15. Avery #2
I’ve secretly been practicing my signature for the last week, and honestly, it just looks like an unreadable squiggle.
If someone handed me a book with that mess in it, I’d assume a toddler had taken a crayon to it.
But that’s what I’m supposed to do, right?
Sign my name like some kind of fancy, important author?
Terrifying. Absolutely sheer, bowel-loosening terror. And yet—somehow—kind of thrilling as well?
I mean, I’ve wanted this for so long. To be an actual, real author. And yet, I’m sitting here trying not to break out in a full-blown cold sweat.
Before I can spiral any further, Peggy checks her watch and turns to Maddie. “So,” she says. “Are you going to show me to your Uncle Grayson’s study?”
Maddie’s face lights up with a very specific kind of mischief. “Okay.”
Then, before Peggy even knows what’s happening, Maddie’s off like a shot, running toward the library door as she shouts back, “Race you!”
Peggy blinks. Then slowly turns to me.
I sigh, already pushing up from the chair. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
As we walk out of the library, Peggy shakes her head, amused. “She’s a spirited little thing, isn’t she?”
“That’s… one way of putting it. But yeah... seriously, she's hard not to love once you get to know her.”
We make our way through the hallway, Maddie’s not-so-distant giggles echoing ahead of us.
As we reach Gray’s study, I stop, motioning toward the door. “Okay, I’ll see you later. Good luck.”
Peggy nods, then knocks on the door. As she steps inside, I turn on my heel and head upstairs.
First, a shower. Because if I’m going to be signing books and taking photos, I should probably smell like something other than nerves and day-old perfume.
I step under the hot spray, letting the water soothe my jangled thoughts as I work shampoo through my hair. Rinse. Conditioner. Rinse again. Then, a quick scrub down with my vanilla-scented body wash before shutting off the water and stepping out, steam curling around me.
I towel off, wrapping my hair in a second towel before grabbing my robe. My nerves are still bubbling under the surface, but now they’re accompanied by a tiny bit of anticipation. It’s weird. I’m excited and terrified all at once.
Sitting at the dresser, I plug in my hair dryer. As I work through the strands, my tension ebbs just a little. Once dry, I pull it into a sleek ponytail—simple, elegant, easy.
Then, to the wardrobe. Or rather, Gray’s walk-in wardrobe, which is technically mine, but it still feels weird to think of it that way.
There it is, still wrapped in its cellophane—the dress. Knee-length, deep red, flattering in all the right places. The second I saw it on that shopping trip with Beth, I knew. It was the one.
I take it off the hanger, carry it back to the bedroom, and lay it carefully across the bed. The subtle lace detailing catches the light, delicate but understated. Just enough to make it feel special without screaming ‘Look at me’.
I slip it on, smoothing the fabric over my hips before stepping in front of the mirror.
Confidence. Terror. Equal parts of both.
I open a box beside the bed and pull out my shoes—a pair of stylish flats. Beth had been very clear: since I’ll be standing and interacting with people for hours, comfort is key. But that doesn’t mean I have to look like I gave up.
Next up, jewelry. I pull out my small box and pick out my mother’s pearl earrings, a delicate necklace, and a thin gold bracelet. Simple. Meaningful.
I sit back down at the dresser and do my makeup. Natural. Glowy. Just enough to highlight my features without looking overdone.
God... I wish my heart would stop thumping.
A quick check of my watch. Time to get moving.
Back to the wardrobe for one last thing. I grab my new light-fitted blazer and slip it on, then take one final glance in the mirror.
Okay-ish I suppose.
With that, I pick up my bag, head out of the bedroom, and down the hall toward the stairs.
Just as I reach the landing, I hear Gray’s voice. “Just make sure she behaves herself when we get there.”
Peggy murmurs something in response, but before I can register what, Maddie chatters away, filling the space with rapid-fire excitement.
Then I step onto the stairs, and everything stops.
Maddie looks up first, eyes going wide. “Wow. Can I have a dress like that, Uncle Gray?”
Gray, however, is too busy standing there, mouth practically hanging open.
His thick ink-black hair flops over his forehead, just slightly messy in that effortlessly sexy way.
Dark masculine stubble lines his jaw, only adding to the whole brooding male model aesthetic he seems to have perfected without even trying.
And the black suit? The crisp white shirt? The tie that just begs to be undone?
Oh… just edible. Avery… stop it!
Anyway, I make it down the last step, and the moment I do, he moves toward me, closing the space between us in a few quick strides.
His hands find my waist, and before I can say anything, he leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the side of my neck. Then, a whisper, low and warm against my skin. “You look perfect.”
My face heats instantly. I wave a dismissive hand, mumbling something that’s supposed to sound humble but probably just comes out as incoherent nonsense.
Gray smirks but doesn’t push. Instead, he steps back and looks at the others. “Okay then, let’s get going.”
Outside, Peggy is already in a mild battle with Maddie over holding her hand.
“Maddie,” Peggy sighs, exasperated. “Just hold my hand while we walk to the car.”
“I don’t need to, I know where the car is,” Maddie argues, crossing her arms with all the stubbornness of a tiny dictator.
Gray, ignoring the standoff, opens the passenger door for me. I step inside, smoothing my dress as I do, and let out a slow breath. My nerves are already tap-dancing on my stomach.
Peggy finally manages to get Maddie into the back seat and slides in next to her. Gray shuts my door, then gets into the driver’s seat, firing up the silent hum of his car.
As we pull down the long drive, Gray glances over at me. “Catherine, Harper, Oliver, and Mia from marketing are already on-site, along with Beth. They’ll meet us there.”
I nod, gripping my hands together. “Okay.”
As we pass through the large posts onto Drayton Close, Maddie’s already deep into a full-blown conversation with Peggy about the critical importance of knowing how to outsmart trolls, and how a fox, would totally be the best pet ever.
We continue onto Main Street, rolling through downtown Westhaven’s familiar charm when Gray reaches over, his fingers briefly brushing mine.
“Now, remember what I told you about the rundown?” he says. “Press, a short reading, questions, then signings.”
I swallow, nerves spiking again. “Yes, I remember.”
“Good.” His fingers linger for just a second before returning to the wheel.
By the time we reach Beaverton, my anxiety is a whole-ass beast gnawing at my insides. Gray pulls onto Cedar Hills Blvd, slowing as he turns into the Powell’s Books parking lot.
As we step out, my nerves tangle with excitement, a weird, almost intoxicating mix of terror and thrill. This is real. This is happening.
I run my hands down my dress like that’s going to do anything for the chaotic energy vibrating through me.
Inside, Gray heads over to the store manager, shaking his hand. “Thanks for having us. This is Avery Bennett.”
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you, and thank you.” I try not to stand too awkwardly.
“No, thank you, Avery, we’ve all been so looking forward to this.” He leans in. “And I love the novel. Can’t put it down.”
He smiles and he walks away chatting with Gray as I let out a breath and take in the bookstore, which reminds me of a larger, more high-tech version of Dad’s old bookstore.
It smells like fresh paper, ink, and coffee, a surprisingly soothing combination. The staff are all smiles, looking eager and ready to make this event a success.
Beth appears, practically glowing with excitement as she strides over, flanked by the Pacific Crest marketing team. “There she is! Ready to do this?”
“Define ‘ready’,” I mutter, but I let her and a friendly Powell employee guide me toward the signing area.
We run through the schedule, making sure everything is set. The staff gives us a quick tour, pointing out the displays featuring my novel, ‘Seduced by the Storm’.
The cover is stunning—a windswept landscape of deep reds and smoky greys behind a ruggedly handsome cowboy and a woman in a billowing dress. It looks expensive and dramatic, with the title in bold, elegant lettering.
At the signing table, there’s an eye-catching sign announcing the event, surrounded by stacks of my book.
I take a deep breath and arrange my pens, bookmarks, and whatever remaining shred of composure I have left.
Peggy leans down to Maddie. “Wanna go check out some books?”
Maddie eyes the stacks of books and immediately nods. “Yes! Can I pick one?”
“We’ll see.” Peggy winks at me before leading her away.
As the event time nears, people start trickling in. Some clutch copies of my book, while others grab one from the display. Members of the press set up cameras and notepads and the buzz of anticipation grows.
Gray stands to the side with Beth, his marketing team, and the manager. I try not to think about the way my heart races with each new arrival, the awe and gratitude mingling in my chest.
Then, the room falls into a hush as a Powell’s staff member steps in front of the table.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us today for the book signing of our sensational new author’s debut novel, ‘Seduced by the Storm’.”
A ripple of applause.
He continues, his voice smooth and engaging.