Accidentally Hers (Sterling Canyon #1) (7 page)

Her forehead creased in concentration. Her slim fingers pointed at the screen to illustrate whatever she described. Her hair fell across her face, forcing her to push it behind her ear—the one with two earrings, by the way. One little gold hoop and one small pink gemstone. He could almost feel the scrape of metal as he imagined capturing that little hoop with his teeth.

Avery’s dimples deepened whenever she spoke, giving her a perpetually flirtatious appearance. He could barely keep from running his hand along the length of her thigh. Then, in the midst of his sexual fantasy, a horrible thought resurfaced.

What if she really was interested in Trip? She wouldn’t be the first. Grey had no more right to stop the two of them from dating than Kelsey had to stand between him and Avery.

That recognition prompted a genuine pang of empathy for how bothered Kelsey might be by his pursuit of Avery. He didn’t like to hurt anybody, especially not a girl who’d been nothing but nice.

“Are you even paying any attention to me? You look about a million miles away.” Avery elbowed him. “What’s going on?”

Not paying attention? I’m paying too damned much attention to you.

“Nothing.” Grey looked at his feet.
Complications!

Avery sat back into her chair. “This probably—this
definitely
—isn’t my place, but I’m guessing you’re worrying about your business. Kelsey says you have plans for expanding Backtrax by offering summer climbing tours. Since you won’t be able to participate for a while, that’s another financial blow, isn’t it?”

Grey raised an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

Avery pursed her lips and rubbed her hands over her thighs. Her tight expression radiated anxiety. “Are you planning to sue Andy?”

Aw, shit.
He didn’t want to have this conversation. Definitely not here or now. He pushed back in his chair. “We shouldn’t be discussing legal stuff, Avery. Let’s keep this”—he gestured between them—“separate from all of that, okay? We have to avoid all the conflicts of interest, right?”

“Just tell me why you wouldn’t accept the insurance payout.”

He noticed the additional creases marring her forehead. “Because twenty-five grand doesn’t cover my losses. Medical bills, lost wages and tips, extra business expenses because I had to hire a replacement, and more.”

“Twenty-five grand?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “That’s all the liability coverage Andy carries?”

“It’s the state minimum.” Grey couldn’t even criticize the guy, considering he’d lived most of his life by the same philosophy when it came to car insurance.

“Well, how much do you need?”

Grey crossed his arms, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see the panic in hers. How had he thought he could keep his personal feelings out of this mess?

“Listen, we really can’t discuss this.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “It’s not personal. I’m not trying to hurt anybody. Not you. Not even your brother.”

“That’s what I told him.” The relief exuding from her grateful smile pierced straight through his heart. “Thanks for proving me right.”

Hell.
She’d clearly misunderstood him. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but he wouldn’t roll over and lose everything either.

Absent some miracle, he knew he’d probably have to go after Andy’s interest in their home. Despite his good intentions and near-desperate sexual desire, this friendship—or whatever this was—with Avery was as doomed as a sandcastle on the beach.

Chapter Six

Chaos
—the only word that adequately described the scene at the Sterling Canyon Annual Tent Sale. Each late-April after the slopes closed for the season, all the retailers pitched canopies along Main Street, dragged out their remaining stock, slashed prices, and let the customers go crazy. By midday, the entire Sterling Canyon population milled around in a disorganized frenzy, scoping out that perfect deal.

“Ave, I’
m gonna go home.
” Andy cast a quick glance over his shoulder at old Vanessa Cartright, who had just sneered at him and was now whispering something to her husband.

Throughout the weeks following the accident, Avery had discovered the locals had divided into three groups.

The smallest group—those who were standing by Andy—could be counted on her fingers and toes. Then there were those who weren’t particularly eager to see him punished, but who salivated over the latest gossip and were quick to point out how lucky he was that nobody died. And finally there were those who jumped at the chance to openly criticize and ostracize him for his mistake.

Avery threaded her arm through Andy’s, placing her body between him and Vanessa. “Don’t let that old bag bother you. Besides, you promised to help me find a new pair of skis.” She tweaked his nose, hoping to force a laugh, then rested her head against his shoulder.

“It doesn’t make me feel better when you treat me like a baby.” He shrugged free. “I’m taking off.”

“Fine. No more babying. I drove, and I’m not ready to go home.” She grabbed his hand. “
Besides, your
lungs and ribs are healed now, so no more excuses for lazing around the house. Sooner or later you need to start walking around town with your chin up.”

“Now you sound like Dad.” His observation caused her to bat him on the shoulder with the back of her hand, which only made him grin. “Knew that’d getcha. But you can’t control me or my feelings, Ave. I’m going to walk home.”

She looked at his Merrell hiking shoes. “That’s a long walk.”

“I can use the fresh air.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “See you at home.”

Avery drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he walked away. She shook her head and then ducked into Gary’s Gear to look for new skis for next season. An attractive pair of green Atomics caught her attention. She plucked them off the makeshift wall to see if they were long enough.

While holding them along her body to determine if the tips were at about the same height as her nose, she felt someone approach. She braced to deal with a pushy sales person, but it was Grey’s voice she heard. “I doubt those are what you’re looking for, Bambi.”

Like a reflex, she grinned and turned to face him. Only two weeks earlier she’d stormed out of his apartment, relieved his insulting nickname for Kelsey had weakened her growing crush. Sadly, that feeling had only lasted until their next therapy session. Now she was back to battling against her attraction every minute they spent together.

Even dressed in old gray sweatpants and a faded Whistler hoodie, he looked handsome. She raised her brows in question. “Why do you say that?”

Grey took the skis out of her hands and put them back against the wall. “You grew up here. You’ve skied all your life, right?”

“So?” She chafed at the way he’d swooped in and taken over.

“You ski the whole mountain?” His hands rested on his hips.

“Yes.”

“Ever go out of bounds?”

“Not often.” When he grimaced, she said, “I’ve got to be careful. An injury could affect my ability to work.” The minute she heard her words, she felt idiotic. If anyone understood how a serious injury could mess with one’s profession, Grey did. Fortunately, he let the comment pass.

“Regardless, that particular Atomic is for beginners. The radius is too short for you, and there’s not enough rocker for the times when you might need it.”

“But it’s the prettiest pair and it’s half price.” Her protest made him roll his eyes. “Hey, Atomic makes a good product.”

“I know, but that’s not the right ski for your needs.” Grey studied the other skis still available, his silvery eyes focused, thoughtful, serious. Eventually he picked out a red set of K2s. “Now
this
ski is perfect for someone like you. A medium-length radius, rocker/camber/rocker combo, and a strong core reinforced with bamboo. It’s even got skin grommets built into the tip and tail in case you want to hike up a ridge.”

“But that red clashes with my ski outfit.” She heard Grey laugh, like Matt used to do when he disagreed with her decisions. Her body lit with heat, making her snippy. “What’s so funny?”

“Normally you aren’t afraid of throwing different colors together.” He held out both hands to fend off the light punch she threw his way. “Come on, Avery. You know gear isn’t about fashion.
This
is an all-mountain ski that will do everything you need for your level of skiing. I promise, I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

His sincerity softened her attitude, making her realize she’d overreacted. Grey wasn’t Matt.

“You have no idea what level I am.” She gestured between them. “We’ve never skied together.”

“Maybe we’ll remedy that next season.” He watched her closely, as if willing her reaction to confirm that he would, in fact, ski again. Of course, all she could think about was the idea of skiing
with him,
which made her flush. “In the meantime, I can tell you’re athletic. Your brother’s an instructor. And the fact you
ever
go out of bounds tells me you’re technically an intermediate to advanced skier, probably the latter. But if you don’t trust me, ask your boyfriend when he comes back.”

She felt her eyebrows pinch together until she realized he must’ve seen her with Andy. “You mean the blond guy who just walked off a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah.”

“First of all, I don’t need
any
guy’s help making decisions. Secondly, that particular guy is my brother, not my boyfriend.”

Grey practically got whiplash when he snapped his head around, as if he might still catch a glimpse of Andy. “Huh. I pictured him different.”

“Different how?”

“Well, he doesn’t look like you, to start. And he doesn’t look like a jer—” Then he stopped, chagrined. “Sorry. He looks like a normal guy.”

“He
is
a normal guy.” She felt the heat rise to her cheeks again, this time for less pleasant reasons.

Grey shoved his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. “I’m sorry if I offended you. Give me a break here. If he’s a monster in my head, it’s because he’s caused me a shitload of trouble.”

A beat or two of silence passed as each of them emotionally withdrew. Andy might as well be a concrete wall dividing her from any fantasy she harbored about Grey.

“You don’t need to swear to make your point. I get it. But he’s just a regular guy who made a bad mistake. One he’s very sorry about, and one he’ll be paying for, too, probably with his freedom.”

“Truce.” Grey held up his hands to reveal two fresh lollipops, one of which he handed to her. She took his response as a sign he disliked conflict. He stuffed a lollipop in his self-conscious grin, and redirected the conversation. “So, you want these K2s?”

“Maybe.” She pulled at her ponytail, unwilling to let him think he’d made the decision for her.

“Stubborn girl. Bet you’d take them if I told you not to.” His tone rang with admiration instead of scorn.

Rather than confirm or deny his claim, she changed the subject. “So, what are you here looking for, anyway?”

“Considering picking up a bunch of cheap facemasks, gloves, and other stuff that gets ruined or lost easily.”

“No new skis? The prices are amazing.”

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Not in the budget this year.”

Of course not.
Once again she’d shoved her foot in her mouth. “Well, if you were buying a new pair, which would you choose?”

Without hesitation, he beelined to a set of black skis, one of which had a red tip. “These beauties.” He lifted the Volkl V-Werks BMT 94s off the wall. “Light as air, full rocker, carbon center.” He whistled. “Even at half price they’re still over five hundred bucks. Right now it’d be a stupid waste of money I don’t have, especially since these are big-mountain skis, and no one can promise me I’ll be skiing in the backcountry again.” He set them back, staring longingly.

“Avery the woman” wanted to combat his worry, to make him the promise he wanted—needed—to hear. But “Avery the PT” could
not
make recovery promises she couldn’t absolutely keep.

Her increasing emotional attachment to Grey was exactly why that code of ethics existed. One major reason why she should
not
spend time holding his hand in parks, listening to him play piano in his apartment, or hanging around with him outside the clinic. Personal feelings compromised objectivity.

Knowing the difference between what she wanted to do and what she should do gave her the strength to say nothing, even though it gutted her.

As if sensing her discomfort, he sighed. “I’ve got to meet up with Trip. See you next week, Bambi.” He turned to go, then glanced over his shoulder. “Whatever you do, do
not
buy those K2s.” He winked before weaving through the open cardboard boxes and folding tables strewn throughout the tent.

She noticed him favoring one leg. Something else they needed to work on next week. Just before she lost sight of him, she spotted Kelsey approaching him. Another person Avery didn’t want to see hurt because of something developing between her and Grey.

After they’d disappeared, she stood there at a loss for a minute. She’d come today looking for a new pair of skis yet no longer wanted any, not even the K2s Grey had just tried to trick her into buying with his silly attempt at reverse psychology. She walked back to the Volkls he prized. Lifting them up, she gently slid her hand over them, almost as if she were massaging Grey’s leg instead of the smooth, lacquered surface of the ski.

Everything about her interactions with that man skirted ethical lines. Yet here she stood, once more pushing aside the tiny voice reminding her not to become personally involved with her patient. Some secret, unfamiliar, scary, wonderfully daring part of her flouted the rules where Grey was concerned.

Maybe she couldn’t make a promise about his recovery, but she could provide encouragement and incentive. Her financial concerns paled in comparison to the red-hot need to give him hope. Decision made, she unwrapped the sucker he’d given her, stuck it in her mouth, and smiled.

“You seem distracted.” Trip flung a pencil at Grey from across the desk.

“Sorry. You know I hate this spreadsheet shit.” Grey leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “I’m frustrated.”

“Because of the numbers?” Trip leaned forward.

“No.” Grey clucked. “Well, partly. I’ve always hated paperwork, but the skiing part of this business made it tolerable. Being up on the mountain, stomping big air, working with clients. That’s what I love. Not this shit.”

“But you gotta do this stuff, Grey.”

“What if this is all I ever get to do from now on?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head hung low. “Dammit, that’s depressing.”

“Don’t think that way. Attitude is half the battle. It’s only been a month since your surgery. You’ve got a long road ahead of you, but you’ll get there.”

“Meanwhile Andy Randall is walking around town, able-bodied.” Grey looked up at Trip. “I finally saw him today with Avery at the tent sales.”

“Awkward.” Trip sat back, crossing his legs at his ankles.

“I didn’t meet him. Only saw him from a distance. Waited until he took off before speaking with Avery.”

“Again I say, awkward.”

Grey shrugged. “Sometimes when I think about how he’s screwed up my life, I want to see him pay for it so bad. But she loves him. Not only has she said so, but I saw it in the way she looked at him, talked to him. She’s hurting over what’s happened, over how it’s affecting him, over how he’ll handle jail. And as much as I think he deserves whatever happens, I don’t like seeing her upset. And then, at the same time, I have to acknowledge the fact that I’m not the only one facing an uncertain future.”

“Don’t beat yourself up for feeling victimized. Sure, he’s looking at serious charges, but
you
didn’t cause his trouble. He brought that un himself.” Trip narrowed his eyes. “As for Avery, I know you’ve got a little crush on her, and I get it, but don’
t get sidetracked.
”

Grey waved his hand in the air. “I know what’s at stake. I just wish I had a crystal ball. If I
knew
I’d fully recover, I’d be a lot more patient and forgiving.”

“I’ve skied with some of the best athletes. The toughest guys. You’re one of them, Grey, so don’t get soft on me now. If anyone can overcome this injury, it’s you.”

Grey smiled. “Guess some part of all those cheerleaders you’ve seduced has rubbed off on you.”

Trip grinned, slow and easy. “Can you blame me for liking girls with spirit . . . and pom-poms?”

“On that note, I’m taking Shaman out for a walk.” Grey pushed out of the chair. “See you in a while.”