“Nate hasn’t loved Lily all his life.” Miles flashed the light into Casper’s doghouse. “He’s loved her since he met her. That’s possible for anyone, at any age. Trust me. You haven’t met everyone who is going to love you.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Her voice cracked. “But I’m a jilted bride, and it’s coming.”
“What’s coming?” The light next to the door cast a multitude of shadows on the Cooper’s long porch. Miles shined the flashlight under the rattan furniture.
“Thirty and then thirty-five,” she said. “All my friends are in serious, long-term relationships, and I can’t seem to find one that lasts. I don’t want to be cast off more times than your favorite fishing rod.”
He stared at the long, dark lawn in front of him and thought about bringing up Trent to deflect blame from himself, but Avery was at glass half empty. The goal was to fill her cup. She waited for an answer, lit by the glow of the porch.
“You’ll be thirty next September. That’s over a year away.” He ducked his gaze into her line of sight, waiting for her to connect. “And I’m already in my thirties. It’s not so bad. Look, we all feel lost sometimes. But you don’t peak once. Life is a mountain range, full of peaks. Peaks have valleys. You’re in one. You’ll get out.”
She smiled hopefully and her teeth chattered. They’d been so distracted, he hadn’t noticed her wet hair and thin T-shirt. A bra strap peeked out below the shirt’s loose collar.
“I want what they have,” she said. “Somebody. Someday. What am I doing wrong?”
Miles wanted nothing more than to be that somebody, but he knew not to jump too far ahead. So he removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She shivered into its warmth as her arms ran through the sleeves. He zipped it up and rubbed her shoulders.
“Avery, I’m no expert, but I think you try to rush things. Relationships aren’t something you check off a list. They’re something you grow. Isn’t that the advice you gave me? Go on one date, then two, and then one day you’ve gone on so many with the same person, you’ve lost count.”
Miles took a small step toward her and opened his arms. “Come here,” he smiled. “I don’t know the dance routine they do in the movie, but you’re freezing and I give warm hugs.”
She stepped into his chest and Miles wrapped his arms around her and, without thinking, planted a soft kiss on her cool forehead.
“Maybe you’ll find someone at Paulson’s hotel bar. What was it? Bemelmans.”
She lay her ear against his chest and looked toward the dark lake.
“Yeah, Bemelmans,” she said. “With the murals.”
“I’d have picked Bar Chrystie at the Public Hotel for you,” he said. “Everything’s emerald green. They have lighted chandeliers lying sideways on pedestals. The whole time we’re there, I’ll be trying to figure out if the room is making you sparkle or if you’re making it sparkle. Even though I know it’s the latter.”
She picked her head up off his chest and in the dim light, he saw a smile. He wondered what color her eyes were. It didn’t matter. She was beautiful.
“Can you follow me around and whisper all of that to me every day?” She patted his chest.
That was the dream, and Miles felt the thrill of entering a scary carnival ride. He wanted her to know how special she was.
“Sure.” He smiled.
He reached up and ever so lightly ran the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. He went liquid on the inside when she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. As his gaze drifted over her, the idea of the dollhouse came to him. He needed to tell her what she didn’t know.
“I think I see you places.” He kept his voice soft and steady, so she’d know his words came from deep within him. “Crowds, lines, running ahead of me along the Hudson. I spy a reddish-blond ponytail, one that could’ve been rinsed in the Tabasco sauce they named you after. I catch my breath and think,it’s Avery.”
He said her name with a hitch, as if he had seen a fish jump. When her breath hitched too, he knew his words had hit their mark. He slowly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, softly brushing his thumb over the spot he used to kiss. Her lips parted.
Getting closer was a gamble. She might run.
All that existed in this moment was Avery and the softness of her skin under his hand. For years, he’d envisioned what he wanted. She was standing right in front of him and the prospect of getting himself where he wanted to be seemed possible.
“Obviously, she’s never you.” He lowered his hand. “But damn, Avery, for the last ten years, I haven’t stopped looking, no matter what else is going on in my life.”
Maybe he’d revealed too much, but Avery didn’t run. She stayed in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck. It was a risk to open himself a little more, but one nudge forward and she might understand what he really wanted.
“I used to worry that at some point, I wouldn’t remember you anymore.” His voice fell to almost a whisper, and he grasped a handful of her jacket … which was his jacket … right at the small of her back. “The crinkle in your nose when you giggle, or that you smell like a flower I can’t quite name. I never ever want you to fade.”
Avery’s lips parted ever so slightly, as if inhaling his words. In the dim light, he could have sworn she wanted a kiss, and the anticipation made him quiver. She licked her lower lip and studied him, and he wished he could read the thoughts spinning through her beautiful mind. Avery rose on her tiptoes and came closer, reducing the distance between them to mere millimeters.
Time ground to a halt. Stars collided. Planets aligned. Miles closed his eyes.
