He typed a message and hit send.
Avery: I’m sorry.
Simple. Direct. But was it enough?
A minute passed, then another.
Legs: Yes, you are.
A smile tugged at his lips. It wasn’t afuck off. Even better, she was typing again.
Stop…start…stop.
Legs: Well?
Avery chuckled. Stubborn woman couldn’t bring herself to ask again and was making him do it.
Avery: Are you free for lunch?
Chapter Four
The rundown diner that Legs suggested was packed, but Avery had managed to get here early—because he needed this to work out—and secured a booth in the back. The vinyl was cracked, and a spring poked his ass, but she’d assured him the food was good.
The clink of dishes and the hiss of meat on the grill filled the air. A fluorescent light overhead flickered and buzzed. And the hum of conversation idled on low. But he didn’t care about the ambiance or the cuisine.
He wasn’t here to seduce her. His primary goal was to convince her that his fake dating plan was in her best interests and to return to work with a big fuck off for Melody and Charlotte. Not exactly in those words because, while they were driving him crazy, he loved them. They just needed to stay in their own lane.
The bell over the door jingled.
Ah, Legs. Hotter than he remembered.
And five minutes late. Not flustered. Not apologetic. Like someone who knew exactly how much space she was willing to give and no more.
The rain had stopped, but the temperature had dropped. A thick navy coat, serviceable and a bit worn, hid the curves he’d explored in the catering van. Faded jeans encased long, slender legs to perfection.
Pushing the hood back, she searched the diner. The second her eyes landed on him, they rounded as if she hadn’t expected him to show up, then narrowed. Chin high, she strode toward him, hips swaying, scuffed boots tapping on the black and green tiles, and a messy pile of auburn hair on top of her head.
The urge to unravel it and watch it spill down her back, to watchherunravel beneath him had Avery stretching out his legs to make room in his pants. This was not about getting his dick wet, and scaring her off was counterproductive to his plan.
One arm across the back of the seat, he smiled as she stopped in front of him to remove her coat. “I’m glad you didn’t change your mind.”
“I almost did. This is a dumb idea.”
He let that go. She was here. That was half the battle and pretty much told him she needed him as much as he needed her.
She tossed the coat and a pair of gloves on the seat across from him but left on a pale blue scarf that looked like the ones his grandmother used to crochet for him and his brothers every Christmas. He still had the last one she’d given him before she died.
Who made this one for her?
Whatever. Get on with it.
Sliding into the booth, Legs squared her shoulders beneath a navy sweatshirt with a peeling logo no longer recognizable but curving around her tits like the backroads winding through the rolling hills just north of Houston.
She blew into her cupped hands, drawing his attention to her face. Her cheeks were pink from the cold wind, her nose red and tipped up on the end. Delicate brows the color of autumn leaves formed a V over expectant blue eyes.
Avery lifted a hand to signal the teenager who’d bounced between him and the long counter filled with customers. “Do you mind if I order before we begin negotiations?”
Legs shrugged, then startled as the server swept up to the booth.
