Blaze of Winter: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance (12 page)

Avery went up to her room on the second floor. Because Kate had acted like a second mother to her and Emma after their mom had died, any place her aunt lived felt like home. Kate had moved to Star Harbor nine years ago, when Avery was in her freshman year of college. It was the year her mom finally succumbed to the cancer. Kate had set aside rooms in her new house for both her and Emma. The small, cozy bedroom was really hers, not some temporary space set up in an unused guest room.

Crossing the room, she made a beeline for her desk, where she kept a writing pad and lots of pens. Then she tossed the pad on the quilted coverlet of her queen-sized bed and jumped on after it. Lying there on her stomach, she began to think. It would be easier if she had Wanda’s case files to flip through, but she’d do the best she could without them.

She wrote down everything she remembered about the intake interview, along with details from their individual sessions. A few things jumped out at her, but nothing really noteworthy. Could she be missing something?

Sighing, she rolled onto her back, still desperately trying to remember anything that might be of help. If only she’d been able to take her work laptop with her when she went on her leave of absence. Unfortunately, that would have been against Back Bay policy—and would probably have violated all sorts of HIPAA regulations.

Avery’s mind was a riot of emotions and worry. If she were in Boston, she’d be able to reach out to her network and start tracking Wanda’s steps, but there was nothing she could do from Star Harbor. Without her notes, resources, or anything else that could help the girl, she’d just have to wait to talk to Yvonne and the MacGreeleys. In the meantime, she needed to keep herself busy so she didn’t go out of her mind.

She tried to practice the violin for an hour, but her heart just wasn’t in it. Putting her instrument away, she sighed. What else could she do?

Kate had mentioned something about Christmas lights a few days ago. Now was as good a time as any to get them out, since she sure wasn’t making any headway here. She padded down into the kitchen and rummaged around in one of the drawers. There it was, the key to the Inn’s cellar. She tucked it into her pocket and threw on her coat for the short walk to the Inn.

As she walked down Ashumet Avenue, she noticed that some homes were already decorated for Christmas. The street would look beautiful at night, illuminated by gorgeous holiday lights and gas lamps, but not as beautiful as downtown. When she was here last December, seemingly every store was decked out with lights and wreaths, giving the town an old-fashioned feel. And the big tree they lit up on the Green was the best of all. The whole town came out for the lighting. Wasn’t that supposed to be next week? Kate would undoubtedly want to go.

When she reached the Inn, she headed around the back, vaulted up the porch steps, and unlocked the door so that she wouldn’t need to bother rummaging for the key while she was carrying the Christmas lights. Then she skipped back down the steps, heading for the cellar door.

Like many of the older structures in Star Harbor, the Inn had been built in the 1600s, at a time when formal basements weren’t used. The dirt-floor cellar, not even accessible through the main building, was indicative of a time when families had used the space to store produce and other essentials. Avery had been down to the Inn’s cellar only once, to put away an old flag for Kate last summer. Even when it was 90 degrees outside, the cellar had been cold and dank, and Avery hadn’t lingered. Now she would need to spend some time down there searching for those lights. They were probably in a box, but she didn’t dare hope that it would be properly labeled.

When she reached the cellar, she frowned—the padlock was already undone, the shackle hanging open. Had Aunt Kate forgotten to lock the door? With growing unease, she pulled the large, heavy doors up and out.

“Hello?” she called into the dark hole.

Nothing. Not even her own voice echoed back at her. Sighing, she added Kate’s forgetfulness to her mental list of things to worry about, turned around, and gamely clambered down the small ladder until her feet touched the ground. Now where was the light? Feeling around with her hand, her fingers finally latched on to the switch that would turn on the overhead lighting. Within seconds, the space was suffused with dim light. She glanced around. The cellar ran the whole width of the Inn, but not the whole length. Nothing seemed amiss, so she started searching for the box of lights.

She squeezed past a large rocking chair and an old drying rack into the back section where the boxes were stacked up against the one wall that wasn’t made of dirt. She started pulling them down, one by one. As she’d suspected, none of them were labeled, so it took her a long time to look through everything. She opened each box, marveling at the amount of junk that Aunt Kate had managed to accumulate over the years. A whole box of playing-card sets? Ridiculous. A box of ancient china that she’d never display? Useless. Some of the boxes were very heavy. Her coat began to weigh her down, so she shucked it off, placing it on top of an old wooden chair.

Half an hour later, Avery had pulled the last few boxes out. Still no Christmas lights. She sighed and sat back on her heels. She should have known. The stuff in these boxes was ancient, and they’d obviously used the lights just last year. Buying a few new sets of lights went to the top of her mental checklist. Just then she heard a creak.

Heart beating wildly, she leapt to her feet, hand at her throat.

Theo stood there, wearing a snug black turtleneck and tan corduroy pants that emphasized his long legs. There was an odd expression on his too-handsome face.

“Avery,” he said, the low rumble of his voice filling the narrow space, “what are you doing here?” His eyes raked up and down her body, and deepened to that dark green she was used to seeing whenever he looked at her. The low light cast shadows across the planes of his face. He looked powerful and very, very beautiful.

She crossed her hands under her breasts defensively, trying to control her reaction to his physicality. “I might ask you the same question.”

“I heard noises, so I came to investigate. I wasn’t expecting to find you here.” He cocked his head at her. “What
are
you doing here?”

“Trying to find the Christmas lights,” she sighed. “Obviously, I’m not having much luck.”

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place,” he said with a grin. “What’s behind the wall?”

Avery glanced back. “Nothing, as far as I know.”

“Can I take a look?”

She gestured with her hand. “Sure. Why not?”

He squeezed by her in the narrow space, placing his hands on her shoulders to keep her steady so she wouldn’t fall down. Heat licked at her skin, but she forced herself to ignore it. She braved a glance at him, only to find that he was staring at her intently, his eyes simmering. Quickly, she looked away.

Then he was at the wall, rapping it with his knuckles, up and down. “Sounds hollow back there. Did your aunt have this built?”

Avery shook her head. “No, but I’m pretty sure it was here when she bought the place. I remember her telling me she asked the previous owners about it, but I don’t recall what they said. I can ask her.”

Theo rose, looking even taller in the low space. “Let me help you put this stuff back.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said.

“I know. But I want to.”

She inclined her head. “All right.” She
could
use the help. As long as he didn’t press her to talk.

“So does this mean you’re sticking around for Christmas?” he asked, stacking the first few boxes up, taking care to leave the mysterious section bare. Unfortunately, it meant that there was even less work space, and they were standing so close they were almost touching. His heat was palpable, and she couldn’t help but notice how nicely his clothes clung to his taut body. He lifted the boxes effortlessly, despite the fact that some of them were so heavy Avery had barely been able to budge them.

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“You should.” He was methodically closing and stacking boxes.

“Really?” she asked, closing a box and pushing it toward him. “Why’s that?”

“Oh, I can think of any number of reasons.”

“Like what?”

“Well, it’s gorgeous here this time of year, for one.”

“So says the man who ‘agrees with winter.’ ” She laughed. “I think it’s freezing.”

He grinned at her, white teeth gleaming in the dim light. “It is, but there’s a lot to look forward to. The tree lighting. Ice-skating on the pond. And all the ladies go over to the LMK to decorate cookies right before Christmas.”

“Uh-huh.” She wasn’t convinced.

“And of course, there’s being with family.” Now,
that
she understood. She’d spent most of her Christmases with Emma and Kate since her mom had died. For the past few years, she’d come for a short vacation in December but hadn’t actually stayed for the holiday, choosing instead to work extra hours at the Recovery Center for clients who might need assistance. For some reason, troubled people always seemed to be more sad, hopeless, and depressed around the holidays. She actually enjoyed the holiday work—it felt good to give her clients some much-needed hope and reassurance.

“You make a good point,” she admitted. “I love being with Emma and Kate at this time of year.” And since Kate had been diagnosed with cancer, each precious moment seemed to have a greater importance.

“Don’t sound so surprised that I’m right,” he said with a sly smile. She couldn’t help but smile back. He placed the last box on top of the now-towering pile. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

It would be stupid of her to touch him without a glove on, so she pointedly ignored his hand. “Thanks, I have it,” she said, turning to walk back down the narrow pathway to the staircase. She felt him behind her every step of the way.

“After you,” she said, gesturing with her hand, unconsciously initiating the exact conversation they’d had the first day he showed up at the Inn.

“Oh, no,” he said with a huge grin. “After you.”

Avery sighed, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to insist now any more than she’d been able to then. Except this time it was worse. Now that they’d shared a passionate kiss, there was subtext to every conversation they had. Grabbing her coat from the chair, she began to climb. “Could you hit the lights, please? They’re to the left of the staircase.” She smiled to herself, knowing he couldn’t refuse her request.

At least it would keep his eyes off her ass.

Theo clambered out of the cellar in the dark. She was clever, this one. He tried not to let himself be too disappointed. If all went according to plan, there’d be other opportunities. Many other opportunities. Careful not to let the cellar doors slam, he swung them closed. Avery locked the dead bolt, double-checking to make sure it was secure.

“I still need to find those lights,” she said, frowning, before giving a little shiver. “Or buy new ones.”

“It’s freezing out here,” he said, noticing that her teeth had started to chatter. “Let’s go inside.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Avery made a beeline for the foyer as soon as she entered the Inn. Theo was forced to trail after her. At least he got the view he’d been denied a few moments before. She was wearing a dark blue sweater over a pair of jeans that hugged her ass in all the right places. He liked the way she looked in jeans. Of course, he liked the sexy librarian look too, but he’d take this outfit any day of the week—casual, comfortable, and relaxed. He followed the sway of her luscious curves until she disappeared around the corner.

“Ugh,” he heard her say. When he walked around the corner, he saw her crouched in front of a cabinet near the reception desk, a cardboard box flipped open on the floor. “Kate must have put them in here. I can’t believe I just wasted so much time.”

“I wouldn’t call it a waste,” Theo said with a smile. He’d take any opportunity to be near her, even if it was stacking boxes in a dusty old root cellar. Any chance to get her to open up. Any chance to show her that they could be good together. “C’mon, I’ll help you put them up.”

Avery glanced up at him. “No way. You’re a guest here.”

“I want to help. Besides,” he said slyly, “wouldn’t Kate want you to make your guests feel welcome?”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t include having our guests do physical labor or chores around the Inn.” She started pulling lights from the box and laying them out on the desk.

“I don’t see it as a chore.”

“It is. A big chore,” she said, continuing to work and doing her best to ignore him. Time to pull out the big guns.

“Avery, I haven’t put up decorations for myself since I moved to California. It would be a real treat for me. Besides, it’ll go a lot faster if we do it together. Maybe help make up for lost time. Please?” He couldn’t sound more charming if he tried.

“All right,” she reluctantly agreed. “Here.” She handed him some snarled lights. “You can untangle these for me.”

He grinned. “My specialty.”

“Well, a lot more of them are jumbled up, so I’m afraid you’ll be here for a while.” She pulled another bunch out and began to work on them. “And speaking of being here for a while, why aren’t you writing?”