by Jamie Beck
“If only I would’ve stopped by your table and talked to you that night, everything would’ve been better for all of us.” Although she heard sincere regret in his voice, she couldn’t look up at him.
Shaman barked in the distance, having found something of interest near a bush. Without uttering another word, Grey threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand.
A perfect, simple gesture of friendship.
She welcomed his silence while her gaze remained glued on their interwoven fingers. The heat from his hand spread up her arm and through her core, coiling low in her abdomen.
Desire. Forbidden, risky, uncontrollable desire.
For a few seconds, she closed her eyes and pretended they were different people sitting on a different bench in some different town with no connection to anything or anyone but each other. Pretended Grey might be that one-in-a-million guy who wouldn’t try to change her or make her helpless.
The fantasy didn’t last long. Guilt crashed over her when she thought of her dad’s angry face, her career, and Kelsey’s hopes, so she slipped her hand free and cleared her throat.
She stared at the worn leather-and-silver bracelet she’d noticed him wearing during therapy. The one obscuring the tattoo encircling his wrist. A tattoo she’d grown quite interested in recently.
“You always wear that bracelet.” She dabbed at her eye before flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “Are you purposely covering your tattoo?”
He extended his arm and twisted the bracelet around once or twice. “Sort of.”
“Why?”
His brows pinched together, easy smile fading. “Don’t like looking at it.”
“Why not get it removed?”
His gaze grew distant, shifting toward the skyline. “’Cause I don’t want to forget, either.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” She tilted her head and crossed her arms to keep herself from touching the bracelet.
“Does to me.” Grey shuttered his eyes once more. He shifted his body, as if preparing to stand, just as a fat raindrop splattered on Avery’s nose. Followed by another and another.
“Dang it!” Avery wiped the spatter from her cheek.
Grey’s head whipped toward her, revealing an adorably surprised expression.
“Did you just say ‘dang it’?” Grey chuckled.
“I don’t like swearing.” Avery shrugged, resisting the urge to squirm.
He stared at her like she was some sort of quaint alien species he’d newly discovered. She braced for a judgmental comment about her being old-fashioned—prim, prudish, snooty—like Matt used to tease.
“Good to know.” Grey whistled for Shaman, apparently unbothered by her straitlaced standards or the raindrops pelting his head. He stuck another lollipop in his mouth and said, “Well, dang it, A-vree. Guess I’m gonna get soaked.”
She couldn’t repress her smile at his devilishly cute grin. Once again, he’d set off a series of somersaults in her stomach. I’m in trouble.
“My car is just two blocks away. I’ll run for it and pick you up on the sidewalk right over there.” She pointed then stood and yanked her jacket hood over her head. “Be right back.”
Three minutes later, she pulled up to the curb to ferry the now-drenched man and his dog home. Shaman whimpered and sniffed at her car, quickly filling the space with doggy odor.
Grey climbed in carefully, wincing in pain.
“You pushed too hard, didn’t you?” She shook her head.
Grey waved away her concern with his hand, quickly changing the subject. “Why am I not surprised by the color of your car?”
“What’s wrong with it?” She shifted into drive.
“Nothing.” He stared out the windshield, humming.
Avery loved her Hydro Blue Jeep Wrangler. “First my clothes, now my car. What have you got against color?”
“Nothing.” He swiveled in his seat. “I like color, especially on you.”
Wiggling his brows made him appear childlike, especially considering the lollipop stick dangling from his lips. His flirtatious manner kept her emotions knocking around like a pinball.
She shouldn’t be spending time alone with him, and it certainly shouldn’t be so enjoyable. But as long as she didn’t cross any lines and remained objective when it came to his care, she could treat him.
When she pulled up to his building, she shifted the car into park. “Let me help you deal with the dog and the crutches.”
“Sure.” He let Shaman out of the backseat. “Be warned, this place isn’t much to look at.”
Wet clothes stuck to Grey’s body. His hair hung in wavy ringlets. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight. Don’t worry; I won’t be looking at your place when there are more tempting options.
Avery hid her red cheeks by retrieving his crutches from her car. She followed Grey and Shaman up the stairs. When they entered the apartment, Shaman darted for his food bowl.
“The bathroom’s back there if you need a towel.” Grey pointed toward the back of the apartment.
“That’s okay. I should get going.” She shouldn’t be here cozying up to the man with the power to devastate her family. They’d keel over if they knew she’d spent part of her Saturday hanging out and holding hands with Grey Lowell.
She scanned the living room. Grey hadn’t been falsely modest about his apartment.
Barren. Brown. Boring.
“No wonder you tease me about color.”
“Told you.” He grinned.
Nervous tension pulsed in the air, holding her captive.
Her own soggy clothes clung to her body, making her cold and uncomfortable. She should go.
Really.
It was well past time for her to go.
Yet her stupid feet refused to budge. Being near Grey felt a little bit like being gently pulled under water by a whirlpool, one too strong to fight. She glanced around again and noticed the keyboard. “You play?”
“Yeah.” His cheeks actually turned pink for a change. “My mom’s a music teacher.”
Another interesting layer to explore. “Will you play something for me?”
He tilted his head and shrugged. “Any requests?”
“One of your favorites,” she suggested, hoping to learn something about him from his selection.
He sat on the cushioned bench, twisting the bracelet around his wrist a time or two, deep in thought. Finally, he began.
The first quick notes were played with one hand until suddenly the song burst into an unfamiliar, turbulent melody.
Affecting.
Complex.
It captured the tone of her day, making her fascinated and uncomfortable.
She watched him play the melancholy tune, the faraway look in his eyes revealing a pensive side.
“What is this?” She stepped closer, transfixed. The energy rolling off his shoulders brushed across her body, awakening some forgotten hope.
“George Winston’s ‘Sea,’” he replied without looking at her.
“I love it.” She wanted to touch him. Might have, too, if the apartment door hadn’t suddenly swung open.
“Well, hello there, drenched ones.” A giant, dark-haired god of a man in ski clothes waltzed into the living room. “Tell me, Enchantress, what magic spell did you cast to get Grey to play for you? It’s usually ‘hell no’ whenever I ask.”
The music stopped as Grey swung himself around on the bench.
“Trip, this is A-ver-ee, my PT.” He paused. “And she doesn’t like swearing.”
“Apologies, sweet therapist.” Trip held out his hand. “Pleasure’s all mine. In fact, right now I’m plotting a tumble down The Cirque so I can get in on this action.”
Oh, Trip was a player. Too bad Kelsey hadn’t fallen for his sweet talk over Grey’s less practiced
flirtations. Grey’s special blue-jeans-brand of sex appeal had its allure, but Trip was Armani-model handsome.
Together they were a lethal combo.
“All you pro skiers are smooth operators.” How utterly frustrating! In addition to all the other reasons she shouldn’t indulge illusions about Grey, she’d forgotten he belonged to that particular fraternity of womanizers. A single, thirty-something man whose idea of a “good relationship” probably involved a weekend-long fling. Just like that, she found the life jacket needed to keep the whirlpool from taking her under. “I always warn Em and Kelsey about guys like you, but they never listen.” And apparently neither do I.
“Kelsey?” Trip glanced toward Grey, chuckling, and clapped. “She’s friends with Boomerang?”
“Boomerang?” Avery scowled as she pivoted toward Grey. “What? Do you have some kind of little black book of nicknames? Boomerang is awful!”
Before he could respond, Trip broke in again, his carefree smile never faltering. “Well, you know, she keeps coming back time and again. How many texts this week, Grey?”
Grey glared at Trip, but said nothing.
“Kelsey’s a great person, if a little too enthusiastic.” Avery shook her head, glowering. “Instead of being flattered by her attention, you make fun of her?”
Grey shot Trip a death stare before responding. “She’s nice enough, just not my type.”
“Too bad you didn’t figure that out before you led her on and kissed her.” She lit up with a flash of resentment. How had she been fooled into thinking he was different from most men? Mr. Right doesn’t exist.
Trip’s brows rose. “I came up with her nickname, Avery, not Grey.”
Avery looked at Grey for confirmation. He held her gaze for two seconds then shook his head, silently confessing. Avery rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “Maybe it’s time someone came up with nicknames for you two.” Then she glanced at Trip. “Of course, I doubt your parents named you Trip.”
“Gunner Lexington the Third, at your service.” Trip bowed.
Avery’s puzzled expression must have prompted Grey to explain. “Lexington the Third . . . triple . . . Trip.”
“Ah,” she nodded, unable to keep from grinning, “now that one’s cute.”
So are you.
Grey wanted to wring Trip’s neck for busting in when he had, and for outing the whole Boomerang thing. Avery might be grinning now, but she’d been offended by that nickname.
By him.
He liked the way she’d defended her friend, but her loyalty also meant she wouldn’t hurt Kelsey by spending more time with him.
Probably just as well, considering the potential conflicts with Andy, and the fact Grey had neither the time for a relationship nor a burning desire to be devastated by love again. Given how long it had taken him to recover from a broken heart with Juliette, he’d be better off if he could just adopt Trip’s attitude toward women.
“Well, I’ve really got to be going.” When Avery looked at Trip, full of smiles and sunshine, something sharp twisted in Grey’s gut. “Nice meeting you, I think.”
“My outlook on this little town just got a whole lot better, A-ver-ee.” Trip glanced at Grey. “Where are your manners? First you don’t give her a towel, and now you aren’t walking the lady to the door?”
“It’s okay. I’m good.” When Avery’s eyes met his, she’d buttoned up all traces of emotion, like the heat that had been building between them today never existed. “See you on Monday.”
“Thanks for the ride.” Grey waved as she exited his apartment.
The second the door closed, Trip covered his heart with both hands and collapsed on the sofa. “Now I know why you’re always in such a good mood when you come home from therapy. Even her voice is cute—so feminine. Wonder what it sounds like when it gets low and throaty?”
“Hands off, Trip. I mean it.” His deadly tone brooked no argument.
Trip raised his hands. “Oh, this is good.”
“Just lay off and stay away from her. Your Boomerang remark did enough damage for the rest of the year.”
“Hey, Grey, you’d better be nice to me. After all, you’re gonna need help getting rid of Kelsey, and I may be the only guy who can do it for you.”
Grey shook his head. “You’re a man with no shame.”
“No, I wouldn’t cross any lines. But—”
“But nothing. Seriously. If you end up hurting her friend, I’ll be doubly screwed.”
Trip tapped his hands on the arms of his chair. “I haven’t seen you this worked up in . . . well, maybe never. You’ve got it bad for this girl.”
“I like her enough to protect her from you. And whatever I might feel, I’ve still got my priorities.” Grey held up his hand and ticked off his fingers. “My recovery, for one. Launching summer climbing programs, for another. And then, maybe, if she doesn’t hate me when the dust settles between her brother and me, I’ll figure out what to do about Avery.”
“Well, looks like you’ve got it all worked out.” Trip stood up and started to walk away, then stopped. “Of course, that’s assuming no one else makes her their first priority.” Then he whistled and wandered into his bedroom.
Grey filled an ice bag before slumping into the sofa cushions and turning on the television. Sure, someone else might catch her eye while he dealt with the fallout from the accident.
Time wasn’t on his side, but he had no choice. It would be impossible to get involved with her and stay objective when it came to her brother. Even if he might be willing to risk his heart again, he couldn’t afford to risk his entire future.
He twisted his bracelet, wondering what Juliette would think of Avery. His phone rang, rescuing him from his cloudy thoughts.
“Hello?”
“Grey, it’s Warren. Wanted to give you an update. I have some good, if incomplete, news about Randall’s assets. Apparently he and his sister own a house in town. Based on tax records, its market value is now probably somewhere north of five hundred thousand dollars. Once we win at trial and get a judgment, we’ll file a lien against the property to secure payment. If Andy can’t come up with the money, you can foreclose on the house.”
“You said he and his sister own it, so how is that good? Can we even force him to sell it when she owns half?”
“The short answer is yes. They own the property as tenants in common, so any judgment lien can be enforced against his share of the house. It looks like their parents transferred the title to them a few years ago, so maybe they made an outright gift. In that case, Andy could get a bank loan or possibly work out some other arrangement with his parents’ help. But that’s his problem, not yours.”
“If he needs to sell his interest to raise the money, it’s his sister’s problem, too.” Grey scratched his head. “I’m not interested in making her pay for his mistake.” Dammit, his feelings were already affecting his judgment.
“Grey, you’re the victim. You’re the one whose business is at stake. Andy’s criminal behavior is the sole cause of any loss experienced by his family.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t feel right. It’s complicated.” Hadn’t Grey identified Bambi as being a complication the instant he’d seen her? “Let’s hope he has some other assets, so I don’t need to hurt his sister just to get what I need.”
“I’ll get back to you once I have a full report.”
Grey pitched the phone onto the coffee table. Business loans, living expenses, therapy and medical bills, new programming and marketing budgets—real obligations that were piling up quickly.
If only Avery’s interests weren’t tangled with her brother’s. Then again, if her parents were rich enough to give their kids a house, maybe they had money to cover their son’s debts, too.
Adler was right about him deserving adequate compensation. This injury limited every part of his life right
now, and disrupted his sleep to boot. And as much as he couldn’t allow himself to even think it, it could keep him from the out-of-bounds ski areas for quite some time.
Grey laid his head back and closed his eyes, recalling the unspoiled minute of his day when he’d held Avery’s hand in the park. That had been nice.
Uncomplicated.
Real.
Maybe, if he were very careful and brave, he could end up with everything he needed and everything he wanted.
Chapter Five
The sun was peeking over the trees when Avery turned onto her street, her feet padding along to the beat of an old Justin Timberlake song. She entered the house whistling, thanks to the invigorating four-mile run and the fact she’d be working with Grey today.
“You’re awfully chipper.” Andy sat at the counter, drinking coffee and reading the paper. “Mind sharing your secret?”
“Spring is finally arriving. Mom and Dad have gone back to Arizona for a while.” She set her phone and earbuds on the counter and poured herself some water, conveniently omitting any mention of Grey. “Life is good.”
“Maybe for you.” Andy raised his coffee mug toward her, silently requesting a refill.
Frowning, she refilled his cup and sighed. Andy’s legal troubles were never far from his thoughts. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”
“It’s okay. Not your fault my life’s a mess.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Just got a lot on my mind. If I’m convicted of the felony, I’ll lose my job as a ski instructor, which I understand because of the background checks they do to protect clients. But I didn’t think these charges would cost me my off-season job, too.”
“You won’t be painting?” Avery picked a strawberry off his plate and popped it into her mouth. Surprisingly juicy for this time of year, so she stole another.
“Rob’s wife is a MADD volunteer. She doesn’t want him to keep me on the payroll.”
Avery’s eyes closed briefly.
“I’m sorry. I know things look bleak now, but it will get better.”