Wild Kisses (Wildwood 2)

She turned right instead of left, dodging his interference, and placed a cake plate on top of the counter holding lotto tickets. She’d have to move it, but she’d worry about that later.

“Hey, Joe, Marv,” she greeted some regulars. “Take a truffle home to your wives.”

“Austin,” Rita said, her voice as soft and pleasant as pudding, “there really isn’t enough space back here for a man as big as you. And we’re really busy.”

He ignored Rita, a lot like Avery was ignoring him. She crouched to pick up another cake plate, and Austin’s hand closed around her forearm.

“Avery.” His bark came from behind clenched teeth.

Avery couldn’t take her eyes off his hand on her arm. Her mind flashed back to her father and the beatings she’d received. Every one had started with a hand on her arm just like this. Her insides chilled and quivered. But her mind continued to work. This was wrong. And she didn’t have to take it from anyone. Ever. For any reason. That was only one of a thousand things she’d learned during the last eight years.

Her gaze held on a ring he wore. Some kind of law enforcement ring with a TO PROTECT AND SERVE slogan wrapping the eagle on the front and the name HAYES carved into the design on the side. She reached for her phone, which was sitting on top of the tote right in front of her. “What time—”

“It doesn’t matter what time it is.” He spoke low, but the rise in Rita’s voice as she helped customers told Avery people were noticing. She didn’t need people noticing. She couldn’t afford negative gossip at this stage of her business’s growth. She needed Austin to back off and stay off. “I’m trying to tell you that Hutton is bad news. Delaney got him cheap, and you get what you pay for. He’s gonna fuck up. All cons fuck up.”

Avery moved her thumb over the phone and opened her camera. She didn’t know why her fingers weren’t shaking because she felt as if she were vibrating on the inside—with fury. With a sense of futility and weakness so ingrained she wanted to scream with it. Her father, David, the military, and now Austin. She was dead sick and tired of feeling helpless.

“He’s a criminal,” Austin rasped in her ear. “And he lived with other criminals like a pack animal for years. You’re not safe with him. And you shouldn’t be putting everything you have in his hands.”

She clicked the shutter of her camera.

He shook her by the arm. “Are you listening to me?”

“Whose hands do you think I should put my future in?” She held her phone steady and looked up at him, met his gaze deliberately, and said, “Yours?”

Click.

His dark gaze darted to her phone, then to his hand on her arm. He released it as if she were on fire, leaving a beautiful white print where he’d been squeezing the blood out of her skin. Her focus never had to leave his face to know it would be visually stunning. She’d learned that in childhood.

Click.

She slid her phone into her back pocket and stood, then tilted her head and gave him her best Stepford Wife smile—she’d learned that after she left home. Turning herself into the perfect army wife may not have saved her marriage, but it might prove useful in other aspects of life.

“Actually, the time does matter, because I happen to be on my way to Mrs. Holland’s house to deliver Sheriff Holland’s birthday cake. Is there anything—you know, any photos, any video clips, any . . . anything you’d like me to pass on while I’m there?”

Hands on hips, Austin pressed his mouth into a hard line. Avery never looked away.

“Don’t fuck with me, Avery.”

She lowered her voice for Austin’s ears only. “I may have left here a scared little girl, but I had my own training over the last eight years. If you thought Delaney was a bitch, you ain’t seen nothin’. So take your own advice.” She leaned back and switched into Stepford Wife mode again. “Would you like a truffle for the road?”

He started to turn.

“Oh, and Austin, just FYI, those cameras Trace installed at the beginning of the renovation before I got to town, they’re still there, they’re still remote, and their footage still feeds directly to a server.”

By his I’ll-kill-you-later look, she knew he’d caught the reference to his previous threat toward Delaney that had been saved by those cameras, as well as the reference to the ability to catch any future threats swimming in his head now, should he decide to act on them at the café.

Avery waited until Austin had peeled out of the parking lot to turn to Rita, who met her gaze with worried, shocked eyes and asked, “Are you okay?”

Avery laughed with far more relief than humor. “As in, am I crazy? Yeah, I’m probably a little crazy, but yeah, I’m also okay. Do you mind taking care of these when you have time? The samples are out. All you need to do is slide the goodies into their trays.”

“Of course not, honey.”

She kissed Rita’s cheek. “You’re a peach.”

Avery wandered from the store, drained and numb. She could pull out the strong and use it when necessary, but the truth was, the last eight years had taken their toll. In her two short months home, Avery had quickly adapted to having family around her. Having Trace around her. They shored her up so she didn’t have to be strong all the time, and she really enjoyed the stability that created in this crazy world. The truth was, being strong and alone wasn’t all that. It also wore her the hell out.

Avery dropped into the driver’s seat of the Jeep, ready to find a little peace of mind for a change. Maybe once she found it, she could even figure out what to do about Trace.