Chapter Eight

Gavin

Jesus, she's so fucking beautiful.

The red dress, black sweater that would give a nice view of cleavage if she weren't wearing something beneath it, and boots. My God, those fucking boots. I'm going to dream about them for the rest of my life. They're nothing fancy, just black leather with little heels, but the way they hug her calves and go with her red dress that hits at her knees and I'm suddenly weak in mine.

"Do you know how to play?" she asks as the first round of cards are dealt.

"I do. I used to play when I was younger with my grandparents," I tell her, collecting my three cards.

"Me too! Maybe it was that generation's game. I think they used to play in a church group," she says, taking a peek at her cards carefully so no one can see.

"I believe you're right," I reply, taking a card off the stack when it's my turn. Ava's to my left, so she'll have the opportunity to take the one I discard or retrieve the top card from the stack. I pull a seven of clubs, and since my original cards contain two clubs, I go ahead and keep it in my hand and discard the offsuit.

"Thank you," she says, scooping up the ten of diamonds and slipping it in her hand. She discards a two of hearts.

"I see you're going for diamonds," I tease quietly, keeping my voice down so the rest of the table doesn't hear.

She flashes me a knowing grin, holding her cards to her chest. "I will neither confirm nor deny."

Playing cards with this group is fun, especially sitting beside Ava. I learn in a short amount of time she's competitive and is most definitely a rule-follower, which doesn't exactly bode well for me with her whole dating a student's dad rule.

But watching her smile and relax with each round of cards we play is what keeps me wanting to try. I was attracted to her before, but now, watching her play cards and relax, I'm all in on my quest to steal a date or two from the lovely Miss Ava Rutledge.

Marcus is declared the winner of the money at our table, and Logan on the other. Before we start another game and change things up, everyone decides to refill drinks and plates of food and use the bathroom. I'm one of the last to use the bathroom and grab a little more food, and as I pile a few chicken wings onto my plate, Ava walks in.

"Thanks again for sending me those quotes," she says, her shy gaze bouncing between me and the food.

"You're welcome. Hopefully I'll have more concrete numbers for you by ten or eleven Monday."

"It's no rush. I'll be home all day," she insists, taking a small scoop of dill pickle dip and placing it on a plate before adding a couple of crackers.

Deciding to jump without a parachute, I say, "Listen, Ava I was wondering—"

"Let's go, you two! We're ready to start the next game!" Blair hollers from the living room where everyone is waiting.

My invitation dies a quick death.

I flash her a smile. "We better get going."

Ava nods and grabs a bottle of water before turning toward the other room with her plate in her other hand. As much as I'd love to have another beer, I opt for a bottle of water myself, knowing I'll be driving home at some point. Plus, I get to spend time with Annabelle tomorrow, which is my main reason not to tie one on tonight to ring in the new year.

When I join the party in the living room, I'm not really surprised to find the final remaining chair next to Ava once more. Something tells me Hallie and Blair have something up their sleeve. I've caught them whispering and have watched Ava blush a thousand shades of red right after they'd all look my way.

Not that I'm opposed to having a little help where Ava's concerned, I just don't want them to push her so hard it has the opposite effect. I want her to want to spend more time with me, not be forced into it. That's exactly why I'm being persistent without being overbearing and demanding. It's a fine line, but I refuse to make her feel uncomfortable.

I'm attracted to her, and I think she feels the same toward me.

I just have to take my time and slowly chisel away at that protective wall she's constructed around herself. It feels like tonight I might have chipped away a few small pieces. She's relaxed, laughing, and enjoying herself, and I'd like to think she's comfortable around me. I've caught glimpses of the real Ava, the one she only lets herself be around family and close friends, and I like this side as much as I enjoy her serious, professional one.

We play two more rounds of cards, and I admit, I don't recall when I've laughed this hard. Everyone gets along great, and even though I'm not really part of their group of friends, they've welcomed me and made me feel as if I've always been here. I've always enjoyed visiting with Gabe, TD, Logan, Marcus, and the others, and I know that friendship will continue. They're good people.

"Everyone get a drink. The ball drops in five minutes," Blair says.

Gabe walks over and places his hands on her swollen stomach, a look of awe in his eyes. Both Gabe and Logan have done that throughout the evening, and who can blame them? When Julia was pregnant with Annabelle, I remember always wanting to touch her. Feeling my child move and kick was the one thing that could make the stresses of a long, hard day just fade away.

I head into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and find Hallie pouring glasses of champagne. "Everyone has to take a sip at midnight to toast the new year," she insists, while pouring two glasses of sparkling grape juice for herself and Blair.

"Champagne is gross," TD says.

"Don't care. Sip it or the New Year's Eve gods will bestow upon you a shitty year. It's the rules," she insists, passing him a little plastic flute of bubbly.

He sighs, takes the glass, and heads into the living room with Ellie at his side.

"You too, Gavin," she states, passing me my own drink.

"Thank you," I reply, even though I'm not really a fan of champagne. I'd much rather have beer or something with a real kick like Tito's and Sprite. But I also don't want the New Year's Eve gods to bestow upon me a shitty year…whatever that means, so I take the offered champagne and return to the living room.

I hang back in the corner, watching as the couples pair up and wait for the countdown to begin. Marcus and James, the fire chief, chat off to the side, not paying any attention to the television or the toast that's about to happen. My eyes glance to the right, and that's when I spot Ava. She's standing back away from everyone else, alone. My feet are moving in her direction before I can even give it a second thought.

"Not feeling the countdown?" I ask when I reach her side.

She shrugs. "It seems a little silly."

"Agreed," I reply, leaning against the wall casually. "I mean, one drink at midnight could determine your entire outcome for the year?"

"Silly," she confirms. "Or a kiss. Why must you kiss someone at the stroke of midnight to ensure good luck in your relationship or to break the cycle of loneliness? I mean, it's a kiss."

My ears perk up and I find myself saying, "Well, I don't know about that. If the kiss could help, it seems like it would be worth a shot."

"Ten…nine…eight…"

I take a step toward her, hearing her sharp inhale of breath at my nearness. If I sense any uneasiness from her, I'll back off instantly. Instead, something flashes in her eyes. Something that looks a lot like excitement.

"Seven…six…five…"

"What do you say, Miss Rutledge? Ring in the new year with some good luck?" I ask.

"Four…three…"

Her eyes widen as the countdown is complete.

"Two…one…Happy New Year!"

Her tongue slips out and wets her lips just as she gives the slightest nod, but as much as I want to kiss this woman, I don't want it to be for this reason, surrounded by friends who may or may not be playing matchmaker.

Leaning in, I catch the subtle scent of her perfume as I press my lips to her cheek, letting them linger a few extra seconds longer than I should. "Happy New Year, Ava."

Her eyes are closed and her mouth slightly puckered. It takes every ounce of control I can muster to not say fuck it and kiss the hell out of her, but again, the first time I truly kiss her isn't going to be here, surrounded by friends.

I feel her shiver as her eyes slowly open. There's a hint of sadness and shock mixed in the depths of those brown eyes, and I can't help but feel happy. Not to see the dejection, but simply because it's confirmation she wanted me to kiss her.

And I will.

"Happy New Year, Gavin," she whispers, clearing her throat and straightening her spine.

Refusing to step back, I hold her gaze as I say, "I just made a New Year's wish. Do you want to hear it?"

She seems a little taken aback by my question, but eventually nods. "I'm going to kiss you, Ava Rutledge. For real. Without everyone else watching us or because it's expected at the stroke of midnight. I'm going to kiss you when the time is right for both of us, when you're ready. But know it's coming, beautiful, and when I kiss you, it'll be just the beginning."

"Toast!"

Ava startles as Hallie hollers for everyone's attention.

I slowly turn, still holding my drink and preparing to face friends. Of course, as expected, several are wearing a knowing smirk, but I'm going to assume they think I kissed her. And I did—just not in the way they're hoping.

Soon, though.

Our time will come.

"All right, I guess I was roped in to the toast," Gabe announces. "Everyone, raise your glass. To the new year. To family and friends," he starts, giving us all a smile. "To expanding families," he says, glancing down to his new wife, whose left hand is resting on her baby belly. "And to falling in love," he adds, making my heart rate kick up a few extra beats. Not because I'm in love, but because I find myself open to the idea for the first time since my divorce. Maybe it's this crazy schoolboy crush I find myself having once more over the woman standing beside me, or maybe it's the fact I'm surrounded by couples who have found their love over the last couple of years. Whatever it is, I won't ignore the hope bubbling in my chest.

Maybe this is my year.

"To good health and lots of laughter. May you all find what you're looking for this year, whatever that may be."

"Cheers!" everyone hollers, holding up those plastic glasses and tapping those around us.

Since it's just me and Ava, I tap her glass with my own and say, "To finding happiness."

Her brown eyes hold my gaze, and everyone else in the room fades away. "Happiness," she murmurs before lightly tapping my glass and taking a drink.

The moment is shattered when Blair, Hallie, and Ellie all appear in our little bubble to tap glasses with Ava, and I take a step back, letting them have their time. But my mind is still on our shared moment, on the kiss that didn't happen and the fact we both wanted it to. I'm an incredibly patient man, and if I have to take this slow and steady to prove to her we're worth taking the risk—worth breaking every one of her damn rules—then that's what I'll do.

I told her I was relentless, and it's time to prove it.

I knock on the door and wait for Annabelle. It's a bit warmer today, the sun shining high in the first day of the new year sky. My mind replays everything from last night, as it's done over and over again since I got home. I've thought of nothing but Ava, and the fact I get to work at her house tomorrow morning has me all sorts of excited. I'll start by removing the old porch roof and reinspecting the braces and roof. I'll get the window ordered and the rest of the pricing she needs for her quote, and then hopefully completing the job. A part of me is keeping my fingers crossed she'll hire me to redo the entire roof so I get more time with her, but I'm not holding my breath. I know it's a costly project, and when you're not expecting those costs, it can be hard to pull the trigger.

When no one comes to the door, I knock a second time. It takes a few long seconds but finally the door opens. "Hey, sorry," Julia says, clearly having just got out of the shower. She's wearing a robe, her hair wet and dripping on the floor. "Come in."

I step inside, holding my hands at my sides, and move out of the way.

"We overslept this morning, so she's getting ready now," Julia announces.

Before I can offer to wait in my truck, a man wearing lounge pants walks out of the bedroom I know is my ex-wife's. "Hey, babe. The remote's out of batteries," he grumbles, slapping the remote control against the palm of his hand.

I stare at the man standing in front of me, his eyes narrowed into little slits. "I thought you were getting rid of whoever was at the door?" he mutters, watching me closely.

"This is my ex-husband, Gavin," Julia replies, clearly feeling about as awkward and uncomfortable as the rest of us.

Taking a step toward him, I extend my hand. "Gavin Pierson."

"Mike Gagnon," he states, squeezing my hand firmly. Almost too hard, actually. Like he's trying to prove something or demonstrate his strength.

"Nice to meet you. I wasn't aware Julia was dating anyone," I say, standing my ground.

He shrugs, as if it's none of my business. And in a way, it isn't, but in the other way, it's very much my business. We share a child, and we've always been very firm on talking amongst ourselves when it comes to dating and Annabelle.

"It's new," she replies.

"Not too new," Mike says casually, thumping the remote in his palm again.

I turn my attention to my ex-wife. "Can I have a word?"

She nods, glancing over to Mike. "Give me a minute."

He glances between Julia and me before saying, "Don't forget the batteries," and returning to the bedroom.

The moment he's gone, my gaze zeroes in on my ex-wife. "I thought we had an agreement." Julia rolls her eyes and walks away, heading off toward the kitchen. I follow, determined to get this conversation out of the way before Annabelle emerges from her bedroom. "Julia."

She huffs and pours herself a cup of coffee. "It's not serious."

"Then why are you bringing him around our daughter?" I ask quietly so we're not overheard.

"It's fine. Annabelle knows Mikey, his son."

"How?"

I can tell she's getting annoyed, but I don't care. If someone is going to be around my daughter, clearly sleeping under the same roof as her, in her mom's bed, I have a right to ask questions. I'm one-thousand-percent certain Julia would be doing the exact same thing, if the shoe were on the other foot.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she lifts her chin. "Karate."

I slowly nod, thinking back to the last time I took her to her weekly Tuesday karate class in Hudson, but not remembering Mike. "And you two…"

Julia huffs dramatically. "Listen, we're not getting into the details. We're seeing each other. Mike is a travel agent in Hudson. He's divorced and has one son. Mikey is two years older than Annabelle. Happy?"

Slowly letting out a long exhale, I say, "I don't care that you date, Julia, but do appreciate a heads-up if someone is going to be around our daughter like this."

Her eyes narrow. "You don't trust me? I didn't say a damn word when you dated what's her name with the buck teeth and mousy hair," she counters, instantly going on the defensive.

I hold up my hands. "Actually, you did have plenty to say, but that's beside the point."

"Fine, you want a heads-up? I'm seeing Mike. There."

Sighing, I realize this conversation isn't going anywhere good. She's not understanding my concern, and the fact it has everything to do with our daughter and ensuring she's safe and comes first. "Fine," I reply, turning toward the doorway and hoping Annabelle hurries up so we can get out of here. "And for the record, I never had Samantha around Annabelle. The only reason you knew I was seeing someone was because you guys showed up at the pizza place." Otherwise, she wouldn't have seen us together because I didn't feel it was serious enough to warrant introducing her to our daughter.

"No one will replace me."

I exhale and close my eyes. "You're right, and no one is trying to."

This is how conversations go with Julia. She finds offense in everything I say, always kicking back instead of just listening. It was hard talking to her when we were married and hasn't gotten much better since.

"Ready, Dad," Annabelle hollers as she joins me by the front door.

"Great. Let's go eat. I'm starved," I say, holding up her coat to help her slip it on.

She doesn't have a bag with her, since we're just spending a few hours together and not the entire day, but I do notice she has a book. It's one of the new ones I gave her for Christmas, and by the looks of it, she's already halfway through.

"Bye, Mom. Love you. Be back soon."

"Love you too, Belle," Julia says, bending down and kissing our daughter's head before we step outside.

The moment we get into my truck, she turns to me and says, "I bet you're wondering about Mike."

The right side of my mouth curls up. "A little."

She rolls her eyes in true eleven-year-old preteen fashion. "Let's go have pizza and I'll tell you what I know."

Smiling, I back out of the driveway, praying this closeness I share with my daughter never changes. She can tell me anything, good or bad, and it'll never change the way I feel about her.

"Breadsticks?" I ask, heading toward downtown.

"Duh!"

Laughing, I let the awkward encounter with Julia and Mike go and turn my focus on Annabelle. "Let's do it."