Shanna looked out over the chairs, and Mrs. Brown patted the seat next to her. The two of them looked at Shanna’s camera screen, talking quietly about the photos. Avery took a deep breath and collected herself.
“Oh, she’s here!” Shanna hopped up from her seat and said her goodbyes to Mrs. Brown, then came over to give Avery a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
Becca waved from the door. “Hey, Avery. Call if you need her.” She winked at Avery, and for the hundredth time that day, Avery wished she was going over to hang out, too.
“I will.”
She saw Mrs. Brown and her dog, then came out to the reception area to take down her final notes. Julia had gone home, leaving a couple of sticky notes on the countertop.
A knock on the door interrupted her. She looked up, expecting to see Shanna running in to tell her one last thing or to grab something she’d forgotten.
But it wasn’t Shanna closing the door carefully behind her, shutting out the cold.
It was Tucker.
15
Avery’s blue eyes arrested him, stopping him just inside the door to the clinic. They hadn’t spoken in two weeks, and she still took his breath away. Here, in the clinic, wearing that white coat—this was where she belonged. He didn’t regret fixing it up for a second, no matter how things turned out between them. And she’d taken it further than he had. New photos hung on the walls, and the whole place had a sense of motion and movement about it. People used this place now.
“You’ve done an amazing job, Avery. I’m proud of you.”
Her eyebrows lifted at the words, surprise coloring her cheeks. But then she nodded, her face darkening. He knew he was the cause of that upset look. If the blame wasn’t all his, enough of it was that it had eaten him up inside. Ten long years stretched between them now that most of his memories had returned, though he couldn’t remember all the details of the breakup. Just a few phrases, here and there, and an overwhelming feeling of regret.
“Hey, Tucker.” Avery’s voice was cautious, hesitant. “What are you here for?”
“Can we talk?”
She lifted her chin, and for a heart-stopping moment Tucker was sure she would say no and kick him out of the clinic again. If she did that, he’d have to try again…but it wouldn’t happen until she was good and ready. That could take years. A decade, even. Avery’s shoulders dropped an inch.
“Let’s go into the house. Let me just close up here.”
Avery locked the door and turned out the lights. Tucker moved around her, ending up in the center of the reception area. She cleared her throat and moved past him, careful not to touch him on the way to the door that led into the house. Avery took a set of keys from her pocket and unlocked the adjoining door, then stepped through.
The hallway was different from how he’d left it. New frames decorated the walls, and he stopped to look at the first collection. Photographs. Pride swelled in his chest.
“Did Shanna take these?”
“Those, and all the ones hanging in the clinic.”
Tucker’s jaw dropped. Shanna had been showing him her pictures, but these were different. They used different angles and played with the light, and all of them featured things that a ten-year-old would find interesting. Her Animorphs books. Her mom, cooking. A notebook from school, open on her desk.
“She’s good.”
“She’s her father’s daughter.” Tucker didn’t miss the note of sarcasm in Avery’s voice. He silently vowed not to fight with her. Tucker pointed at some of the pictures on the opposite wall instead. She’d taken quite a few of animals, both in the clinic and on Cade’s ranch.
“And she has her mother’s love of animals. A winning combination.”
A smile broke across Avery’s face, one that looked like she’d intended to hold it back. It was there and gone in a flash, but Tucker saw it.
“What do you want, Tucker?” She sounded so tired, yet there was still a note of hope in her voice. Of longing. He knew that feeling.
“I want to start over.” He wanted to go back ten years and do things all over again, but that wasn’t an option. “I’ve got most of my memories back, but I still don’t remember the breakup. Or at least every detail of it. And I believe you,” he said quickly, before she could protest. “I believe your side of it. I just think there’s still something missing.”
“I don’t see how there could be.” She let her arms hang by her side. That had to be a good sign, right? If she was really pissed, she’d fold them over her chest. And then he’d find himself out in the snow, alone.
“Because I remember how good we used to be.” He had so many sun-soaked memories of her from school. It seemed to him that he had always seen her in the sun, even on the dreariest winter days. “We used to talk about our life plans together. It never seemed like anything was out of reach, with you by my side. And I think you felt the same way.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“It was,” he agreed. “But it’s not all that different now.”
Avery snorted.
“It’s not,” he insisted. “We’re both in town to stay, this time around. We both want the same thing.”
She cocked her head to the side, studying him. “Do we?”
“Yeah.” Hope flickered brightly inside him. He couldn’t help it. “We have Shanna in common, and we both want her to be happy.” Tears came to Avery’s eyes, but she blinked them back. The only evidence was an extra shine. “We got the clinic fixed up together, and that could be the very start of it. We could make a life together, Avery.”
Her face softened, and Avery’s lips parted, as though she wanted to taste the words coming out of his mouth. At that moment,
