“Go in, baby,” Shane says, guiding Avery through the doorway.
Avery hurries inside. “Hey, Erik.”
I nod as Shane brushes past me. “Fucking freezing out. Where’s that space heater? Keep your coat on, Ave, till we fire up the heater.”
I don’t smile, but I come close. There’s a tendency among Sullivan men to treat their wives and girlfriends like baby dolls. Before Arya, I never imagined myself acting that way. Now, there are moments…
“What’s up?” I ask Shane.
Shane leans behind the table to jerk the space heater’s plug from the wall.
“Didn’t you get my text?”
“No.”
“Where’s your phone?”
I shrug. “Somewhere.”
With a quick look, Shane scrutinizes me. He’s got the same eyes as Uncle Joe.
Arya emerges from behind a panel and says hello. She’s wearing black stretch pants under a t-shirt and a heavy gray sweater that’s mine. The sleeves are so long her hands aren’t even visible.
Avery and Arya exchange friendly smiles. Shane plugs in the heater and motions for Avery to sit on the couch near it.
Arya pushes up the sleeves to free her hands. After grabbing a pair of socks from her trunk, she sits on the edge of the coffee table to pull them on.
“What do we need? Drinks or coffee?” she asks, falling effortlessly into the role of hostess, as though they didn’t drop by totally unannounced.
Shane glances at Avery. “Irish coffee, baby? Erik, do you have brown sugar, cream, and a bottle of Irish whiskey?”
“Yes,” Arya says, walking to the kitchen. “Cinnamon okay with everyone?”
“Fine with us,” Shane says, walking to the counter. “This visit is only half social call, though.”
“Oh?” Arya climbs up on the counter to reach the whiskey bottle that’s in the back of a high cabinet. I have no idea how she knows it’s there.
“Come on,” I say, walking around to put a hand behind her in case she slips. “Let me get it.”
She turns and drops so she’s sitting on the edge of the counter. “Please do. And make us those coffees, too.”
I hand the whiskey to Shane and fill the coffee pot with water.
“Your cheap coffee sucks,” Arya says, pushing the plastic canister of grocery store coffee aside. “Check the freezer, Viking. You’ll find the good stuff.”
Ignoring her, I look at Shane. “Not a social call you said?”
Shane circles the counter and glances in the freezer. “What have you got?”
“Hacienda La Esmeralda.From Panama. One of my dad’s partners gives it to us for Christmas.” Arya winks at us.
“Yeah, I’m down for that.” Shane sets the bag on the counter and turns to look at her. “I heard a rumor today. That there’s a Lambda Delta Kappa with a grudge against you.”
Arya folds her arms across her chest.
“Something about you smashing Wilson the LDK VP’s hand with a bookend?”
“Is that what they said?” Her relaxed posture is gone. She’s rigid now, with a defiant tilt to her chin.
