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He patted her back.
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make this whole bullying-me-into-doing-your-bidding tactic become a habit.”
She flashed him an endearing smile.
“I learned from the best."
He grunted and waved her off.
“Go. Get out of here before I change my mind. Bowen is waiting for you.”
As Avery turned and started toward me, my mouth went dry. I was about to ride into town with her, while she was seated in the truck beside me. Her scent in my lungs on every breath. Her barely-concealed desire lingering between us, so thick and hot and…
God, this was going to be a long day.
As soon as Avery was settled in the passenger seat, I steered the truck onto the road. At least the cab was big enough that we weren’t pressed up against each other.
“So,” I said. “You finally wore him down.”
“Trust me, I know it won’t last,” Avery replied. “But I intend to enjoy my victory, whether it’s short-lived or not. Can we stop for coffee on the way into town?”
“You’re the boss.”
She thought about that for a moment and nodded with a small smile playing across her lips. I stole a sideways glance at her. She looked…content. Pleased with herself. Not at all intimidated by being in a leadership position.
“You love that, don’t you?” I asked. “Being the one to call the shots.”
Her dark brown eyes sparkled.
“It does have a nice ring to it.”
I tore my gaze away from her, focused on the road again. Avery was born for this—taking over the ranch, stepping into a position of wealth and power. For the past twenty years, I had done nothing with my life except work in the saddle, come rain or shine. And I would stay that way until the day I died. I hoped that if I kept reminding myself of the fact that I was going nowhere, it would dampen the butterflies in my stomach every time I saw Avery’s smile.
When we reached Ash Ridge, there was a line at Java Junction Coffeehouse, winding out the door and around the block.
“I like Bread & Butter Bakery instead,” Avery said. “I’ll pick up some pastries for Dad and Birdie while we’re there.”
Stepping into the bakery, we were greeted with the warm smell of rising yeast, sugar, and cinnamon. A line stretched from the front counter to the door, and every table was taken. Even though Rory was on maternity leave, it still felt strange when she wasn’t at the bakery, busy as a bee and coated up to her elbows in flour. She’d been the head baker here for years. If Beau was to be believed though, it wouldn’t be long before she was back at the bakery again.
The line gradually began to dwindle, and we were nearly to the counter when Avery suddenly went white as a sheet. She swayed into me until her shoulder brushed my arm. I flinched at the brief, innocent contact—the flood of heat as her bare skin touched mine. I gripped her elbow hard enough to make her look at me.
“Avery? What’s wrong?”
“I—I don’t feel well. Let’s skip the coffee.”
I scanned the room, searching for…I didn’t know what. Had she seen something to rattle her?
“What is it?” I asked.
Avery swallowed and shook her head again, turning toward the door.
“It’s nothing.”
Like hell it was nothing. A second ago, she was fine. Now she seemed to be practically green around the gills. And she was trembling like it was midwinter instead of warm early June.
Keeping a firm grip on Avery’s arm, I led her outside. As soon as we reached the truck, I turned to face her.
“You’re spooked.”
