Will
Chapter Four
“Oh.” The redhead blanched, her eyes drifting between Ava and me with a knowing look. “I didn’t know that you two were—”
I rolled my eyes. She didn’t know shit.
“We’re not,” I said, shaking off Ava’s touch.
I hated when she did that.
Hated when anyone did it, really.
Put their hands on me. Touched me. I had an almost unnatural aversion to it. Like an itch crawling its way across my skin that I couldn’t shake off fast enough.
I could offer a solid handshake, but that’s about as far as I could comfortably go without feeling like a stiff cardboard figure.
Ava cleared her throat, moving away swiftly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It was her attempt at making it look natural, trying to regain control of the situation.
“Oh, you thought the two of us were married?” Ava let out an airy laugh, as if she hadn’t a clue what the implication of her hand on my chest would look like. “I’m sorry. I can see why you would think that. What with the last name and all.”
I snorted.
Among other things.
She offered the Cliff Notes version. “I was married to his brother.”
“Was?” the redhead asked, still looking between us as if trying to size up what exactly our relationship was.
Hell if I knew. I’m sure my answer would vary wildly from whatever Ava had to say about it.
“He died,” Ava said lowly. “A few years ago.”
I looked off into the distance, not wanting to get into the intricacies of my family history with a stranger.
I’d gotten so used to everyone in town knowing my story that I hadn’t had to go out of my way to explain anything about my history to anyone in a very long time.
My brother was dead. It was a fact everyone here knew. But hearing it said out loud for the first time in who knows how long? It hit me in the chest, as if I were mourning him all over again.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, her eyes darting to me, and to her credit, she sounded it. Not just a passing line because it’s what people said, but almost like she really meant it.
“Thank you,” Ava said, stepping closer to fill the space I purposely put between us. “It’s been hard, but I’m lucky that Will’s been here to help me through it.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. She was my sister-in-law. I’d always look out for her. But you’d think after all these years she’d give it a break.
“Yeah,” the girl—who irritatingly had yet to introduce herself—commented. “I hear he’s big into that. Helping people and what not.”
I guess her moment of sympathy had faded, transitioning directly back into her quippy, little loaded comments. But when I shot her a glare, in response to the accusation I was expecting to find in those green eyes of hers, I was surprised to see something else.
Playfulness, maybe? A spark of humor? Whatever it was, it was a hell of a lot better than the looks she’d been throwing me before.
She looked pretty when she wasn’t calling me an asshole. Hell, she looked pretty even when she was.
Not that it mattered what she looked like. I still wasn’t going to run around town to help someone who was only passing through. I had enough to deal with already.
Besides, she seemed capable enough. Clearly not the type to be easily intimidated. She had no issue going toe to toe with me despite her barely even reaching my shoulders. I’m sure she’d be fine.
“Anyway, I better be going,” she said, throwing a thumb behind her as she gestured toward the door. “I’ve got a gas station to get to.”
Gas station? I thought, wondering if it hanging around odd places was just another one of her bizarre quirks.
She turned to go, but Ava held out a hand to stop her.
“Wait, what about your coffee?”
“Oh, it’s okay.” She waved it off, as if I didn’t notice her salivating at the mouth every time someone walked by us with a cup of coffee. “I really don’t want one anymore.”
I snorted.
Now that she’d retreated from attack mode against me, I felt like the asshole she accused me of being for sending her away yet again without the caffeine she was obviously feening for.
“Just get a coffee,” I said, watching as her head whipped toward me in surprise.
“No,” she said. “I’m good.”
I stared at her, trying my best not to get irritated at her refusal.
“You’re stubborn, you know that?”
“Not stubborn. Just respecting your wishes.”
I rolled my eyes, keeping my tone as neutral as possible despite the circumstances. “What I wish is for you to get a coffee before you pass out on the floor and cause a hazard in my shop.”
Really, I just wanted to have her in and out, fast as possible. But this girl had a tendency to linger. It would be easier to give her what she wanted, so she’d go away. I just wasn’t expecting the mental gymnastics that came along with it.
“Then give me permission to be a customer here.”
I scoffed. “You don’t need permission. It’s a public establishment.”
“Owners have the right to deny service to whomever they choose.” She grinned, clearly enjoying what she was doing to me.
“I’m not denying you service.”
“And you never will?”
“Deny you service? That depends on what you’re thinking about doing.”
Was she trying to make my head explode?
“Well, I just want to make sure you’re not going to serve me on happy days only to turn me away whenever you’re in a bad mood.”
“You think this is a happy mood day?” I asked incredulously.
“It’s too early to tell.” She shrugged. “I don’t know you that well yet.”
“Okay, you two,” Ava said, irritated. “You’re acting like children.”
“You’re right,” the redhead said, head snapping to Ava guiltily, as if noticing that she was still there. “Sorry. A coffee would be great.”
I’d almost forgotten myself, locked in as I was on trying to keep up with this woman’s agonizing banter. Just like yesterday, my head was spinning, trying to stay ahead of whatever game she was trying to play with me.
It had been a long time since I’d been caught up in a back-and-forth like that. Longer still since I had a conversation with anyone that could be qualified as interesting.
Because, despite her being overwhelmingly frustrating, at least we weren’t talking about the same mind-numbing town gossip that had been discussed on a loop for the last fifteen years.
This girl—woman, I guess, since she looked to be in her mid-twenties—definitely wasn’t like anyone else around here, for better or for worse.
“Great,” I told her, ready to get her out of my store and out of my mind. “I’ll take your order in the front.”
And then I turned, heading behind the counter before she could hit me with another comment that I halfway feared would make my brain buffer while trying to come up with a response.
It wasn’t often I felt like an idiot, and I wasn’t about to let this new girl turn me into one.
Luckily, she followed me without a fight.
“What do you want?” I asked, feeling a bit more clearheaded now that I was behind the counter.
“Iced vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon. Please.”
Sprinkle of cinnamon? I rolled my eyes.
I moved to go make the drink, not bothering to put it into the register. Then paused.
“Name for the order?” I added as an afterthought.
“Elsie.”
I nodded, then felt stupid for doing so, because her name didn’t warrant any form of acknowledgment, and then busied myself with preparing it before I could embarrass myself further.
I pushed the drink across the counter to her, watching her light up at the sight of it. Simple girl, if coffee made her eyes sparkle like that.
“On me,” I told her before she could slide a debit card out of the back of her phone case.
It was supposed to be an offering of good faith, so hopefully we would never have to relive one of these charged encounters again. I should’ve known that with her, it wouldn’t be that simple.
“I can’t take this without paying.”
I exhaled deeply.
“Yes, you can.”
“No way,” she said, prepared to duke it out once more.
“Elsie,” I said firmly, running a hand over my face, feeling utterly exhausted by the last ten minutes of my life. “For my own sanity, just take the damned coffee, please. You’ll be doing me a favor.”
“Fine,” she told me, shoving a handful of dollars into the tip jar. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I matched her tone, watching as she turned to leave.
“Nice to meet you, Ava,” Elsie said as she left, and my eyes widened at the realization Ava was behind the counter next to me.
It was partially her place too, in theory at least, since she’d inherited my brother’s share. I had no problem with her being back there.
What I did have a problem with was the fact that my head was apparently so clouded, I hadn’t even noticed she was there.
She waited until Elsie was out the door before she turned to me with something like accusation in her eyes. “What was that about?”
“What?”
“I’ve never seen you like that with someone.”
“I’ve never encountered someone like that.” I gestured wildly toward the door Elsie had left from, trying to defend whatever rude behavior I figured she was referring to.
She pursed her lips. Usually, her way of letting the conversation die, while letting me know she was unsatisfied with the conclusion of it.
I turned, busying myself with cleaning the espresso machine, if only so I had something else to focus on.
“You never ask anyone’s name when you take their coffee order,” she said with a frown.
And yet Ava wasn’t done.
“I don’t need to,” I told her, not meeting her eyes. “I know everyone’s name.”
“No,” she countered, pushing the matter further. “Even when people are passing through, you still never ask.”
I spun, leaning back against the counter to look at her. “So what, Ava? I did it without thinking. What’s the big deal?”
“You always think about everything you do,” she said, eyes narrowed, trying to decipher God knows what.
“Well, this time I didn’t,” I said. “Jesus, it was just a simple question. What do even you care?”
She looked away, as if my words stung her.
“If you wanted to know her name, you could’ve just asked her,” she said, and then spun on her heel and left, leaving me once again with the nagging feeling that somehow, she’d proven a point I hadn’t known she was arguing.