by Jamie Beck
“When will I see you next?” Grey nonchalantly played with the ends of her hair.
“They leave in a couple of days.” She brushed his bangs out of his eyes.
“Two more days?” He scowled.
“Maybe I can sneak away and meet you for lunch.” She eased from his arms. “But right now I’ve got to run.”
“Guess I’m stuck going out with Trip tonight.”
Avery frowned. “Maybe you two will bump into the woman you took climbing today.”
She closed her eyes, wishing she could retract her childish, jealous remark. Her cheeks heated, and only grew warmer when she opened her eyes and saw Grey’s smirk.
“You’re wondering if she was pretty, aren’t you?” He tilted his head and smiled the warmest, most sincere smile she’d seen. “Truthfully, she was cute. But no one’s as cute as you, Bambi. I’m not Matt. You can trust me, okay?”
“I trust you. I just don’t trust her, or other women—or that gigolo of a best friend you’ve got dragging you around town.”
“Don’t rag on my buddy. He’s not forcing anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. As far as I can tell, so far everyone’s been plenty happy with the arrangement.”
“Hmph.” Avery grimaced, imagining Trip and Grey together, surrounded by women eager to seduce either man. “Maybe it’s a little early to discuss this,” she said, gesturing between them while hating the catch in her voice, “but I’m assuming we’re exclusive. I mean, we’re together now, right?”
“Damn straight we are.” Grey glared at her, apparently aggravated by the mere thought of her running around with anyone else. He hugged her tight against his body. “You’re mine.”
Avery didn’t enjoy being thought of as a possession. However Grey’s Neanderthal declaration curled her toes in a good way.
“Don’t worry about tonight.” Grey kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s just beer and pool.”
“Famous last words.”
Chapter Eighteen
Later that evening, Grey followed Trip into Grizzly’s, then shuffled up to the bar, antique wood floors creaking beneath his every step. Hammered copper trims and smoky mirrors gave the old bar a rosy glow. Too bad it stank like stale beer. Thankfully the place was fairly empty, which meant Trip might not want to stick around too long.
“Two Red Rockets.” Trip slid a twenty on the bar and took a seat next to Grey. “Hey, buddy, if you’re gonna make it as my wingman, you need to smile a little.”
“I’m here for a beer and round of pool. Period.” The last thing Grey needed was to be stuck in the middle of Trip and a group of rabid women.
When the bartender arrived with their drinks, Grey might not have noticed him had the guy not gawked while handing him a bottle. The tall blond looked familiar, but it took another minute for Grey to work out where he’d seen him. More importantly, why he remembered that face at all. Matt.
Apparently Avery’s ex really had decided to move back to town. Possessiveness coiled around Grey’s chest like a python. He sized Matt up when the guy turned his back. Matt looked to be an inch or two taller than him, well built, and probably considered good-looking by women. An unwelcome image of Avery wrapped in that man’s arms drifted through his mind, kicking open a nest of fire ants in his gut.
That jerk knew how Avery looked when she got fired up. Knew how she sounded when she laughed real low. Knew how she looked naked. Worst of all, Matt knew how she felt cradled against his skin. Push it aside.
Trip, who clearly didn’t recognize Matt, raised his bottle in a toast. “To living single and drinking double.”
“Original?” Grey clanked his bottle and took a swig, hoping the cold beer would dilute the acid in his stomach. Yet Matt’s presence loomed behind them, causing the hairs on Grey’s body to prickle.
“Nah.” Trip sipped his beer, eyeing the young guys playing pool in the corner. “David Lee Roth.”
“That’s random as hell.” Grey focused on his friend rather than obsess about Avery and Matt’s past. It was, after all, her past—and a painful one, at that.
Trip shrugged and adjusted his cowboy hat, his wolflike gaze inspecting the few women in the joint. Grey knew a few things about his friend. One: Trip wasn’t interested in a relationship that lasted more than a few hours, so a great personality wasn’t a draw. Two: the guy had a definite preference for blondes, preferably ones with big boobs and long legs. And three: all the women in the bar were garden-variety brunettes who, while possibly being great women, wouldn’t capture Trip’s interest tonight.
Given his knowledge, Grey wasn’t surprised when Trip turned to Matt and asked, “Where the hell are all the women?”
“Probably hiding from you.” Matt delivered the line in a playful tone, but Grey caught a whiff of malice.
Hypocrisy must be another of that lousy cheater’s traits.
“Oh joy. A frustrated stand-up comic working as a bartender.” Trip smiled, and pulled another long draw from his bottle. Few men seemed as comfortable in their own skin as Trip. He might be a bit of a cad with women, but he was honest with them and fun to be around, so Grey knew Trip didn’t give a shit about Matt’s opinion. Or anyone else’s.
“I’m going to investigate the situation at the pool table. See if we can barge in on the game.” Trip glanced at Grey’s knee. “Wanna come, or stay put until it’s time to play?”
“Stay put.” Either way would be uncomfortable, but curiosity kept Grey parked in front of Matt. Avery had believed she’d loved this guy at some point, and Grey wanted to figure out why. Especially if Matt actually intended to try to woo her back. If Grey had to fight for Avery, he needed to know his enemy.
The minute Trip sauntered away, Matt crossed to the sink closest to where Grey sat.
“Looks like you’re babying that knee. Do something to hurt it recently?” Matt cleaned a glass, keeping his eyes on his work.
Grey had never had much interest in playing games with people. Now he knew Matt had a sneaky side. No great shock, considering his history, and how he played the whole Outpost thing with Avery and her brother. Grey despised sneaky. Did Avery like sneaky? “I know who you are, so you can drop the phony banter. If you’ve got something to say, say it plain.”
Matt held up his hands. “Relax, Lowell. I’m just making small talk.”
Grey glanced over his shoulder at Trip before finishing his beer. His grandfather once taught him the best way to win a battle of wits was to stay quiet long enough to let the other guy hang himself. He’d followed that good advice for most of his life. No reason to stop now.
“I’m surprised you’re here trolling for action with your partner instead of spending time with Avery.” Matt rested his butt on the back bar and crossed his arms.
Grey’s stony silence provoked Matt, just as his grandfather had promised.
“Then again, her folks are here, right?” Matt lifted off the back bar and leaned closer to Grey. “Guess you’re not high on the list of people they want to see.”
“Maybe not, but I’m probably not as low on their list as you.” Grey shoved the empty bottle toward Matt.
“Don’t count on it. Unlike you, I’m trying to help that family avoid financial disaster. We’ll see where things stand once all the dust settles.” Matt’s smirk hinted at some kind of inside information he was dying to share, but Grey wasn’t about to let the guy best him. At least he’d learned what he needed to know: Matt was, in fact, going after Avery and planning to use Grey’s potential lawsuit as a wedge to split them apart.
“You know, the minute I heard about how you cheated on Avery, I suspected you must be the world’s biggest dumbass. Damn if you didn’t just go and prove me right.” Grey stood up. “I wouldn’t spend much more time trying to win her back. You may have shaken her faith in men, but now she’s moved on.”
“A temporary setback, Mis
ter Rebound. I’ve got time. She’s got her rules, after all. And she’s even slower to give her heart.” Matt turned his back to tend to another customer, leaving Grey fuming and his fist itching to punch Matt in the face.
Although some smug part of Grey wanted to see Matt react to the news that she’d broken her rules about sex for him, he’d never betray her trust. He wanted to dismiss Matt’s dig, but like a splinter beneath his skin, the harder he tried to get it out, the deeper it burrowed.
“Grey!” Trip called out, waving him to the corner of the room. “We’re up!”
The next morning, Grey squinted in the sunlight as he biked toward Donner’s office. A few months ago, he’d been traveling the same road on a different bike. Now planters spilling over with flowers replaced the mounds of snow on the sidewalks. Gravel—not ice—littered the edges of the road. The air, devoid of the crispness of winter, carried a woodsy scent laced with wild herbs.
Grey arrived at Donner’s, stopping two doors down to lock his bike to the public rack on that block. As he strolled toward the clinic, his phone vibrated against his thigh. Adler.
“This is Grey.”
“Grey, it’s Warren. Do you have a minute? I’ve gotten a response from the Outback’s insurance company.”
Grey stopped. This could be it. The answer that would eliminate a significant roadblock between him and a future with Avery. He sat on the bench in front of the bakery next door to the clinic. “I hope you’ve got good news.”
“They’ve offered you ninety thousand dollars to settle your claim against the bar.” Warren fell silent while Grey’s stomach dropped.
“I thought you said something about one fifty.” Grey scrubbed his free hand through his hair, as if he could rub away the oncoming headache.
“One fifty’s the maximum anyone can collect on this claim in Colorado. But I also told you Dram shop cases are tough to win. This is a good offer.”
Grey’s lawyer would take a third of the payout, leaving him with sixty grand. Sixty instead of the one hundred he’d planned to clear. Sixty, which made it harder—plain stupid, according to Trip—to settle for Andy’s insurance offer of only twenty-five thousand.
He glared at his knee, which ached from yesterday’s climb and this morning’s cycling. Dammit. “So I guess I should take the money.”
“We’re not going to get a better offer, and I can’t guarantee we’d get more if we filed a lawsuit. In all likelihood, we’d wait forever for a costly trial and you’d end up with less.”
He heaved a sigh. A bird in the hand. “Take it, then.”
“Good decision. Don’t forget, you still have a claim against the driver. Once your doctor signs off on your MMI, we’ll be able to determine the full extent to which this injury has an impact on your future. After we estimate your damages, we’ll file your suit. In the meantime, this settlement with the Outpost will give you some cash in your pocket and help you offset the medical expenses.”
“Listen, I’m late for my therapy appointment. Do you need me to come in and sign anything?”
“Yes, you’ll need to sign a release. I’ll call you once I’ve had time to review it.”
“Thanks, Warren.”
Grey shoved his phone back inside his pocket, rested his elbows on his thighs, and hung his head in his hands. When would he catch a damned break?
He sat up, twisting his neck side to side, recalling Matt’s sneering face. Inhaling slowly, he gave himself a mental kick in the ass. There’d be no ifs when it came to his skiing again . . . only a when. No way would he let his knee and stupid money stuff be what kept him and Avery apart.
He marched into Donner’s clinic, more determined than ever to overcome his injury.
Avery snatched the take-out bag of chicken enchiladas from her passenger seat, and strolled through Backtrax’s front door. “Grey? You back there?”
When she got to the back office, she found it locked. Spinning on her heel, she called out again. “Grey?”
She wandered up the interior stairwell and knocked on the back door of his apartment. Shaman’s muffled bark greeted her, and then she heard Grey’s voice through the door. “Get back, boy.”
The lock clicked and the door swung wide open. “Hey.” He smiled and held up a finger while speaking to someone on the phone. “Ma, I’ll call you back. Avery’s here now.” After a brief silence, he said, “You will when you come visit.” He grinned and nodded. “Okay, love you, too. Bye.”
Setting the bag down, she clasped her hands in front of her body. Knowing him, his easy declaration of love for his mom didn’t shock her. “Is your mom coming to visit?”
“No immediate plans.” He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her.
“How often do you two talk?”
“Almost daily.”
“Really?”
“I’m her only child. She misses me. It makes her happy when I call and tell her about my life, my work, you.” He nuzzled her neck. “Why are we talking about my mom?”
“I can’t believe she already knows about me.”
“I told her about you a while ago, before things got personal.” Grey eased away and tilted his head. “I take it from your expression you still haven’t told your family a thing about us.”
“Not yet.” She avoided his gaze and removed lunch from the bag. “Chicken enchiladas, Christmas-style,” she said, waving her hand over the tin loaded with green and red sauce.
“Smells good.” He glanced at the tins, then narrowed his gaze on her. “Can I ask why you’re still hiding our relationship?”
“Andy knows. But there’s nothing to gain from adding to my parents’ tension right now.”
“Is that the truth, or do you still have doubts about me—about us?” Grey sighed. “I need to know if we’re in this together before I get in any deeper.”
Could she trust him?
“A hearing date has been set in Andy’s criminal case. Early July.” As usual, thinking about her brother going to jail triggered some sort of speaking disorder—one that fired sentences out in rapid succession without any breath in between. “We can’t believe his lawyers haven’t been able to negotiate a plea. No reduction in the charges, no elimination of jail time. Honestly, Grey, aren’t there worse criminals out there that the prosecutors should be putting in jail? And the bills from the law firm are putting a strain on all of us.” Grey wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb, effectively stopping her rant. “Sorry. I know you’ve got your own set of problems related to this situation.”
“Don’t apologize for being worried about your family. Besides, your problems are my problems.” He hugged her again, his firm embrace somehow steadying her erratic emotions. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything to help.”
When she stiffened a bit, he asked, “What? Is there something I can do?”
The memory of his disappointment when she’d last inserted herself in his legal matters flashed like a road construction warning light. “Never mind. Where are the plates? Let’s reheat this food. I have to get back in thirty-five minutes.”
“Avery, stop.” He gently squeezed her arms. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“It’s more like what I don’t want you to do, or to have already done.” She glanced at the floor, shifting her weight to one leg.
Grey reached out to tip up her chin. “I promise you can trust me.”
His gray eyes focused on her face, scanning every millimeter as if he were searching for the key to unlock her thoughts, making it impossible for her to hide.
“Andy thinks maybe you’re one of the reasons his lawyers are having trouble with the prosecutor. I told him you wouldn’t do that. I know he’s not your favorite person, but you didn’t go to the prosecutor and insist they play hardball, did you?”
“No.” Grey stepped back, his expression disheartened. “I told you from the
beginning, I’m not out to hurt anyone. Especially not someone so important to you. The only things that matter to me are you and my business. Seeing your brother rot in jail isn’t going to do squat for my bottom line, and it sure wouldn’t make me someone you’d want to spend time with, would it?”
Even though she’d known in her heart Grey wouldn’t seek vengeance, hearing him confirm it lifted her spirits. She hugged him tight. “Thank you.”
His arms locked around her waist. “Listen carefully, Bambi. I’ll never intentionally hurt you or the people you love. No matter what.” He kissed her head and then nuzzled against her neck. “Feel better?”
She nodded, inhaling the scent of his skin. Funny how his scent settled her so quickly. If her stomach hadn’t growled, she could’ve stayed locked in his embrace all day. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
“Okay.” He used a spatula to plate the food to reheat in the microwave. Although he’d just been cuddling her and making promises, his furrowed brow indicated discomfort.
“You seemed preoccupied.”
He waved it off. “Nothing, just thinking about stuff.”
“Stuff? Did something happen this morning, or last night with Trip?”
“Both, actually.” He grabbed silverware from a messy drawer and set it on the counter. Rubbing one hand over his face, he sighed. “I heard from my lawyer this morning about a settlement offer from the OS. It’s not as much as I’d been counting on.”
“Oh.” She waited, afraid of saying the wrong thing. Of course, Grey’s anxious expression proved they both realized this news could affect her entire family down the road.
“If I knew for sure I’d be skiing again—this year or, at the very least, next—I’d take your brother’s insurance money and call it a day. But I might not be able to lead out-of-bounds teams again, ever. If that’s the case, I need a lot more compensation because then this injury truly screws with my life—personally and professionally. Between my dyslexia and lack of college education, I’ve got no plan B. So, I can’t settle until I know about this knee—or win the lottery.” He accompanied the deadpan delivery with a quirk of one side of his mouth. “I asked Donner for a prognosis, but he won’t make any guarantees, just like you never would.”