in the arm. “Are you ever going to get over that tiny mishap?”
“No. When you have to bail someone you love out of prison at three a.m., come talk to me. Then we’ll be even.”
Avery and Ally rolled their eyes and entered Fins.
They were seated immediately on the back patio. The scorching heat was fading as the sun drifted downward, and a light breeze teased and tugged at Avery’s hair, pulling some strands free. She ordered a vodka and seltzer, oysters, and a side salad, and allowed her body to relax into the chair.
“I’ll be right back. I want to hit the restroom and call Jason to let him know where we booked,” Ally said. Her hair gleamed bright red and bounced as she left, and Avery smiled at the open, beautiful joy reflected on her friend’s face.
Avery turned toward Carter, and the question popped out of her mouth. “Has she always been this happy?”
He regarded her with his usual serious expression. “She was born happy. My parents always said she had a gift of seeing the bigger picture in the world. Made it easy for her to forgive. Made it easy for her to fail because she always concentrated on the wins. She was like a light in the household.”
His words struck her hard, said so matter-of-factly about his sister. “What about you?”
He cocked his head. “What about me?”
“If she was the light, what were you?”
His stormy ultramarine gaze crashed into hers. Her chest tightened, and fire zipped through her. “The realist. What else would I be?”
The waiter interrupted, dropping their drinks and appetizers on the table, then gliding off. The serious mood broke, and her breath finally reached her lungs.
Losing their parents at such a young age must have affected both of them, but Ally was always open about her grief, and grateful to her brother for raising her. After their mother had died of cancer, their father passed shortly afterward of a heart attack. Ally said Carter rarely spoke about their father’s death, as if the tragedy of losing both parents within a few short months was too much for him to process. Curiosity stirred. Avery wished she could ask Carter many questions, but they didn’t have that type of relationship.
He fed a few pieces of bread to Lucy, who remained quiet, her head cocked and tilted up in a mix of need and adoration. “How’d you end up getting Lucy?” she asked, forking up an oyster and enjoying the mild, sweet taste mixed with a touch of salt on her tongue. It was so fresh, she skipped the cocktail sauce and enjoyed it with only a drizzle of lemon. “Breeder, pet store, or shelter?”
He swirled his ruby-red pinot noir, then took a sip. “I was away at a work conference and walking to my hotel. I saw a man with Lucy on a leash. She barked, and he kicked her hard. Knocked her against a tree. I called out, but he didn’t hear me. Lucy got up, and you know what she did? Looked straight at that asshole and let out another loud bark. It pretty much screamed Fuck you. And then he kicked her again.”
“Oh my God, why are there such cruel people in the world?” She stared at Lucy with a new respect. “What did you do?”
“I went over and began telling him how my daughter had been begging for a Yorkie forever, but we couldn’t find one at the shelter. I kissed his ass and offered him three hundred bucks for the dog right then.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t beat the crap out of him.”
He shook his head. “Then he wouldn’t have given me the dog. Even if I accused him of animal abuse, it’s pretty hard to get it to stick. Lucy would’ve been right back with him. My goal was to get her away from him, permanently.”
“So he accepted your offer?”
A smile touched his lips. “Not until he negotiated to five hundred dollars. As soon as he took my money, I picked her up and snuck her into the hotel. I ordered us room service, named her Lucy, and she slept in the bed with me that night. We’ve been inseparable ever since.”
Emotion roared over her in choppy waves. The way he looked after Ally and Lucy told her there was more depth than what he showed. Why was she intrigued to learn more about that part of him?
“Why Lucy?”
“From Peanuts. I like the way she’s always pulling the football away from