Page 43 of Letters of Faith
Turning back to Avery, I hold out my hand like a stop sign and say, “Stay.” Then dash over to the kitchen table.
The other three adults in the room watch me with a mixture of horror and fascination on their faces as I grab the highlighters and then run back to where Avery is sitting, her lip still wobbling.
“She’s not a dog,” Brooks grumbles under his breath. I send him a scolding look before turning my attention back to Avery.
“Do you like coloring?” I ask, holding the highlighters out to her.
She gives me a quizzical look before nodding warily.
“Here,” I say, pushing my sleeves up further on my arms and pointing to my tattoos. “You can color these while you wait for your hot chocolate.”
Avery’s eyebrows dip as she studies my arms, but her lip is no longer wobbling. I’m counting it as a win. The look reminds me so much of myself that I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.
“Why did you color on yourself? When I do that, mommy yells at me.”
The question catches me off guard.
“Do you want to color or not?” I ask, avoiding the question.
She considers it for a split second before her face lights up in ablinding smile. I stretch out my arm as she uncaps a highlighter. When she starts to color, I look over at Brooks, Emryn, and Georgia. They are all wearing varying expressions on their faces. Brooks looks like he might burst out laughing at any moment. Emryn looks like she might strangle me, but Georgia—she’s looking at me like I’m the sun that her world revolves around.
Chapter 19
Georgia
“He’s not what I expected, you know?” Emryn muses from beside me.
I’m leaning back against the counter, watching Grayson and Avery as I wait for the hot chocolate to simmer. Growing up, mom always made homemade hot chocolate, turning her nose up if the quick powdered version was even mentioned. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you look at it—it made me a hot chocolate snob.
“What do you mean?” I ask, turning my head towards Emryn but keeping one eye on Grayson and Avery. With each tattoo she colors, Grayson regales her with the story of why he got it. I can’t decide if he’s being a good influence or bad. Brooks has joined them, sitting on the other side of Avery, and from the look on his face, I would say that he’s leaning towards bad.
Serves him right.
Meeting Avery and Emryn has put Brooks into perspective for me. I believe him now when he says he was just trying to take care of his family the day he showed up for the interview. Pure love shines in his eyes whenever he looks at his daughter and wife, but I still don’t regret defending Grayson that day.
“Well, I’ve known Kip for most of my life, and I’ve loved Brookssince I was six. Don’t get me wrong, both men are—hardened, for lack of a better word, but there’s a soft side buried underneath. When Brooks told me about what happened at his interview with Grayson, I wasn’t sure if that soft side existed in him, but I was wrong,” she says, dipping her head in Grayson’s direction, where he sits laughing with Avery.
My heart does a funny flip in my chest, and that guilt I’ve been feeling all day digs deeper into my stomach.
“Yeah, I agree. He’s pretty great when he lets you see what’s underneath that grumpy mask he likes to wear,” I say, heat flooding my cheeks. Turning to stir the hot chocolate, I try to avoid eye contact with Emryn, but I can feel her eyes on me. When I turn, she’s wearing a knowing look that makes me nervous.
“What?” I ask, swiping my face in case I smeared some of the cocoa powder across my cheek while mixing it.
“I don’t know your story, Georgia, but I’m going to give you some advice that I learned the hard way. Don’t miss what’s right in front of you because I promise you’ll regret it.” There’s no hint of judgment on her face as she says it, and I wonder what it would feel like to have a friend like her.
Nate and Grayson were my best friends growing up. Sure, I had girls who I talked to in school, but time and time again, they used me to try and get close to Grayson and Nate. By the time Nate and I started dating, I was tired of it. I gave up trying to find the friendship I saw other girls have. Nate and Gray were good enough for me. I didn’t need anyone else, but now, talking to Emryn, I wonder what it would be like to have a girlfriend I could talk to.
It sure would have come in handy today when Grayson kissed me like his life depended on it after I had just visited my husband’s grave. Add on the fact that I asked him on a date—well, kind of—and I’m a ticking time bomb, ready to explode with everything I’m trying tohold in.
I suppress a groan. There’s not a friend in this universe who would know what to do with that drama.
“I don’t know what you mean. Gray and I are just friends,” I say, turning the burner off and pouring the hot chocolate into cups. When the cups are full, I place the pot back on the stove and reach for the whipped cream. Emryn’s quicker, though. She puts her hand on mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. I look up at her, and there’s a sad smile on her face.
“That’s what I mean. By the way, you two keep stealing secret glances at one another when you think the other isn’t looking. I figured something complicated was happening between you two. Believe me, I know complicated when I see it. I’ve been there, done that, but that man looks at you like you are the oxygen he needs to breathe.” She stops and shrugs before continuing, “And maybe I’m wrong, but I think you feel the same way about him.”
“You don’t even know me,” I argue. “We’re practically strangers.”
She smiles. There’s a story in that smile, but I don’t ask for it.
