Chapter 12
12
A very opened the passenger door of her Jeep and pulled the taped list from her last covered tray of sample pastries.
“Okay.” She sighed the word and tucked her hair behind her ear, scanning the tray to make sure she had something special for all the big hitters on Dr. Morrison’s office staff. “Mandy caves for anything chocolate, Brenda’s mouth waters at the sight of lemon, Richard drops to his knees for cherry, and when Vickie tastes the new twist on my cinnamon rolls, she’s going to moan like?—”
Like I did when Trace was fucking me.
Avery’s mind raced back to the night before. To Trace driving into her so hard the sound of her back hitting the wall over and over still echoed in her head. And the memory of him filling her, so passionately consuming her, made a sinful thrill explode at the center of her body and spread like fire. Her pussy clenched, and the ache from their fierce quickie still burned between her legs.
She closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath. The look on Trace’s face as he set her down appeared in Avery’s mind—unmistakable guilt—immediately followed by his words to her their first night together, “Don’t second-guess your body. It’s telling you what you need, however, whenever you need it. There is no right or wrong in sex.”
She hadn’t been thinking about the contradiction last night, but it had probably been floating in her subconscious, because she was still uneasy about the intensity of what was happening between them. She was relieved he’d agreed to a little distance to get their heads straight.
She closed the car door with a bump of her hip, trying to refocus on her mission, but she was already missing him when she approached the entrance to Dr. Morrison’s family practice.
Before she could position the tray to free up one of her hands, the door opened and she moved aside.
Betty Baxter, the school librarian when Avery’d been a kid, stepped out of the office with a hand to her chest. “Avery? I heard you were back in town. Look at you. You always were the prettiest little thing.”
“Hi, Mrs. Baxter. You look wonderful.”
“Thank you, honey.” Her smile instantly turned into a sympathetic frown. “I’m so sorry to hear about you and David. Well, you know, we all do crazy things when we’re young. I was hoping it would work out with him being in the service and all, but, well...” Her smile returned in an instant, but this time it was a little more forced. “Look, we’ve got you back now, don’t we? Everyone’s talking about your café. When’s opening day? I’m sure someone’s told me, but, oh, this old brain. Remind me, sweetheart.”
“Saturday, November 20,” Avery said, her tone as forced as Betty’s smile but hopefully less transparent. She’d been home long enough for everyone to hear about her divorce but not long enough to have seen everyone and receive all the condolences. And every reminder felt like another failure.
“Oh, perfect. Just in time for holiday pies. You know you’re going to have some tough competition, what with Penny Stevenson out in Sundance. Her pies have been on everyone’s holiday tables for decades now.”
This was one of those days Avery didn’t need to hear about the walls ahead she still had to scale. So she kept the smile in place and offered a congenial, “I’m sure there are enough people in this county to keep both Penny and me up to our necks in pies this holiday.”
“You have the older Hutton boy working on your café, don’t you? The one who was in prison for drugs?”
She could remember that, but not Avery’s opening date?
“Trace Hutton,” Avery said with extra enthusiasm to combat Betty’s wary tone. “Wait until you see the place. He’s an amazing contractor and a real joy to have around.”
“Well, just keep your eye on him. You never know?—”
“Can I offer you a treat before these get inhaled by Dr. Morrison’s staff?” Avery peeled back the corner of the plastic wrap, grateful for the never-fail distraction.
“Oh, my.” Her gaze jumped from Avery to the tray and back, and her smile returned. Her concern over Trace’s past vanished. “Well, maybe just one or two for Henry. He loves his sweets. What have you got here, darlin’?”
“A little bit of everything. Lemon meringue bars and lemon angel cakes, cherry tarts and cherry cheesecake, Nutella truffles...”
As Betty fussed over her choices, her husband’s name struck a familiar chord. “Didn’t Henry work on the school’s instruments? I think I remember him coming in to tune the piano when I was in high school.”
“He did.” Betty lifted a lemon bar from the tray. “He’s retired now.”
“Do you think he’d be up for a little side job? I just got a piano donated from Mr. Stein’s old barber shop.”
Betty’s gaze lifted to Avery’s, and she smiled. “Barry Stein bought that new from Henry when he worked for Piano Works in Napa.”
“If he could make a visit and take a look, I’d be willing to pay you in free sweets whenever you come into the café.”
“Oh, dear.” Her smile turned sassy. “I doubt he’ll be able to pass up that offer.”
Fifteen minutes, a piano-tuning date, and far more than one or two treats later, Avery headed into the office, forcing her mind to this marketing call and away from the stressors of the moment.
Belle Davis looked up from her computer at the front desk with a generic smile. “Good morning, how can I—?” Her gaze flicked from the plate to Avery’s smile and back to the pastries, and Belle stood from her chair so fast, it rolled back and hit a filing cabinet. “She’s here!” Belle slapped a hand over her mouth, then lifted it enough to say, “Dammit, I should have waited until I got my pick before I said that.”
By the time the words were out, a half-dozen members of the front office staff huddled around the window, trying to sneak peeks of the tray.
“What’d you bring us, Avery?” Carrie, one of the file clerks, called from the back. “I can’t see through all these tall people.”
“There’s plenty for everyone.” Her chance meeting with Betty was the reason Avery always packed her plates full. There was always someone to cheer up or bribe with a treat along her path.
The side door opened, and one of the medical assistants waved at her. “Get back here, girl. We’ve been waiting on you.”
Avery’s worries fell away, and as she stood in the break room, chatting with staff as they came and went, she felt...whole. Content. Everyone was happy. Everyone was smiling. Everyone was chatty and excited as they perused and collected their goodies.
And while she caught up with some people she hadn’t seen in years and met others who’d come to town after she’d moved away, a small piece of her mind recognized the insignificance of her contribution. She realized that even though her moment in their lives here was fleeting and probably meaningless, it still gave her joy. And nowadays, joy came in such tiny doses, she was grabbing what she could get when she could get it.
Which spun her mind right back around to Trace. Last night’s uncomfortable ending aside, Trace brought a lot of joy into Avery’s life. Before they’d slept together, he’d brought laughter and friendship and a fresh perspective on their screwed-up world. Their first night together had brought more laughter, a bonding deeper than friendship, and ultimately a sense of joy she couldn’t say she’d ever experienced before.
Now...now she didn’t know. And despite her own suggestion they take some time apart, she wondered what kind of message she’d be sending if she went into the café to see him later today.
Two of the front desk clerks wandered from the break room with small plates of fudge, passing Belle on her way in. She stopped short and lifted her brows at Avery.
Grinning, Avery reached for one of the kitchen drawers, pulled out a Ziploc bag, and held it up. “Cabernet, Merlot, and Syrah dark-chocolate truffles.”
Belle clapped her hands, squealed like a little kid, and rushed to Avery. She snapped the bag from her fingers just before wrapping Avery in a bear hug and almost tipping her over.
They laughed together, and when Belle pulled back, she leaned against the counter, opened the seal, stuck her face in, and breathed deep. “Oh my God. What a high.”
She closed and sealed the bag with a grin that just wouldn’t quit. One that reminded Avery a lot of her brother, Mark.
“Wait until Toby gets ahold of these.” She reached out and squeezed Avery’s hands. “Thank you so much. This is going to be such a treat for my honey. He’s been working so hard.”
Belle’s fiancé was a PG she’d heard it a lot over the last couple of years. First from fellow army wives when initial rumblings of the divorce surfaced. Then again once it became a reality. And it started all over when she’d come home.
Everyone wanted some magical insight into their own relationship by way of her failure. Some kernel of knowledge that would give them a sense of security, assuring them that what happened to Avery wouldn’t happen to them.
“I knew things weren’t right between us,” she said, “but I never saw any signs that he’d checked out completely and had found someone else. And, yes, their engagement was fast, but feelings can sometimes happen between two people quickly when the situation is right.”
Her feelings for Trace had been instant and ramped up out of control within weeks of working with him. And look at her now.
“David and I were at odds for a long time. I prefer to think he had a friendship that turned into something more once we were divorced. Whether it’s true or not really doesn’t matter. David went through a lot overseas. We didn’t fit the same as we did when we were kids. It’s over, and people here might want to hold on to something they see as a scandal, but it’s really nothing more than two people realizing they were poorly matched and moving on. I’ve already let it go.”
That was a ridiculous oversimplification of something even Avery still didn’t fully understand. Not to mention a ludicrous understatement, glossing over all the loneliness and pain those long years caused her. But her answer made the worry clear from Belle’s eyes, and that made Avery happy.
“How’s the renovation going?” she asked. “Are you on target for your opening? Is there anything I can do to help?”
Avery’s mind turned to Trace first, and it lingered there when she should have been thinking about her business. “Trace is doing a great job on the café. It’s really beautiful. More than I ever expected, you know? I feel lucky that Delaney snagged him for the job. I could never have afforded anyone else. And so far, so good on the opening.”
“I’m so relieved. When I heard Trace was doing the work...” She grimaced. “I’m not gonna lie—I was worried.”
After Betty’s slight, this one nudged her protectiveness up another notch. Avery forced her frustration to the background. “Why?”
“He’s got such a playboy reputation. There are a couple of girls in the office who can’t stop talking about him since he got to town. And God forbid they actually run into him when they’re out at lunch or after work.” She rolled her eyes. “I guess from what I’ve heard I expected him to be out partying half the night, fucking someone the other half, and be spotty at work.”
Avery’s stomach squeezed until it ached. It took real effort to work up the lousy grin she put on. She just hoped it looked bored, not pained. “Well, you know this town and their rumors. I can’t tell you exactly what Trace is doing with all his nights, but I can tell you the man works twelve to fourteen hours every damn day, seven days a week, and he’s taking care of his dad, who’s suffering from early stages of dementia.”
“Oh, that’s right. I think I heard that.”
“And if you want to see quality, come into the café. It speaks for itself. If the man can find enough energy to do anything else after all that, he probably deserves some TLC.”
Belle grinned. “I love this new, tough Avery.”
She huffed a laugh. “This new, tough Avery will get you some flyers. If you wouldn’t mind passing them out, that would be great.”
“You bet.” She stood and slung her arm around Avery’s shoulders. “I’ll drop by the café and return your plate. That way I can pick up any leftovers hanging around.”
Avery curved one arm around Belle’s waist. “Better than turning them into compost.”
Belle left Avery at the office’s front door, and Avery returned to her car alone. Her mind wasn’t on her business or the café. All she kept hearing was Belle’s “I guess you really never know someone, right?”
After everything Avery had been through, she’d have to agree.