During dessert, as they chowed down on absolutely perfect pumpkin pie with heavy dollops of freshly whipped cream, Elise Bravo announced her engagement to Jed Walsh, the world-famous thriller writer, who’d returned to Justice Creek the year before after almost twenty years away. Clara and Dalton brought out champagne, and Jed got up and made a really beautiful toast to his bride-to-be, one that had them all laughing through happy tears.
And finally, after the dessert was cleared away, most everyone lingered to visit a little longer. Dalton took Kiera off for her bath, and Sylvie and Annabelle played “Super Mario Kart” with Darius and Annabelle’s dad, Quinn. Then the two girls went back upstairs for more fun in their fort.
At eight, when Ava went up to tell Sylvie it was time to go home, she found them both sound asleep in the cave of blankets. Gently, she folded back the covers and gathered her daughter into her arms. Chloe appeared then, looking for Annabelle. They carried the girls back down.
Sylvie fussed as Ava coaxed her into her coat and hat and then went right back to sleep as soon as Ava picked her up again. Clara appeared, and Ava gave her a one-armed hug of thanks as she went out the door.
Outside, a light snow was falling. Ava tipped her head up to the dark sky and caught a snowflake on her tongue. She thought of Darius, and the strangest sort of calm settled over her.
Sylvie sighed in her arms. Ava gathered her closer and moved on to the car.
* * *
Half an hour later, just as she finished putting Sylvie to bed, her cell phone rang.
It was Darius. “Just checking to see that you got home all right.”
“We’re here. We’re fine.”
“You certainly are.”
She laughed. “I’m not even going to ask who gave you my number.”
“Like it’s a state secret. I think there’s a stack of your business cards at every restaurant and shop in town.” It was true. She left a trail of business cards wherever she went, and she’d acquired more than one customer because they’d grabbed her card at a checkout counter. “Okay.” All of a sudden, he sounded grim. “You’re too quiet. Don’t you dare back out on me, Ava.”
“I’m not.” She realized she meant it. The calm that had settled over her when she carried her daughter out Clara’s front door had followed her home. “No stalling, I promise. We’re making this happen.”
“Come out to my place.” He owned a beautiful piece of property a few miles from town—or at least, his sisters claimed it was beautiful. She’d never been there.
And she wasn’t ready to go there quite yet. “Tomorrow,” she said, without stopping to think it through. “I’m spending the morning finishing up the staging of a house for Chloe. It’s out at that new Starview development, a Bravo Construction house. You take Mountainview west and—”
“I know where it is. What time?”
She would be there good and early and hoped to have everything done by lunchtime. “Noon?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Great—I mean, good. I mean...”
“Ava.” His voice was like raw honey dripping fresh from the comb.
“Uh, yeah?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes. Good. Perfect.” She heard a click on the line, and he was gone.
* * *
The next day, Sylvie’s sitter arrived at 8:30 a.m., so Ava got to the Starview house before nine.
Chloe had all the room plans uploaded to a private-access area of her website. She’d also come in early yesterday, unwrapped all the late-arriving stuff and had even gotten most of the furniture, art and accessories moved to the various rooms where each would be used. The beds, bureaus, larger tables and cabinets were all in place in each of the rooms.
And the three Christmas trees—one in the living room, one on the dining room sideboard and another in the family room—were up and fully decorated. Ava loved that Chloe had put such time and care into the Christmas stuff. Seasonal touches made potential buyers feel at home—and that was the whole point. Whoever finally bought this house had to experience it as the home they’d been looking for. Toward that end, Chloe had also provided acres of lighted garlands and some serious holiday table decor, which Ava would deal with today.
She turned up the heat a little, made a pot of coffee, plugged her old iPod into the dock Chloe had left on a side table and cranked up the Christmas tunes. Via her tablet, she accessed the room plans and got right to work.
By eleven thirty she had everything done. She stood in the beautiful living room with its giant Christmas tree that reached all the way to the vaulted ceiling and longed for a shower. Hanging pictures, draping garlands and moving chairs around was sweaty work. Her stomach growled with hunger.
And in half an hour, Darius would arrive to have sex with her.
Seriously, what had she been smoking to decide they should meet here and now?
She swiped a sweaty curl of hair off her forehead and pictured herself trying to seduce Darius all sticky from a hard morning’s work as her stomach rumbled, demanding lunch. What was up with her? Usually, she thought of everything. But today, she couldn’t even remember to bring a sandwich.
Her inexperience with casual sex was definitely showing. She had no time to go grab a burger or to run home for a quick shower.
Then again, she had hung gorgeous, thick designer towels in each of the bathrooms. And if, say, she was to pop into the shower for a quick rinse and then to use one of those pretty towels to dry off, she could easily take that towel home, run it through the washer and bring it back tomorrow with no one the wiser.
Ava headed for the master bath fast, before she had a chance to rethink the appropriateness of any of this. By ten of twelve, she’d cleaned up a little, wiped down the shower, primped her hair and makeup and carried the soggy towel out to her Suburban so she wouldn’t forget to take it home with her.
At a minute before noon, the doorbell rang.
Utterly breathless with her heart in her throat, she opened the door to him. He had a big white Dairy Queen bag and a box with two large soft drinks propped up in it. His face was freshly shaved, and he wore a shearling jean jacket over a gray sweater and a plaid shirt, blue jeans and lace-up work boots.
She couldn’t decide which looked better—him or that white Dairy Queen bag, which gave off the incomparable aroma of burgers and fries. “You brought lunch,” she whispered in wonder.
One wide shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “You said I wasn’t allowed to take you out, and I thought you might be hungry.” His breath plumed in the cold air.
“I’m starving.”
“Well, good then. Cheeseburgers, fries and two Cokes.”
“I worship you.”
He grinned. “I like the sound of that.”
She peered past his shoulder. “Where’s your F-150?” She stepped back to let him in.
He followed her to the open-plan kitchen. “You said no one could know. I thought, what if some random family member showed up and saw my truck? So I left it around the corner.”
“You’re clearly quite the expert at sneaking around.”
“That, I don’t like the sound of much.” At the breakfast nook table, he set down the bag and the box of drinks, hung his jacket on the back of a chair and sat down.
She took the chair across from him. “About the sneaking