Wild Kisses (Wildwood 2)

SIXTEEN

Avery was exhausted by the time she filled her cases at Finley’s Market with fresh desserts. She might have gotten a top-of-the-world jump start on her afternoon, thanks to Trace’s midday delight earlier, but now at 6:00 p.m., after hours of fielding gossip over the events at the café earlier, she felt annoyed and oddly blue. Avery kept her head down, hoping everyone could read the don’t-even-think-about-bringing-it-up tension in her expression.

She knew chatter over the search would die down in a day or two. And she knew the truth about Trace. But the looks in people’s eyes when they asked her about the incident—their doubt in Trace, their concern for Avery’s well-being in his presence, and their twisted excitement over something “else” bad happening at the “The Bad Seed,” as if the building would forever be the dive that drew trouble—was testing her patience and her good will.

“What did you bring us today?” Shannon’s voice turned Avery’s attention to one of the store’s owners, who was also one of Avery’s good friends from high school. Her bright smile put a little sparkle back in Avery’s day.

“Nothing but the best sugary goodness ever, and some exclusive new recipes.”

“Oooh,” Shannon cooed, eyeing the case. “Tell.”

Avery piled the last of the brownies just so, creating the most attractive display when viewed from

the front. “This is my trifecta of brownies.” She pressed her finger to the top shelf. “These are my milky way caramel fantasy chews—”

“Oh my God.” Shannon rested one hand on her pregnant belly, her big dark eyes glazing over.

Avery grinned and moved her hand down a tray. “These are my pumpkin-kissed cheesecake bites.”

“Oh dear.”

“And these”—she pointed to the last shelf—“are my Bailey’s Irish Cream truffle twists.”

“Oh.” The hand Shannon had resting on her belly jumped, and she started laughing. “He really liked the sound of those. Must take after his daddy. Oh!” Another jump. “Jeez, kid.”

She grabbed Avery’s hand, laid it in the same spot, and covered it with hers. As if his mother had orchestrated it, the baby kicked again. Avery sucked a breath and laughed, an airy, fluttery, slightly uneasy laugh, not quite sure how she felt about the whole baby thing.

“Wow,” she said, pulling her hand away. “He’s strong.”

“My ribs and my back are none too happy about that.”

But no one would know. Shannon was glowing from the inside out.

A pang of mixed emotions kept Avery’s belly floating for an uncomfortable stretch, while Shannon chattered about the pregnancy, then about business at the store. Avery listened with one ear while her mind drifted to the sweet bundle of love growing inside Shannon and how desperately Avery had wanted a baby once upon a time. In the early years, when she’d believed she and David would be married forever and those long deployments had become the loneliest stretches of her life.

As soon as she’d realized their marriage needed real work, the idea of a baby drifted to the farthest reaches of her mind. After her childhood, bringing a baby into a turbulent world had been the very last thing she wanted to do.

But now she thought of Trace, of how patient and gentle he was with his father. Of how he’d sacrificed his own freedom, his very life, for the love of his family. How he continued to sacrifice, all without ever complaining. And Avery realized he was exactly the kind of man who deserved to be a father the most. He was exactly the kind of man she would want as a father to her child.

And . . . whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa. A spinning burst of sparks lit off in her gut, like a pinwheel sparkler at a Fourth of July parade.

No, wrong direction, Avery.

Talk about turbulence. If today was any indication, Trace’s life was far more turbulent than Avery had ever imagined.

But even as she tried to beat her mind back into alignment with her goals as a single businesswoman, her thoughts were as ethereal as ghosts and kept drifting toward different scenarios. Scenarios she had no businesses dreaming about.

Shannon waved a paper in front of her, and Avery was grateful for the distraction. “Your sales are through the roof,” Shannon was saying. “I can’t keep your products in stock. Anytime you want to increase your deliveries, or mass-produce or incorporate or go IPO or something, let me know.”

Attached to the paper was a check. A nice check that eased the perpetual tension across Avery’s shoulders. “Wow.” She frowned, thinking back over the month. “Is this really what you owe me?”

“Don’t you keep your own books?”

“Uh, well, yeah. Sort of. I mean, I do, but, God, I’m so busy. When I’m dealing with someone like you, who I trust, I have to admit, I let the daily numbers slide. I just don’t have time.”

Shannon pushed the paper with all the accounting details of Avery’s sales into her hand. “Well, hire my bookkeeper with part of this.” She tugged a length of tape from the register and wrote down a name and a number, then offered that to Avery, too. “She’s fabulous and she’s affordable. Don’t leave your finances to chance or trust, no matter how much you like someone. You never know anyone as well as you think you do, especially not when money or emotions are involved.”

“Thanks.” She folded the paper and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans. “Guess I should know better, right?”