by L. A. Fiore
His truck pulled up next to my car and Rafe climbed out. He saw Loki immediately.
“Hey, buddy. What are you doing?”
Loki barked, which I thought was adorable that he was trying to tell his daddy that the crazy lady he rented his carriage house to was pretending to be a squirrel. Even frozen in terror, I did enjoy the way Rafe’s body moved as he came to stand next to Loki. And then that head tilted back and those green eyes landed on me. The sexiest smile spread over his face as he pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and rolled back on his heels.
“Hey, Avery. Let me guess. Your interpretation of a bird?”
He was referring to my flippant answer of imitating a spider the day of the fence incident. Of course he’d remember that. “Cute. If you must know, Loki and I were playing Frisbee and he didn’t apply himself to lunge for the Frisbee and so I had to retrieve it.”
“Playing Frisbee at dusk is probably not the best time to be playing.”
“It wasn’t dusk when we started.”
The smile stripped from his face, all humor fled. “How long have you been up there?”
“Well, if I used the sun as a guide, a long freaking time.”
“Jesus Christ. I’ll get the ladder.”
A ladder wasn’t going to help since my muscles had atrophied. I thought it took longer for muscles to disintegrate due to lack of use. Who knew?
Rafe climbed up to meet me halfway, but I couldn’t move.
“Avery, you need to come to me.”
“I can’t.”
“Baby, I can’t reach you and climbing up there and getting us both caught in the tree isn’t an option.”
“It would take twelve years for us to decompose, we’d have to die first and I heard that can take up to fifty days.”
“I’m not planning on decomposing anytime soon and I don’t want your body decomposing in my tree either.”
“Why not?” I was actually pissed that he didn’t want me to decompose in his tree. What was wrong with my body that it wasn’t good enough to decompose in his tree? I was working myself up into a good rant; he defused my craziness when he added, “And not see your booty dance again, no way.”
Oh. Oh…“Are you objectifying me?”
“Are you seriously starting a fight because I’m trying to rescue you from a tree? I can call 911 and let the firemen do this, which will likely end up on the news so everyone will know the new pastry chef at Clover thinks she’s a cat.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“If you don’t move your ass down here, you aren’t leaving me much of a choice.”
“You can be quite bossy, do you know that?”
“And you have a tendency of putting yourself in ridiculous situations.”
It was instinct to counter his comment, the haggler in me, but he was right. I did get into more than my share of ridiculous situations. And I knew exactly when I started engaging in foolish stunts; it was right around the time my dad forgot he had kids. Being silly surely would gain his attention and by extension his affection. It didn’t, but now recklessness was kind of programmed into my DNA. Damn Dad.
“You’re right. I’ve been up here a while, my limbs are numb, so if I start to fall, get out of the way. No reason for both of us to die on this fine evening.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“I’m dying, either from the fall or humiliation, there’s just no stopping that.”
“I won’t let you fall.”
And somehow I knew he really wouldn’t. Focusing on moving one leg at a time, it took a few starts to actually get my legs to listen to the command from my brain, but if I kept Rafe in sight, I didn’t freeze up in fear. As soon as I was close enough, he wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing me up against him.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, this humiliation will only last a couple years.”
“I think it’s very you, retrieving Loki’s toy.”
“What does that mean?”
“Fucking sweet.”
I wanted so badly to ask what was up with Melody. But I didn’t want to ruin the moment, particularly since I’d gone boneless hearing him call me baby. In an attempt to hide my real thoughts, I tried for stern when I said, “He should have caught it.”
“You should have waited.”
“I know.”
“Let’s climb down and I’ll pour you a drink.”
“I like this idea.”
I waited until he reached the ground before I followed after. As soon as my feet hit solid ground, I was tempted to drop to my knees. Loki appeared, rubbing his head against my leg.
“It wasn’t your fault, Loki.”
Rafe put the ladder away before returning to me and reaching for my hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, thanks for saving me again.”
He chuckled as he started pulling me toward his house. “Even if I did keep you waiting?”
“You got me out of the tree, so I’ll forgive you.”
He held the door open for me, our bodies brushed as I passed him. His harsh exhale could have come from me, the sensation where our bodies touched tingled in a very, very pleasant way.
His voice pitched deeper, had an edge when he said, “I’ll work on my timing.”
“And I’ll keep my feet on the ground.”
Halfway to work, I realized I had forgotten the bowls I had ordered specifically for the spun sugar domes for tonight’s pistachio meringues. I debated about turning around, since I could probably find something similar at the restaurant, but I wasn’t that far from home and they really were the perfect size.
More than once I replayed the encounter with Rafe from last night. I should have been mortified—he was right I did have a penchant for putting myself in ridiculous situations—but I wasn’t. It was a really good memory, particularly recalling the electricity that zapped the air when our bodies brushed. That wasn’t even the part I liked the most when I was around him—the chemistry that singed the air. I just liked him. Being around him was easy; talking was comfortable. I wanted to ask him about Melody, but how exactly did I bring up that subject?
Turning onto Rafe’s street, I had made good time. I was lucky my start time was two because had I been caught up in the morning traffic, it wouldn’t have been worth coming back. And that would have been a shame because the bowl proportion to the meringue was perfect. Reaching Rafe’s house, I just drove right past it because Melody stood at the gates. Speaking of the devil. My heart dropped seeing her. I had convinced myself they weren’t together any more, particularly since Rafe’s behavior toward me had changed, grown more intense, but for her to be here, maybe I was wrong on that account. Either way, I had absolutely no interest in talking with her. Turning around, I parked across the street and waited for her to leave. Rafe wasn’t home; he had left before me in search of the perfect exotic wood for a new project. His words.
Five minutes past and she still stood there. The drive was easy enough to see, Rafe’s truck wasn’t there. Why the hell was she lingering? If I thought that was odd, her next move was bizarre. She grabbed the gates and started pulling on them. Clearly frustrated that she couldn’t get them open. Rafe had changed the codes. Had he not told her? As his girlfriend you’d think she’d be the first person he’d give the codes to. Maybe he was single. I couldn’t help the excitement that fluttered in my stomach at that thought or the knot that quickly followed. If he were single, why wouldn’t he have shared that with me unless I was reading more into the dynamic between us?
Pushing aside that unpleasant thought, I grew impatient. If Melody loitered much longer, I’d have to forget about the bowls because there was no way I was engaging that woman in conversation. A minute or so passed before she turned and headed down the street. It was only then that I noticed her convertible parked two houses down. If she’d been visiting Rafe, why wouldn’t she have pulled her car up to the gates and waited for him to open them?
She d
rove right by my car. I was tempted to duck, but it was highly unlikely she’d recognize my car or me. As she passed, I saw that she was on the phone. She looked pissed. And even having no idea what I’d just witnessed, I derived a sick kind of pleasure seeing her not getting whatever it was she wanted.
A glance at my watch and I forgot all about Melody. I had to get those bowls and get to work.
Pulling into my driveway, it was late, so I was surprised to see Avery outside. She had a blanket on the ground, one wrapped around her shoulders and she was looking up at the stars. Loki was next to her, a blanket over him, and based on how still he was I knew he was sleeping, likely snoring. Every time I thought about Avery up in that tree, I wanted to laugh out loud almost as much as I wanted to holler some sense into her. Dad was right about the gray hair, she wasn’t mine and I felt the stress of keeping her safe…from herself. More startling, the fact that she wasn’t mine made me feel almost homicidal. And she had said I wouldn’t even know she was here.
Climbing from my truck, I walked over to join her. Seeing me, she called a greeting.
“What are you still doing outside? It’s freezing.”
“The sky is so clear, look at those stars. Mom called, told me to check out the sky. She does that sometimes, reminds me to look up. I tend to forget.”
Where was her mom? Why hadn’t she helped Avery move in or come for a visit? Telling her to look up was all well and good, but her daughter just made a major move and none of her family had been there except her sister. And the woman was a freaking brain surgeon and still she carved out time to show her support. Avery clearly had no trouble reading my thoughts.
“You’re wondering where she is.”
“Yeah, but let’s move this inside. You’re making me cold. I’ll make you hot chocolate.”
A slight smile before she asked, “With marshmallows?”
She asked that much in the way I’d heard Faith and Emily ask it. “Yeah, with marshmallows.”
She tilted her head, “You have marshmallows?”
“My friends’ kids love them.”
“So it’s not because you’re harboring a secret marshmallow fetish?”
Fucking adorable. “No.”
She stood, which had Loki stirring from his slumber. We both reached for the blanket draped on him, our fingers brushing, and damn it all but just that light brush had my balls tightening. Her scent, she smelled like cocoa. Her big green eyes held no secrets; what she was thinking was right there for me to see. She felt it too. I wanted her pressed against me, wanted to bury my face in her neck and just breathe her in. Instead, I put a collar on my raging lust and helped her collect her things before leading her inside.
Once we settled in the kitchen Avery filled me in on her absent family. “Mom is driving cross country in an RV with Harold, my stepdad. She was really upset when she learned about the interview and subsequent move, but they’ve been planning their trip for almost a year.”
Filling the kettle with water, I set it on the stove. Couldn’t help but feel relief that her mom had a reason for her absence especially after the small glimpse Avery had given me about her dad. And the fact that I cared was just another reason why I knew the battle I was fighting to keep my distance wasn’t one I’d be winning—not when everything in me wanted to close the distance between us and kiss her. When I realized my focus was on her lips, I jerked my gaze back to her face. She studied me in much the way I did her. And since my blood was now rapidly moving south, I grabbed at any subject for a distraction. “Is your mom an outdoorsmen?”
Avery laughed, the sound so carefree and natural I couldn’t help but grin in response even as my cock grew hard. “Mom, no. She’s a room service kind of woman. Not necessarily pricey but when she’s on vacation she doesn’t want to have to cook or clean. It’s been a dream of Harold’s for a long time though and since Mom loves him, she didn’t even hesitate. I love that she found Harold, they’re so perfect for each other.”
“Sounds like it. And your dad, where’s he?”
Her easy smiled dimmed, her eyes losing some of their sparkle. And even knowing she didn’t have a great relationship with her dad—the man was clearly a moron—seeing just how hard Avery took her father’s neglect caused a surge of protectiveness in me. I wanted to hunt her dad down and beat some sense into him.
“Like I’ve mentioned, my dad is a selfish man. We’ve never been close despite my efforts to change that. You have a closer relationship with your father and he’s been away for so long. He and Mom were like oil and water. I don’t understand why he remarried; he really doesn’t seem to need anyone. But he did, to a woman who is only six years older than me. She’s vile, but she doesn’t demand conversation or companionship, as long as she gets her hair and nails done and has a credit card she’s happy.”
So not just a disinterested father, but a bitch of stepmom too. Before I could offer a response, she asked, “What was it like for you with your dad being away? I mean if that’s okay to ask.”
“At first, it was hard. I was nine and had lost my dad and my home. When I entered my teenage years I was the typical, angry at the world, kid. But my dad and I, even having so many years that separated us, somehow we’re managing to find our way back.”
“He loves you. You can see that very clearly.”
I hadn’t expected her to say that, was even more surprised at how much I wanted that observation to be true. When the kettle whistled, I poured the hot water in the mug and stirred the hot chocolate. “How many marshmallows?”
“I’ll tell you when.”
And she did when there were at least twenty little marshmallows in her mug. “You weren’t kidding about liking marshmallows.”
She flashed me a smile. “What can I say? I like sweet things.”
She wasn’t the only one.
Fall was in the air, it was my day off and I had pumpkin treats baking. While I waited, I decided to plant up a few pots I had picked up at the local garden center. The mums, asters and millets looked so festive. I even had cornstalks, hay and pumpkins arranged at the front door of the carriage house. Loki sat at my feet, as I arranged and rearranged the pumpkins and plants to get the exact look I was going for.
Rafe had been gone most of the day, returning about an hour ago. He called a greeting to Loki and me before he changed into sweats and a tee and headed into the barn. Seeing him that day in the barn, working the bag without a shirt. If only you could print mental images I’d have that one papering the bedroom walls. I should have told him last night about Melody’s visit. It had been on the tip of my tongue, but I hadn’t wanted to bring her into the moment because talk about a buzz-kill. I’d have to tell him, he needed to know she’d been here and I needed to know if they were still together, if all the flirty banter between Rafe and me was just that and not a prelude to something so much better.
“He’s very sexy, your daddy. You might not see it being male and all but truly, he’s enough to turn a straight man gay. I could look at him all day.”
Loki’s head lifted, his black eyes regarded me.
“I realize I’m objectifying your daddy, but when a man looks like him, he has to expect it.”
Loki shifted; I reached over and rubbed his head. “You have no idea what I’m saying.”
“Probably not.”
And that didn’t come from Loki. The head drop was instinctual; Rafe was behind me. It was like the man had a super power of always being present when I was at my silliest. Studying the flowerpot, I wondered if I could get my head in there too.
It took effort, great effort, to turn my head; my eyes landed first on Rafe’s feet, up his legs in those sweats that had places on my body aching in ways they never had, up his stomach to the tee that clung to his heated skin leaving nothing to the imagination. And unlike my moment, when I first arrived, of cotton sticking to my body, he looked edible. Reaching his face, I swear I almost lost consciousness because the man was smiling at me in the naughtiest way. If
there was any question as to whether he heard what it was Loki and I were discussing, there wasn’t any more. Those made of weaker stock would crumble right now, but not me. I rallied and tried for my best clueless expression—one that looked a lot like Nat’s usual expression.
“Hey, Rafe.”
“Avery. Smells good.”
So do you. I could see the sweat beading on his neck and how I wanted my tongue there. I was getting turned on, so I tried to pull myself together. I’d wait until later to have my dirty thoughts about my landlord when I could actually do something about the aches he stirred. And then I realized what I was thinking while he stood over me as I contemplated it. Could he read minds? From the way his eyes turned darker, I had a terrible suspicion he could.
Realizing I hadn’t answered him and not wanting him to pry into my brain to read any more of my wicked thoughts, I practically shouted at him. “Pumpkin scones. That’s what you’re smelling.”
“Do you need me to taste them?”
My eyes widened and I think my jaw dropped because as innocent as his comment seemed, there was definitely a sexual innuendo in the way that he said it. And though I was out of my depths, it didn’t stop me from saying, “If you think you can handle something as sinful as my pumpkin scones.”
Humor marched across his face. “Don’t know, but I sure as hell would like to give them a try.”
And in my head my scones actually meant my breasts, and just thinking about that mouth on me, I wanted to weep.
