Nope. Too late for that. Her feelings for Trace had been complicated from day one.
“And why won’t you tell me who it is?” Delaney added with a little pout.
“Because I don’t want to talk about it.”
Delaney narrowed her eyes and sat back, crossing her arms. “I know him, don’t I?”
“You know everyone.” She pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “And, frankly, it’s none of your business.”
“Ouch.” Delaney feigned hurt for all of two seconds before her eyes sparked. “Is it one of Ethan’s friends? Is that why you don’t want to tell me?”
“No. Delaney, just—”
“Oh, it’s someone I wouldn’t like, isn’t it? Or someone Phoebe wouldn’t like. That makes total sense. You always hated rocking the boat. You don’t want to upset anyone. Well, now you have to tell me.” She grinned. “Come on, Avery, I’m not going to give you shit—too much. And I won’t tell Phoebe—right away.”
Avery laughed as she stood. “I’m headed to Phoebe’s to work. Please don’t bring this up. I may not have wanted to rock the boat when I was a kid, but if you tell Phoebe, I’ll find a way to sink the damn boat and make it all your fault.”
Avery pulled open the office door and walked toward the exterior door through the shell and all the activity with a profound sense of relief.
Bullet dodged.
Until she heard Delaney following her, muttering, “When in the hell would you have time to meet—” Her sister’s gasp ripped through Avery like ice. “No. No, no, no.”
Delaney’s quickening footsteps made dread curl in Avery’s gut.
Her sister cut in front of Avery just before she reached the door and put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were serious when she said, “Tell me it’s not Trace.”
Avery huffed an exhausted breath, tilted her head, and pretended fire and ice weren’t battling for control in her gut. “Unless you want to be the one up until midnight making my highly requested strawberry balsamic caramels, please get out of the way.”
“Just tell me it’s not Trace, and I’ll let it go.”
Avery couldn’t lie. She could skirt issues, she could distract, she could avoid, but she couldn’t lie. And Delaney knew it. But at this point, Avery didn’t even want to lie. She was physically exhausted from the night, emotionally exhausted from struggling over her feelings for Trace, mentally exhausted from trying to run a business that barely even existed while that business was bleeding her dry—financially, emotionally, and physically.
But she was no longer the little girl who would scurry away and try to hide either. And as much as she still loved to please, that desire didn’t own her. So she just sighed and held Delaney’s gaze silently.
Delaney’s pretty face tightened with frustration. She grabbed both Avery’s arms and shook her a little. “Avery. No. You can’t afford to get involved with someone you work with. Especially not Trace.”
Turbulence kicked up in her gut. “If you were listening to me, you would have heard me say we’re not involved. We agreed to one night. Which is over.” A fact that still left Avery unsettled. Especially after that look in his eyes this morning. Especially with his words still replaying over in Avery’s head. “Yeah, well, I know that was the plan, but last night—”
“And I know you’ve had bad experiences with men and work in the past,” Avery went on, “but that doesn’t mean everyone does. I’m also a very grown adult who’s made her own decisions for the last eight years. Very grown-up decisions. They may not have all been perfect, but I’m extremely capable, so please don’t treat me like the little girl you left all those years ago.”
This time, the hurt darkening Delaney’s eyes was real, and Avery immediately realized she’d used the wrong words.
“Damn, I didn’t mean it that way. I meant I may still be your little sister, but I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You’re right.” Delaney nodded, but her teasing humor had evaporated, replaced by true concern. “I just want this business to work for you. You’ve put everything you have into it. It’s your dream, and I don’t want anything to jeopardize that. Trace . . .” Delaney closed her eyes and sighed. “He’s a good guy. A great guy. I would never have hired him if he weren’t. But he’s got a lot of scars, and people with scars do unpredictable things. He’s also got a lot on his plate trying to manage the café and his dad. He’s the key to getting that café built on time and within budget. You’re both balancing very precariously on high wires right now. If a gust of wind came from the wrong direction . . .”
Avery’s dream could fall to its death. “It’s not going to go bad because he and I had a clear understanding before anything happened, because we both want the same thing, and because we’re both adults.”
Delaney took another breath and studied her sister. Avery waited, knowing Delaney hadn’t said everything she needed to say. “You know he’s a player.”
Avery’s stomach tightened. “Of course. Who doesn’t?”
“You know he was screwed over by his fiancée, and he’s not a guy who’s going to trust enough to settle down.”
No, she hadn’t known anything about a fiancée, but she said, “Hello, same. Trace doesn’t have any scars on me.”
“Yeah, he does.” With sadness in her eyes, Delaney lifted her brows. “Prison?”