but right now she needs a lot of parenting. You make it look effortless, like you love every minute of it.”
He blew out a breath, love for his daughter filling him like a ray of sunshine. “I do. She’s without a doubt the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I hate the times when she’s with her mom.” He cringed at how that sounded. “I don’t hate her being with Stacy. I hate that she’s not with me.”
“I get it.” Avery reached out and squeezed his hand. The touch was awkward, and he guessed she wished they hadn’t gone down this serious path. “She knows you love her whether she’s here or with her mom. I know that without a doubt.”
“Yeah.” He picked up his glass and took a slow sip. “Enough about my complicated history. Tell me about all the hearts you’ve broken.”
The shift in her energy was subtle but undeniable. It was as if a curtain drew down over her features, hiding the woman he knew behind the perfectly polished disdain he’d witnessed that first day at the gas station.
“No broken hearts in my wake,” she said, taking a step away from him. “Not much history to speak of. Was the house remodeled when you moved in or did you do the work yourself?”
The change in topic was obvious, but he didn’t call her out on it. The end of his marriage had practically destroyed him, and if it wasn’t for Violet things might have been worse. He had a feeling whatever had happened to Avery was more recent. She seemed raw and...vulnerable.
“How do you like your steak?” he asked instead, opening the fridge again and pulling out the tenderloin he’d been marinating.
“Medium,” she said. “And my love life is really nothing. I fell in love with the wrong guy. He didn’t care about me, and I learned a lesson about giving away my heart.”
“It wasn’t easy to share that.”
She shook her head, traced a finger along the rim of her wineglass. “Not a big deal. We’re friends, right?”
“I like the sound of that.” He took a pair of tongs from the drawer. “Still a little shocked, but I like how it sounds. Now I’m going to grill you the best piece of meat you’ve ever had.”
“Don’t get me started on your meat,” she said with a laugh.
He wanted to lean in and kiss her but let himself out onto the back patio instead. If she wanted to define what was between them as friendship, who was he to argue? And if their friendship turned out to be the kind that included benefits, he wouldn’t complain.
Avery might not be his type, but he liked her. He also liked that her stay in Magnolia wasn’t permanent. That would ensure that he kept things casual between them, even if his too-soft heart got in the way.
* * *
“THIS WAS THE most normal evening I’ve had in ages,” Avery said as she finished drying the final pot Gray handed to her.
Gray chuckled. “Normal isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement.”
There’d been so much laughter as she helped him prep dinner, then during the meal and even after as they worked together to clean the cozy kitchen.
“I’m a big fan of normal.” She took the final sip of wine from her glass but shook her head when Gray held out the bottle to offer her a refill. This was her third glass and between the intimate quiet of the house, Gray’s innate sexiness and the way the alcohol loosened her inhibitions, she knew she needed to stop. Of course, she could still make it back to the guest cottage with no problem. She was buzzed but not drunk. The problem was she didn’t want to leave.
Spot let out a soft snore from where she’d fallen asleep under the kitchen table. Even her foster dog felt at home here.
“What did normal life look like before Magnolia?” Gray asked gently.
She clenched her fists tight and thought about how to answer. They’d spent the past couple of hours talking and laughing but she’d still managed to share very little about herself. It was