Chapter Six #3
She almost laughed at the panic on his face before she realized he’d never said her name when he introduced her to his friends. He’d just rattled off theirs.
Oh. My. God. I’ve become a What’s Her Name.
Heat rising in her cheeks, she wanted to let him feel the brunt of his shame for forgetting her name, to suffer the same embarrassment she did. But he’d helped her twice tonight, so she kind of owed him.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t punish him just a little.
She smiled at his mother. “I’m not sure if you know this, but your son is terrible with names. To be fair, we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks, and he doesn’t call me by my name.”
“What does he call you, dear?” his mother asked.
“Legs.” She rolled her eyes and tsked, enjoying Avery’s groan and the barks of laughter coming from his brothers. “It’s horrible, I know, but it’s sort of stuck. You can call me Jo.”
Without batting an eye, his mother asked, “Is that short for JoAnn or Josephine?”
“No, ma’am. Just Jo. Jo Hayes.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Jo. Please, call me Connie.”
“What do you call him?” Marcus asked, one brow cocked, reminding her of Avery when he was causing mischief. In fact, it was uncanny how much he and his brothers looked alike.
Avery shot her a warning glare and shook his head, though he had no idea what she planned to say. She hoped he was running through all the names she’d called him since they met. There were quite a few and most of them colorful.
Jo shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, but we do.” Spencer’s tone was insistent, saying he loved watching his baby brother squirm.
“Let’s just say, it starts with an A because he can be a real pain in the backside.”
“He can be a little shit sometimes, but yes, asshole works just fine,” his mother said with a laugh that caught on.
“Okay, okay,” Avery grumbled, “if you’ve finished roasting me, I could use a drink.”
He took a step away, and Jo followed.
“You’re leaving me alone already?” she whisper-shouted. “Man, you don’t waste time.”
“Ha, ha, you should take up comedy. I’ll be right back. Can I get you something?”
“Oh.” She blushed, feeling a smidge guilty for judging him. “White wine please.”
“Besides, I can’t duck out until after I’ve made the presentation.” With a wink, he sauntered away, loose hipped and so stinking full of himself.
She narrowed her eyes, throwing invisible daggers at his back. Asshole.
Aware of the impending inquisition about to take place, she blew out a breath and turned to face her interrogators.
The lights dimmed, saving her as everyone hurried to find a seat.
She took the empty chair next to Melody.
There was no time for chit-chat as salads were served and Nick took the podium, making introductions of those seated at the head table.
The keynote speaker had begun, and she’d eaten a third of the wilted field greens by the time Avery ducked into his seat with their drinks.
“Sorry, the line was long,” he murmured near her ear, making her shiver.
He set her glass on the table and sank into his chair, draping one arm over the back of hers and balancing a glass of what looked like whiskey on his thigh.
He didn’t touch her, but his warmth radiated into her like a furnace.
The man was too hot for his own good. And hers.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, struggling to remove the tight-fitting bolero in such close quarters.
Strong fingers drifted along the back of her neck then down her arms as he helped untangle her elbows. “Too nervous.”
Another shiver rolled through her, and her nipples peaked. The A/C must have kicked on. At least, that was the lie she told herself.
Buzz.
The scowl Avery shot her and looks from his family had her fumbling in her skirt for her phone. Fuck, she thought she’d turned off her notifications.
She smiled an apology as she shut down her phone. “Sorry.”
Beside her, Avery’s knee bounced. She didn’t like public speaking either, but he always seemed so sure of himself.
The chicken was actually tender and well-seasoned. Kudos to the chef. Dessert was a disappointment, though, a factory-grade cheesecake with cherry syrup drizzled over it. She pushed her plate away.
The donor presentations were introduced, speeches were made, and pictures were taken. Avery fidgeted as he waited to be called up. His stomach growled, and Jo almost felt sorry for him and guilty for eating.
“I’m a little partial to our next donor,” Nick said, and Avery sat up. “A lot of you know him as the easy-going, fun-loving, and sometimes trouble-finding Preston brother, but he’s also hard-working and kind-hearted.”
Avery groaned and rose to make his way to the podium.
“He’s here to present LfL with a donation,” Nick continued, “not just from the company, but from it’s employees. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Avery Preston.”
Avery jogged up the steps, greeting Nick with a loose hug that was more a shoulder bump before taking his place at the microphone.
“Good evening,” he said, his smile disarming, so different from the one he used to slay hearts and melt panties. “I’ll keep this brief since my brother got a little longwinded.”
The crowd laughed, and Avery’s smile faded. “Preston Enterprises has been a supporter of Libraries for Literacy for over a decade. During that time, we’ve seen thousands of children gifted with the ability to read, but we still have a lot of work to do. I have a lot of work to do.
“Imagine waking up one morning. You pick up your phone to check the news, the stock market, or social media, but everything is written in a foreign language. You go to work, and every email, contract, and financial report is the same. Your parents, your children, your grandchildren are sending you texts, but it’s all gibberish.
That’s what seventy percent of the ten-year-olds in low- and middle-income countries face every day with their inability to read.
In the U.S., one in five adults. I ran the numbers folks, and they aren’t just staggering.
They’re criminal, and we can’t just assume the problem will right itself. ”
He shook his head and scanned the crowd.
“After everything we’ve heard tonight”—he raised a hand to indicate the speakers to his right and then to his left—“I hope you’ll each consider going beyond the standard company donation and personally dig deep, either by donating your time or from your wallet, to help eradicate the epidemic holding back those who might one day change the world. ”
He took a breath and chuckled. “I guess you could say I’m more like my brother than I thought.
” Another round of laughter rose from the crowd.
When it died, he pulled a check from the inside breast pocket of his tux.
“On behalf of Preston Enterprises and the employees who make it successful, it’s my pleasure to present a donation to this year’s LfL campaign for five million dollars. ”
Applause from the audience filled the room, and Jo sat back, awestruck.
Not just because of the staggering amount of money.
Or that, to Avery, five million was probably a drop in the bucket.
Hell, his car cost at least a half mil or more.
No, it was the serious side of the man who spoke so passionately about something he believed in that held her spellbound.
If she’d thought Avery Preston was dangerous before, this other side of him, with a passion to help others was catastrophic. If it wasn’t all for show.
He’s helping you, isn’t he?
Nick wrapped up the program. The band began to play, couples filled the small dance floor, and someone announced a door prize winner as Avery sank into his chair, downed his drink, and tugged at his tie.
“Glad that’s over with,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees.
“You were magnificent,” slipped out of her mouth in a hushed whisper.
He swung his head to look at her, his dark gaze intense as he studied her face, searching for…what? Evidence of sarcasm? Then a cocky smile smoothed his features and tugged at her tummy. “That’s what they all say.”
She rolled her eyes. “And just like that, ya killed it.”
He winked. “I have an image to uphold.”
But it wasn’t just an image. That speech and the power behind it might have proven he could think and feel deeply, but he was still truly and utterly just as naughty.
The lights came up, and people began to mingle.
Spencer rounded the table, the rest of the Preston men behind him. “Good job, Av.”
“I’m proud of you, son.” His dad patted him on the back. “I need to talk to Rutherford.”
Marcus handed him a limp twenty-dollar bill. “Don’t get a big head.”
Avery nodded as they walked away, his knee bouncing, and his gaze batting around the room, like a cornered animal looking for escape. She knew that feeling. She’d felt it earlier, and he’d rescued her from it. She owed him the same.
His focus landed on a blonde two tables over, then pivoted to a brunette by the bar.
He was flirting with both, practically undressing them with his eyes right there at the table.
The brunette batted her eyelashes and arched her back.
Her boobs grew two inches. His nostrils flared. He’d made his choice.
It was like watching a documentary about animal mating rituals on the nature channel. Any second now, she expected the big bad wolf to salivate and let loose a howl.
Ugh. Is that really all it took, though? Showing a bit of cleavage and shaking a few tail feathers? The more important question was, did the blonde he’d dismissed feel the same sting of rejection Jo did? Best not to dwell on that one.
Suppressing a sigh, she leaned close and whispered, “Little pig, little pig, let me in.”
He shivered and turned a sexy grin on her. “Is that an invitation?”
“Ew, no.” Scrunching her nose, she angled her head at the brunette. “That’s me saying go get ’em, tiger, er, wolfie.”
He glanced at his mom, then back at Jo.