Chapter Three

Avery

The last two days had been a blur. Ever since that terrible phone call, things had been wrong. Everything had been wrong. But Iris was a good baby. She was beautiful and sweet and reminded me so much of Tracy. I couldn’t have made it through the past two days if I hadn’t needed to stay strong for the baby. She was my sole focus and purpose for getting out of bed. I looked at the black dress hanging on the closet door. I had thought about shucking the traditional black but realized I wanted to wear black. It suited my mood.

The morning had gone too fast. Now I was sitting in the front row of a church that was packed with people Tracy had known. I had come early to make sure everything was perfect and had been overwhelmed by the number of people who had taken the time to pay their respects. Each of them cooed over how beautiful Iris was.

When I took my seat in the front row, I could hardly breathe. A shiny black casket was no more than ten feet in front of me. I still couldn’t believe Tracy was in that coffin. It was so wrong. My brain kept telling me it couldn’t be. She was going to show up at any second and sit down beside me.

Iris squirmed and fussed in my lap. I turned her around and put her head on my shoulder, gently patting her back and bouncing at the same time. She didn’t seem to calm and I wasn’t in any mood to sing sweetly in her ear like I’d done a thousand times before.

“Shh,” I whispered as Iris started to softly cry.

I wanted to join in. I wanted to lay on the ground, kick my feet, and slam the floor with my fists. It wasn’t fair. I wanted Tracy sitting beside me. I wanted to laugh and giggle and critique all the women wearing varying shades of black and dark blue with my best friend. My heart felt so empty.

“I can take her out,” Sally whispered as she leaned over.

“It’s okay. This is her mommy’s funeral. She gets to cry.”

Sally smiled. “Yes, she does. You let me know if you need a break.”

The woman playing the organ looked over at me holding the fussing Iris and smiled. I knew I should probably let Sally take her out, but I couldn’t let her go. The chances of me keeping custody of Iris were slim. Social services would be showing up at any minute to take her and give her to a relative. I wanted to cherish every moment I had with her.

“Tracey always told me she wanted me to take care of her daughter should anything happen,” I blurted out. “Nothing was supposed to happen.”

“I know, dear. I know. You’re doing a great job. You’re caring for that little girl, and that’s what matters. Your friend would be happy to know you are honoring her wishes.”

“But Jake is going to take her,” I whispered. “He could show up at any minute and demand custody. I have no legal right. Tracy and I talked about it, but she didn’t put anything in writing. There’s nothing official. I have no legal leg to stand on.”

“We’ll worry about that later. There’s always a way. Let’s focus on putting her to rest, and then we will figure out how to help you fulfill your friend’s wishes.”

I nodded my head as the funeral director stood at the podium. He asked everyone to find a seat. He was about to start the service. The finality of everything was hitting hard. Once he said his bit, Tracy would be taken to the cemetery and buried. She would be gone forever. My heart lurched at the thought of the world without her in it.

The man began speaking, and hard as I tried, I couldn’t focus on what he was saying. I was holding Iris tightly, as if someone would try to take her from me at any minute. Every second that ticked by marked another second closer to me losing Iris. When the practiced speech stopped, I looked up to see what made the man quit talking.

There was a bit of a commotion near the back. I turned to see what was happening and gasped. It was him. Jake Colter had finally shown up. Better late than never, I supposed, although never would have worked better for me. The fact he’d shown up at all did not bode well for me.

He strolled down the aisle in a black suit with a white shirt and a black tie. His long, lean frame was perfectly outlined in what had to be an expensive custom suit. The man absolutely got better with age. His gray eyes met mine, then moved to Iris. I protectively grabbed Iris’s head and pushed it closer to my shoulder.

Someone recognized him and scooted over, making room for him in the front row directly across the aisle from me. I couldn’t look away. I had to look away.

The pastor delivering the speech began to speak again. I turned my eyes to look at him, trying to hear the words. Nothing was making sense. All I could think about was the cool, gray eyes burning into my very soul. I knew he was looking at me. I didn’t return his stare. Instead, I raised my chin and focused on the woman who had started singing some horribly sad song.

I casually looked to my left and found his eyes still on me. It was unnerving. I could make it a little longer. I wouldn’t let him see he was getting under my skin. No way would I give him that kind of power. The service was close to wrapping up, and I had managed to keep from staring at him. I could make it a few more minutes.

“Is that the brother?” Sally whispered.

I nodded. “Yes. I’m sure he’s here to take Iris. He didn’t go to his parents’ funeral, and he hasn’t seen Tracy in years. The only reason he’s here is to take Iris,” I said, fighting the bubble of panic that was rising in my throat.

Sally leaned forward and looked around me. “Too bad you think he’s a jerk. He sure is handsome.”

I shot her a glare. “Sally!” I hissed.

She smiled. “Well, he is—handsome that is. I mean, my goodness, any straight woman would want a chance to take that man to her bed. I can see why you didn’t want to talk to him. I wouldn’t want to talk to a man that good looking either. It’s dangerous.”

I refused to answer. She had no idea how dangerous that blond-haired, steel-gray-eyed man was. He had taken my virginity and my heart and never looked back. I had held on to my virginity like a badge of honor all throughout high school only to lose it at my graduation party to an older guy who didn’t give a shit about me. It had been one of the biggest mistakes of my life. He’d been cocky and arrogant, and for some stupid reason, I had been wildly attracted to him. And he had used that to his advantage.

“Did you want to speak?” Sally asked.

I blinked, turned, and looked at her. I had zoned out again. “What?”

“Would you like to say a few words about Tracy?” she said, gesturing to the microphone being held out to me.

I leaned away from the microphone as if it were a venomous snake. I looked back at the pastor and then over at Jake. He was looking at me as if I should take it. I realized the whole room was looking at me. I couldn’t possibly talk about Tracy. Not in a public setting. Our memories were sacred. I wasn’t willing to share them. Not yet.

“No, thank you,” I croaked out.

“It’s okay, dear,” Sally said, patting my leg. “You don’t have to.”

A woman who worked with Tracy took the microphone. I wanted to kiss her for taking the pressure off me. After another fifteen minutes of people talking about how wonderful Tracy was, the service was over. I loved hearing the stories about how Tracy’s art had impacted them in so many ways. She was a special person; her loss would leave a huge hole in the community.

Once everyone had said their peace, the funeral was officially over. I was escorted out of the room and directly to a waiting limo to be taken to the cemetery. Sally came with me, taking Iris from my arms and securing her in the car seat. From my shielded view in the limo, I watched as Jake walked to another waiting limo. It wasn’t one from the funeral home, which meant he had rented it separately. I shouldn’t have been surprised he wouldn’t want to ride in the limo reserved for the family. He was her only family and couldn’t be bothered.

“Asshole,” I muttered.

“The baby,” Sally said with a scowl.

“Sorry.”

I leaned back in the seat, quietly bracing myself for the next part of the day. It was going to be the hardest hour of my life. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. There was a tap on the window, startling me out of the quiet moment. I looked up and saw Jake’s face peering in the window before he stood, giving me a perfect view of his crotch. His package.

“I think he wants in,” Sally said.

“But he can’t,” I said as a wave of irritation washed over me. “He has his own car.”

“Hon, he is the brother, and there is plenty of room in here.”

I groaned before leaning forward and opening the door.

“Can we talk for a minute?” he said in his smooth, deep voice that had grown more mature and far more masculine with age.

I looked back at Sally. She smiled. “Go ahead. It isn’t like they are going to leave without you. You need to talk to him.”

I sighed and climbed out of the back of the car, making sure to keep my legs together to avoid flashing everyone. I didn’t need a scandal at my best friend’s funeral because of my carelessness.

“What?” I said with a huff, not looking him in the eye.

He reached out and put a hand on my elbow, leading me away from the mourners filing out of the church and into cars. I jerked my arm away. I didn’t want him touching me. He glanced back at the limo.

“Is she in there?”

“Who?”

“The baby.”

I rolled my eyes. “No. I left her with some lady I met at the funeral.”

“Avery,” he said with a scowl on his face.

I glared at him. About a million emotions were running through my head. I couldn’t decipher them all. Everything was crisscrossing and making me feel crazy. There were no words to express what I was feeling, so I did the next best thing. I kicked him in the shin.

When he yelped and jumped backward, I felt like a maniac. What the hell had I been thinking? I had kicked him? That was mature. He was staring at me as if I had three heads. In that moment, I kind of felt like I did. Part of me was grieving the loss of my best friend, another part of me was furious her brother showed up to take her baby from me, and then there was the part of me that had no business showing up at all. It was the part of me that recognized how fucking hot Jake looked in his suit.

I couldn’t let myself think like that. Not now, not ever. He was bad news.