasn’t the only one with secrets.
I was ten seconds from grabbing my sister’s cell phone and throwing it across the room during Thanksgiving dinner. I dumped another mound of yams on my plate. “Who do you keep texting?”
Teresa smirked. “That’s none of your business.”
I arched a brow. “I’m your brother, it’s my business. Mom . . .” I paused, looking across the table. “You should tell your daughter it’s rude to text at the table.”
Mom sent me a dry look. “It’s not hurting anyone.”
Well, that was no help. I nudged Shortcake with my knee, and not for the first time. “It’s hurting my soul,” I murmured to her.
Avery rolled her eyes as she knocked my leg back.
“That’s sad.” Teresa dropped the phone in her lap. “So, Avery, how did you end up in West Virginia?”
She whipped her spoon through the mashed potatoes. “I wanted to go someplace different. My family is originally from Ohio, so West Virginia seemed like a good place to go.”
“I have to be honest, I would’ve picked New York or Florida or Virginia or Maryland or—” She looked down when her phone chirped and grabbed her cell.
My eyes narrowed as I knocked Avery’s knee. Curious as to who my sister could be chatting with, I acted like I was grabbing for turkey, but went for the phone instead.
“Hey!” Teresa shouted. “Give it back!”
Avoiding her grabby hands, I leaned over into Avery as my gaze flicked to the screen. Murphy? What the fuck? “Who’s Murphy?”
“It’s none of your business! God.” Teresa grabbed for the cell. “Give me back my phone.”
“I’ll give it back when you tell me who Murphy is? A boyfriend?”
The red cheeks were enough of an answer. Granted, I didn’t expect my sister to stay single forever, but she hadn’t been serious since that dickhead.
She slammed her back into her seat, folding her arms. “Mom.”
“Cam, give her back the phone,” she ordered, and when I didn’t budge, her smile tightened in the way that was rare for her. “We’ve met Murphy. He’s a really good boy.”
I was pretty sure that was what everyone had said about the dickhead.
“He’s really nice and I like him,” Teresa said quietly.
I snorted. “That’s not a ringing—”
“He’s not Jeremy,” Dad cut in. “Give her back the phone.”
Avery had been staring at her plate and when her hand landed on my upper thigh, I suddenly wasn’t thinking about Jeremy the Dickhead or Teresa’s phone.
Her hand was on my thigh, so close to where I wanted it to be, and in that moment, call me what you want, I didn’t give a fuck that it was Thanksgiving dinner. If she just slid her hand up a—
Avery snatched the cell phone from my hands.
Son of a bitch. “Hey, that was so not fair.”
She grinned at me as she stretched around me, handing the phone back to Teresa. “Sorry.”
“Thank you,” she said, smiling at Shortcake like she was the messiah of cell phones.
I shot her a very promising look before I twisted toward Teresa. “I want to meet this Murphy.”
My sister sighed but relented. “Okay. Let me know when.”
I had no idea what Shortcake thought about this and it wasn’t until after the conversation picked back up that I knew this whole situation had to be weird to her. I thought about what Dad said about secrets and there had been plenty of moments today to bring it up, but none of them had seemed right.
How do you explain to a girl that it took months to get out on a date that you beat a teenager into a coma? That wasn’t something you brought up over dinner.
But Dad had been right. I needed to tell her.
I had to.
When I left my bedroom that night to go to Avery’s, I had every intention of talking to her. I felt like I did when I used to play soccer, right before a game started and my stomach was located somewhere between my knees and ass.
Shutting my bedroom door behind me as quiet as a goddamn mouse on Christmas Eve, I jumped a good foot when I heard my name.
“Cam,” Teresa whispered, popping her head out her door several feet down the hall. “You got a second?”
“Sure.” I glanced at Shortcake’s door and then forced myself away from it. “What’s up?”
“I just want to tell you that Murphy’s not really my boyfriend.” Teresa folded her arms along her stomach. “He’s just a good friend and we’ve gone out on a few dates, but it isn’t like that.”
Relief flooded me. I wanted Teresa to wait until she was thirty and knew how to handle a loaded gun before she started dating again. “I’m glad to hear that.”
She nodded, letting out a little breath. “But if you still want to meet him, I can set that up.”
“I’d like that.” No reason not to put the fear of God into a “good friend.”
She rocked back on her sock-covered heels as she looked up at me. “I really like Avery, by the way. She’s so sweet and pretty. And smart, which makes me doubt why she’s here with you.” She flashed a quick grin. “I do like her.”
The change of subject warmed me. “She is. I’m glad you like her.”
“Well, she’s got my seal of approval.” Teresa stepped back into her bedroom, pausing. She looked like she wanted to say something and then shook her head. “Good night.”
I waited until I was almost 100 percent positive my little sister wouldn’t catch me sneaking into Shortcake’s room before I knocked on her door as quietly as I could and then opened the door halfway.
All thoughts of having a nighttime confession went out the window.
Resting on her elbows, Avery Morgansten was a fucking sight to behold. Her hair hung down her shoulders and her face tilted to the side. There was an impish quality to the look she sent me, part seductress, part naïve. I knew she had no idea how damn good she looked lying there, which made her so much hotter.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hi.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I wanted to say good night.” That so wasn’t the truth, but I couldn’t remember why I was seeking her out other than I wanted to see her.
She clenched the bedspread. “You already told me good night.”
“I did.” I slipped into the room, closing the door behind me. I was drawn to her like pencil to paper. “But I didn’t. Not in the way I want to say good night.”
Her soft inhale was my undoing, but as I made my way to the bed and sat beside her, I knew that I was always undone around her. And she had no freaking clue.
My gaze drifted over her upturned face, soaking in the slightly flushed cheeks and parted lips, down to the soft swells under the thin shirt she wore. “I’m glad you decided to come here.”
Her eyes were incredibly wide when they met mine. “I am, too.”
“Really?” I leaned over her, placing my hand on the other side of her hip. “Did you just admit that?”
The corners of her lips tilted up. “Yeah, I sort of did.”
My body followed that barely there smile, drawing me toward her until my upper body hovered over hers. “I wish I had my phone to record this moment.”
Her chest rose sharply as she dragged her gaze to mine. “I’ve . . . had a wonderful time.”
“So have I.” I took a breath I didn’t need. “So what do you think you’re going to do for winter break?”
She wetted her bottom lip and a wild bolt of need shot through me. “I don’t know. I thought about taking off for D.C. one of the days. I want to see the Smithsonian and the National M
all. I’ve never been.”
“Hmm, that could be fun.” My mind was coming up with many different things that could also be fun. “I could be your tour guide.”
The grin kicked up a notch. “That . . . that would be fun.”
“It would be.” Without knowing it, I’d moved close enough that my breath teased her flushed cheek. “Pick a date.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“January the second,” she said immediately, and for some reason, that blush of hers deepened. “Will you be available then?”
My lips curved up. “I’ll be available whenever you want me to be.” My heart thudded in my chest when her smile spread, becoming dazzling. I knew that I hadn’t come in here for this, but I was going to kiss her. There would be no stopping me. “Guess what, Avery?”
“What?”
“Remember how you just said you were having a good time?” I tilted my head so that my mouth slanted over hers. “It’s about to get better.”
“Is it?” she whispered.
My nose grazed hers. “Oh, yeah.”
“Are you not going to kiss me again?”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Long lashes specked with red swept down as my lips brushed over hers. It was such a gentle kiss, but it was like a clap of thunder in my veins. Dropping my weight onto my other arm, I splayed my fingers along her cheek as I pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips and then the other side.
Sliding my hand along the nape of her neck, I tasted the skin of her jaw, the flesh below her ear. A deep chuckle rumbled through me when she shivered. When I pressed my lips under her ear again, flicking my tongue, she made a sound that blew the thoughts out of my head.
“Good night, Avery.”
I kissed her, pressing my lips to hers, working at the seam of her mouth until she opened, allowing me in. The taste of her skin had sparked a fire deep inside me, but the feel of her warm mouth ignited a blazing fire. I couldn’t get enough of her lips, of her kisses or the soft, breathy sounds she was making.
I groaned as I slid my hand out from underneath her, guiding her onto her back. Her body immediately stiffened, and I knew I needed to tone it down. The last thing I wanted was to scare her.
