Chapter 33 Avery #2
“I might give it a miss. I need to see my mom.” She stonewalled the appealing suggestion, distracted by her irritation with Arlo and the reluctant determination to rebuild the barriers between herself and Tanner.
“I could ask if we can make it another night if you’d rather.
Or you could see your mom after?” The corner of Tanner’s mouth hitched as he studied her and Avery wished it didn’t tempt her to raise onto her tiptoes and kiss it.
Whole wars had been raging in her body since the wedding, with her need to protect herself fighting a losing battle with the ache, the yearning, that gripped her whenever Tanner was close. “You OK, Stretch?”
Another nickname. This one overflowing with humor and shared memories. Sinking into her skin like butter. If she wasn’t careful, it would rust the barbed wire she’d wrapped around her heart.
“I’m fine, thanks. I just have things I should get on with.”
Tanner studied her for another few seconds, then nodded. He began to steer the other two out of the workshop. “We’ll leave you in peace. Don’t work too hard.”
Avery caved before he reached the door. “Tomorrow is fine. I’ll come—and I’ll ask Gemma and Leo, too.”
Her reward was that smile of his that she’d come to miss when he wasn’t around. He always seemed genuinely delighted to spend time in her company, consistently and patiently letting her call all the shots. The lack of pushing was eating away at her resistance.
But behind Tanner’s shoulder, Avery caught a smirk on Arlo’s face and instantly regretted her change of heart.
Turning her music back up once they’d gone, she returned to the job of attaching the new material to an old chair frame. When her phone pinged on the workbench, she swiped it open with only half her attention on the message that had come through.
Unknown:
Keep your hands off, Delgado. He’s mine.
For fuck’s sake. Now she was being hated on by anonymous Tanner fans?
And they weren’t even actually dating.
This was getting ridiculous.
As Avery’s day took another nosedive, any leftover shine from Savannah’s wedding cracked and flaked away like a layer of old varnish on one of her restorations.
No one answered the buzz at the gates when the Jeep was delivered at the end of the afternoon. Since Tanner’s car was missing from the driveway, Avery broke away from her work to wander over.
“You must have the wrong address,” she told the guy driving the truck.
What is it with people who can’t send stuff to the right place? And can’t I be the one getting mistaken Jeep Wranglers fresh off the conveyor belt delivered instead of mealworms . . .
He checked his clipboard again. “Avery Delgado. This address. Looks right to me. You just need to sign here.” Pointing to a broken line at the base of his docket, he offered her his pen.
Be careful what you wish for.
“I didn’t order a car,” she said wearily.
“Name on the details is Tanner Stone.” He glanced up. “Wait—is that Tanner Stone, the hockey player?”
Avery flashed a reserved smile but ignored his question.
Maybe Tanner had given her name in case he wasn’t around—like now.
So she signed the docket and let the guy unload his cargo.
It seemed an odd choice for Tanner when he already had the G-Wagon.
The new, shiny blue-gray Jeep and Avery’s rusty old Honda (with its serious oil leak that she was running out of time to sort) made an incongruous duo in front of the house.
The truck passed Tanner and Mats as it was pulling out of the gates. They parked up on the driveway and a wide smile was already growing on Tanner’s face as he climbed out of his car.
“Where’ve you been?” Avery asked, but when he dragged the hem of his tee up to scrub the sweat from his brow, the sheen of his abs splintered the question on her lips and her voice sounded hoarse. “I thought you were supposed to be resting your shoulder until the surgery.”
He shot her a wink that was cocky and irresistible in equal damn proportions. “Legs take work, too, Stretch. Especially when they’re as fine as mine.”
Mats threw an eye roll that matched Avery’s to perfection and they shared a muted smile.
“What d’you think?” Tanner asked, leaning in to peer through the passenger window of the Jeep. “Do you like it?”
“It’s great. Nice color.” It was tough to concentrate on the car with Tanner wandering back and forth in front of her, his hair dark and damp and his shirt plastered to his chest. When it came to admiring bodywork, the Jeep took second place.
Avery held the keys and signed paperwork out to Tanner as Arlo sauntered out of the front door to join them. “You’ll need these.”
Tanner reached for the docket. “I’ll take this but you’ll want to keep the keys.”
They dangled from Avery’s fingers as her eyebrows raised. “Why would I need them?”
“It’s your car, Stretch.” He rubbed his hands together. “Open it up so we can see inside.”
A cold swirl of misgiving began to grow in her gut and Avery heard Arlo let out a snort behind her.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Confusion sharpened the glare that she sent Tanner’s way. “I have a car. I don’t need another one.”
“No, you have a heap of junk.” Tanner eyed the Honda. “It might have been a car once—now it’s just an assortment of parts. And that oil leak’s staining my drive.”
Avery couldn’t bring herself even to glance at Arlo—the indignation, the tension, the outright dismay, built steadily layer on layer until she could barely contain the storm. Biting down on it all, she struggled to keep her voice calm. “It serves a purpose. I don’t need anything newer.”
“It’s not always about the need. Sometimes it’s fun to have new stuff.” His grin dimmed a little. “If you’re emotionally attached to your old one, you don’t have to get rid of it. We can . . . um, store it somewhere? Or—”
“Turn it into a garden sculpture?” Arlo suggested.
“It’s not that.” Avery wished they weren’t having this conversation in front of an audience; she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep this under control.
“Look, Tanner. We’ve talked about this. I don’t want you to spend your money on me.
I don’t need expensive gifts—I can take care of myself.
A hoodie is one thing. I even let the purse go. But this . . .”
Tanner’s grin flashed huge again. “Be honest, Stretch. You love that purse.”
She floundered a little then because, yes, she loved her purse. But a purse wasn’t a car.
Avery dragged in a shaky breath because she didn’t want to crush him, but she needed to put a stop to this now, once and for all. “You can’t just buy someone a car on a whim.”
“Think you’ll find you can when you’re a super-successful and somewhat hot professional sports player,” Tanner smirked. “It was pretty easy really.”
“I have money myself—I could buy a new car if I needed one.” She made another stab at getting him to see sense.
“You did need one and didn’t buy it, so I’ve done it for you.” He wasn’t even pretending to be apologetic. “As long as you like it and wouldn’t prefer a different one, it’s all done now.”
Avery had regrets over telling him about her damn car troubles at the wedding. “But you—”
“Oh, give it a rest, you two, for Chrissake,” Arlo grumbled. “If you don’t want the Jeep, Boo, I’ll have it.”
Tanner just laughed. “You chose the Tesla. I’d have bought you a Jeep if you wanted one.
” He turned to head for the house, throwing one last comment over his shoulder as he went.
“Call it an early birthday present or a late Christmas gift—whatever you like. I’ve missed a few. Sorry I didn’t wrap it.”
Mats gave her a sympathetic look of understanding and followed Tanner inside.
Avery turned her back on whatever expression she might have found on Arlo’s face—she didn’t want to see it.
Her hands clenching and releasing by her sides, she stared blindly at the Jeep with her emotions in freefall, wondering why she ached so much for the things that money couldn’t buy.
And in the heat of the sun, with an unfamiliar set of keys in her hand, the years fell away and Avery was once again the pampered high school princess with everything she could have wanted and nothing she needed.