Chapter Fourteen

Gavin

After dropping Annabelle off with her mom for the next week, I head to the grocery store to stock up on food. I'm a pretty simple guy during the weeks I don't have my daughter. Hell, I keep it simple on the weeks I have her. When it's just me though, I tend to cook only a few larger meals, making enough to eat the leftovers a day or two afterward. My favorite is in the summer when I can grill, preparing plenty of meat for a few days at a time, and since Annabelle is a huge fan of hamburgers and hot dogs, they're a staple for us anytime I can fire up the ol' gas grill.

Today, however, I stick to just a few of the basics, mostly because my mind is on Ava, not prepping for lunches and dinners for this week. Besides, I'm an optimistic guy, so I can't help but wonder how much of my time I'll get to spend with Ava. I mean, there's no sense in buying for the whole week if I'm going to be able to enjoy her company a night or two.

I grab bread, lunch meat, and cheese since sandwiches are quick and easy lunches while I'm working, and then head over to the fresh meat section. Even though our grocery store is small and family owned, the meat comes from area farms. It may cost a bit more to support local, but the benefits outweigh a few extra cents per pound. Plus, we know exactly where the meat is coming from, not being shipped in like the big box chains in Hudson.

I find a package of ground beef, sausage, and a couple of pork chops that don't expire right away and toss them into the cart. Just as I'm turning into the aisle with the alcohol, I hear a familiar voice from behind.

"Well, if it isn't my handsome son."

I stop, making sure my cart is out of the way for anyone passing, and give my mom a big smile. "Well, hello, beautiful," I greet, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"I was just grabbing everything for beef and noodles and mashed potatoes for dinner tonight. Would you like to join us?" she asks.

"Uhh, I can't." I don't know why, but my heart is starting to beat a little harder in my chest. It's not like I'm doing anything wrong, but I know how private Ava is, and I don't want to be the one blurting it out in the middle of the grocery store on a Saturday morning.

Mom watches me for a few seconds before a slow smile spreads across her lips. She leans toward me and whispers, "Do you have a date?"

I barely get the confirmation out of my mouth when her eyes widen with delight and she asks, "Who?"

"None of your business, Nosy Nelly," I tease, glancing around to make sure anyone nearby can't overhear.

Her hazel eyes the same color as my own narrow. "Don't hold out on your mother. That's just rude."

Chuckling, I lean forward and rest my elbows on the handle of the shopping cart. "It's pretty new, Mom."

Holding up her hands, she replies, "Okay, okay, I get it. New means you're going to keep private about it. Fine. Have your secrets."

"It's not that it's a secret, really; just new."

"Well, I think it's great, nonetheless. You don't put yourself out there very much when it comes to the opposite sex."

My eyebrows draw up. "Seriously?"

She shrugs her delicate shoulders and smiles. "You're always having a beer with that nice young man who works for you, Max. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's nice to know you're slipping in the occasional female variety."

"Jesus," I grumble.

"I'm not saying you can't be gay!"

My eyes widen, because she sure as shit said that a hell of a lot louder than she should have.

"I would support you," she insists.

"Mom," I whisper-yell.

"I'm saying I would support and love you despite your sexuality," she states, nodding toward old Mrs. Perkins who rounds the corner and stares at me and Mom.

Mrs. Perkins takes her sweet-ass time walking past us. Could be because she's pushing eighty and doesn't get around as easily as she used to, or it's the more likely scenario and she's being nosy and hoping to catch the moment I come out of the closet in the middle of the supermarket.

When the older woman finally gets down the aisle, I lean in close and whisper, "I'm not gay."

"I know," she replies back just as quietly. "I'm just showing my support if you were."

"Thank you, really, but we're off topic."

"Yes, we are. So, about this woman…"

I hold up my hands in defeat. "I'll tell you more when there's more to tell."

She sighs. "Fine, but if this doesn't work out, I'd like to set you up."

"What? No."

"Hear me out," she starts. "Betty's granddaughter that drove her to our house on Christmas Eve. What was her name?"

My throat goes completely dry. "Ava?"

"Yes, Ava. She's Annabelle's teacher, right?" She knows the answer to this, so I don't reply. "Anyway, Grandma Zelda was chatting with Betty about, you know, dating, and Zelda may have mentioned Ava isn't seeing anyone right now."

I don't even want to know why my grandma was talking to Ava's grandma about dating. "Mom—" I start, but she cuts me off.

"All I'm saying is that bit of information might be worth looking into."

"Fine," I tell her, ready to get the hell out of the beer and wine aisle and away from the inquisition.

"Oh goodie! You two would make beautiful grandbabies."

If I were drinking, I would have choked on the liquid. "Love you, but I'm out," I tell her, slapping a chaste kiss on her cheek before grabbing my cart and spinning it around. Of course, when I do, I almost slam the front of my cart into Mrs. Perkins, who apparently returned without me realizing and happens to be browsing the alcohol selection.

"Let me know if you want her number," Mom hollers behind me. All I do is lift my arm and wave.

She did this on purpose, I know. Mom has never been quiet or shy about making her feelings for anything known. She may bite her tongue to allow us to work through our problems, but she's not afraid to give us a nudge or advice.

Funny she was suggesting I date Ava. I kept wondering if those around the table could pick up on the sparks I felt flying while we enjoyed dessert. I was sure everyone would be able to see the way my eyes couldn't be pulled away from her, despite how hard I tried. Maybe Mom noticed. She is the most observant person I know, so I wouldn't put it past her to pick up on the way I felt and so desperately tried to hide from the room. Of course, my brother could have said something too. He figured out really quick who I was crushing on. The moment she walked into the house; I was a goner.

Either he blabbed to my mom, or she was able to figure it out too.

Chances are she knew exactly what she was doing when she mentioned Ava to me. The only difference is she isn't aware of who I'm actually seeing tonight, because if she knew she would have had something to say.

I make my way to the checkout, without grabbing the bottle of wine. It's fine though. I'll just stop somewhere else and buy one on my way to Ava's. There might not be the variety at the old gas station owned by Jeb, but I'm sure I can grab a bottle of something before I wind my way toward Ava's house.

I just have to make it until four.

Maybe a few minutes before.

We'll get the work part out of the way first, and then we can enjoy the rest of our non-date date.

No, fuck that.

It's a date, and it's up to me to show her.

I pull into her driveway, and that familiar spike of adrenaline I tend to get when I'm near Ava sweeps through my veins. I haven't seen her since our Friday night together, and I'm ready. We've texted a few times since her invitation to dinner, mostly because I wanted her to know I was thinking of her. What started off as a simple message asking about her day turned into chatting for an extended period of time. And even though I would have preferred just to call her to hear the sound of her voice, I kept it to texting.

I didn't want to overwhelm her.

I can be relentless in my pursuit of the beautiful Ava Rutledge while still letting her feel at ease and comfortable.

I shut off my truck, leaving it parked in the same place I used when I was working on her house. It's directly in front of her property along the street, so she had access to her driveway. As I climb from the driver's seat, my gaze is drawn to the front door. She's standing there, her hand wrapped around the new pole I installed at the very beginning of her home improvement project.

Grabbing the bottle of white wine and small gift I found at Jeb's, I shut my door and head her way. "Hi."

She flashes me a shy grin and slowly makes her way down her front steps. "Hello. Thanks for coming."

"Of course." I meet her on the sidewalk and add, "You look gorgeous."

Her red hair is down, hanging loosely beneath a warm stocking cap, and her eyes are a bit darker with makeup. She's wearing jeans, a somewhat rarity, and a long sweater that hits just below the bottom of her coat. Her cheeks are already rosy, after only a few moments outside, and her brown eyes sparkle under the late afternoon sky.

She's simply breathtaking. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

"Thank you," she murmurs gently, pushing a strand of hair off her shoulder.

"This is for you," I tell her, holding out my hand and earning the chuckle I was hoping for. "I know it might be silly, but I've already given you flowers this week, and not that you don't deserve flowers twice, because really, you deserve them every day, but I thought I'd think outside the box."

Take a breath, you goon.

She smiles widely, palming the candy bar. "You remembered."

I'd do anything to keep seeing that smile on her face. "Of course I remembered. You said they were your favorite," I reply, speaking of the Twix bar in her gloved hand.

She gazes up at me beneath her lashes. "And yours is a Reese's. Cup, not Pieces."

"Why would they even make those little things?"

She shrugs, still holding the candy bar. "Possibly to compete with M&M's."

I give her a nod. "Makes sense." I look up at her roof. Even though I'd much rather stare at her for the next few hours, I'm here for a reason, so we might as well get the first part out of the way. "Shall we take a look around?"

"Yes," she says, falling in beside me as we make our way up on the porch first. I set the bottle of wine down on the steps so I don't have to carry it, and Ava slips the candy bar into her coat pocket.

I go through everything we did, and even though I'm certain she doesn't know some of the terminology, she nods in understanding. As we step off the porch and into the snow-covered yard, I offer her my elbow. Yes, to be gentlemanly and try to offer her stability, but also because I flat-out like the way my body feels when she's pressed against it. Her fingers, albeit being covered in warm material, are wrapped around my arm, and it only takes a few moments before the heat of her touch seeps through the layers between us.

"All right," I start, after going over a few details of her new roof, "Tell me the truth. What do you think of the metal?"

She looks up at it and grins. "I like it. I wasn't sure until I came home last night and saw the completed product. Okay, that's not true. It was starting to get dark, and I wasn't able to see it properly until this morning, but when I got a clear view in the daylight, I realized I didn't mind it at all. Yes, it's shiny, but the charcoal coloring fits the house. Even my dad likes it."

"I'm glad. And I do appreciate praise from Jude Rutledge."

"He's always singing your praises," she tells me as we start to make our way to the front porch once more. "He insisted I call you after my porch fell. He said you're the best."

I grab the bottle of wine I had set down earlier and we move inside her house. Even though I've been here before, I take in the living room with fresh eyes. It's warm and comfortable, with throw blankets and books. There're a few pictures I missed the first time around, some of the faces I recognize. Her sister and her family pose in one of the photographs and Ava with her grandma are in another. There's a group shot of her entire family together and what looks like a kid's birthday party, and an anniversary photo of her parents.

"I know I said this before, but you have a great home," I tell her, slipping off my coat.

"Thank you. My dad and I have put a lot of work into it, and I love it. Can I get you something to drink?" she offers when her coat is hanging in the front closet beside mine. We both carry our boots into the small mudroom that leads to the garage, placing them on the boot mats she has to catch the melting snow.

"May I open the bottle of wine?" I suggest.

"Please." She retrieves a bottle opener from the drawer and hands it over. Our fingers graze and that now-familiar spark of electricity zings through me.

"I'm not sure how good this'll be. There weren't too many options available at Jeb's," I tell her, popping the old cork. I stopped at the gas station and browsed his small selection of bottled alcohol, settling on this sweet white wine with a name I couldn't pronounce.

"I've never bought wine from his place."

My conversation with my mom flashes through my mind. "Well, I was planning to get it at the grocery store, but there was some Nosy Nellys watching, so I just decided to skip it. No reason to give them something to wonder about," I tell her, even though my mom is probably at home, doing just that.

Wondering.

There's gratitude in her brown eyes. I know she has a fear of being talked about in a negative light, so if I can help keep that worry from bothering her, I'll do it in a heartbeat.

I pour the moscato into two glasses she retrieves from a cabinet, hoping this stuff doesn't taste like shit. When she takes her glass, I hold mine up for a quick toast. "To a wonderful evening amongst new friends."

A faint blush burns her cheeks as she taps my glass with her own and takes a small sip. I watch her intently, studying the curves of her face and the way her lips form around the glass. I can't help but notice she doesn't grimace when the cold liquid hits her tongue, so that's a plus. Taking my own taste, I instantly catch the hint of floral mixed with the sweetness of the wine, and I realize it's not terrible. Definitely not the worst I've had.

Of course, the company's pretty fucking fantastic, so the wine could taste like goat piss and I'd still drink it as if it were the best thing I've ever had. Seeing her drop her guard minute by minute has me relaxing a bit more. I'm completely entranced with her movements, her smile, and watching the change in her eyes.

Forcing myself to stop watching her, I ask, "What smells so amazing in here?"

"Oh, uh, I found this recipe online a few weeks back and have been wanting to try it," she informs me as she sets her glass down and moves to the Crock-Pot.

"So I'm your guinea pig?"

Her cheeks blush again. "It makes so much. I can't just prepare it for myself," she insists, glancing down at the lidded Crock-Pot. "I probably should have asked what you prefer."

Propping my hip against the counter, I cross my ankles and watch her. "We discussed this early this morning when we talked about food." We texted into the wee hours of the morning, and it's not the first time. Since our non-date date last Friday, we've talked quite a bit, getting to know each other.

She sighs. "I know. You said you like everything but candied yams and bananas, which is so weird, by the way."

"They're mushy," I reason with a smile.

"Well, I'm hoping you like sausage tortellini."

"Love it." My reply is instant.

She shakes her head and grins. "I haven't even told you what's in it yet."

I lift my shoulders and take another sip of my wine. "Doesn't matter. I like about everything, and if I don't, I'll pick it out."

"Spinach?"

"Yep."

"Sun-dried tomatoes?"

"Absolutely."

"Cheese?"

"Who doesn't?"

She giggles the sweetest sound. "Well, then you should like this. It has all of the above."

"Perfect," I tell her, continuing to watch her move about her kitchen.

When she pulls two plates from the cabinet, I step forward. "Let me."

Ava retrieves a covered container of sliced bread that smells freshly baked, while I find the silverware for the table. When she places hotpot holders on the table and goes to lift the Crock-Pot bowl out of the base, I'm there to help. "Let me."

When the amazing smelling food is on the table, we take our seats. "This looks delicious, Ava. Thank you."

She gives me a small grin. "Thanks. I don't cook a lot because it's just me, but I do enjoy it."

Placing my hand on my belly, I add, "Well, I love to eat, so anytime you want to try a new recipe, I'm your guy."

Her cheeks stain pink as she nibbles on her bottom lip. My cock notices right away, but I will him into submission. No way does she need to know I could get hard just by watching her teeth bite into her plump lip. She'll probably think I'm a sex fiend and kick me out.

Yes, I'm a guy who enjoys sex, but my reaction is simple.

It's her.

I clear my throat, ready to dig into this delicious meal she prepared for me. "Let's eat."