Chapter 8
Country music drifted over the Pub and Grill as Richard lifted his glass toward Ava’s. “Here’s to definitelynotrenting out any of the places we checked out today.”
Ava trilled out a laugh and clinked her icy stein to his. “Cheers to that, indeed.” She smiled at him over the frothy foam as she brought the draft to her mouth. She took a sip, then dabbed at her upper lip.
Richard did the same, enjoying the camaraderie between them. It was the same comfortable companionship they’d discovered while they sat on the floor in the office while sorting through one bill after the next. They might have gotten off to a rough start today, with the awkward conversation about her family as they left. Not to mention the agitation that sparked up at Jack’s Hardware and Office Supply store.
But in the time that followed, while Ava inspected one potential rental unit after the next, they’d found their common ground. Like the repulsion they both felt over the horrid smell of cat urine in the otherwise promising condo on the corner of Main. And the major aversion to renting the basement apartment where a cleanup crew was sopping up the mess of a sewage problem that, according to the landlord, happened “only sometimes.”
“I didn’t know I was looking at a condo that was previously owned by the town’s cat lady,” Ava said as she reached for a french fry. She dipped it in the small ketchup cup on her plate and took a bite.
“No kidding,” Richard said with a laugh. “Or that the landlord of the next place had the plumber on speed dial so he could come sop up the sewage before it soaked into the tenants couch cushions.” He shuddered at the mere image as Ava tossed her head back in laughter.
“Disgusting!” She sighed and picked up her hamburger next.
Richard did the same, inwardly enjoying the fact that Ava had actually ordered the same thing as him. He would have pegged her for a salad and iced tea kind of gal. The truth was, she’d been surprising him from the moment they’d met. In all of the best ways, too.
Sure, there’d been a few things that had rubbed him wrong. Like her defensive response to his inquiry about her family back home, but that only added to the mystery of who she was. He wanted to know more. To know all he could. But how could he get her to see that she didn’t need to move out of the Homestead and get a place of her own in town? Was it simply that she felt like it was too much to ask of everyone, or did she secretly want the distance? She was too polite to tell him. A fact that made him crazy. He couldn’t very well keep pressing the issue and insisting that she stay at the inn with them when what she really wanted was to get away.
Similar thoughts went through his mind until Ava spoke up again. “Wonder if I should ask Jack about his sister’s place after all. At least we know her brother’s decent.”
Richard felt his eyes widen. “We know no such thing,” he assured.
“Jack owns and operates that whole store,” Ava retorted.
“That doesn’t mean he’s not a rapist.”
Ava choked on her drink and began patting at her chest through coughs.
Okay, so maybe that was extreme.
“Rapist?” she squealed before coughing some more.
Richard glanced over his shoulders before setting his gaze back on her. “You know what I mean. The fact that someone is accomplished doesn’t mean they’re of good, moral character.”
“Good moral character,” she repeated. But then her face turned thoughtful. After a short moment she began to nod. “You’re right. Of course. I’m used to seeing things a little differently, I guess. I’m not worried so much about random acquaintances harming me. I’m more concerned about the ones that I allow to get close.”
Something about that statement caused Richard to wince.Hadsomeone close to her hurt her? And how hard would it be then, for someone to get close to her now?
He guessed that her relationship with Maverick could answer that question. He’d assumed that his brother hadn’t made ground because he wasn’t her type. But it was possible that he hadn’t made any progress in that area because no one could.
It felt as if someone had stomped the sandcastle he’d only started to build. Stomped it hard with both feet. The picture he’d whipped up in his head—some imaginary idea of a possible future with her—had crumbled before he even had a chance to build it.
“Hey,” she said, pulling him from his musings. “On the way back, why don’t we swing by the Lee’s Market and get Maverick some of his favorite candy?”
Richard held her gaze for a blink. “Do youknowwhat his favorite candy is?” Becausehesure didn’t.
She nodded. “Black licorice and sour gummies.”
Richard cringed. “I hate black licorice.”
That dimple sank into her cheek. “I know. That’s what Maverick said. He also told me what youdolike.” She left off there, and Richard took the bait.
“What?” He’d feel like a real schmuck if Maverick was right.
“Sugar Babies,” she said.
Dang, he was right.
