Beautifully Decadent (Beautifully Damaged Book 3) (37 page)

Dad and I were sitting in the living room; Avery had fallen asleep, curled up on the sofa, her head on my lap. It felt good, having Dad and Avery in my home. I had missed my dad, but I didn’t appreciate just how much until I had him back. It was a hell of a feeling, showing him what I’d done here, the life I had carved out for myself. I wanted him to be a part of that, wanted to help him get to a place where he’d feel a bit of what I felt.

“Has your guy learned anything about your mom?”

“I haven’t heard from him. I’ll call him, set up a time for us to meet.” Dad was across the room by the fireplace, his focus on the bottle in his hand, but his thoughts were miles away.

“You miss her.”

His head lifted, the truth of my statement right there to see. “Yeah. Especially watching you with Avery. What Lexie and I had was very similar. We were so young but it was just right, the kind of right I knew I’d never grow tired of. Instead of building a life like you’ve done here, I lost her and then I lost you. It’s amazing how quickly your life can shift. What you’ve found with her, hold onto to it, Rafe, because it comes around so rarely. She’s good for you, keeps you on your toes and yet she can’t stop staring at you anymore than you can with her.”

He was right. What I’d found with Avery didn’t come around every day. “We’re that obvious?”

“Yeah, but it’s good. That’s what life is all about. It isn’t about making money or getting the killer job or the fancy car. It’s those everyday moments strung together that make up a life. I’d sell my soul to have the everyday moments I witnessed the two of you sharing tonight.”

“It was like getting struck by lightning the day she walked into my life. Trace told me he’d hired a pastry chef, I expected a matronly woman, and then she appeared.”

“This Trace, the one who dropped her in your lap, you owe him, son, a debt you’ll never be able to repay.”

“I’m just beginning to realize the truth of that statement.”

“At least you see it. Some men have to lose it before they appreciate what they had.”

“You’re not talking about yourself.”

“No. I appreciated, I was just too young to do anything about it.”

“And what if you were to learn Mom was no longer married?”

“My gut reaction, seek her out and stake a claim, but she never once attempted to contact you. Me, I get, but her child? I don’t know. She’s a grown woman now, she can’t still be under the thumb of her dad, so maybe the woman I thought she was isn’t really who she is.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.” And I was, appreciated his situation all that much more after having met Avery. I couldn’t imagine being denied the chance of exploring this wild and intense attraction we shared all because of someone’s meddling.

“I’m not sorry, I got you.”

My eyes stung, my chest felt tight hearing him say that. Realizing the effect he had on me and graciously changing the subject he added, “I think I’m going to take you up on your invite. It’s late and I’ve had a few beers, best not to get pulled over for driving under the influence.”

“Good idea. Avery insisted on making up the second bedroom, I think she might have even put a mint on your pillow.”

He grinned. “She really is a goof, but definitely a keeper. Night, son.”

“Night, Dad.”

He had just reached the door when I called to him. “We lost a lot of time and I’ve got plenty of room. Think about moving in here.”

And I knew he really meant to when he said, “Thanks, son, I will.”

Avery recruited my dad to help with the gardens. I wasn’t surprised he’d agreed; the woman was a dynamo. Unstoppable when she had her mind set. Currently she stood in my front yard, dressed in overalls. No shit, overalls, a flannel shirt and fucking straw hat. She had a can of neon orange spray paint that she was using to create the lines of the garden beds she wanted us to dig. She was having entirely too much fun with that can of paint. Loki, who was acting more like the puppy he had been—the big yard in lieu of our daily walks in the park bummed him out since now that Avery walked him everyday, he was more animated—was running around Avery barking. She was likely going to spray paint my dog and the sorry, besotted animal didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

My dad wasn’t any better. Grinning at Avery, which only encouraged her to be more of a goof. And who the hell was I kidding; I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She was like this brilliant ball of energy, mesmerizing to watch. I hadn’t realized I was lonely until she drove into my life in that piece of shit car.

“Rafe, what do you think?” She called as she waved her arms wide to encompass the orange lines that now curved around the front of my house. “Why are you standing all the way back there?”

“I’m not interested in getting painted orange. It seems anything stationary for too long doesn’t stand a chance.”

Her hands on her hips were the precursor to her giving me lip. “I have only painted what I wanted painted, smart ass.”

“So that’s why your ass is orange and you’ve got a streak of it in your hair?”

“What?” She looked at my dad. “My hair isn’t orange. Is it?”

“Just a little.”

“A little? Come on, Dad. She is going to look in the mirror.”

“Okay, maybe more than a little.”

Most women of my acquaintance would, at this point, run screaming to the bathroom to ascertain the damage. Not Avery. Instead, she asked my dad, “Does it look good?”

“On you, yeah.”

“Cool.” And then those eyes landed on me again. “So are you coming over here or what?”

And it was while I stood in my front yard with my dad, looking at Avery doing a fair interpretation of a Beverly Hillbilly with orange paint, the color of a fucking traffic cone, streaking her hair that I realized I was in love with her. For the first time, I understood Trace and Lucien’s intensity when it came to their wives. Like Lucien, I was whipped; a fucking goner and I so didn’t care.

“Put the can of paint down and I’ll come over.”

Her nose wrinkled, she had a thought on that, but she did put the paint down. Reaching her side, I yanked her to me and kissed the scowl right off her face. She had an entirely different look about her when I took a step back.

“So are we digging this up or what?” I asked, knowing she was no longer thinking about garden beds.

Her eyes opened, but it took her a moment to find her balance, which pulled a grin from me. “You did that on purpose.”

She was right; she knew she was right, I didn’t need to confirm that for her.

Reaching for her shovel, I handed it to her. She smiled, and I knew exactly what she was thinking before she said, “I might be using this later, to bury not dig.”

Fucking goof.

Four hours later we were all covered in dirt and mud. My back ached, my arms were sore and if I never saw another plant or shovel, I would die a happy man. But I couldn’t lie; Avery’s vision in reality was perfect. The curves of the garden bed and the foliage of the plants she selected softened the front of the house bringing visual interest to what had been seriously lacking.

Avery was walking back and forth, studying the garden from every angle. “It’s perfect.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“God, I’m good. I can’t wait to get started on the other beds.”

“Let’s give ourselves some time to enjoy this one.”

She turned to me, a knowing smile on her face. “Backbreaking isn’t it?”

And yet she didn’t seem affected at all. “How are you not hurting right now?”

“I’m made of stronger stuff apparently.”

In response my dad roared with laughter. “I can admit, I hurt like a mother, so I’m going to grab a shower and then a cold beer. Maybe we should call for pizza.”

“Yeah, with avocado and bacon.”

My dad and I both looked at Avery like she sprouted up from the ground. “On your pizza? That’s sacrilege.”

“It’s delicious.”

“Pepperoni, sausage and mushrooms.”

“And onion.” Dad added.

“Yeah and onion.”

“Maybe I’ll let you have some of mine after you taste it and realize what you’ve been missing your whole life.”

She started for the carriage house and her ass in those overalls; I may have to rethink my feelings on them. “Avery.”

“Yeah,” she called from over her shoulder.

“Thank you. You’re right, it is perfect.”

She stopped walking, her head twisting around; the expression on her face rocked me. She looked a lot like how I felt. Her voice was soft, tenderness laced through the words. “You’re welcome.”

If my dad weren’t here, she’d be naked, flat on her back and writhing under me. The idea was so appealing, I had to change the subject or else my dad would be getting a show. “Your choice of pizza toppings though is just fucking wrong.”

I had the joy of watching her narrow her eyes, she even stuck her tongue out at me, before she turned on her heel and disappeared into the carriage house.

I was still grinning when the pizza arrived an hour later.

In my truck, after delivering a coffee table to a client, I kept seeing Avery in her overalls, the memory making me hard. Shifting my thoughts before I threw caution to the wind and kidnapped her from work, I pondered the shit with Melody. The cops hadn’t laughed us out of the precinct, but just barely. They took down the little information Melody could provide and assured us the matter would be given the attention it deserved. I couldn’t help thinking about that final scene in
Raiders of the Lost Ark
and how the ark was stored in that vast warehouse. I suspected her report would receive similar attention.

Melody had taken my advice and left town. The more I thought on the situation, the less sense it made. Someone thought I had something and attempted to break in. Not cool, definitely something that concerned me. But on the other hand, they had asked for Melody’s help and were almost lazy in the way they were going about looking for whatever it was they wanted. I wasn’t sure if the person behind this now was the same person who had sought the disc years before because they didn’t seem like a threat, just a nuisance. I needed a sounding board. Hitting the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel, I heard Lucien’s voice over my truck’s speakers.

“Rafe, what’s up?”

“Are you busy now?”

“No why?”

“You’re not going to believe what I’ve learned. Can you call Josh and Trace? I’ll get my dad so I can tell you all at once.”

“It doesn’t sound good.”

“I don’t know what the fuck it is.”

“We’ll be here.” The line went dead.

The garage where Dad worked wasn’t too far from my house and when I arrived, he was out front with a customer. He saw me and jerked his head in acknowledgment. I looked around as I climbed from my truck. The place did well, based on the number of cars in the parking lot.

Dad approached. “Hey, Rafe. What’s up?”

“Have you had your lunch break yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Will you come with me? You’re going to meet my friends.”

“Sure.”

A half an hour later we were stepping into Allegro; Lucien and Josh were already there as was Trace.

Trace stepped up to Dad as soon as we entered. “Mr. McKenzie, Trace Montgomery.”

“Trace, nice to meet you.”

Lucien offered Dad his hand. “Lucien Black and this is Josh O’Donnell.”