The Last Boyfriend-2 Boonsboro by Nora Roberts

Author:Nora Roberts
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

EARLY IN THE new year, armed with a thick binder, Avery

did yet another walk-through of what she firmly thought

of now as MacT’s. But this time she had Hope and Clare

as sounding boards.

“The bar along there. Dark wood, something that

makes a statement. I’m going to try to sweet-talk,

cajole, beg, and sex Owen into making it.”

“How’s that going?” Clare wondered. “The sex part.”

“Look at this face.” Avery pointed her thumbs at her

own face.

“Satisfied, relaxed, happy. And just a little bit smug.

So question answered.”

“So far, so good. Lights there, there, there, warm

tones. And I’m thinking a leather sofa—maybe dark

brown—over there, coffee table. Some high tops in the

front window, low tops there and there. And the passthrough

to the restaurant will be right there.”

“It’s going to be great. But before we get into color

wheels and tables,” Hope added, “one must ask why

you’re not bragging about said sex, or offering details to

the one, sad one of us who isn’t having any.”

“I might jinx it, and make you sadder.”

“Please.” Hope flicked that away. “I saw Owen earlier,

and his face also looks satisfied, relaxed, and happy. I’m

not sure about smug, though he may have been

masking that. Are you seeing him tonight?”

“No. I’ve only got about an hour, then I’ve got to get

over to the shop. I’m working. And he’s—all of them—

are so busy right now. Prepping for the opening in a few

days, working on the other building, planning for this

one. We’ve been together almost every night since New

Year’s, and I thought . . .”

“You needed a break?” Clare suggested.

“I thought I—we—should take one. You know how I

can get. I always go into something like this thinking it’s

casual, it’s fun, it’s natural. You like the guy, trust the

guy, you’re attracted to the guy, so you go with it. Then,

being me, I start wondering, is it more, should it be

more, is this love—big L?”

“Are you in love with Owen?” Clare asked.

“I got the . . .” She fluttered a hand at her heart.

“The MacTavish Heart.” Hope nodded.

“It can’t be trusted. But the thing is, I’ve loved Owen

forever. I love all the Montgomerys. It’s in the bone. So

this could be that. Kind of a false positive. If it turns into

the big L, it could mess things up.”

“Why,” Clare demanded, “do you automatically

assume he couldn’t big L you back?”

“I don’t know, maybe that’s in the bone, too.” She let

her shoulders rise, then fall. “I think part of it’s a mother

issue, which is just depressing.”

“You’re nothing like your mother.”

“And I don’t want to be,” Avery said with a nod at

Clare. “She cheated and lied and used. Sex was easy for

her, it was sure as hell casual for her. So I think the part

of me that can’t handle the thought of being anything

like her takes the easy, casual sex and insists on making

it more. Like a reflex. Or antidote. Then I switch it

around because the big L hardly ever works. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” Hope insisted. “It’s you.”

“But now it’s me and Owen. Every time I’ve been

involved with a man I end up making it more because,

you know, flutter.

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