Chapter Four

Gavin

"How's it going?" my brother, Paul, asks, taking the empty seat beside me at the dining room table.

"Pretty good," I reply, sipping water and glancing at the kids all playing games in the living room with their grandparents.

"Business doing well?"

I nod. "Winter is always slower, but I have plenty of indoor jobs to keep us busy for a while."

"That helps. At least you're not framing up a garage right now," he says, taking a drink of his beer.

"No shit," I mutter, grateful to be working inside for a while. We've had those types of jobs before, and they're never fun this time of year. "How's everything with you?"

"Good. Getting ready for tax season, which means I'll be working crazy hours for the next four months, so trying to enjoy a little downtime before all hell breaks loose."

My brother, Paul, and his wife, Tina, own a CPA firm in St. Paul and are pretty successful. They have six accountants under them, some who only work during tax season, while others stay on full time to handle year-round needs for customers and corporations.

"Math," I grumble, throwing in a shiver to make my point. "Why anyone would want to do math every day is beyond me."

Paul chuckles. "Says the man who uses math in measurements all day, every day."

"Not the same," I insist.

"So what else is new? You seeing anyone?" he asks quietly, even though we're the only two in the room.

My brain flashes with an image of Ava, despite the fact we're not dating. "Uhh, no."

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The hesitation."

I scoff and cross my arms over my chest.

"There is someone. I can tell."

"You can't tell shit," I counter. "There's no one."

Paul chuckles. "That right there. I can tell because you instantly got defensive. Tell me."

I feel the weight of his eyes on me as I try to sit calmly, but as the silence goes on, I start to squirm. I consider my options, but in the end, I know he won't let it slide. He's like a dog with a bone, determined to pull any dirt out of me he can get. When we were little, he used to tickle me until I cracked. Now, he just waits and stares until I have no other option. I'm sure it's a technique he's perfected throughout raising his kids.

Asshole.

"There's someone I…like."

"And?" he encourages, wanting more.

"And, that's it. I would love to ask her out, but I'm pretty sure she will resist."

"Why?"

I glance around, making sure no one is within earshot. "She's Annabelle's teacher."

"Okay, so?"

I shrug. "It's not that simple. She's pretty reserved and doesn't date much. And I'm certain she wouldn't date the father of one of her students."

Paul leans a little closer, placing his elbows on the table. "I don't know, man. You were always a persistent little thing when you were younger. I bet, if you wanted to, you could convince her to give you a shot."

"This isn't like talking Mom into giving us more time to stay up and watch Batman , Paul," I reply with a laugh.

He shrugs as the front door opens. "That's probably Grandma. The Christmas Eve service should be over by now," he states, jumping up and going to help her inside. Grandma Zelda may be in her eighties, but she's still incredibly active and very involved in her church.

"I invited a friend to join us for dessert," Grandma announces as she slips her coat off and hangs it on the tree beside the door.

Getting up from my seat, I pull out the chair at the end of the table. "How was the service, Grandma?"

"It was lovely, dear. The Christmas services are always my favorite," she says.

"What can I get you to drink, Grandma?" my sister, Ginger, asks, joining us in the dining room.

"Coffee, please."

"Is it time for dessert?" Mason, my sister's fourteen-year-old son, hollers from the living room, where he is playing Uno.

"Sure is!" Grandma replies, smiling as the kids all seem to come running. A knock sounds at the front door. "Oh, that's probably my church friend, Betty."

I hear the front door open, but my eyes are zeroing in on the peach pie my mom made for tonight as it's brought to the antique buffet table where the desserts are placed. If I don't hurry, it'll be gone, the pan practically licked clean by the Neanderthal I call my brother.

We've always fought over the peach pie.

"Miss Rutledge! You came!" Annabelle hollers, catching my attention.

I look up and find Ava and her grandma standing by the front door, and there's no missing the shock on Ava's gorgeous face. She smiles down at Annabelle, who wraps her arms around her waist and squeezes tightly, much like she did earlier in the day at the bookstore. Then, as if sensing my eyes on her, Ava looks up and meets my gaze. I swear, you can hear the sizzle of electricity as it zings through the air.

A hand comes down on my shoulder and gives a hard squeeze. "Ahhh, the teacher, I assume?"

I swallow hard and glance at my brother, who's wearing a cocky smirk on his smug face. "Shut up."

Quickly changing my route from the dessert table to the front entrance, I meet Ava and Betty as they're taking off their coats. "Merry Christmas, ladies," I say, helping hang their coats.

"Merry Christmas," Betty replies with a warm smile.

"Sorry to intrude, but Zelda invited my grandma over for coffee and pie," Ava says, a look of uncertainty on her pretty face.

"And we're happy to have you," I insist, offering my arm to the older woman. "Miss Betty, would you like some coffee? I believe my mom just made a fresh pot."

Betty steps forward, slipping her hand around my elbow. "I would love some, dear. And Zelda has told me all about the pies," she states, walking with me into the dining room.

Fortunately, since the kids all eat dessert in the kitchen around the smaller table and counter bar, there is plenty of room at the dining room table for our guests. "Well, it looks like she saved you a seat," I say, pulling out the chair closest to my grandma for Betty to have a seat.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Betty says, patting my cheek. "If I weren't so damn old, I'd be giving you my number."

Just as I bark out a laugh, I hear a gasp and a shocked, "Grandma!" behind me.

Betty just shrugs and takes the seat. "Well, my eyesight isn't what it used to be, but I'm not completely blind, Ava." She gives me a friendly smile. "Zelda didn't tell me her grandson grew into such a handsome man. You know, my granddaughter is adorable and single."

Again, there's a gasp behind me. "Stop it!" she whisper-yells at her grandma, making everyone in the room chuckle.

Smiling, I glance back, taking in Ava's adorably red face, even though she's trying to hide it behind her hand. Returning my attention to Betty, I flash her a charming grin. "Why, yes, Miss Betty, I am fully aware of your granddaughter's beauty." I give her a wink as my sister delivers mugs of coffee to Grandma and her friend.

While the rest of the adults grab dessert and find seats around the dining room table or in the living room, I give my complete attention to Ava. She's wearing a rich, warm red sweater, and my mind instantly goes back to that night over the summer when she walked into Shiner's Pub in that sexy as fuck red dress. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen her wear before, straight out of my wildest fantasies, really, and rekindled this massive crush I have. All night, I couldn't take my eyes off her as she visited with her friends, celebrating Hallie's birthday. It also fueled the actions I took on myself later that night when I was alone at home.

Now, she's paired her red sweater with black slacks and looks so classic and beautiful. I don't know what it is about Ava Rutledge, but I've never been more attracted to anyone else.

"What can I get you to drink?"

She looks up, her cheeks still stained from embarrassment. "Oh, I'm fine."

"Come on, Ava," I reply lightly. "Let me get you something. Coffee? Ice water? Iced tea? I think there's some soda in the fridge too."

"Umm, all right. I'll have coffee."

Giving her a quick grin, I reply, "I'll be right back. Go ahead and grab yourself some dessert before the hooligans return for seconds." I head into the kitchen to pour two cups of coffee.

The kids are all chatting about the gifts they received tonight and the ones they're hoping to get tomorrow. I chuckle as I hear the oldest talk about wanting a new car, which I know he's not receiving for Christmas, and smile as the youngest gushes about the books she unwrapped earlier. When I have two cups of coffee filled, I return to the dining room.

Ava is sitting at the seat beside her grandma, listening to the two older women chat. "Here ya go," I reply, placing the steaming mugs down on the table. I notice Ava still doesn't have any dessert, but her grandma does.

"Thank you," she replies, wrapping her fingers around the mug, as if to use it to warm them up.

"You're welcome. No dessert for you?" I ask.

"No, I'm all right," she insists, but there's no missing the way her eyes dart toward the array of sweet treats nearby.

"Come on, Miss Rutledge. My mom's peach pie is to die for and is my favorite," I insist, reaching for her chair and ready to help pull it out. "You need to try it."

She slowly stands, and it takes every ounce of control I possess not to place my hand on her back and guide her toward the desserts. I long to touch her, but refrain, mostly because I don't want her to feel like I'm getting handsy. I've never been a big touchy-feely guy, but recently, when I'm around Ava, all I want to do is get my hands on her.

When we approach the buffet table, my eyes seek out the one dessert that's the biggest reason I come to family functions: the pie. Okay, that's not entirely true but it's definitely a huge part of it. Sweet peaches, buttery, flaky crust, and a dusting of sugar that makes my mouth water.

"There's only one piece of pie left," Ava says.

"That's okay, you take it."

She shakes her head, reaching for a brownie with powdered sugar on top. "I couldn't. It's your favorite," she reasons, also taking a chocolate chip cookie.

"Nope, I insist. Mom's peach pie is practically its own food group. She won the church group pie bake-off seven years in a row. If you don't take it, you'd be missing out on one of the greatest gifts in life, and I could never eat it with you sitting beside me, knowing you're peach pie-less and I'm not. It would ruin peach pie for me for the rest of my life."

Am I laying it on thick?

Yes.

Does she appear to be falling for my bullshit?

Also, yes.

A slow smile spreads across her lips. "Wow, how can I say no to that?" She chuckles. "But the only way I'm eating this pie is if you split it with me. I can't eat a whole slice of pie, plus what I already put on my plate, so really, you'd be doing me a favor by sharing it with me."

"Deal," I reply.

Just as I go to reach for the pie server, a hand swoops in to grab it first. I turn narrowed eyes toward my brother, who's smirking gleefully and victoriously. I reach out and slap his hand. "Drop the pie server or you'll be eating your Christmas meal tomorrow through a straw."

My asshole brother barks out a laugh and shakes his head. He glances around me and smiles at Ava. "I promise, my baby brother isn't always a caveman. He's only acting like that because he thinks flexing his muscles will impress you."

I groan, and before I can retort with something sarcastic and witty, Ava steps up to the plate and knocks it out of the park. "I get it. I've heard amazing things about this pie, and if you take the last slice, you're second one, I might add, leaving us with nothing, then you might deserve a knuckle sandwich, as my grandpa used to say."

Paul gapes in horror at Ava, while I burst out laughing. When he finally catches his composure, he hands off the pie server. "You two are perfect for each other," he mutters not-so-quietly, reaches for a brownie and shoves it in his mouth, and turns and walks away.

"Oh my God, I can't believe I said that," Ava mutters, covering her mouth with her left hand. "I'm so sorry."

Giving her my attention, I can tell she's clearly embarrassed and a little flustered. "Don't be sorry. The look on his face is worth it. And believe me, he's not upset or offended. He's heard way worse from me over the years and has given it back just as good."

"I was rude," she murmurs softly, shaking her head.

Scooping up the final piece of pie, I set it on her plate. "You were sassy. I liked it, Ava," I state, throwing in a wink before returning the server to the empty dish. "What do you say? Shall we go sit and enjoy our dessert?"

Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes a little sparkly as she nibbles on her bottom lip and nods. "Yes."

Ava returns to the seat beside her grandma, and I take the empty one to her left. No one seems to be paying us much attention as she takes her plastic knife and fork and cuts the slice of pie in half. I can't help but smile as she takes her time, doing her best to ensure the dessert is cut equally.

Pointing to her plate, she says, "Pick your half."

Deciding I love seeing her smile, I lower my face, getting close to the two slices. "Well, the one on the left appears to have a little more peach filling, while the right half has more of the sugary, flaky crust. Hmmm," I contemplate, studying both pieces until I hear her chuckle.

When I look up, my heart does this weird flip in my chest, which makes it almost impossible to draw in a full breath of air. She's so fucking beautiful it almost hurts to look at her. "I didn't realize choosing a slice of pie was such a hard decision."

"The hardest," I insist.

"Well, in my classroom, I'd be telling you, you get what you get, and you don't throw a fit," she teases.

I bark out a laugh, drawing the attention of a few at the table, but I refuse to acknowledge them. My eyes are locked on the beauty beside me. "Are you telling me I'm acting like a fifth grader?" I ask, unable to hide my own grin.

"Well, technically no," she says, holding up the plate so I can take my pie. "Students actually hear that particular line in kindergarten, so…"

Another fit of laughter from me has all eyes on us once more. "All right, so I'm the equivalent of a kindergartener. Got it," I retort, winking as I stab the closest piece and set it on my plate.

She sighs. "That's the one I wanted," she mutters.

"Well, then I guess you should have picked before me."

We eat our dessert, casually talking and engaging with those around the table. It's comfortable and easy, like most of my family gatherings. Only this time, there's the added bonus of having Ava here too.

"Where are you working at, Gavin?" Ava's grandma, Betty, asks.

"Well, I just wrapped up a kitchen remodel for the Gustafsons over on Parkway. I'm taking the next week off, since I'll have Annabelle for part of holiday break. We're going to Minneapolis for a few days to an indoor waterpark."

"Oh, that sounds like fun," Betty replies before she starts talking to my sister about work.

"Annabelle mentioned the trip in class. She's looking forward to it," Ava tells me between bites of her pie.

"I always try to pick somewhere within driving distance to go for a few days over winter break. I know her mom takes her on a big trip during the summer, so this is an opportunity for us to go together and she doesn't have to miss school. Plus, it's easier for me to take the time off from work between Christmas and New Year's. My employee, Max, is appreciative of the time off too and spends it with his own kids."

She nods, pushing her plate away and setting a hand on her stomach. "That was amazing, but I'm stuffed."

After finishing off my own final bite of dessert, I ask, "What did you think?"

"Of the pie?"

"Yes."

"It was delicious. Best peach pie I've ever had."

"See? I was right," I quip, leaning toward her so no one can overhear our conversation.

"You were right."

"Which means you should go out with me."

That seems to catch her off guard. Her beautiful brown eyes widen and the light dusting of freckles on her cheeks only seem to grow brighter as she blushes. "I, uh…I can't."

"Can't?" I ask, and even though I fully expected this answer, it still stings a bit.

"Yes, I have a rule."

"A rule? Do tell," I encourage, getting even closer.

"I don't date parents of my students."

I give her a nod in understanding. "Makes sense, but I think you should reconsider."

Her mouth ticks as she tries not to smile. "Oh, you do, do you?"

"I do, and I'll prove it to you."

Her eyes flash with something that looks like excitement. "Tonight?"

"No, not tonight, but soon. Gradually, over time. I'll wear you down." Leaning even closer so I catch the hitch in her breath and the scent of her perfume. "I'm relentless like that," I add, throwing in a wink.

She clears her throat and glances to her right, probably checking to see if anyone is paying us any attention. "I may not change my mind."

Giving her a wide, panty-melting grin, I inform her, "Rules were made to be broken, Miss Rutledge."

I'm not afraid of a little cat and mouse chase, and something tells me this woman will be one-hundred-percent worth it when caught.