Chapter Six

Gavin

My cell phone rings precisely at eight o'clock on Saturday morning, which is the moment I'm pulling into my ex-wife's driveway to drop off Annabelle. The number isn't familiar, but that doesn't mean anything in my line of work. A big part of my business comes from word of mouth, and my cell number is passed around like candy. I don't mind though. Business is business, and being readily accessible via cell phone is a huge piece of that puzzle.

"Hello?" I answer, putting my truck in park as the Bluetooth picks up the call.

"Hi, is this Gavin Pierson?"

A smile breaks out across my lips instantly, and I'd be a damn liar if I didn't say my cock recognized the voice too, jumping in my pants at the mere sound of her voice.

However, before I can reply, Annabelle does, clearly realizing who's on the other end of the line too. "Miss Rutledge?"

There's a brief hesitation before she says, "Yes, it's me. How are you, Annabelle?"

"I'm good. Dad's dropping me off at my mom's," my daughter informs her teacher.

"Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt."

"It's okay," I quickly add. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes. I mean, well, sort of. I had an issue with my porch last night, and it buckled. I was hoping you'd be available sometime to take a look at it."

"Can I go too, Dad?" Annabelle asks, her eyes wide with excitement as she stares at me through the rearview mirror.

"Not this time, Belle. Your mom is expecting you, and this is a work call," I tell the eleven-year-old in the back seat.

"Ahh," she groans, drawing out the word and clearly not happy to hear it.

"Listen, let me run Annabelle inside and then I'll head out to your place. I'll be there in about ten minutes."

A brief hesitation again, before she replies, "Okay, that'd be great. Thank you so much."

"Of course. See you soon," I state, ready to push the button on the steering wheel to end the call.

"Bye, Miss Rutledge!"

"Goodbye, Miss Annabelle. Have a great day with your mom."

"I will, thank you," my daughter practically sings back.

"All right, I'll be to your place shortly."

"Thanks, again, Mr. Pierson," Ava says through the speaker.

"It's Gavin, remember?"

I can hear the smile in her voice as she replies, "Gavin. Right. See you soon."

I hang up the phone and release my seat belt. "Ready?"

"No, I'd rather go with you to Miss Rutledge's house," she grumbles from her seat behind me.

"Not this time. It's a work call, and besides, your mom is expecting you. You're going cosmic bowling later, right?"

She sighs dramatically and slowly gets out of the truck. "I know, but I like seeing Miss Rutledge."

Me too.

I hold open the door while she climbs out and grabs her bag. "Maybe I can go with you for a little bit, and then Mom can pick me up?" she suggests, and I already know how that would go.

"Not this time, sweetheart. I could be pretty busy, if there's a lot of damage to her roof," I reason. It's not Ava's place to watch my kid while I work.

"But…she has a cat! I could help her watch Tabitha," she states pointedly.

My head cocks to the side as I give her a look of sympathy. "Sorry, squirt, but not this time."

She sighs. "Can't blame a girl for trying."

I follow behind as she walks to the front door of her mom's house and twists the knob. "See you tomorrow?" she asks, stepping over the threshold and turning to face me.

"I'll be here at noon," I tell her.

This time of year can be especially wonky. Our custody schedule is shared, and even though we've tried just about every different option for splitting time, we settled on a seven-day schedule for rotation. Every Saturday morning at eight, the parent who just had Annabelle has to drop her off at the other's house. It's difficult to go an entire week without seeing my kid, but in the end, it was just the easiest way to do it. It's way less moving and added stress of the back-and-forth as some of the other schedule options we've tried.

The biggest issue is the holidays.

Technically, since tomorrow is New Year's Day and my holiday, I should get her tonight and all day tomorrow. But I try not to be a jerk where my ex-wife is concerned. She's taking Annabelle cosmic bowling tonight with friends and a fun New Year's Eve celebration, and I want her to enjoy her evening without worrying about me. At the end of the day, making sure we're both supportive for Annabelle is what's best for her, so I suggested to Julia she keep her overnight to take advantage of as much fun with her friends as possible. I'm picking her up for lunch and taking her to our favorite pizza joint, which just so happens to be open on New Year's Day.

Sure, I could raise a stink about the event Julia wanted to take Annabelle to cutting into the time I'm supposed to have her, but why? I've seen too many exes fight and bicker, hating on the other so much it just creates stress and uneasiness for the kid or kids involved.

It's not worth it.

I'll never put Annabelle through that.

Despite my feelings toward her mother, I will always put my daughter's well-being first.

That doesn't mean I haven't had to stand my ground a time or two with Julia. You give an inch, she'll take a mile, bat her overly made-up eyelashes, and not give two shits about my feelings on the matter. It's happened plenty, especially in the early days of our split, but once we figured out a custody schedule that worked for everyone, things got a little easier.

"Love you, Dad," Annabelle says, dropping her bag and throwing her arms around me.

I'm so grateful she's not too cool yet to hug. "Love you too, Belle. See you tomorrow."

"'Kay."

"Have fun bowling tonight. Make sure Mom sends me pictures," I add, hoping I'll get at least one at some point during the night. When Annabelle asks for them to be sent to me, Julia does, but it's not something she does out of the goodness of her heart. Not like I do. I want my ex to see our daughter's experiences, even through photos.

"I will," she replies before turning to hang up her coat and take off her boots. "Tell Miss Rutledge I said hello."

"Will do. Bye, kid," I state with a wave before turning and heading back to my truck.

As much as I hate leaving my daughter, duty calls, and the thought of spending some time with the gorgeous Ava goes a long way to ease the ache of missing my kid. Pulling out of Julia's driveway, I turn my focus on the roadway. The heavier snow has been removed, leaving just remnants of melting slush in its wake. I'm sure the city has been up and working since the snow stopped falling in the early morning hours.

Driving toward Ava's, I spot several driveways already cleaned off. In our small town, you have three options for snow removal. Do it yourself, pay a high schooler who's always looking for cash, or hire Marcus. He isn't just the mechanic and tow truck driver, he plows too. The man is busier than anyone I know, and despite being a little rough around the edges, he's a pretty good dude.

I follow the road to Strawberry Hill, recalling how I found Ava on the side of the road just over a week ago. She looked positively gorgeous in the dress, her hair hanging down in big curls that begged for my fingers. Dropping her off at her doorstep was the easiest, yet hardest, decision I've made in quite some time. Not because the physical act of leaving was hard, but simply because I didn't want to go. I wanted to hang out with her, get to know her better, and maybe steal a kiss or two before I left.

Turns out, this crush is a living, breathing entity that thrives on the sight of her. When she's not around, I don't wonder what she's doing. However, after seeing her somewhere, my brain can't stop thinking about her.

It's like high school again, but worse.

The only positive is the fact I'm not afraid to go after what I want now.

And that just so happens to be more time with Miss Ava Rutledge.

Making a left, I pull onto her road and park in her driveway. The porch is definitely in rough shape. I hadn't even noticed it last Friday when I was here, didn't recognize any warps or sags to the wood. At first glance I'm going to assume either her posts rotted or the braces. I'm really hoping it's the former in this case. If there's brace or truss damage, then a part of the roof may need to come off too.

Just as I climb out of my truck and slip my hammer into the hoop on my jeans, I spot Ava walking through the side door on the front of the garage. She's bundled up beneath a heavy winter coat and a stocking cap, her hands covered in thick gloves. "I was hoping to see you again soon, but not for this reason."

She flashes me a small, pained smile. "Yeah, this wasn't how I planned to spend my New Year's Eve."

I walk toward the front porch, taking a look at the structure. "What happened?" I ask unnecessarily. Really, I can figure it out by looking at the damage, but I love the sound of her voice, so the longer I keep her talking, the better.

Ava goes through what happened, including having her dad come over and help board up the window. I've known Jude Rutledge most of my life. I've done work at his house, as well as his farm a time or two over the years. He's incredibly handy, but there are some things he just won't do himself. Roofing is one of them, as is drywall and flooring. I've been hired to do all three in the last five years, including the roof of his large barn at the farm.

"Well, let's take a look, shall we?" I walk up her stairs and scan the posts that once held her porch roof. "If you want to go inside, I can meet you around back when I'm done."

"I'm all right," she quickly replies, stepping to the side to stay out of the way as I carefully check her fallen porch.

It doesn't take me long to assess the damage from the ground and what I can see from the porch, so when that's complete, I grab my six-foot ladder from my truck. I spend the next several minutes checking the braces, trusses, and the overhang. I climb down and can move the hanging roof enough to see behind it. The storm door might have some damage, but it doesn't appear too bad, and the window will definitely need to be replaced.

"All right," I say, folding up my ladder and carrying it over to my truck. I prop it against the bed, grab my notepad from the cab, and return my attention to Ava. "It's not terrible but does need some attention, sooner rather than later. Can I check the window integrity from the inside?"

"Of course," she replies instantly and turns to head toward the garage.

I follow behind, noting the older blue siding, which is probably the original stuff when they built the house in the eighties. This entire subdivision went up over a fifteen-year span before I was born, but I've learned enough about this town over the last decade to know some history, especially when it comes to dwellings. The old farmhouse at the end of the road was built in the early nineteen hundreds, and when the former owners sold the land in the seventies, a young developer scooped it all up and started erecting houses, fourteen in all.

"Come on in," she says, stepping through the door of the garage. It's a nice two-car unit, with storage shelves along the back wall. She keeps it well organized, but that doesn't surprise me. Ava appears to be the type who appreciates everything in order and in its rightful place.

We walk through the door leading to the mudroom. "You don't have to take off your boots," she says, slipping hers off and placing them on a mat to dry.

No way am I walking through her house with wet boots, so I set my notebook down on the dryer and begin unlacing.

"That's not necessary," she says.

"It is," I insist. The moment my boots are off and not leaving puddles of water on her floor, I grab my notebook and say, "Let's take a look."

We walk through a neat eat-in kitchen to the living room, where a piece of plywood is nailed to the trim. The room is much darker, thanks to the blocked natural light. "I'm going to take this down," I tell her, pulling my hammer out of my jeans.

She nods, while I get to work removing the material used to keep the window from caving in.

When it's down, I'm able to assess the damage. "Well, bad news is you definitely need a new window, but from what I can see, it doesn't appear to have damaged the frame. I can order you a new window," I say, pulling out the tape measure always attached to my hip and taking the measurements I need.

"How much do you think that'll cost?"

My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I ignore it while I grab my notepad and pen and start making rough estimates. "Well, I'll figure on the high end for the window. On Monday, I'll be able to get the real cost for you. Labor and materials may fluctuate a little, but only if we get in there and there's damage beneath the shingles or something."

I hear her sigh and glance up from my notepad. "Sorry, I just wasn't anticipating this expense right now. I just got my car back yesterday from Marcus, and now this. I guess they say when it rains, it pours. Or in this case, it snows," she replies with an awkward chuckle.

"The most cost-effective option would be to replace the posts and rebuild the lean-to porch, but I'll be honest, it's not your best option."

"No, I want to do it right. I was planning to replace that porch when I redid the roof. My inspection when I bought this house said the shingles should be good for another six to seven years, and I was hoping to get another year or two out of them."

"I understand that, and you do have the option to just build the roof. I can send you some drawings to show you what I'm talking about. We could always do the porch now and then the rest of the roof later, but if we do that, you definitely want to pick a roofing color that's common. I'd hate to do the porch and then not be able to get matching shingles or metal to match it."

She takes a seat on the couch, holding my gaze. "What do you recommend? Shingles or steel?"

My phone buzzes a second time in my pocket, but I ignore it again. "That's a tough call. Shingles are cheaper up front, but the metal roof lasts so much longer and holds up better in our weather. I can price both for you and we can go from there."

"All right, thank you," she says, giving me a shy smile that makes my heart speed up.

"Can I text you on the number you called me from?" I ask.

"Yes, that's my cell."

Is that a blush on her cheeks?

"I'll run some numbers and give you a rough estimate later today, just so you know what we're talking about. On Monday, I'll be able to give you a more accurate bid, and I'll break it down for you, so you have the option to do it in two phases if you want."

She nods. "I definitely want to do the better roof. I hated that stupid lean-to one, but I wasn't going to replace it until I was ready."

"I get it," I say as my phone vibrates for a third time. "Will you excuse me? I want to make sure that's not Annabelle."

"Of course," she replies as I pull my phone from my pocket.

A message pops up on my screen, but it's not from my daughter.

Hallie: Hey, Gavin! A bunch of us are getting together tonight for NYE at Gabe and Blair's. Kid-friendly. Food and drinks (both alcoholic and non —whichever you prefer). Any time after seven. Hope you can make it!

I slip my phone back into my pocket without replying.

"Everything okay?"

"Yep," I tell her. "Just an invitation to a gathering tonight."

She nods, that pink blush returning to her cheeks. "Nice."

"Big plans for you tonight?" I ask, mostly because I want to draw out my time with her.

"Oh, I was invited to a gathering, but I'm still undecided. They're not really my thing."

"No, but sometimes, just hanging out with friends is the best medicine."

She chuckles. "That's true, and the way Hallie and Logan bicker, there's always some laughter involved. I'm sure I'll go for a little bit."

I smile widely as she gives me the confirmation I was hoping for. Ava was invited to the same gathering I was, which means I will most definitely be attending now.

Replacing the plywood over the window, I slip my hammer into the loop and hold her gaze. "Expect a text from me this afternoon. The window and the roof are okay as they are, but I wouldn't wait too long to get it fixed. At least have the broken part of the roof taken down so it doesn't put more strain on the braces it's hanging from."

"How is your schedule?"

"For you?" I ask, a grin spreading across my mouth. "Wide open, Miss Rutledge."

She huffs and shakes her head. "I doubt that, but I appreciate it."

"I have a few jobs lined up, but they're not pressing, so if you want me here Monday morning to take it down, I'm yours."

In more ways than one.

"Okay. Let's do that, and then I'll make a decision on what we're going to do about the porch and the roof."

"Sounds good." I make sure I have my things before walking to the mudroom where I left my boots. It takes me a few minutes to get them laced back up, but when I do, I give her my undivided attention. "Enjoy your New Year's Eve tonight, Ava."

"Thanks. You too."

Flashing her a big smile, I can't help but say, "I'm sure I will. My night is suddenly looking up."

Exiting her house, I go out the way I came. The moment I'm in the driver's seat of my truck, I pull up the text from Hallie and fire off a reply.

Me: I'll be there.