Page 14

Ava

M av hasn’t even been home a couple of minutes before a knock sounds at our door. I watch his shoulders dip in resignation. He looks beat. I'm guessing the last few days away were long ones. He was on the road again, and I found myself missing him the entire week.

“You planning on getting that or are we supposed to pretend to not be home?” I say over my propped-up feet.

The futon is growing on me. Though still uncomfortable, it’s nice being able to have my own personal couch.

Setting the book I’m reading down on my chest, I cock my head at him, waiting for an answer.

“I was debating on the second, but since they probably heard you…” He turns back to the door and takes the two short steps to grab and twist the handle.

“Yeah, because my voice is what gave it away, not the lights being on, genius.” I laugh at his train of thought.

“Smartass,” he bites out, but I don’t miss the smirk that follows, negating the annoyance in his tone. Sparring with him is my favorite, though I would never admit it. I miss it when he’s gone.

When he's on the road, the cabin feels too quiet. I've grown fond of our late-night movie sessions. It isn’t lost on me that we both not-so-discreetly find excuses to touch or cuddle. His company and presence is surprisingly comforting, leaving me craving more time with him .

The door is open for no more than three seconds before Rhett and Weston bust through. “What are you guys doing here?” Mav asks.

The grin on Weston’s face tells me that he is up to no good. “Well, since you've been ignoring our phone calls and refusing to hang out with us, we are taking matters into our own hands.”

“Hey, Ava,” Rhett says, a small grin on his face. “Sorry to interrupt, but we are taking your roomie out. We’re going down to Luke’s and you're going to have fun, dammit.” He points to Mav, who just holds up his hands.

“Apparently, you’ve been rubbing off on me,” Maverick says to me with a wink, a jab at my grandma-ish traits.

He walks over to his side of the house and strips off his button-up shirt, leaving him in a white tee.

He exchanges it for a clean blue one with a checkered pattern before pulling out a different pair of boots.

“What? Were your other ones not good enough?” I ask because to me, a pair of boots is a pair of boots.

“There’s working boots, and there’s show boots. These are for show.” He taps his heels together like he is Dorothy.

Weston heaves out a sigh. “Wow, I expected this to be a whole lot harder.”

Mav shrugs his shoulders. “A cold beer sounds nice. But we’re coming home at a decent hour.” Somehow, I doubt that no matter what Mav says now, he’ll be out until the boys decide he’s had enough fun.

“Yeah, we will be the deciders of that,” Weston says.

“Have fun, boys. Call me if you need a ride,” I say, shaking my head as the boys start to push Maverick out of the cabin.

The door starts to close, and I can hear Maverick’s voice, “Sheesh, I’m coming! ”

When the door clicks shut, I can’t help but laugh to myself.

Poor guy. Hopefully tomorrow, he’ll be able to get some rest. But knowing him, he’ll be up at dawn and working on whatever Jack needs.

He really is something else. And much to my dismay, I think I like whatever that something else is.

We are so different but similar at the same time.

Getting comfortable, I swing my favorite sage-green plush blanket over my legs and settle in. Three pages into my read, I am interrupted by a knock on the door, and before I can even get myself off the futon, Aspen is busting through.

Sitting up in a hurry, I ask, “Uhm, what are you doing here?”

“Sorry, I should have waited for you to open the door. But I wasn’t taking any chances of you turning me down. We’re going out.” She shuts the door behind her and smiles at me.

This must be how Mav felt. Suddenly, I am regretting the glee I found at his turmoil.

I was really looking forward to finishing my book and going to bed at the respectable hour of nine, maybe eight-thirty.

When I think the words over in my head, I realize I really am a grandma.

Here I am, finishing out my twenties like I’m in my sixties.

I don’t know what comes over me, but I find myself leaping off the couch. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“Really?” She looks genuinely surprised. “I never see you leave this cabin. I thought for sure I’d have to beg you for at least an hour.”

“I’ve decided maybe I do need to live a little.” Though preferably not as much as the last time I agreed to go out. But it’s not like I can get any ‘more’ married. So, it can’t get much worse.

“Great.” I realize she is holding a duffle bag and feel a fresh new wave of fear wash over me.

She reminds me so much of Erin, who also terrifies me.

Mostly because we are different; while I enjoy laying low and blending in, she likes to live out loud and actually be seen in every room she is in.

“Now we just need to get you ready. If I am bringing you on the scene with me, we are going to do it with a bang.”

Lord, help me.

Forty-five minutes later, my long blonde hair is expertly curled into loose waves that cascade down my back. My blue eyes are rimmed with smudged liner and lashes so full that if I bat them fast enough, I might actually take flight.

Aspen doesn’t look too bad, either. Her chocolate brown hair is tied into a high pony with the ends perfectly curled. She rocks it with her denim skirt and pink cowboy boots. She and Erin would be fast friends, if not by their personalities, then by their shared style.

She has me dressed in a red sundress that hugs my upper body.

Admittedly, I like the way I look. Feminine and a little edge of sexy with the way my breasts sit high.

She brought me a pair of boots, hoping we would be the same size.

I didn’t think to bring the boots I bought for Vegas, though, those are loosely considered cowboy boots since they were purchased from Target.

Running my hands over where my red dress flares at my hips, I take one last deep breath.

“Alright, show me what a night in Windy Peaks looks like.”

The front of the bar looks exactly how I imagined a country bar would. Its exterior is made up of old weathered wood and faux saloon doors. And I must admit, I really like it. The small town here was nothing like I expected, but I’m starting to wonder if it was something I needed.

Aspen's steps come to a halt and she grabs my arm just before we walk in. “So, I need to warn you. You will be the shiny new toy here tonight. It’s pretty rare for a new pretty face to show up. And, well,” she gestures her hand from my head to my toes, “you’re hot.

And they’re going to notice.” I almost blanch at being called hot.

I’ve never thought of myself as ugly or unattractive per se, but kind of just there, I guess. Nothing special.

We take one step into the bar and I realize she was right. Whether my nerves are making me acutely aware of how it feels like every pair of eyes are on us, or if it’s actually happening, but it causes my steps to falter. I let out a quick breath, readying myself. This will be fun.

My eyes scan the crowd, taking note of everything.

The two old guys huddled next to the bar, completely unaware of what’s going on around them.

The two girls next to them, giving Aspen and me an apprehensive look.

As if we are stepping on their turf, which we might be.

The dance floor has a few couples spinning around to whatever song is playing on the speakers.

My eyes continue to search until they land on a pair of steely grey eyes.

The nerves that were rising come to a quick halt.

My eyes stay locked on him and the heat behind them.

He doesn’t spare Aspen a glance. The way his eyes stay locked on me fills my confidence right back up.

His presence here gives me a certain comfort I didn’t know I was searching for .

Aspen’s oblivious to it all, helping me take off the denim coat and hanging it up on the old coat rack to our left. “Alright, let’s go wreck the boys’ party.”

That's an idea I can get behind; being closer to Mav has never sounded quite so appealing. We weave our bodies through the crowd. There are more people here than I would have expected, but we soon make our way to the back, where the boys are playing pool.

“Hello, boys.” Aspen’s smile stretches across her face. “We’ll play next.”

My head whips around to look at Aspen. “Uh, I don’t need to play. I’ve never played pool a day in my life.”

She quickly dismisses my concern. “Well, being that you are a current resident of Windy Peaks, you’re going to have to learn. It’s basically a law.”

My eyes can’t help but roll because that is absurd. I look over to Maverick for confirmation. His shoulders shrug up as he responds, “She’s right.”

“Okay, well, just know I’m a really sore loser.” Having to scrape my way through adulthood has made me a bit competitive. It’s why I graduated at the top of my class. There wasn’t a lot I could control, but kicking ass was one of them. So, I did.

“You and Weston both,” Rhett says. Weston flips him off as he walks up to Aspen and gives her a hug.

“What brings you ladies out tonight?” Weston asks, his arm still loosely draped over his sister’s shoulder.

“I thought it would be a travesty for Ava to never get to experience Luke’s and, well, we were bored.” She acts as if she speaks for us both because I was perfectly content with my book. Though I have to admit this might end up being more fun than I had planned for myself .

“Well then, you better get to getting.” Weston gently pushes Aspen to the table. Feeling very out of my element, I look around.

“Do you want me to help you?” Maverick asks. My nose immediately scrunches up at the word help. Little does he know I’m a professional at figuring shit out on the fly.