Chapter 10 Tanner #2
When the boardwalk became a dirt trail and the trees fell away to reveal a shallow portion of river stretched out to their left, he instinctively stood back to let Avery step over a fallen tree.
Her long legs flexed and stretched, drawing his eyes like magnets.
Remembering the chill of her thighs in his hands when he’d carried her out of the lake, a zap of electricity traveled the length of Tanner’s spine, flipping the bird at his resolve to keep things light and easy.
He hadn’t felt this kind of attraction in ages.
In fact, maybe since high school.
“Did you go to college?” he asked hoarsely, grasping for the first thing that came to mind.
Avery’s fingers went to toy with her necklace, as her mouth ticked up at the corner.
“I studied interior design at CMU for a year, but I didn’t have the right eye for it.
Turned out I was more drawn to the practical skills—I loved making things.
So, I dropped out when I got an internship with an upholstery shop in Vicksburg. My dad wasn’t impressed.”
Tanner could imagine. From what he remembered of Joseph Delgado, Avery’s father was the type to have pretty rigid aspirations and expectations. “Upholstery? Like, fabric and furniture, right?”
“Yes, in a nutshell,” she said, looking out over the river. “I set up on my own, just over three years ago. I’ve got a workshop in the backyard, and I juggle repairs and restorations with thrifting and renovating my own finds.”
“That sounds cool. I’d like to see some of the results.”
Avery shrugged him off. “It’s not as exciting as hockey.”
“I might disagree.”
She shot him a sideways glance. “Well, it doesn’t pay well enough just yet to make it my sole income, so I boost it with regular shifts in the Rusty Barrel. I think my dad hates that even more.”
“Not his kind of place, huh?”
“Not our kind of work,” Avery corrected him with lofty emphasis, a mocking half-smile revealing her contrary opinion.
In the calm quiet of the sultry Sunday morning, the scent of wildflowers and fresh leaves filled Tanner’s airways, and he suspected he could spend endless time like this with Avery.
There was still something about the steady parts of her that soothed the edgy parts of him. The parts that never shut up.
“I’m glad we skipped the obstacle course, Stretch. You’re a pretty easy person to talk to.”
The careful smile that flickered on her lips made him wish again that they’d had more time between the floodlight smash and him leaving Pine Springs.
If only he’d been able to get to know her properly back then, things might have been different.
But he’d tried to stay in touch and she’d disappeared on him. The memory stung like a jellyfish burn.
Tanner eyed her surreptitiously, taking in the way Avery’s hair shone a dozen different shades of red in the sunlight.
Even with the array of colors across her bruised cheekbone and the cut knitting together on her forehead, she called to him like none of the models, influencers, or puck bunnies had in the last ten years. Not Lily, not anyone.
“So, what’s with the ‘no dating’ rule then?”
Oh, smooth, you big dumbass. That was very smooth.
Avery wrinkled her nose. “I date here and there, though it’s rarely worth the effort. I just don’t do relationships.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “I have trust issues.”
Tanner kicked a pebble down the path. “Any particular reason?”
The laugh that forced its way from her lips sounded more bitter than humorous.
“Yeah. Because men can be dicks. Women, too. Especially to the person they’re supposed to love.
” Beneath the grin Tanner could just see a hint of weariness and disillusion behind Avery’s eyes, both so fleeting you could miss them if you weren’t paying attention.
“Let’s just say things were . . . difficult .
. . after my dad left. My mom needs a lot of support.
I don’t have time to look after a partner as well. ”
“Someone else could look after you,” he suggested.
“Someone else could make everything worse,” she countered with a single raised brow. “So you’re safe from me hitting on you, Ace Face. I’m immune to your considerable charms.”
Smothering a swell of disappointment that he felt right to the base of his stomach, Tanner flashed her a cocky grin. “But you agree they are considerable, right?”
Avery rolled her eyes. “We should head back,” was all she said in reply. “It’s getting late.”
The Escalade he’d rented at the airport screamed luxury, from its leather finish to the all-in-one screen system.
It was probably just as well that the center console, with its built-in cooler, was so damn wide.
Tanner might have been tempted to casually brush her fingers if he could reach and, straight after Avery’s candid knockback, that was far from the smartest of moves.
When they pulled up in the gravel lot near the cabins, he reluctantly killed the engine, unwilling to call time on their morning together. And, as Avery released her seat belt and reached for the door handle, the question that had been on his tongue all morning spilled from his lips.
“Nothing will ever mean more to me than what you did at school—it was the start of everything good. But you said you’d keep in touch, Stretch.”
Tanner could hear the raw edge of hurt that charred his words in the silence.
“How come you broke your promise?”