Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Avery
The thing no one tells you about restoring an old building was the amount of painting involved. So. Much. Paint.
At this point, it felt like the paintbrush was an extension of my arm.
Not that I minded it too much. Not really.
It was one of the few tasks I could do without Reid’s help that made me feel useful. Especially when so much was still out of my control.
Like actually being the owner of the inn officially.
I tried not to think about that one, very crucial detail too much. Especially because there was nothing I could do about it except wait for my lawyer to process the paperwork and hope like hell that my cousin, Jacob, wouldn’t screw it all up for me.
Before we could even arrange the funeral, the calls and text messages had begun. And once the will was read, he’d doubled his efforts to make it known that I wasn’t the only one interested in owning the inn. The fact that our grandparents had left it to me didn’t seem to matter to him.
He’d always resented the closer relationship I had with my grandparents growing up. But that wasn’t my fault. If anything, it was his.
As the daughter of a single mom, I’d started spending my summers with them in Trickle Creek when I was pretty young. My aunt and uncle sent him to stay, too. Some of the time. But when we each got old enough to choose, Jacob wasn’t interested in visiting a small town and chose instead to go to summer camp or stay in the city with his friends. Of course, my relationship with them grew stronger.
The only time Jacob ever cared about it was on the very few occasions we were all together at a family function. It was only then that his jealousy shone through. And that’s all it was. Jealousy.
His parents doted on him to such an extreme that he couldn’t stand not being the favorite or the center of attention at all times.
No, this wasn’t about him wanting the inn. It was about the fact that I had it instead of him.
Not that it mattered. Either way, it was a giant pain in my ass because nothing could proceed as long as he was contesting the will. Which, as of yesterday, was officially what was happening.
William assured me that Jacob didn’t have a chance at succeeding considering I was now legally married. Still, I couldn’t help but worry that he was going to do everything he could to make things difficult for me.
I dipped the brush in the can a little too aggressively, sloshing paint over the side. “Dammit.”
“Looks like you could use a break.”
I jumped at Reid’s voice and almost kicked over the can of paint entirely.
“Sorry,” he said with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He crossed the floor and took the brush from my hand. “Why don’t you call it quits for the night?”
Given all the mistakes I was making, it didn’t seem like a bad idea. “I think that’s probably a good choice.”
I let Reid put the lid back on the can of paint while I cleaned up my spill. “I thought you were out for the night,” I said when we were done. The moment the words were out of my mouth, I wanted them back. It wasn’t my job to keep tabs on him. He was free to come and go as he pleased. “I mean, I don’t care. It’s…fine. You can…”
His eyes flashed and his lips curled up into a small grin, clearly amused at my discomfort. “I went to unload some equipment in my new shop,” he offered. “It didn’t take as long as I thought. Besides, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
My stomach dropped.
“Talk?”
Nothing good ever started with those words. If Reid wanted to pull out of our agreement now, I wouldn’t have any chance at keeping the inn. He was my only hope now.
“Oh, I…sure.” I tried to smooth my hair back in an effort to look even a little bit put together and in control of the situation.
He shifted his weight, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor before once more meeting mine. The hesitation on his face made my pulse race, and I had to force myself to take a deep breath.
“Avery.” He reached for me. His touch both calmed me and sent my heart on a wild new rhythm. “It’s nothing bad.” His tone was softer this time. “I promise.”
But there was no way I believed him. Not when every nerve in my body was screaming that this was all about to blow up. I swallowed hard and forced my well-practiced smile onto my face. “Okay. Why don’t we go sit outside?”
He nodded. “I’ll meet you out there.”
It was a warm night; spring was quickly turning into summer. Alone on the porch, I took the opportunity to take a few deep breaths and calm myself down. Even if Reid did want out of our agreement, it would be fine. Everything would work out. I knew it would.
It had to.
Reid
With two glasses in hand, I stepped out on the porch, expecting to find Avery waiting but she was nowhere to be found. I glanced at the heap of destroyed wood in the corner that used to be her beloved swing. It wasn’t high on the priority list, but it would have been a nice place to sit and have this conversation.
At the very least, I could haul away the mess.
But it was a problem for later. I had more important things to discuss with my wife. If I could find her.
I moved to the porch rail and scanned the yard, finally spotting her on the grass, standing next to the old wooden sign.
She had her back to me as I approached. Her fingers grazed over the old, weathered wood. The paint had most peeled off, but the carved words were still easy to read.
Not wanting to startle her, I cleared my throat. “Figured you could use this.” I held out a glass when she turned.
“Thanks.” She accepted the glass with a small smile and turned back to the sign. “I guess we should put this on the list, too.”
I nodded and took a sip. “Are you keeping the name?”
Avery exhaled slowly before turning to face me. “I think so. But there’s part of me that wants to make it my own.”
I nodded. That made sense.
“But…” She tilted her head toward the backyard. “See those trees?”
I followed her gaze past the house where two tall larch trees stood side by side, their branches swaying a little in the evening breeze. They were full, their soft needles green for the summer. But in the fall, they’d turn a brilliant bright yellow before dropping their needles for the winter. The only coniferous trees to do so, larches were spectacularly beautiful. They’d be a perfect backdrop for the freshly painted inn in a few months.
“They’re beautiful trees,” I said honestly.
“My grandparents planted them when they opened the inn.” Her voice was soft. “They told me the trees were a symbol of strength and togetherness but also change because every year the larches would drop their needles and prepare for a new season.”
“It sounds like your grandparents put a lot of heart into this place.”
“They did.” She took a sip of wine, watching the trees with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “They built something they thought would last. I think that’s why I’m struggling with all this. The renovations, the name…” She waved a hand and let it drop to her side. “I just want to get it right, you know?”
“You will.” I studied her for a moment. She was determined—that much I already knew—but there was something else behind her words. Passion. Love.
Any lingering concerns I might have had that Avery was going to come into town and change this place, the way so many other city folk did, vanished in that moment. She cared. Deeply.
“Do you really think so?” She turned to me, her eyes searching mine.
“I do.” I meant it. “It’s easy to see how you feel about this place. And no matter what you decide, it’s still yours, and your grandparents will be proud. It doesn’t have to look exactly the way they left it. But it has to mean something to you.”
“Wow.” Avery breathed out a small laugh. “That almost sounded wise.”
“Don’t get used to it.” I shook my head and took a sip of my wine.
She smiled again and turned back to the trees.
I let the silence stretch between us, the weight of the history of the place settling between us. For a moment, I could picture the trees, now tall and strong, the way her grandparents would have seen them when they planted them. Small, full of promise and hope.
After a moment, Avery broke the silence. “Sorry. Didn’t you say you had something you needed to talk to me about?”
Avery
I’d been so distracted by my own thoughts, that I’d almost forgotten that Reid wanted to talk to me about something.
Almost.
Together, we made our way back to the porch.
“Okay,” I said when we finally sat down on the steps. “Lay it on me. What do you need to talk to me about?”
“I told you it’s not bad.”
I tilted my head in skepticism, and he laughed.
“Really. It’s not.” His eyes crinkled in the corners when he laughed.
It was incredibly sexy.
“I thought it would be nice to have a glass of wine with my wife.”
“Your wife?”
“You are my wife, are you not?” He looked over the rim of his glass at me.
“I am,” I said. “Unless you brought me out here to ask for a divorce.”
“A divorce?” Reid almost spilled his wine. “Why would I want that? Is everything settled with the inn already?”
Immediately, I felt stupid for jumping to conclusions. Reid wasn’t the type of man who would go back on his word. The more I got to know him, the more I could see that he was a solid guy. Dependable. And…well, good. Truly, I didn’t think he’d do anything to hurt me or go back on the deal we’d made.
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I think just the way you…well, right before you got here, I was thinking about my cousin and how he’s trying so hard to screw me over and…” To my horror, tears sprang to my eyes.
“Hey.” Reid set his glass of wine down, shifted closer to me on the step, and put his arm around me.
I stiffened for a moment, but his touch was so welcome, so needed, I sank into it and let myself accept the comfort.
“It’ll be okay, Avery.”
“You don’t know him.” Hell, I hardly knew my cousin anymore, if I ever really had. But what I did know of him was that he was an asshole.
“We’re married,” Reid said. “We did it in front of a judge and witnesses. No one can deny that.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled his masculine woodsy scent, letting it calm me before I sat up and took a sip of wine. “That’s true.”
“It sure is.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, just enough to make my chest tighten. He didn’t smile often, but when it did, it hit like a punch. “You’re my wife.”
“Wife?”
“You are.” He shot me a look. “That’s what being married means.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I know that. But you don’t usually…well, it’s just…”
“Speaking of weddings.”
“Were we?”
He lifted an eyebrow and blew out a breath. “We need to make an appearance,” he said. “An old friend is getting married. It’s going to be a pretty big deal and?—”
“You want me to go to a wedding with you?”
“Well, if you don’t, the whole town will be talking about it.”
I knew that was true. Not only had news of our nuptials spread almost before I could blink, but I couldn’t go anywhere in town without people introducing themselves and asking questions that I’m sure they thought were innocent enough. But I could see right through them for the nosiness they really were. People were curious about us. I couldn’t blame them.
“Okay,” I agreed with a nod. “When is the big day?” I lifted my glass to my lips. It was one thing to pretend to be married in the privacy of the inn, but going out in public…
“This Saturday.”
I almost spat out my wine.
“As in, two days from now?”
He nodded, and I laughed.
“Do you think we can pull it off?” I said after a moment.
“Yes.” Reid didn’t hesitate. “But I do think we should practice first.”
“Practice?” I echoed, my pulse kicking up a notch.
He shifted a little on the step, his knees bumping into mine.
“What kind of practice are we talking about?” My voice was softer now.
He leaned back slightly, tipping his head toward mine. “For starters…we should work on the whole happy couple thing. So, maybe a kiss.”
My breath caught. “A kiss?” I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about kissing Reid again. How could I not? He was sexy and strong and…we’d been working so closely together. And then there was the memory of our kiss at the courthouse that played on an almost constant loop in my head, especially when I was alone in my bed at the end of the day.
“We want it to look real.” His lips twitched, almost like he was trying not to smile.
“We do,” I agreed, leaning closer to him. “And practice does make perfect, after all.”
He nodded as his rough palm slid over my cheek, cupping it gently. “Really,” he said. “It’s the responsible thing to do.”
He was so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my lips.
“It is.” My voice was little more than a sigh as our lips met.
The kiss started soft—so soft it almost undid me. My heart stuttered, an ache building in my chest.
But then it shifted. Reid angled his head, deepening the kiss with a confidence that sent a shiver down my spine. His hand slipped to the nape of my neck, his thumb brushing against the tender skin there in a way that made me melt into him.
I couldn’t stop the small sound that escaped me, just as I couldn’t stop leaning into him. My fingers curled into his shirt, holding on to him for balance—or just to ground myself somehow before I got completely lost in him.
Everything around us faded. Nothing else mattered but this man and this moment.
When he finally pulled back, I was breathless. He rested his forehead against mine and for a long moment, neither of us moved.
“That,” he said, his voice rougher now, “felt real enough to me.”
I blinked up at him. “Me too.”
The way his eyes searched mine told me that this wasn’t just practice—not for either of us.