19. Grayson
NINETEEN
Grayson
T he sun sits high in the sky as I navigate my truck down Main Street.
It's early, and the only people around are those getting a head start on the day. A nervous excitement flutters in my stomach as the truck closes the distance to Avery’s parents’ place.
It’s a welcome change from the anger I’ve been carrying around for far too long.
It’s been several days since the rodeo. Since I told Avery that neither of us were running from whatever is going on between us.
Since I last spoke to her. I know I should have reached out, but I was too busy being badgered into going into the office—although it’s on the ranch, it’s not close to the main house—and between the meetings and fixing up her place time, got away from me.
But not today .
In the time since I last saw her, I’ve realized that I can’t keep wallowing in my pain.
Eventually, I have to let it go. That’s not to say it won’t linger, but it’s certainly not getting me anywhere.
Hell, Kade and Wyatt have been more than willing to tell me that.
But for the first time in a long time, I’m coming to that conclusion myself.
As hard as it is to loosen the reins, I’ve left Wyatt in charge of the ranch along with Beau, a ranch hand who’s been with us for decades.
Beau’s been given strict instructions to call me should Wy get into any shit.
Today, Avery is going to have all of my focus, just like she should have since she walked back into my life.
The route to Avery’s is ingrained in my memory, and it doesn’t take long for her parents’ house to come into view.
Not much has changed; it’s a little more worn than the last time I was here.
I’m almost ashamed to admit that I’ve avoided coming to this side of town for the last few years, just so I don’t run into Luke or Daisy—her parents.
I pull up to the curb, and the engine ticks as I kill it. My pulse pounds in my ears, but my heart is steady and sure. Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I look up at the front porch, half-expecting to see Avery waiting for me.
A flash of memory flits through my mind, and my lips twitch.
Once upon a time, she was waiting on the front porch for me, her arms folded and her lips tight.
I was late, caught up with watching my dad talk business with the Livestock Commissioner, leaving too late to ever make it on time.
She’d stomped to my truck as I raced around to open the door for her, a bunch of roses I’d stopped to pick up resting on her seat.
It’s safe to say I was forgiven for my tardiness that night, but it took a lot of apologies to earn it.
A screen door slams, bringing me back to the present.
Avery comes to a stop on the steps, adjusting the box in her grip as she tilts her head and stares at me, her brow furrowed.
She’s wearing cut off denim shorts, a white tank top, and has her blonde hair piled on top of her head. The sight leaves me breathless.
Here goes nothing .
Climbing from the truck cab, I give myself a pep talk as I head toward her. “Hey. Morning.”
“Hi.” She draws the word out, her confusion at my presence lacing the word and settling in my stomach. “I-uh… I thought Autumn was coming.”
Tugging off my baseball cap, I run my fingers through my hair and squeeze the back of my neck with one hand, while the other flexes around the bill of my hat. “She was, but I told her I’d help you move. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh.” Avery shakes her head, and her features soften. “Okay. I don’t mind at all.”
I rock back on my heels as an awkwardness settles between us for a moment.
Oh shit .
I’m supposed to be helping, not standing around like a fool. Springing into action, I take the box from Avery and carry it to the truck bed. She returns to the house, and I follow, taking the steps two at a time.
The house smells of lemon polish and the lavender scented pouches I know Daisy leaves dotted around.
Boxes line the hallway, and Avery picks up another, handing it to me.
My fingers brush against hers as I take it.
Our eyes lock, and her pupils dilate a fraction.
She felt it too, that current that passed between us.
Avery clears her throat, turning her attention to the box closest to her. “Thank you for helping. Mama went a bit overboard when I told her about Autumn’s place. She pulled out all sorts of things from storage. I’m not even sure what’s in half of these boxes.”
I chuckle, following her to the truck because that sounds exactly like the Mrs. Daisy I knew and loved.
We fall into an easy rhythm until the back of my truck is packed up and we’re on the road to her new home.
It takes four trips, with Autumn’s help, to get everything into the apartment from the truck. It’s small, but it suits Avery. Light filters in through the big front windows in the living room. I can picture her on the couch, strumming her guitar as the sun pours in, casting a golden glow over her.
The thought sends a wave of anxiety through me, and I suck in a breath, forcing the feeling away.
It has no place here. But will I ever get back to feeling how I used to at the thought of her music?
Will the pride ever return, or will I always have fear in my chest at the thought of her choosing it over me again?
I set the last box down inside the living room. Autumn had to go back to the coffee shop for the lunchtime rush, so it’s just the two of us, and I’ve been turning over the words in my mind again and again. How do I even broach the subject? How do I ask her on a date without screwing it up?
“That’s it,” I say, pulling a cloth from my pocket and wiping the sweat from the back of my neck.
Avery looks around at the boxes stacked around the room.
She stuffs her hands in her back pockets and worries her bottom lip.
It’s been torture walking up the stairs behind her all morning.
The gentle sway of her hips and the rounded curve of her ass have left me in a perpetual state of arousal.
But I’ll have to sort that out later. It’s definitely a me problem, and she has enough going on with her move to have to deal with me too.
“Thank you for your help today. You didn’t have to, so I really appreciate it.”
I shrug, looking away from her. “You’d do the same for me.”
She lets out a soft laugh. “Would I?”
“Yeah, you would.” I grin because we both know I’m right.
We fall quiet, the silence stretching between us much like it did earlier in the day, except this time, it’s a little less awkward.
Avery dips her chin, before looking up at me from under her lashes. “I need to go grocery shopping. I’m starving.”
“Want company?” I ask, internally scalding myself as soon as the words are spoken. Company with what, Grayson? I’m trying to ask her out for dinner or lunch, not grocery shopping.
Her eyes snap to mine, a groove forming between her brows. “For groceries?”
I lick my lips, an easy grin spilling across my face. “Sure. But I also meant for a meal. With me.”
She blinks once, twice, three times, like she’s trying to process what I’ve just said, and it’s not quite computing.
Her gaze jumps to the boxes stacked behind me, then back to my face.
There’s a pause, like she’s weighing up the risks of what I’m asking and trying to decide if it’s worth it. “Like… a date?”
Slowly, I close the gap between us, giving her time to move away, but she doesn’t.
I cup her cheek, stroking the apple with my thumb.
She leans into my palm like it’s second nature.
Like she missed my touch. “Yeah, Ave. No barns or truck cabs, just you and me, getting to know these versions of ourselves. It doesn’t have to mean anything if we don’t want it to.
We’re both consenting adults who clearly can’t keep their hands off each other, so why not? ”
Avery’s gaze darts around my face, like she’s looking for any sign that what I’m saying might not be true. She won’t find anything. I’m all in with her; I always have been.
As I wait for her answer, the reality that she might say no threatens to break something inside me. I won’t push her if that is her decision though; too much has passed between us for me to do that.
It feels like an eternity before she lets out a breath that sounds like relief. “Okay.”
The word is barely audible, but I’m silently screaming with delight. There was a time when she would have said yes to anything I asked without a second thought, and maybe this version of her is more cautious. But damn, if it doesn’t feel like this could be the start of something real .
Keeping my cool, because I really need her to be sure, I ask, “Yeah?”
A smile curves her lips, soft but a little unsure. “Yeah.”
Dipping my head, I dust my lips over hers before putting some space between us. If I take any more, I know I won’t be able to stop myself.
Everything isn’t fixed between us, but this is a step in the right direction, and I’ll be damned if I’ll blur it with sex. No matter how much I crave her.
Walking backward toward the door with an idea forming in my mind, I say, “Saturday. Noon. Wear something you can ride a horse in.”
I leave her apartment with her smile burned into my memory and a date to plan that will sweep her off her feet.