by JoAnn Durgin
Twisting around in his arms, Ava inched her hands around his neck. “Maybe I wanted to be caught.”
That comment stilled him. Oh, man, what he wouldn’t give to lock lips with her right now. With some girls, that comment—combined with the way she looked at him now—would be an obvious come-on. The great thing about Ava was that she wouldn’t know how to be purposely coy. She was one of the most sincere people he’d ever met wrapped in a gorgeous brunette. Ava also seemed to be able to read between the lines of his sometimes bungled words, and that alone made her fun to have around on a consistent basis. That idea was growing on him by the minute.
“Come with me.” Offering his hand, Sawyer guided her to the side of the building to give them some privacy.
“Is everything okay?” Her eyes were wide and luminous. “Look, I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have done that. Or said what I did, but—”
“You didn’t do anything you shouldn’t have, Ava. You know, I said something to Allie just last week about not wanting to be caught. For a while now, she’s been encouraging me to get out more and socialize.”
“Date.”
“Yes. That.”
“I’m getting the same thing from Heather.”
“As I said, I like Heather.” Sawyer massaged the fingers of one glove-covered hand over his forehead, wondering what he needed to say, not sure if he could trust himself not to throw his words out the window and kiss her. Her close proximity was driving him to extreme distraction.
“Ava, you know how we talked on the phone about whether or not we’re each ready to date again? How we wanted to start out slow and spend some time getting to know one another? I’ll make this quick because I know it’s cold.”
“Just tell me.” Ava moved her hand to his face, caressing his jawline with her fingers. Not quite the same thing when covered with a mitten, but he didn’t want her to fingers to freeze. Her gaze locked with his, and what he saw in her eyes spurred him on to lay his heart on the line.
Tugging off his left glove, Sawyer laced her fingers with his before resting their joined hands on his chest, above his heart. “I like you so much. You can’t possibly know how much.” His gaze slid down to her lips before he forced himself to take a step backward, their hands still clasped together. “Right now, I want to kiss you, but I know I shouldn’t. Not until we get to know each other better. Here’s the thing, Ava: I think we need to talk about Cole. Get everything out in the open and make sure we’re ready to move forward…together.”
“Wait a minute.” Ava lifted her chin, confusion clouding her expression. “Are you asking me to…?”
“I’m asking you to keep a special place in your heart open. For me. At least until we can have more time together to see if a relationship might work between us. Can you do that, or is that too much to ask?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, “but you’d best tuck me in that pedicab right now or I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” His mouth gaped after she tweaked his cheek and took off across the lightly snow-covered ground and hopped into the pedicab. The more time he spent with Ava, the more he recognized the spark of spontaneity. A spark he liked very much. When they’d first met, she’d seemed reserved and an air of sadness—like a fine mist—surrounded her. This Ava was more relaxed and natural. She was comfortable with him, and that thrilled his soul. This woman was important to him to the point where he wanted to be with her as often as possible. Get to know everything about her. Protect her. Love her.
Maybe Allie was right. Protecting others who’d been emotionally wounded was one of his missions in life. He’d fiercely guarded his own heart since Darcy’s death. Not that he hadn’t engaged in flirtations or accepted a few dinner invitations. He’d resisted a few outright offers from women, but none had enticed or tempted him. As a man who held closely to God’s word, he wanted God’s best for him. Just as he wanted God’s best for the woman he hoped to one day marry.
Lord, I’ve only known Ava for a few days. Am I crazy here?
“Sawyer, you’re going to become a human snowman if you don’t keep moving and get yourself over here!” Ava motioned for him to join her.
“Coming!” Breaking out of his musing, he sprinted across the parking lot.
She took the blanket from him and spread it across her lap. “This is becoming a very nice habit.”
“Yes, it is. Is the temperature okay?” As before, he’d run outside and turned on the heater before they’d left Carson’s. Reaching beneath the floorboard of the pedicab, Sawyer checked the setting.
“Perfect, thanks. You’re right, you know.”
“About what?”
“We need to discuss Cole. But we also need to discuss your past.” A small frown appeared on her brow.
Leaning close, Sawyer smoothed his hand over her brow and then planted a whisper-soft kiss.
His gut instinct had been right not to kiss her on the lips yet. Ava wasn’t ready for more. “What do you suggest we do about that?” His voice sounded husky.
“Take me to dinner on Friday night? Then we can go somewhere private to talk.”
He nodded with a small smile. “I like the way you think. Now let’s get you back to the dance studio.”
Chapter 10
~~♥~~
Sawyer waited while Ava unlocked her apartment door. Standing aside, her gentle smile granted him permission to enter her home. They’d enjoyed dinner at a local restaurant, quiet but low-key, near her apartment. Although it’d been fun, their upcoming heart-to-heart talk hung like a gray cloud between them as evidenced by their much more subdued conversation.
His glance encompassed the high ceilings and skylight as he stepped inside. “Wow. What a great place.” To the right, bookcases stuffed with books lined one wall. A horizontal mirror with a ballet barre graced the opposite wall. Straight ahead was a long window with what looked like a spectacular view of the city’s skyline. The furniture appeared to be an eclectic combination of antique and modern. Scattered throw rugs over hardwood floors, along with throw pillows on the sofa, loveseat and a couple of side chairs, added a colorful and welcoming touch. Small sculptures adorned a hall table and the coffee table, and a family portrait sat above the fireplace. Elegant yet lived-in and comfortable, it suited her well.
“Thanks.” Ava’s voice was barely above a whisper. “As you can probably tell, this building is an old converted warehouse. The high ceilings make it difficult to heat, but there are other features that compensate and make it worth the extra expense. Let me take your coat while you go take a look at the view.”
She joined him at the window a minute later. “This view is one of the reasons I knew I had to live here. It inspires me.”
As much as he enjoyed the view of the city, Sawyer allowed his gaze to travel over Ava. In her jeans and feminine off-white sweater, she stole his breath. Her hair was long and straight and she wore only a little makeup, revealing her natural beauty. Why didn’t most women understand the less is more theory? As much as he’d loved seeing her dressed to kill on their first dinner date, he liked this casual look more.
“I can see why. Plus, you have a great sense of style, based on the decor. Did you do it yourself?”
Her shy smile confirmed his assumption. “I could live closer to the dance studio but this is where I’m meant to be. At least for now.”
“It’s terrific.” Sawyer nodded to the ballet barre. “Especially for an artist.”
She tilted her head and gazed at him with a look of wonder. “Not many would consider a dancer an artist.”
“Dance is another way to express your emotions, right? Isn’t that what artists do?” He recalled her comment about teaching if one can’t dance. “Why don’t you dance professionally, Ava? If it’s too personal, I understand. You don’t need to tell me.”
“No, it’s a fair question. Simple story, really.” Splaying her hands on the window, she leaned against it for a moment, her gaze moving down to the quiet street below. “I danced from the t
ime I was five. For years, Momma took me to every audition in Indianapolis and Chicago, and I attended the Indianapolis School of Ballet. In some ways, she wanted me to fulfill her girlhood dream of being a dancer, but I grew to love it more than I expected. I was in Nutcracker productions for twelve years in a row, playing a lead role for the last eight. I also danced with the Indianapolis City Ballet for ten years.”
“You’re obviously very talented.”
“Thanks. Dancing became my driving passion, and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.” Crossing her arms over her middle, she walked into the living room while Sawyer remained by the window.
“When I was twenty-three, I was practicing for a new ballet one day with my dance partner, a man from Russia named André. Here at a studio in Indy. He lifted me the same as he’d done hundreds, maybe even thousands of times, but a pinched nerve made him stumble and he…well, André dropped me. I’m not sure which one of us was hurt more, but that was the sad end of my professional dancing career.”
Sawyer cringed. “Did you break your leg?”
“My ankle. For a dancer, that’s one of the worst injuries. It weakened my ankle, and it wasn’t the same. Would never be the same.”
Her tone held no animosity, only remorse, and her eyes glistened. Although Sawyer wanted to put his arms around her and hold her, assure her everything would be okay, he sensed it wasn’t the time. “So that’s when you started the dancing school?”
“Not right away. I was a hostess at an upscale restaurant, worked as a barista, you name it. I floundered for a couple of years. I have three years of college under my belt but no desire to go into the corporate world.”
Ava’s gaze met his. “One of the things I’ve learned is that sometimes losing something or someone we love isn’t a punishment for anything we think we might have done wrong. In some ways, I think it’s God’s way of showing us a new path. A path we might never have discovered otherwise. That journey to discovery can be filled with heartache but also incredible sweetness. What we take from that journey is how we grow and fall more in love with Christ. And,” she said, her gaze locking with his, “once we understand that kind of selfless love, we’re free to love others with complete freedom.”
“That’s a beautiful truth.” He angled his head toward the family portrait. “I take it that’s Poppy and Momma? And you?”
Ava nodded. “I was eight. Poppy’s cousin was visiting from Hawaii and he painted it.”
Sawyer walked over to stand in front of the fireplace, studying the portrait. “A very pretty little girl who turned into a beautiful woman.” Same almond shaped brown eyes, same gorgeous facial features, only younger.
“Thanks. My awkward phase was when I was thirteen—braces, bad hair, and I was embarrassed by the changes in my body. Dancing brought out the awkwardness but, at the same time, helped me to build my confidence and self-esteem.”
“Guys go through the awkward stuff a little later. I think I’m still going through it.” They shared a smile. “Do you talk with your mom much?” As soon as the question slipped out, Sawyer wished he could retract it. By the way she visibly flinched, he could tell he’d scratched a raw wound.
“Momma and I talk, but I was much closer to Poppy. The sad truth is, my mom is disappointed in me.”
He balked. “That’s not possible.”
“Oh, it is. Trust me. I think that once my dream died, hers did, too.”
Sawyer bit back a sharp retort. No matter what Ava’s mother had done or not done, it wasn’t his place to make judgments. “I’ll pray for that relationship to be restored.”
She smiled. “I appreciate that, Sawyer. It’s one of my daily prayers. Why don’t we move into the kitchen so we can talk some more? I’ll make some coffee.”
She refused his offer to help, so he dropped into a chair by the table. One of those state-of-the art coffee/espresso machines that made one cup at a time sat on the counter. “What flavor would you like? I have Irish Crème, French Vanilla, pretty much anything you’d like.”
Plain old regular coffee was fine with him. “Surprise me. Whatever you choose will be fine.”
A line creased between her brows. “Hmm. Do you mind if it’s strong, especially this late?”
He grinned. “The stronger the better.”
Ava returned his grin. “That’s what I thought. I have a Columbian blend that’s smooth but bold. Brace yourself.”
“Bring it on.”
They talked about nothing in particular while the cups of coffee were brewing. This is what he loved about Ava. They could talk about something of great personal importance or banter about trivial things. He never knew what she’d say next, and she could always back up her opinions with facts or reasoning that made sense even if he didn’t always agree. That would be boring, and being with Ava was anything but boring.
I’m falling in love with her, Lord. If he hadn’t known it before, Sawyer knew it now.
Ava carefully placed a steaming mug of black coffee on the kitchen table in front of him. “In case you’re wondering, this place is rent controlled and I’ve been here since I was eighteen.”
His surprise must have shown in his expression. “That’s awfully young to be on your own.”
“I invited three dancer friends—girls—to move in here with me so we could share the expenses. After the accident and I didn’t dance anymore, they left, one by one. They all had valid reasons, but they were probably excuses to get away from me.” Ava lowered her mug of coffee to the table and sat in the chair closest to him. “I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Sad, but true. I received a disability settlement from the dancer’s union that helped pay the bills. I met Cole when I worked at the coffee shop around the corner from his office building. Once we were serious and a couple, he offered to help pay my bills until I found my footing, so to speak”—her quick glance held the hint of a smile—“but I couldn’t allow him to do that. I told him it would make me feel like a kept woman. Which I wasn’t, by the way.”
In the middle of his first sip of coffee, Sawyer almost spit the hot liquid on the tabletop. Cupping his fist over his mouth, he coughed. What could he say to that? Finally, he managed to sputter a reply. “Not even a question in my mind.”
Ava tentatively sipped her coffee. Then she gently blew on it before taking another sip. “Cole didn’t take kindly to that statement either. I just wanted to make it perfectly clear. You never know these days, even with Christians. But enough about me. Tell me about your girlfriend. Starting with her name.”
“Darcy Ballantyne. She was a go-getter and had a great heart for people.”
“I’m sure that’s a given if she was in love with you.” Ava’s eyes held affection as she met his gaze over the rim of her red ceramic coffee mug. “What did she look like?”
Sawyer hadn’t expected that question but of course she’d be curious. “I still have a photo of her in my wallet. I should probably remove it now, anyway.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Ava said, her tone soft. “At least not on my account. Darcy was important to you. I only ask because I like to have a visual in my mind.”
Shifting and tugging out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, Sawyer flipped through the plastic sleeves, bypassing the photos of his family and stopping when Darcy’s blue-eyed gaze stared up at him. As he always did, he felt a pinch of remorse, but seeing her smiling face didn’t bother him the way it had as recently as a week or two ago. Removing the photo would take a while since it was stuck, so he put his wallet on the table with the photo facing her.
Ava studied it. “Darcy was very pretty. Do you normally prefer blue-eyed blondes?”
He hadn’t expected that question, either, and especially in such a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m not sure that’s a fair question given present company.” Why did she have to ask such a leading question? Being politically correct with a woman was a tricky pr
oposition. “I suppose I might have gravitated toward blondes in the past,” he said slowly, measuring his words, “but it’s not like I planned it or there was any forethought involved.”
“You can say yes, Sawyer. I won’t be offended.” Ava’s lips upturned, teasing him.
“Blonde or brunette, short or tall or whatever, I’m attracted to a woman who has a certain…vibrancy about her, I guess you could say.”
“What did Darcy do for a living?”
“Real estate agent. She was successful for being so young, and she had a promising future. Mainly commercial transactions although she handled occasional residential deals for friends.”
Sawyer paused to catch his breath. Talking about Darcy wasn’t as difficult as it used to be, but it could still overwhelm him at times. Ava pushed away from the table. After grabbing a glass from an upper cabinet, she filled it with ice water from the refrigerator door and brought it to him.
Giving her a grateful smile, he took the glass and drained most of the water in one long drink.
“Would you like more?”
“That’d be great. Thanks.” Sawyer tucked his wallet back in his pocket while she refilled the glass and then sat opposite him again, setting the glass on the table between them. “At the time, I was working as a data security systems analyst for a Fortune 500 firm. Button-down shirts, BMW, office downtown”—he waved one hand—“the whole yuppie corporate image.”
Propping one elbow on the table, Ava leaned her chin on one hand. “I have no idea what that means, but it sounds important. I’m impressed. Go on, please.”
Sawyer took a sip of the coffee before continuing. “Darcy knew I was satisfied in my career, but she sensed I wasn’t happy. Other than Allie, Darcy could always read me better than anyone else. She said, ‘Saw’—she was the only person on the planet I’ve ever allowed to call me that, so forget you ever heard it—‘meeting people and interacting with them is what makes you happiest. Sitting behind a computer all day isn’t what you need to be doing. You might be using your degrees, but you’re not fulfilling your potential.’”
