Chapter 25 Avery
Avery
Bel had just taken delivery of two pizzas at the front door when Avery’s mom rang her in a state because she could hear footsteps upstairs in her house. It took a while to work out what she was saying because she was so hysterical.
“No, I rang you!” her mother sobbed. “I’m in the downstairs bathroom with the door locked.”
“Can’t you get out and go to a neighbor?”
“I haven’t got any makeup on!” Violet’s wail sounded as if she’d smothered it behind her hand.
“Call it in and then ring me straight back. I’m on my way.”
Bel plucked the keys from Avery’s hand and chucked them onto the table, pushing the pizzas at her instead. “I’ll drive. You’ll need to speak to your mom and you’re not going on your own.”
Still clutching the boxes as she slid into the passenger seat of Bel’s car, Avery answered her mother’s call when she rang back and tried to keep her calm as they peeled away from the curb.
“I can’t hear anything now,” Violet whispered after nearly ten minutes had gone by. “I think they must have gone.” And she let out a stifled shriek as Avery heard the sound of a knock at her mother’s front door echoing clearly over the connection.
“Mrs. Delgado—this is the police. Can you open up?”
“Go let them in,” Avery instructed. “We’ll be there soon.”
Her mom’s front door was open and all the lights were on inside the house when Bel pulled up behind a black Interceptor and Avery scrabbled to release her seat belt.
Roman Martinez met them halfway up the path.
The police chief was an intimidating figure with his stony demeanor and reluctant smile.
He’d quickly become a familiar presence around town after his move from Detroit, and Avery often served him in the Rusty Barrel when he was off-duty.
Underneath his serious exterior was a genuinely decent core.
Martinez had turned out to be everything Pine Springs needed, especially after the horror of his predecessor.
“False alarm.” When the chief rubbed at the hint of scruff on his jawline, a wide silver band on his ring finger caught the light.
“The door was locked when we got here and there are no signs of a break-in anywhere. We’ve done a thorough sweep of the house.
” His brows pinched together. “My best guess would be that your mother heard the pipes knocking under the upstairs floorboards. It happens sometimes when the hot water makes them expand. They rub against the fittings and it can sound a little like footsteps.”
Avery’s breath gusted from her chest; she clenched her hands to stop them from shaking. “Thank you. I’m so sorry we bothered you.”
The hint of a smile ghosted one corner of the chief’s lips. “It’s what I’m paid for,” he said easily. “Better a false alarm than an actual break-in. Saved me a mountain of paperwork.”
Dougie Taggart jogged down the steps from her mom’s front door, leaving Violet standing behind him like an anxious wraith on the stoop. “Hey, Avery, Bel. All clear but she’ll be pleased to see you. Think it shook her up a bit.”
Avery thanked them again and the two men headed for the police cruiser.
“Chief Martinez can take my particulars any time he likes,” murmured Bel as she watched them drive away.
“That man looks at his wife like she’s a freshly baked snickerdoodle,” Avery said as she headed for the house, “so you can keep your greedy eyes to yourself.”
“I know it. She’s a lucky woman.” Bel gave an insouciant shrug. “And I’m more than happy to nibble on Drew so I’m no threat. It just needed saying.”
“Grab the pizzas from the car before you come in, would you?” Avery turned on the path, sagging as the adrenaline began to leave her body. “We might as well have something to eat. And Bel?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for coming with me.”
Her friend’s grin was fast and sassy. “Love a bit of high drama and uniform. Beats another night in with The Bachelor.”
Avery’s mom grabbed her hands as she met her in the doorway. Her breath still choppy, Violet tugged her inside. “I called your father but he didn’t answer. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Of course he didn’t answer. He never had in the months following their split. Not even when her mother had been hospitalized. Why would he pick up her call now, when they hadn’t spoken in years? Resentment burned in Avery’s throat.
Joseph Delgado had amputated himself neatly from Violet’s life, and any pleas for support from Avery as her mom floundered and sank had been brushed firmly to one side, leaving her with the sole responsibility of keeping her mother’s head above water.
Her father was not a fan of anything emotionally awkward.
And a spiraling ex-wife with fragile mental health was the epitome of awkward.
Bel’s arrival with the pizza saved Avery from having to answer her mother.
“We’ve brought dinner to share, Mrs. Delgado. I hope you like it spicy.” Bel held the boxes aloft like Olympic medals made of cardboard and breezed past them into the house.
“Let’s go eat,” said Avery and she shepherded her mom in front of her, following the scent of cooling pizza toward the kitchen.
Tanner, leaning against the doorframe of her temporary workshop, casual as anything, took one look at her face the next morning and asked if there was any chance she could rearrange her schedule to join him for an outing.
“I shouldn’t,” Avery said weakly. “I have Mrs. Alberty’s new armchair to finish.”
And a fake Facebook page to report.
Why the hell would anyone bother to set up a malicious account for her business?
Avery scrubbed at the headache that had started throbbing in her temples when Leo called to say he’d stumbled on the profile under his “People you may know” suggestions.
Checking it out, she’d found a handful of one-star reviews and a post saying she was closing down.
“A couple hours couldn’t hurt, could it?” Tanner wheedled, and Avery wondered how he knew that she needed a distraction.
And, however much she reminded herself that she was an island, better off on her own and at the whim of no one else’s moods or changeability, he was a distraction.
Even knowing what leaning on someone else had done to her mother, Avery found herself craving Tanner’s company with a strength that scared her.
Inexplicably, when she opened her mouth to say a firm “Thanks, but no,” she found herself agreeing instead.
Clearly delighted to have won the battle with such ease, Tanner moved fast and, within the hour, they were walking into an Open Skate session at one of the three ice rinks in Kalamazoo.
The arena hummed with activity. Kids of all ages littered the ice, with the occasional adult dotted among them, and the outing was so unexpected, so public, that Avery felt a complete absence of tension or regret, the heaviness in her spirit getting a welcome lift.
Dumping a huge bag on the floor, Tanner tugged at the zip. “Sit down and kick off your shoes,” he said.
When she did as she was told, he helped Avery slide her feet into a pristine pair of black and white skates.
Gazing down at the top of his head while he laced her boots, she itched to weave her fingers into his messy hair and smooth the sandy strands.
Having him so near was too tempting, his grip on her foot between his knees unreasonably sexy.
There was something about the assurance in Tanner’s movements that made her want to climb him like a tree.
Keeping her hands to herself, Avery redirected her traitorous attention to the skates.
“These are so comfy. Whose are they?”
“Yours.” His eyes flicked up and down again.
“Pretty sure I’d recognize them if they were.”
“Well, they are now.” Tanner flashed her the irrepressible grin that did so much damage to her resolve.
“I don’t need skates,” Avery said.
“Maybe I think you do.”
She couldn’t find an answer to that right now so she let him continue until the laces were secure and Tanner pulled her to her feet.
The air temperature was frigid. When Avery rubbed at her arms to chase off the chill, Tanner frowned.
“Damn—I should have gotten you to wear something warmer.” She could tell he was frustrated by the oversight.
“I’ll be fine . . .” She didn’t get any further before he stripped off his hoodie and pulled it over her head, engulfing her in a sensory swamp of residual heat and the spicy, masculine scent that was all Tanner. Avery slid her hands into the sleeves. “Now you’ll be cold.”
His grin made a sneaky return. “I’m a human wood stove, remember.”
The reminder of their night together closed a fist around Avery’s lungs.
She felt the press of his body against hers as clearly as if she were still curled around him.
A visceral need to experience it again raced through her veins like meltwater through a narrow rock gorge, stealing some of the strength from her knees.
She’d have been so much safer in her workshop.
Swiping his baseball cap from the bench, Tanner jammed it onto his head, pulling the peak down low over his eyes in an attempt to avoid attracting attention. And her pulse thrummed again.
Would it kill him to be just a little less aesthetic, for Chrissake?
“Let’s go, Stretch.”
Holding out his hands, he drew Avery to her feet and led her to the ice.
A boisterous babble and the grating scrape of blades hit them like a wall of noise, music pulsing in the background.
It was surprisingly easy to push everything else aside as the first tendrils of excitement tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Baseball cap or not, Tanner’s casual confidence attracted attention the moment he stepped onto the ice; he was kidding himself if he thought he could stay under the radar for long.
He skated as naturally as he walked, with a similar swagger to his movements—something that watching him onscreen had never quite captured—and his looks, his build, his ability, all blended into a spotlight on his shoulders.