Phoebe followed with a hug for Avery and a warm squeeze to Trace’s forearm.
&nbs
p; Zane walked out with Delaney and Ethan and paused on the porch. “Do you girls ever hear from Chloe? I was hoping to see her pop up in town since the two of you were back.”
“Last I talked to her,” Avery said, brows lifted, “she was teaching yoga in Bali.”
Zane’s mouth dropped open. “Bali?”
“Bali.”
“Huh. Rough life.”
Avery shrugged. “It may seem glamorous, but in a month, she’ll call and probably be somewhere in Africa building houses, or in Belize saving turtles, or in Mississippi waiting tables. She hasn’t quite found whatever it is she’s looking for. When I talk to her again, I’m going to offer her a job at the café.” Avery’s beautiful face broke into a grin. “I can’t wait to hear how she responds to that.”
“Keep me posted,” Zane said. He promised Trace he’d call and talk about their dad’s logistics in the morning.
Before Ethan and Delaney headed down the steps to their cars, her sister gave both Avery and Trace a pointed look. “Be good now.”
Standing together, watching the trail of cars flow toward the country road, Trace both relished the quiet and dreaded leaving. “Zane’s nursed a wicked crush on Chloe since sixth grade.”
Avery chuckled. “Along with every other male in Wildwood. The wild little Hart blonde. I know a lot of people think Delaney was the craziest, but that’s only because they’d never experienced how well Chloe could lie, charm, and con anyone and everyone. Zane was lucky she never took an interest in him. In her short twenty-four years, she’s left a trail of broken hearts around the world.”
“Think she’ll come back to take a job at the café?”
“Hell no,” Avery laughed. “But a girl can dream. I miss her. She’s always so upbeat and positive no matter what. Always fun, larger than life. The girl everyone wants to be, you know?”
“Hmm.” Trace didn’t know. He’d known Chloe only in passing, and even though her type was the kind of woman he’d sought out for years, the description didn’t appeal to him now. Now only Avery appealed to him. Which brought his mind around to Avery’s older sister. “Why did Delaney tell us to be good?”
Avery heaved a sigh, one that sounded exhausted. “She has my aunt’s intuition. She knows we slept together and isn’t thrilled with the idea.”
Trace cut a look at her, shock burning in his gut. “You told her?”
Avery lifted a shoulder. “Only after she’d already guessed.”
Right. Fucking around with an ex-con wasn’t exactly news to write home about.
“Trace,” she said, “I’m so sorry about what I said earlier. I know that doesn’t make up for it, but I didn’t mean to lump you in with all ex-convicts. I was just—”
“You were right.” Instead of touching her the way he wanted to, he kept his hands on the railing and held tight to keep them there. Then looked toward the darkness. “I’m sorry I even brought JT onto the property. He won’t be back. I fired him.”
She rested her hip against the railing. “What happened?”
“Found the key to the café in his jacket pocket. It was brand-new, still shiny. He must have lifted my key and had one made. He wouldn’t have had access to yours.”
A soft breath exited her lungs, and a moment of silence stretched between them. Then she finally said, “I’m sorry he disappointed you.”
That sparkle of compassion was all it took for Trace’s barriers to melt away. But the guilt remained. “And I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.” He met her gaze again. “I’ll get the roof done tomorrow myself, then start on the finish work. I promise you, Avery—I’ll have this café ready for your opening day.”
She searched his eyes, then nodded and stroked a hand over his arm. “I know you will.”
A warm, tight feeling gathered at the center of his body. She had every right to doubt him, yet didn’t. Every reason to back away, yet stepped closer.
“Thanks for helping out with my dad. I know he’s the last thing you needed to deal with on top of everything else today.”
“If I wasn’t so stretched thin for time,” she said, “I’d offer to have him hang with me while I bake. He’s quite the piano player. I could listen to that all day.”
“He remembered?” Trace asked, stunned. “He actually played?”