Chapter 26 Tanner
Tanner
Avery had friend-zoned him completely again after their skate, keeping Tanner at a distance that was driving him nuts.
One step forward, five steps back.
At a loss as to how to win her over, he resorted to old measures and reached for his credit card.
“I bought you something,” he said, as casually as he could manage, when Avery entered the kitchen after another long morning in her workshop.
He was desperate to see what she was working on out there but knew he couldn’t handle being in that small a space without touching her. It was becoming a problem.
“What is it?” Crossing the room to fill her glass from the faucet, she shot him a suspicious glance and leaned a hip against the nearest cupboard.
Tanner jerked a thumb toward a neat, cloth-wrapped package on the table and tried not to fidget. “Take a look.”
Avery’s steps across the kitchen were measured and a little reluctant. With careful deliberation, she unwrapped the soft suede purse as he eyed her eagerly for her reaction.
“I thought the color would suit you—I guess it’s a kind of rust, right? And it’s called a hobo bag, apparently.” He knew he was babbling.
“Why?” Avery asked, her face blank.
“Fuck knows. They all had weird names.”
“No, not why is it called a hobo bag. Why have you bought me a purse?”
Dammit. He should have thought of an answer to that. “It was on sale.”
Her fingers stroked the leather even as the warmth in her voice dipped dangerously close to freezing. “You know you can’t lie for shit, right?”
Tanner took another desperate slug from his own glass of water. This wasn’t going the way he’d expected. Lily would’ve lapped it up. “I bought the purse because I wanted to. Because I thought you’d like it.”
“It’s designer.” Avery touched the metal lettering on the handle.
“Could be a knock-off.”
She fixed him with a cool stare. “Is it?”
“No.” He’d dropped nearly $2k on the tote but she didn’t need to know the details. The minute he’d seen it, he’d known it was perfect for her.
Avery set the purse down firmly on the table.
“You don’t like it?” Fuck. He’d made a mistake. Tanner rubbed at the back of his neck.
“It’s beautiful.” Her glare sat at odds with her words.
“So . . . ?” He was floundering here.
“I’ve told you before, with the sewing machine and the skates, I’m not that person. The one who’s impressed by big gestures and expensive gifts. I don’t need that from my friends.” Avery’s mouth was a stubborn line.
Frustration made Tanner’s voice sharper than he intended. “What do you need, Stretch? Because it seems to me that you don’t let yourself need very much at all. You’ve forgotten how to expect anything from anyone.”
Avery’s blue eyes flicked up to his face and away again, searing a hole through his heart with the depth of misery they contained. “And you need to remember that there’s more to life than money, so I guess we’re both a little defective.”
She was stubborn, infuriating, entrancing.
Wounded and untouchable. Tanner was embarrassed by the effect she had on him; it was pitiful.
But his flash of anger faded and died right there, in the shadow of her pain.
He reminded himself daily that it’d taken ten years to get to this point.
He’d already played the long game. A little longer wouldn’t kill him.
“I might be defective, Stretch. But you’re not. Whatever you think.”
“I need to get back to work.” Seemingly intent on avoiding his words, Avery drained the glass of water, catching the last stray drop on the rim with her tongue, and Tanner forgot to breathe for a second.
Correction. It might very well kill him.
Looking for something else to focus on, he picked up the top letter from a pile of mail on the table and opened it. A rental contract for an office space in Boston. Tanner frowned and set it aside to discuss with Arlo. “You got a bar shift tonight?”
“I have.”
“I’m meeting Sam and Kash for a drink later.”
“I think my friends are going out, too,” was all she said in reply, the careful reserve still in place. “Should be a fun night.”
He forced a crooked smirk. “I always bring the fun. It’s what I’m known for.”
Avery scoffed and Tanner welcomed the thaw now they were back on safer ground. “Please. We both know that’s Bel.”
She made a move toward the door, but Tanner didn’t want to let her go. “What are you working on today?”
He was rewarded by the small smile that relaxed Avery’s face. “I found a couple antique wingback chairs that look perfect for one of Jackson’s projects. I’m just about to head out and pick them up.”
“What will you do with them?” As someone who was now more likely to throw away and replace anything broken, he was fascinated by the process of Avery’s work.
Wished he could find a reason to wander outside more often, just to watch her repair, shape, staple, and stitch from a distance.
It was a painstaking and surprisingly physical craft. She was so talented.
“I have some blue velvet I want to use for these two. It’ll be a big change because they’re pretty trashed right now.”
Avery’s nose twitched, the gold hoop catching the light, and Tanner’s gut clenched.
Ever since the night of the party, his body had craved hers with a need that was electric.
Everything she did set it off, from a nose wrinkle to a shrug.
His mouth burned with the memory of her lips against his, the warmth of her tongue, the sharp edge of her teeth.
His recollection of the feel of her skin frequently left him aching.
He’d lost whole minutes having to talk his cock into submission and it was only getting tougher.
The worst pain.
The best pain.
He didn’t care. He just wanted her close.
Avery was still talking and Tanner yanked his attention back from its wishful crawl to the bedroom.
“I’d better get on, anyway. I told the guy I’d be with him by mid-morning.” She took a double handful of her hair and swept it back into a ponytail, tugging a band from her wrist to fix it in place. Distracted as he was, Tanner still smiled at the memory of another time, another hairband.
“Want a hand?” He struggled to keep his voice neutral, knew she’d resist if she felt pressured. “I’ve got nothing on and it would give me a free workout.”
“You want to come pick up old furniture?” Avery paused in front of him on her way out of the kitchen, wary confusion warring with something far more intense on her face.
Tanner shot her a cocky grin, designed to inflame, and it was as if their casual conversation was nothing more than tissue paper over another deeper layer. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
Those fucking lips, the color of wet clay, parted a little as she stared up at him, and a plume of hunger flared in her eyes. Tanner recognized the look because, damn, if it didn’t reflect everything that was starving and needy inside himself.
Suddenly infuriated that she was denying them both the chance to quench this goddam burn, Tanner took a step toward her, backing Avery up against the kitchen island.
With only a few inches between them, the heat from her body sent his own temperature climbing.
Her chin jerked upward as she stared him down, unflinching and watchful.
There was a tremble in his hands as he clenched them, keeping just enough of a distance.
“Kissing isn’t dating, right? Do you have rules about kissing?” He knew he sounded desperate and he didn’t care. The flames that snapped to life in Avery’s eyes turned his restraint to piles of ash.
“Not that I can think of right now,” she said slowly, and her voice was hot steam over fiery coals.
His gaze dipped to the flush coloring Avery’s delicate collarbones, the straps of her sundress so narrow, so slight, he could snap them with one firm tug. His length flexed at the thought as Tanner trailed his eyes higher and watched the pulse jump at the base of her neck.
“Good.” And then he shifted closer, so close that his lips were a breath away from hers, the temptation to close the distance almost overwhelming. But he waited, keeping a stranglehold on his desire as tawny eyes met blue and threw down a challenge.
The move was hers to make.
The suspense was agony.
And then Avery closed the gap.
Denial melding into passion, the kiss started out hard and hot, a little desperate on both sides. Their mouths clashed, tongues swept, bodies pressed. Tanner’s hands were on her hips as a groan wrenched from his throat and his heart threatened to combust inside his chest.
But he forced himself to slow the pace, easing off until Avery softened in his grip, the tension easing from her muscles like water draining from a sponge.
The pliant give of her tongue against his had Tanner’s eyes fluttering closed.
He explored her mouth gently, his fingers bunching the cotton of her dress as she clutched at his biceps, neither pulling him nearer nor pushing him away.
He sucked on her lower lip, catching it whisper-light in his teeth and delighting in her shaky exhale. Her breath was sugar and seduction. He kissed her and kissed her and kissed her, until his legs shook and his throat was parched.
The realization that if he didn’t stop now he likely never would, forced him to step back. It made his soul cry. His dick, too.
Beneath the curtain of Avery’s bangs, her pupils were blown, narrowing the blue of her irises to skinny rings. Tanner’s voice was rough when he spoke. “Let me know when you want to leave and I’ll be ready.”
Her nod was an uncoordinated bobble. The swollen curve of her lips filled him with territorial pride and he forced himself to move to the sink, where he filled another glass from the faucet and chugged it down. His erection pulsed, hot and insistent, in his shorts.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” she said, heading for the patio doors. Tanner pretended not to notice when she bounced off the corner of the table on her way past.
“Stretch,” he called after her.