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Charlee’s laughter bounces off the walls as she follows me into the hallway and down the stairs. “Are you nervous for Avery to meet your dad?”
“He already likes him,” I tell her, filling a box with my dad’s favorite beers from behind the bar. “That’s way more than I can say for Aaron.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not exactly hard, babe. Aaron fucking sucked.” Leaning over the bar, she cranes her head, trying to sneak a peek out the windows. “What kinda car does Avery have?”
“I actually have no idea.” When he insisted on driving, I thought he meant he’d have his driver pick us up in the Bentley. The way he laughed in my face told me how wrong I was.
“Well, knowing Avery, it’ll have all the bells and whistles.”
I’m sure she’s right, but so long as it’s safe for Vivi, I really don’t care.
I pop the front door to the brewery open, stepping into the hot sunshine, and pause at the sight before me.
“Interesting,” Charlee hums approvingly, pushing past me. “Well, well, well, Mr. Beck. Once again, you surprise me. Look at this baby.” She pets the hood of his glossy, candy apple red truck. “This thing is huge!” She turns back to me, brows pumping. “Hey, you should take him to the drive-in and let him screw your brains out in the back.”
“I like the sounds of that,” Avery purrs as he pops a kiss on my cheek. He takes my bag off my shoulder, box of beer from my arms. “What were you expecting, Charlee?”
“I donno, like, an Aston Martin or something. Lamborghini?” She lifts both shoulders. “Those are about the only fancy car names I know.”
He chuckles, closing the latch on the truck bed once all of my things are tucked safely away. “I’m rich, not ostentatious.”
I try to fight my snort. I swear, I do. But the pointed glare Avery flashes my way lets me know I’m doing a piss-poor job.
Charlee leans through my window. “Have a good weekend, lovers. Say hi to Gavin for me,” she adds with the flirty flick of her brows.
“Your dad?” Avery clarifies as Charlee bounces away.
“Uh huh.”
“So which Thompson is she after, your dad or your brother?”
I sigh. “Both, apparently.”
Avery chuckles, sliding his sunglasses on. God, they really kick that fuck-me status into high gear. He flashes me a ten-out-of-ten grin, the kind that makes me slam my thighs together. “You ready to go home, baby?”
Oh, that sounds good.
“Ready.”
***
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Avery
Claire’s right leg starts bouncing a mile a minute as soon as we pull onto her dad’s street. It’s one of those long and winding ones, all tree-lined and quiet. The houses are few and far between. We pass farm fields and a cherry orchard, and Claire points out Charlee and Dex’s childhood home, where their own dad still lives.
“We’re just up there, on the right.” She points to rows on rows of perfectly pruned grapevines and the people in wide-brimmed hats who are tending to them. “Just past the winery.”
Looking around, I get it. I understand why Claire told me she was a country girl at heart, why, even after a few years in the city, Toronto is still too loud and busy for her. Even though it’s only just over an hour away—if you manage to miss the shitstorm that is Toronto traffic—it’s an entirely different world out here. Everyone moves at their own pace, like they’re content to just soak up every bit of nature, enjoy the peace and quiet.
We pass the driveway to the winery and an older man looks up from where he’s talking with a small group of people, inspecting some grapes. His eyes take in Claire, hanging halfway out the window, and his whole face lights up.
“Hi John!” Claire yells out the window as we drive by.
“You better come see me, Miss Claire Bear!” he shouts back.
My giddy girl twists my way. “That’s John. He owns the winery and also a few vineyards in France. I’ve known him my whole life. He gave me my first taste of wine when I was twelve.” Her face screws up with disgust. “I hated it.”
