“There isn’t any guarantee.” Avery sat at the island. She had no idea what kind of expenses Grey had racked up, or how much income he’d lost, but given his current diet, she assumed they were significant. As for Matt, well, that was a nonstarter. “And PS—Matt’s help now doesn’t erase the past. I don’t hate him, but I don’t love him. Maybe I never really did.” She picked at the napkin, avoiding her brother’s contemplative stare.
“Yeah, I kinda thought that might be the case.” He drummed his hands on the counter, antsy.
“Really?” She sat back, surprised by his remark. “You never thought I loved him?”
“You weren’t all that devastated when he left. Your pride took a hit, for sure. Man, you were pissy. Stunned. A little dazed. But you never seemed heartbroken.” He reached across the island and tickled her arm. “Then again, you’ve never been a girl to fall apart over a broken heart.”
She felt herself glowering as she slapped his hand away. “If that’s true, it’s partly your fault!”
“My fault?” Andy pressed his hands against his chest as he laughed. “How so?”
“How many times did you warn me that guys were only interested in one thing? That I shouldn’t trust them? You made me so wary.”
“I was trying to protect you in high school, Ave. And believe me, I wasn’t wrong about horny teenaged boys.”
“Well, your honesty killed any romantic dreams I might have had.” Okay, so maybe she’d overstated a tad.
“You’re actually pouting. That’s pretty funny, sis.” Andy tilted his head, studying her. “If you want to blame me, go ahead. ’Cause it couldn’t possibly be anything you did or didn’t do. Not like overthinking every step of a relationship might kill the passion, right? Keeping a lid on your emotions wouldn’t make the other person feel you’re not all in, would it? Being like Dad and viewing compromise as a four-letter word might not make you the easiest partner, would it?”
Thankfully the doorbell stopped the discussion, because Avery didn’t have any quick comebacks to Andy’s remarks.
She tossed her wallet at him, pointing toward the door. Once he’d gone to pay for their dinner, she rubbed her temples.
Had Avery fought so hard against turning into her mother that she’d somehow ended up becoming just like her dad?
Four nights later, Avery parked around the corner from On The Rocks. Somehow she’d let Kelsey rope her into Ladies’ Night. One drink. One drink was all she’d promised.
Kelsey thrived on flirtatious banter with random men. In contrast, Avery had never been comfortable in that environment. She’d preferred something more personal and, well, elevated, for want of a better word.
She checked her hair and makeup—what little she wore—in the rearview mirror before walking into the bar.
The din of rambunctious chatter competed with the DJ’s tunes. She elbowed her way through the crowd toward the bar, where she expected to find Kelsey surrounded by at least three men.
Only two. Surprising.
“Hey!” Kelsey waved, flashing a gigantic smile. She’d dolled up tonight, sporting a snug pair of jeans and sparkly wrap top. Kelsey had quite the bombshell figure. Sexy and feminine, if somewhat curvier than contemporary ideals. The two men standing beside her clearly admired her assets. “Saved you a seat. Meet Dylan and George, from Montrose.”
“Montrose? What brings you two all the way down here midweek?” Avery slid into the barstool next to Kelsey, feigning interest.
“Working construction on some big shot’s vacation home just outside of town.”
“Which one?” Kelsey asked. “Might be one of my former clients.”
“Mitchell Westwood. Ten-acre ranch property.”
Kelsey’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I sold Mitchell that old ranch house. His wife is sweet. So they’re starting the remodel?”
“Tear down and new construction. Six-thousand-foot post-and-beam project.”
“Wow, should be stunning.” Kelsey leaned closer to Dylan, or George—whoever.
Avery paid for her half-price martini and surveyed the scene, paying little attention to her friend and the two men whose attention remained rather glued to Kelsey’s chest. As she scanned the room, she happened to catch sight of a very tall, dark-haired man in a cowboy hat strutting through the door. Trip.
Her pulse kicked up a notch when she noticed Grey just behind him, looking almost as out of place as she felt. His intentionally disheveled, wavy hair hung sexily across his brows, partially obscuring his eyes. His lips were the only soft thing amid the sharp, masculine lines of his face. Even when set in a firm line, their fullness drew her eye.
The last time she’d seen him, she’d run away. Each time he’d tried to get close and open up to her she’d basically shut him down. Part of her wanted to dive-bomb into his arms. But the bigger part cowered, because she feared both failure and success. Rejection would hurt, no doubt. But she’d bounced back from rejection before and could do it again.
What scared her more was how she’d not only bent ethical rules for Grey, but now her affection for him also had her dismissing major family conflicts, and being dishonest with one of her dearest friends. Once again, she’d begun to lose her identity for a man. How’d she let herself go there again?
She turned toward the bar and gulped her martini, her heart beating a little too fast. Straightening her shoulders, she tamped down the butterflies in her gut and donned a smile for Kelsey and the guys, who were still discussing Mitchell Westwood’s project.
As soon as he entered the bar, Grey knew he’d made an error. Instinctively, he lowered one hand to shield his bad knee from getting kicked or shoved by the throng. Fortunately, Trip’s size and appearance tended to part the crowd, so Grey stayed in his friend’s wake and made it to the bar without injury.
Trip ordered a pair of IPAs and then faced the crowd with his elbows resting on the bar. “Not bad. Not bad at all for a Wednesday night.”
Grey grunted, knowing Trip’s laser-like eyesight would quickly identify his prey. “Ah, and the entertainment factor just jumped by about twenty degrees.”
“Why?” Grey craned his neck to try to see what Trip did, but he couldn’t compete with the five-inch advantage.
“Boomerang’s down there at the end of the bar with two guys and your Avery.” He nodded to his left. “Shall we go have a little fun?”
Grey shook his head, unwilling to interrupt Avery and Kelsey while they were with other men. “You’ve got to stop calling her Boomerang.”
“You named her.”
“I know. But it was rude, and I don’t want anyone to hear us use that name again.”
“Naturally.” Trip stroked an imaginary beard and tossed him a sideways glance. “So are you gonna go after the girl, or are you gonna be a pussy?”
When Grey refused to respond to the insult, Trip began walking away.
Grey grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”
“I’m not a pussy.” He shrugged free of Grey’s grip. “Stay here if you want.”
“Hey.” Grey reached out again, but Trip twisted away and cut through the crowd with Grey on his heels. “Dammit.”
“Well, look at what I found, Grey. The prettiest girls in town.” Trip smiled, ignoring the men who looked pissed about the intrusion, and turned to Grey. “I told you it would be worth coming out tonight.”
“Trip.” Kelsey’s smile faded as she turned and coolly glanced at Grey. She then made a big show of looking all around him. “So, Grey, is your mystery woman here tonight?”