Page 45 of Love so Cold

"Marcus," I reply.

"Can you roll the thing down?" she asks, referring to the glass partition.

I press a button, and the glass lowers.

"Marcus," she calls out. "Do you know where Lou's Diner is? Down on Third?"

"Sure thing," Marcus replies. The car starts moving again, pulling away from the curb smoothly.

As we drive, the tension in the car begins to dissipate. Avery points out the window to a small park with swings. "Olivia loves that place," she says, her voice softer now, more open. "They have an art fair there every spring. We always go."

"What sorts of things is she into? She's a natural on the ice, so I sort of figured she played sportsbefore."

Avery chuckles slightly and shakes her head. "Actually, no. This is her first time doing anything like this. Other than just going skating for fun, she's spent no time on the ice, and certainly never played hockey before."

"Wow," I exclaim, a little surprised. "You wouldn't know it by watching her."

Avery smiles. "She was much more into art and drawing before this." I watch as Avery smiles.

"Like you, then?" I ask.

Avery looks out the window a bit wistfully. "That was a lifetime ago."

I make a mental note of that, but figure it's not the time to dig into her past now. The look on her face makes me think there's a sad story behind it.

"And what about that building over there?" I gesture to an old brick structure with faded paint.

"Ah, the Grand Theatre," Avery explains. "It's been closed for years, but there's a group trying to save it. They want to restore it to its former glory." There's admiration in her tone, and it strikes me that Avery's heart is woven deeply into the fabric of this town.

"I'd like to see that happen," I say honestly, feeling a pull toward the efforts to preserve something so cherished.

"Would you?" She turns to look at me, searching my face as if trying to find a catch. But there isn't one. Not anymore.

"Absolutely," I say, meeting her gaze squarely.

We pull up to Lou's Diner, a cozy-looking spot with neon lights flickering in the evening haze. "Well, here we are," Avery announces, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Lou's may not be high-end, but it's got character."

"Character's exactly what I need to see," I reply, feeling a genuine smile tugging at my lips.

"Let's hope you're ready for it," Avery teases, stepping out of the car with a newfound lightness. I follow her lead, ready to dive into the heart of the town that's captured hers.

Stepping inside, the scent of coffee and fried onions wraps around us like a warm embrace. The red vinyl booths, chipped formica countertops, and walls adorned with vintage posters of local landmarks give off an unpretentious, welcoming charm.

"Does this place mean something to you?" I ask Avery as we slide into a booth near the window, the neon 'Open' sign casting a soft glow over her face.

She shrugs, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. "I've always liked its vibe. It's real, you know? No pretenses."

A waitress with a nametag that reads 'Betty' ambles over, pad in hand. "What can I get for ya?"

"Two coffees, please," Avery says, then looks at me for my order.

I nod in agreement, adding, "And whatever she decides is fine with me."

"Blueberry pancakes for me and the standard for him," Avery says.

"Gotit. I'll be right back with your drinks." Betty saunters off, leaving us in a bubble of murmured conversations and clinking silverware.

I clear my throat, suddenly conscious of how out of my element I feel. "About the development..." I begin, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. It's ridiculous; I've stood in boardrooms without so much as batting an eyelid, but here, with Avery, it's different.

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