Chapter 10
Flint
I knew something was wrong the moment Avery walked through the door.
She was wearing a pink cardigan today, buttoned all the way up to her throat like armor, and she wouldn’t meet my eyes. Her smile when she greeted me was polite and distant, the same smile she’d give a stranger browsing the travel section.
I reached for her anyway, brushing a strand of hair off her shoulder, and she went still beneath my touch.
The morning doubts had hit her hard.
I’d expected it, honestly.
A woman like Avery didn’t give herself easily, and now that she had, every fear she’d ever carried was probably screaming at her to run.
But I wasn’t deterred. Not even close.
Especially not after the bomb Marlene had dropped on me this morning.
My aunt had called at seven, her voice strange and nervous in a way I’d never heard from her before. What she’d told me changed everything, and I was still turning it over in my mind, trying to figure out how to handle it.
“Good morning,” Avery said, her voice carefully neutral as she slipped behind the counter and stowed her bag.
“Morning, gorgeous,” I watched her move, the way she kept her body angled away from mine as she busied herself straightening a stack of bookmarks that didn’t need straightening.
But her pulse was beating hard in her chest, and I couldn’t be the only one that noticed her perky nipples poking at her cardigan, giving me a rowdy hello.
A customer approached with a stack of mystery novels, and Avery practically lunged to help them. I stepped back and let her work, but I kept my eyes on her as the day progressed.
Every time there was a lull between customers, she found somewhere else to be. Reorganizing a display. Checking stock in the back. Anything to avoid being alone with me.
Around mid-morning, she finally looked around the store with a frown.
“Where’s Shelly?”
“Changed her schedule,” I said. “She’s coming in tonight instead.”
Avery’s lips pressed together, and I could see the question in her eyes.
But she didn’t ask why, just nodded and turned to help a mother wrangling two kids toward the checkout counter.
The store stayed busy through lunch. Tourists filtered in and out, drawn by the new displays I’d set up near the entrance. A group of hikers bought trail guides and protein bars from the snack basket I’d added last week.
Through it all, Avery kept her distance, professional and pleasant and absolutely unreachable.
I wasn’t concerned. Avery just needed someone to help build up her confidence.
It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that we finally got a break. The last customer wandered out with a bag of paperbacks, and the store fell quiet except for the soft creak of the old building settling.
I leaned against the counter and watched Avery pretend to organize the staff picks table.
“You know,” I said, keeping my voice low, “I spent eight years pushing people away.”
She stilled, but didn’t turn around.
“Built my cabin way out in the woods where nobody could reach me. Told myself I liked the solitude. Told myself I didn’t need anyone.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “But the truth is, I was scared. Scared that if I let someone in again, they’d see something they didn’t like and leave.”
Avery’s shoulders tensed.
“You’re doing the same thing right now,” I rumbled. “Pulling back. Putting up walls. Hoping if you push hard enough, I’ll give up and prove you right about men.”
She spun around, her cheeks flushed. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it?” I crossed my arms.
Her jaw tightened, and then her expression crumbled, vulnerability bleeding through the cracks in her composure.
“I care about you,” she said quietly. “More than I should after only a week. But I’m scared, Flint. I refuse to be another hookup for some mountain man who’s just scratching an itch. Are you doing more than that?”
Before I could respond, the bell over the door jingled. A middle-aged woman bustled in carrying a cardboard box, her reading glasses perched on top of her head.
“Excuse me,” she asked. “Do y’all buy used books? I’ve got a whole collection of cookbooks from my mother-in-law, and honestly, I cannot deal with another casserole recipe.”
Avery smoothed her expression. “Yeah. We buy some used books. Let me take a look at what you’ve got.”
When the customer finally left, satisfied with the arrangement, Avery immediately started gathering her things.
It was five o’clock, and she was trying to slip out on me.
I moved before she could reach the door, stepping into her path and backing her up against the cash register. Her eyes went wide as I planted my hands on either side of her, caging her in.
“Flint, what are you—”
“You don’t get to run from me, Avery,” I murmured, leaning down until my lips brushed her ear. “I’ve got a big night planned for us.”
“Everyone’s watching,” she whispered.
“Good. Let them watch.”
And then I kissed her.
It wasn’t a wild kiss like the night before. It was a civilized kiss, showing her that I wasn’t afraid to make a public display out of us. I was no Sawyer Reed. I had staying power.
Avery blinked rapidly as I pulled away, her cheeks flushed, her expression soft. She knew why I’d just done that. And I’d do it again.
As I dipped in to give her another kiss, the bell jingled again, and Shelly waltzed in with a bright smile.
Avery blinked, and I finally released her from my cage. “What are you doing here?”
“Flint asked me to work the night shift.” Shelly beamed, practically bouncing on her heels. “He said I was ready for my first solo run. I’m so excited!”
Before anyone could respond, the door burst open again, and Amos strode in carrying an enormous cupcake topped with a sparkler that was actively shooting tiny sparks into the air.
“ATTENTION, BOOKISH CUSTOMERS!” he bellowed, his voice carrying through the entire store. “Please join me in celebrating Shelly Anderson’s first solo shift with this ceremonial cupcake dedicated to literary excellence!”
He dropped to one knee in front of Shelly, presenting the cupcake like a knight offering tribute to a queen. The sparkler popped dramatically, and a few customers actually clapped.
Shelly burst out laughing as she took the cupcake. “Amos, you absolute lunatic.”
Then he kissed Shelly’s hand and said, “Gotta go, babe. I’ve got a hot date tonight.”
I side-eyed him.
Amos grinned at me, completely unrepentant. “What? We’re just friends!”
I shook my head, but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my mouth. That dude was nuts.
Then I turned back to Avery.
“Come on,” I said, taking her hand. “Shelly’s got the store covered. And I’ve got a special evening planned for us.”
I drove her out of town, past the city limits and into the mountains where the roads turned to gravel and then to dirt.
My cabin sat in a clearing surrounded by towering pines, small and rustic but solid. I’d built most of it myself over the years.
“It’s not much,” I said as I led her inside. “Kitchen’s through there. Bedroom’s in the back. Bathroom’s got running water, which is more than some folks out here can say.”
Avery looked around with wide eyes, taking in the worn leather couch, the stone fireplace, and the shelves lined with fishing lures I’d collected over the years.
“It’s perfect,” she said softly.
Something warm spread through my chest.
“Does it compare to the Treetop Apartments?” I asked.
She slipped her hand into mine. “Sure, only a thousand times better.”
I led her outside to where I’d set up two chaise lounge chairs facing the open sky. The sun was setting, painting the mountains in shades of orange and pink, and soon the stars would emerge.
We settled into the chairs, close enough that I could reach over and take her hand while we watched the sunset. The night air was cool but not cold, carrying the scent of woodsmoke from a neighbor’s fire somewhere far in the distance.
And now, after eight hours of waiting to share the news, I finally got to say, “I heard from Marlene this morning.”
Avery immediately sat up straighter, her whole body tensing with concern. “How is she? Is her leg healing okay? When is she coming back? Has she been doing her physical therapy?”
I chuckled. I was about to blow her mind.