“Good. Because it’s my new favorite job.”
Then with a laugh, he picked me up and f
lung me over his shoulder, snickering all the way to the kitchen.
I grabbed onto his ass and held on.
For safety.
It had nothing to do with the fact I liked how tight his ass felt under my fingers; how the muscles flexed and moved as he walked.
Not at all.
Daniel
If I thought Avery looked nervous when we met at the studio—or yesterday in the stable—it was nothing compared to the way she looked at this moment. She was positively green, and I wondered if she was going to throw up in my truck. I glanced behind me at the blanket on the backseat, wondering if maybe I should put it in her lap. Not that there was much to throw up—she had barely sipped her beloved coffee earlier, but it might come in handy. Stretching my arm, I snagged it off the seat and draped it over the console. She didn’t even move.
She was so tense, I was certain if I touched her the wrong way, she would shatter to a million little Avery pieces right there in front of me.
I turned in my seat, sliding my hand along the back of her neck as carefully as possible, as I called her name.
Her eyes remained locked ahead, her body rigid. Cars already lined the driveway of my sister’s place. I knew my parents had arrived, Steven was home, and Caitlin’s beloved Jeep was parked out front. I tried again, my fingers kneading the back of her neck a little more firmly.
“Avery . . . Sprite. Look at me.”
Her eyes met mine—anxious, silvery-green so filled with panic, my heart ached for her.
“Hey. My parents will like you. My sister already does. Please don’t look like that. It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”
“Is it her birthday?” she gasped out.
“What? Who?”
“Your niece—is it her birthday?”
I shook my head, completely confused. “No. Why?”
Avery’s shaky finger pointed out the van I hadn’t noticed parked on the road. I bit back the laughter threatening to escape. Glancing down the street, I indicated the house two doors down, the front gate covered in balloons. “That is the Wilson’s house. Caitlin told me it was their daughter’s birthday today. I’m certain that’s where Rusty the Clown’s traveling circus is. Don’t worry.”
“Not–not at your sisters?”
“No. Not at Caitlin’s.”
“Oh.” She offered me a weak smile as a shaky sigh escaped her lips. “I don’t think I could handle a clown and your family today.”
She looked at me again, panicked. “You don’t think he’ll do any door-to-door sales stuff, do you? The clowns won’t wander the neighborhood?”
I buried my hand into her thick curls, leaning over the console. “Do you think I’d let a clown come near you, Sprite? That fucker would find his big red shoes up his ass and be face first on the road before I’d let him close. No door-to-door. No clowns. Period.”
“Really?”
I kissed her. Hard. “Really.” I kissed her again. “Better?”
“Yeah.”
“Now, are you ready to come meet my family? I assure you, they may act like clowns, but none of them look the part.”
Reassured of no ninja clown attacks, she relaxed a little, the color returning to her cheeks. I exhaled in gratitude that the blanket probably was not needed.