Novak Raven (Harper's Mountains Book 4) (3 page)

This was Avery’s stand—however pathetic it might be.

“Honestly, Avery, I don’t think you’re right for this job—”

“Wes! I need you, man,” Ryder called from outside.

Weston’s nostrils flared in irritation before he yelled, “What do you need?”

“You! I already said that!”

“Mother fucker,” Weston murmured as he stood. “Look, I need a strong back who will be able to juggle and manage a lot here—”

“Wes!” Ryder yelled again.

Weston growled a terrifying sound and strode toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered over his shoulder.

But what difference did it make if he came back or not? Weston was denying her the job. She’d laid it all out there for him, and now her ticket to freedom was fading to nothing.

When Weston strode out onto the porch and into the sunlight, the tension in his chest finally eased.

Avery. Goddammit, he knew he’d recognized her! She had the same shade of deep brunette hair with sun-washed highlights that said she liked to be outside. She’d piled it on top of her head in a tight, painful looking bun. She wasn’t much taller than he remembered and still frail looking with hunched shoulders, as if she was trying to make herself even smaller. She’d grown curves in the years since he’d seen her, but did a damn fine job of hiding them under that baggy sweater she was wearing. A sweater! It was eighty-five degrees outside, and she was covered up completely. Her dull clothes couldn’t hide that striking face of hers, though. Plain? Ha. She was clearly fishing for compliments he wouldn’t give. Her eyes were a vibrant aquamarine blue, made even brighter by her thick, dark lashes, and she’d obviously forsaken the make-up today because her stark freckles stood out on her cheeks and nose. Her nose was just as tiny and pert as he remembered from the pictures she’d sent. She’d slathered her lips in some cherry-scented gloss that made him even angrier. Tempting little temptress, but he saw right through that shit.

The memory of the day they’d finally met made him want to rip a fucking tree out of the ground.

The girl who had ruined everything was here, begging a job from him? Fuck! He couldn’t breathe. Weston pulled at the collar of his T-shirt and jogged down the stairs. He needed to get her out of here as fast as possible. Out of Nantahala, out of Bryson City, out of his life.

Today had sucked. First the dream, and now Avery freaking Foley was back to demolish him the rest of the way. He wanted to Change. No…he
needed
to Change. Desperately, he pulled off his shirt, tossed it to the ground, and bolted for the woods.

“Where are you going?” Ryder asked, appearing from nowhere and hooking his immovable hand onto Weston’s bicep. He had his phone up to his ear. “It’s ringing.”

“What?” Weston asked, confused.

Inside the building, the landline trilled a long ring. Ryder waggled his eyebrows and mouthed,
I’m testing her.

“Um, Mr. Novak?” Avery called timidly from inside. “The phone is ringing!”

Weston shot Ryder a dirty look and moved to go tell her she needed to leave. Ryder stilled him and put it on speaker, then pressed his finger to his lips.

On the third ring, Avery answered. “Big Flight ATV Tours, this is Avery, how can I help you?”

Weston drew up straight. Huh. She sounded a lot less shaky on the phone than he’d expected.

“I was wantin’ to know about booking a tour for my family,” Ryder drawled in a deep-south accent. Weston tried not to smile but failed on account of Ryder’s accent being so thick and unbelievable. “I have eight kids, ages six to nineteen, and a wife who likes to get mud in her crack. Do you have anything that can accommodate me, ma’am?”

Avery let off a surprised-sounding giggle. “That’s a great question. Let me see here.” The sound of shuffling papers blasted across the phone, and after a few moments, she recited a sentence of wording off the stack of pamphlets Weston had left on the desk. “Ages fifteen and up only for safety reasons. I’m sorry sir, but we’ll only be able to book a tour for you, your wife, and the kids over the minimum age requirement of fifteen.”

“Oh, well that’s a mighty disappointment.”

“We do have tour packages in different lengths of time, though, so if you can find someone to watch your younger children for an hour, that is our shortest tour. And they are welcome to hang out around here. We have a hiking trail and a set of horseshoes out back. Picnic tables, too, if you want to bring a lunch for them.”

“But you don’t have one of them playgrounds or nothin’ for my little angels?”

“No need for that in the Smoky Mountains, sir. The woods are the playground here.”

Ryder nodded his head like he was impressed, and honestly, Weston was, too. All of her terrified demeanor had disappeared on the phone.

“Hired. You’re hired,” Ryder said into the phone.

“Wait. What?”

No!
Weston mouthed, shaking his head. Ryder didn’t understand. She wasn’t what he thought. She wasn’t just some human looking for a job. She was a fucking raven shifter probably sent from the council to keep tabs on him.

Ryder rested his hand on his hip and wore a big dumb grin on his face. “When can you start? Wait, we’re coming in.” Ryder jogged across the clearing and inside the building, leaving Weston to trail after him.

“We need to talk about this first,” Weston said, but there was Avery, standing in the open office doorway with a hopeful smile on her lips. And holy fuck, her smile stopped him in his tracks. She’d worn braces the first time he’d met her, but now her teeth were perfect. Her lips curved up so pretty, and her eyes were that bright teal that made his dick swell. Oooh, Avery was dangerous. The council knew exactly what they were doing.

“I can start right now!” she exclaimed excitedly. “Today!”

“Perfect,” Ryder said. “We can give you the tour right now.”

“No. No. No, we can’t,” Weston said, yanking Ryder to a stop. “My vote is still no on this. She isn’t right for our business.”

Avery’s face fell. “Why not?”

Because she was a fucking traitor! “You’re just not.”

Ryder’s ruddy brows lowered over his narrowed blue eyes. “What’s your problem, man? She’s good on the phone. She’s hot.”

“You can’t say that about employees.”

“Why not? It’s how I talk, and she’ll have to sink or swim.” Ryder rounded on Avery. “Do you mind me calling you hot?”

Her cheeks blushed bright red. “Well, no. No one has ever called me that.”

Ryder pointed to her and called, “Bullshit. Plus, a hot girl in the store will sell more. It’s scientifically proven.”

“By who?” Weston yelled too loud.

“By scientists!” Ryder turned to Avery again. “I’m sorry for his behavior. He’s never had a girlfriend before and doesn’t know how to talk to women.”

“Ryder, shut the fuck up,” Weston gritted out. His love life definitely didn’t need to be discussed by the raven council.

“So, what should I wear to work?” Avery asked, her attention directly on Ryder, the weak link.

“Spaghetti-strap tank tops and push-up bras would work. Do you have cut-off short shorts? I can make them for you if not. My mate has lots of scandalous clothes. I could dress you like a saloon girl if you want. Wait, maybe I should order tank tops with our logo on it. Why are you wearing a fucking sweater in the summer? Your skin is as pale as a vampire. What colors do you look good in?”

Avery was nodding her head like a bobble-head doll, and her eyes were round like tiny moons in her face. “Uuuh, blue or green. Black? I should tell you I’ve never worn cut-off shorts.”

“Why the hell not?” Ryder asked, looking appalled. “Everyone should wear them from time to time. I do.”

Avery giggled a pretty tinkling sound and tugged at the hem of her green-brown burlap sack of a sweater. “Immodest clothing isn’t allowed where I come from.” She cast a quick glance at Weston’s bare torso. “Or tattoos or piercings either.”

Yeah, well, Raven’s Hollow was a cult.

Avery’s cheeks were now roughly the shade of ripe cherries.

“Ryder,” Weston drawled, “this isn’t an appropriate discussion, and you are getting way ahead of yourself. I want to conduct more interviews.”

“Fuck you, man. I pick Avery. Vote on it. Who wants Avery to work here?”

Ryder held up his hand, and in a rush, so did Avery. Her sweater inched up and exposed a strip of her bare, creamy stomach. Fuck, she looked soft under all that fabric, and now Weston’s traitor dick was knocking on the seam of his pants. Temptress.

Ryder cocked his head and looked victorious. “Sorry Wessy, two against one. We win.”

Damn it all, Weston wanted to peck down a tree with his bare beak just to work off the frustration. Unable to win, he yelled and turned, and stomped out of the building.

Freaking Avery was going to demolish him, and now Weston’s best friend, his blood brother, was going to help it happen?

Weston gave the raven his body, embracing the blast of pain that ripped through him. Beating his wings against the air currents, he left his pants behind and aimed for the sky to escape the woman who had betrayed him. Who had
used
him.

There was a reason he was twenty-five and had never had a serious girlfriend.

And that reason was Avery Foley.

Weston Novak hated her.

Avery tapped her pen in quick succession on the counter as she watched him out the big front window. One week of working for Big Flight, and he’d said maybe three full sentences to her. Ryder had taken over her training completely because Weston could barely stand to look at her.

What an utterly confounding man.

A pathetic part of her wanted to believe he was just an angry person and hated everyone, but he and Ryder joked around constantly, and now watching him converse with their first clients hurt her even deeper. He was perfectly polite and charming with the two couples and a family he and Ryder were about to take out on a two-hour ATV trek through the wilderness.

This morning had been busy, and she and the guys had been running around like chickens with their heads cut off to prepare for the first tour. The phone had been ringing off the hook for new tours since Air Ryder had announced the new business on his social media accounts. These mountains would be a feeding frenzy of hungry women in a matter of days, and something about that really bothered Avery. Ryder was happily taken, paired up with a human he called Sexy Lexi, claimed and everything, which left Weston as the only single between the two.

She would have to watch him flirt with clients and eventually settle down. Just the thought of that made her stomach hurt. She wasn’t supposed to like the Novak Raven, but over the past few days, she’d seen him smile, joke, and work on this place relentlessly. He seemed to know what needed to be done and did it. When plumbing needed fixing, the electric needed work, or an ATV gave them trouble, he just solved the problem. He didn’t look to others for help or stand around looking confused. He got the right tools and worked until it was done.

She’d never met a more capable man, and there was something eternally sexy about that.

In Raven’s Hollow, everyone depended on everyone else. That was the culture—one of complete dependence. Their society didn’t work if any of them grew too independent.

But though Weston was a raven through and through, he had been raised in a community where independence was cultured and encouraged. And that used to scare her—the idea of a society where everyone did what they wanted, but now she thought maybe the Gray Backs had the right of it.

Weston was out here on his own, fixing any and everything. He didn’t need anyone to do anything for him, while she barely had any life skills at all.

The more she observed him, the less he scared her and the more she admired him. That didn’t change the fact that he obviously hated her, though. She was stupid to care for a man who had hurt her so deeply all those years ago, but her heart apparently didn’t give two smelly shits about learning lessons.

Outside the window, Weston clapped an older gentleman on the shoulder and jogged toward the shop. Avery jolted upright and tugged at her shorts, checked to make sure her boobs were still covered by the low scoop of her teal tank top. She still had no idea how Ryder got them printed so fast. The logo across her boobs had an owl and a raven flying on either side of the company name. Ryder probably hadn’t meant to, but the birds were each positioned right over her nipples.

The second Weston walked through the door and saw her waiting, the smile dipped from his face. Something about that change in his expression broke her heart.

His bright green eyes dipped down her neck to her chest and back up. He looked startled for a second, before a frown marred his face once again. “Can you hand me a couple of waters?” he asked gruffly.

Avery ducked her gaze so she wouldn’t see the hate in his. “Sure.” She turned, pulled two bottled waters from the glass refrigerator, and handed them to Weston.

He took them, careful not to touch her hand in the exchange. It was too much.

“Why do you hate me?” she blurted out.

Wes froze, his back to her.

“I mean, I’m trying really hard, and I’ve learned everything I’m supposed to. I know you didn’t want to hire me, but Ryder says I’m doing well, and I’ve booked three new tours in the last hour alone. I just don’t understand. You’re so nice to everyone else.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said in a careful tone, giving her the profile of his face. “I just don’t trust you.”

She huffed a hurt laugh. That was rich. He didn’t trust her?

“You find that funny?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her over his shoulder.

“Yeah.” Feeling ill, she leaned back on the counter and crossed her arms over her chest like a shield. “Hilarious. You hurt me deeply—”

“Bullshit. Don’t you play the victim, Avery.”

The venom in his voice stung like a slap, and she grimaced, diverting her eyes to the floor.

“I never hurt you,” he gritted out. “I don’t even know you.”

“I’m proud of you,” she rushed out on a breath.

“What?” He rounded on her.

Ashamed, she pitched her voice low. “Even though you hate me, I don’t hate you. I’m proud of what you’ve become.” She dared a look up at him. “Congratulations on your first tour, Weston.”

He licked his lips and looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, his eyes turned darker and darker until they were black, sparking with intensity. He lifted the water bottles in a strangle-hold and muttered, “Thanks for these.”

“Sure thing,” she said as he left.

When the door banged closed behind him, she jumped at the sound. She hated that everything frightened her. It had only gotten worse as she tried to make her way in the world outside of Raven’s Hollow. Determined, Avery made her way outside and smiled politely at the clients, who were sitting on their rumbling ATVs, chattering happily in a line, the lesson on riding over. Weston stood on his quad, his powerful legs locked as he bent over the handlebars and eased his thumb onto the throttle. He wore a gray T-shirt with the company logo and sunglasses to hide his raven eyes. His camouflage baseball cap was on backwards, and he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. His tattoos were stark against his flexed arms as he made a wide circle and led the group past the porch. His attention stayed locked on her as he drove by, and she could see herself in the reflection of his sunglasses, one hand resting on her collar bone, one up in a tentative wave. And just before he turned away, he jerked his chin once in a silent farewell. Avery gasped. Progress. Perhaps he wouldn’t be cold to her forever if she just kept trying with him. Perhaps they could find some common ground, and he could eventually treat her like he did other people.

Perhaps someday, he would smile and she would be the cause.

The tour rolled by, engines rumbling in the little parade, and as Ryder pulled up the rear, he was frowning at her. He slowed, then stopped in front of her. “You like him.”

Heat blazed up her neck and landed in her cheeks and ears. “I do not.”

Ryder canted his head and squinted his eyes at her. “Lie.”

A shrill whistle sounded from up ahead.

In a hurry, Ryder told her, “It’s his birthday tomorrow. I’m taking him to Drat’s Boozehouse tonight to celebrate. You should show up around eleven.” Without waiting for her to answer, Ryder gunned it and disappeared into the woods after the others, trailing dust behind him.

Oh, she’d known it was Weston’s birthday tomorrow, but she’d assumed he hated celebrating it like he had as a kid. He’d never liked extra attention, but she was a fool for thinking Weston was the same little boy she’d known. They weren’t comparable.

Whatever life the Novak Raven had led from then until now had changed him from the bones out.

I don’t even know you.

His words rang so true, and she understood. He didn’t remember her, didn’t recognize her.

She was beginning to think she didn’t recognize Weston either.