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Maybe it would, he considered. So why worry?
He slipped out of bed, a little surprised when she didn’t stir. He eased the door of the bathroom closed, studied the glass shower with pleasure.
“Let’s give you a spin, baby,” he murmured.
He tested out the jets, the rain head—and, sniffing at the green tea and ginger shower gel, decided, with considerable relief, it wasn’t too girly.
By the time he reached for one of the fluffy bath sheets, he was awake, alert—and decided he needed coffee, pretty much now.
Shaving could definitely wait.
He pulled on jeans, tossed a flannel shirt over a thermal. He decided against the work boots—too noisy on the stairs—and settled on socks.
And still, Avery didn’t stir.
He slipped out of the room, headed downstairs, and didn’t hear a sound until he turned toward the kitchen. From there he followed the scents, and the murmur of female voices.
“Good morning, sweetie.” Bright-eyed and busy, his aunt offered him a welcoming smile as she set bacon to drain. “Coffee?”
“Name your price.”
She puckered her lips, took his quick kiss before reaching for the pot.
“What’s this?” he asked gesturing toward the white chef’s coats both she and Hope wore.
“We thought it presented a clean look,” Hope told him. “A little more upscale than aprons.”
“I like.” With the speed of experience, he snatched a slice of bacon before Carolee could slap his hand away.
She pointed at him. “No filching. Breakfast starts in a half hour.”
“But there’s bacon now. How’d you like The Penthouse?”
“I felt like a queen. I was so damn tired, but I just had to wander all over, sit on every chair awhile.” She shook her head, laughing at herself. “I kept thinking it was like a dream. I remember when Justine and I picked out those fabrics. And there I was sitting on them.”
“How’d you like your room?” Hope asked him.
“It was great. Made me wish I’d worn a fedora. I think everybody must’ve settled right in once we called it a night. And everybody must still be settled right in because I didn’t hear anyone moving around when I came down.”
“Guests are allowed to sleep in. But if you’re hungry, we can fix you up pretty quick.”
“I’m okay.” But he grabbed another slice of bacon while his aunt had her back turned. “Maybe I’ll take some coffee up to Avery.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” Then Carolee narrowed her eyes when he bit into the second slice of bacon. “And sneaky.”
Hope poured the coffee, doctored it Avery’s way. “Tell her to take her time. That’s what chafing dishes are for.”
He went back up, slipped back inside. She’d stirred, he noted—enough to stretch diagonally across the bed. There may not be a lot of her, he mused, but given the chance she could fill the best part of a bed all on her own.
He sat on the corner, leaned down and kissed her cheek. When that didn’t work, he brushed a hand up and down her arm. Giving up on the gentle awakening, he pinched her.
“What! Ow! Huh?”
“I wanted to be sure you were still alive.”
“I was . . .” Shifting a little, she rubbed her fingers over glassy eyes. “In a Harry dream.”
“A what?”
“Clare’s Harry. He has these weird, vivid dreams. I had a Harry dream about green giraffes with red splotches. It sounds Christmassy and cheerful, but no. I was on one in this stampede, and dressed like Lady Gaga. I think. Is that coffee?”
“Yeah, I think you need it.”
“Thanks. And the Animal Crackers monkey was on one, chasing me. He had teeth.”
“Does that happen often?”
“No, thank God. But we drank all that champagne last night. After,” she added with a sleepy smile. “It may have played into it. You’re all dressed. What time—” Her eyes popped wide now as she scanned the clock. “Shit! It’s almost eight.”
“Shocking.”
“I was going to be up by seven to help Hope and Carolee with breakfast.”
“They’ve got it handled. Relax.” He squeezed in beside her, bumped her over a bit more, then picked up the remote. “Watch this.”
He switched on the TV. “We can kick back right here, drink coffee, and check out what’s happening in the world.”
“I’ve heard of this concept.” She settled back on the pillows beside him, sipped her coffee. “I like it. It’s nice.”
“Yeah.” He draped an arm around her so they sat hip-to-hip. “It is.”
“Is everyone up?”
“No one’s up.”
She relaxed a little more. “Then I don’t have to feel guilty. It’s like a mini-vacation.”
“A morning vacation?”
“It works for me.”
The idea of it inspired another. “Why don’t we extend it? Want to go to a movie tonight?”
“Oh.” She angled her face up to his. “I’m closing tonight.”
“Tomorrow then.”
“Is there something you want to see?”
“We’ll find something.”
“No slasher flicks—or anything with monkeys.”
“I can work with that. Why don’t I pick you up about six? We’ll get something to eat first.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Yeah, he thought, it did. And as a next step, next move, not bad.
* * *
THINKING SPRING IN the bitter entrance of February, Avery sat in the back of Hope’s car, using her phone to search for wedding dresses.
“I’m worried I left this too late.” Clare fretted in the front seat. “We should’ve done this before the holidays.”
“Plenty of time,” Hope assured her. “This is a wonderful boutique. And if you don’t find just what you want there, I have two more.”
“Not white. My dress shouldn’t be white.”
“Every bride’s entitled to white,” Hope corrected. “But more, every bride’s entitled to whatever color, whatever style, whatever wedding dress suits her. Don’t go into this with limitations.”
“We should’ve stuck with the idea of a small, family-only afternoon wedding. But—”
“Beckett hasn’t done this before.” While she searched and scrolled, Avery listed the reasons Clare had already laid out. “The boys are excited. You want something special and memorable for you and Beckett. You have the perfect venue with the inn. Need more?”
“No.” Clare glanced over her shoulder. “Have you found anything?”
“Sorry. I keep getting distracted by the big white dresses. I mean look at this. It’s art.”
She offered the screen to Clare. “Gorgeous for a first wedding, and one with an unlimited budget. God, look at that train, and the beadwork on the skirt. Miles of skirt.”
“I love
it, but I could never pull that off.” Avery shook her head. “I’d drown in a dress that big.”
Hope flicked a glance in the rearview. “Is there something we should know?”
“I’m short?”
“About you and Owen—and wedding dresses.”
“About— No!” Avery took the phone back, gave the dress one last look, then scrolled on. “It’s knee-jerk for a woman to imagine herself in a wedding dress when in the wedding dress mode.”
“But things are good.” Clare shifted, angling back.
“Really good. We’re both crazy busy, but we’ve actually managed to go out a couple times. You know, to those places where other people bring you food that yet other people have cooked? Plus, I’m trying out potential MacT’s dishes on him. He’s a good test subject.”
“Still fluttering?” Hope asked her.
“Yeah, still fluttering. And now there’s this tugging. It’s good, but it’s a little unnerving.”
“I know,” Clare said with a smile.
“It’s not like you and Beckett.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s me and Owen, and we’re . . . I don’t know exactly. Anyway,
