The Next Always - By Nora Roberts Page 0,79

he reads.”

Clare took the cap off the cup, deliberately poured it down the drain in the under-counter sink. “He left his damn twenty. Keep the change, he says, buy yourself a little something. He is an asshole.”

“Tear it up.”

“I’m not tearing up a twenty-dollar bill.”

“Then I will.”

“No.” Laughing now, Clare slapped a hand on it as Avery reached for it. “I’ll just mail it to him.”

“You will not.” Face flushed with temper, Avery slapped a hand over Clare’s. “No contact. I mean it, Clare. Contact of any kind encourages his type of obsession or whatever it is.”

“Where do you get that?”

“I watch a lot of cop shows since I’m not currently spending any time dating and having sex. Seriously, Clare, tear it up, give it away, spend it, but don’t send it to him.”

“Okay, you’re probably right. I’ll give it to the church or something.” She jammed it in her pocket. “I’m really glad you came by.”

“So am I.”

“Why did you come by?”

“I saw the asshole’s car when I was walking to the shop. Flashy car, dealer tag, so who else could it be? I thought I’d stop in, keep you from being bored to death. I didn’t expect to find him practically assaulting you.”

“Thanks. A lot.”

“When’s one of the girls getting in?”

Clare glanced at her watch. “Any minute. God, now I’m behind.”

“You’ll catch up. Go on and get started. Since I’m here, I think I’ll browse for a couple minutes.”

“Avery, he’s not coming back—and I wouldn’t let him in if he did.”

“I’m forced to remind you—not dating or having sex currently. I could use a good book.”

Hands in her pockets, Avery studied the shelves of new releases.

Clare sighed, got out two cups. Since her friend decided to be her sword and shield, they might as well have some coffee.

BECKETT LIKED HIS timing. The way he calculated it, he’d get to Clare’s right after homework, and before dinner. So maybe he could wrangle an invite to stay. He liked his chances. They’d had a good time Saturday night, spent some time with the kids in the park on Sunday afternoon.

He’d had a good week so far with no major glitches on the job, so he figured his luck was in—right up to when he pulled up to Clare’s and didn’t see her car. But he did see Harry on the little porch with his measuring tape.

He got out of the truck, hefted the box he’d brought with him.

“I’m measuring to see how big a pumpkin we should get for Halloween. We put it on the post.”

“Good idea. What’re you going to be?”

“I’m either going to be Wolverine or the Joker.”

“Hero or villain. Tough choice.”

“We got a catalog with all kinds of costumes, but we have to pick soon. Mom gives out candy at the store on trick-or-treat night.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll have to get me some. Where’s your mom?”

“She had to go back to work for something. Mrs. Ridenour’s here until she gets back. What’s in the box?”

“Something for you guys my brothers and I made.”

“For us? What is it?”

“Let’s go in. I’ll show all of you.”

Harry bolted to the door, shouting as he shoved it open. “Beckett’s here! He’s got something for us in a box.”

It sounded like a stampede. Alva came out from the kitchen as the boys raced from different directions to surround him.

“Isn’t this a nice surprise? Boys, inside voices. Clare had to run to the bookstore. You just missed her.”

“I’m just dropping something off for the kids.”

“He made it with his brothers,” Harry said. “What is it?”

“Let’s take a look.” He crouched on the floor, put the box down, took off the lid.

“Wow.” Liam’s tone was reverent.

“Those look like . . .” Alva shook her head at Beckett.

“You made coffins?”

“Yeah.” He grinned at Harry. “Heroes and villains all deserve a decent burial, right, guys?”

“What are these?” Liam picked up a miniature headstone. “Like their shields?”

“Not exactly. Those are the headstones. You mark the grave with them so you know who’s buried where.”

Liam stared at Beckett with a nearly religious fever. “This is awesome .”

“They have their symbols on them and everything.” Murphy lifted a coffin out, opened and closed the lid on its tiny hinges. “This is for Batman.”

“This is the Hulk’s. See, it’s bigger like he is.” Harry studied it, then Beckett. “How did you know how big?”

“Measured.” He poked Harry in the belly.

“This is the coolest ever.” Overcome, Liam launched himself at Beckett. “We never had anything like this. Can we bury them? For

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