Evelyn Crowe - Safe Haven

The stranger filling the doorway clamped his hands over his ears and backed away slightly. “Hey. I’m family.”

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. “So do you usually just waltz in without knocking or letting anyone know you’re coming? You scared the living daylights out of me.” He looked a lot like her boss, but was taller—at least six-seven—and whereas Logan was solid and muscular, this man was lean and stringy. She eyed him warily.

“I’m Tanner, darlin’, Logan’s youngest brother. And I’ve never knocked before and don’t intend to start now. You must be Avery—the burr in Jessie’s craw, new grist for the gossip mill and the reason Dad’s walking around with a grin the Cheshire cat would envy. And yes, I use to play pro basketball.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“But you wanted to.”

“No,” she lied, “it never crossed my mind.” He was charming, handsome and obviously having entirely too much fun at her expense. Avery tried to keep him in her line of vision as she began picking up the fallen manuals. “You called yesterday, didn’t you.”

He nodded and grinned. “Yep. I was surprised when Logan the Bear didn’t answer.”

“Logan the Bear?”

Tanner laughed, a delicious sound of pure amusement. “You got it, sweetheart. He has other pet names—as do we all. But that’s for another day. You can see I’m harmless, though, so why don’t you stand up and let me get a good look at you?”

“Harmless” was not a term that fitted this man. His charm, she sensed, could be most dangerous. And where Logan’s eyes were light brown, Tanner’s were black, lively and full of mischief. Even though she had to bite her tongue to keep from asking a dozen questions, one slipped out. “Why did you order me to hang up?”

“It was an obscene call, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “No one said anything.” As she restacked the manuals on the desk, she continued to watch him, but he didn’t seem inclined to do more than drape himself in the doorway. “What makes you think the call was obscene?”

“You were angry. Your cheeks were on fire, and those big gray eyes were kind of iced over.” He straightened. “We’ve all gotten a few of those calls. It seems to go with the territory of being a main topic of conversation in this town. Don’t let them bother you. It’s just kids and their nonsense.”

Avery had always had a kind of radar for trouble. She didn’t know Tanner well enough to tell him her own feelings about the caller. She finished stacking the books, pretending not to see the way he looked her over, but she was painfully aware of the warmth that stained her cheeks. The absurdity of it almost made her smile. She’d blushed more in the past twenty-four hours than she had in the past five years, all brought on by Monahan men.

“Where’s Logan, by the way?” Tanner glanced at his watch. “It’s a bit early, but my stomach tells me it’s lunchtime.”

“Damn,” Avery said as she rounded the desk and almost knocked the books off again. “I forgot about lunch.” Tanner didn’t move and she was forced to stand and wait.

“Let me ring the barn,” Tanner said. “That’s where he spends most of his time—where he hides from the world.”

Tanner stepped around her, picked up the phone and punched in a number. He gave her a wink. “Don’t worry about lunch. I’ll fix it.” He stopped her protest by motioning for her to be silent. “Hey, Logan. How about coming up to the house? I’m starving.”

Tanner knew the kitchen far better than she did. She realized all too quickly she was only in his way. Finally, after they’d bumped into each other twice, he guided her to a chair and gently but firmly pushed her into it. All she could do was watch as he gathered items from the refrigerator and set to work. What Logan would think when he saw his brother taking over her duties, she couldn’t say. She decided the best thing to do, however, was keep her mouth shut and be still.

“Have you ever had a grilled cheese sandwich Texas-style?”

Avery shook her head, amused and a little miffed at just how efficiently Tanner moved around the kitchen.

“You’re in for a treat. Mind you, it’s not often I make these for anyone but Logan. So don’t get any ideas about making them yourself just because it’s my brother’s favorite meal.”

She grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.”

She kept a straight face, though she had to work at it, as he pulled a loaf of bread from the freezer, then held it close to his body as if trying to keep Avery from seeing it. Then she realized why. He was thawing it just enough to separate the extra-thick slices.

Just as Tanner was carving slabs off a block of cheese, Logan walked in. Avery had been so captivated and amused by Tanner’s running dialogue about everything and nothing that she’d forgotten to keep her guard up. Logan’s eyes found hers and held her gaze for a long moment, as if searching for an answer to something. She was the first to look away.

Logan hung his Stetson on the hat rack, and his gaze shifted to Tanner, who was busy at the counter. “I see you’ve met Peewee.”

Avery felt more than saw Tanner bristle at the name, and didn’t know whether to move out of the way or laugh when he carelessly tossed a wrapped stick of butter at Logan.

Logan plucked the butter smoothly from the air, unwrapped it and handed it back to Tanner.

“I hope you’ve washed your hands,” Tanner said, then glanced at Avery, his black eyes dancing with laughter. “You do know that half the time a vet is up to his elbows in—”

“Mind your manners, little brother, at least until she knows you better.” Logan opened a cabinet, pulled out a blender, then looked at Avery. “We tend to make chocolate malts at lunchtime—especially for washing down Tanner’s clunkers—so you’d best get the vanilla ice cream out of the freezer. There’s a jar of malt in the pantry.”

And that was how it started—Logan and Tanner treating her as if they’d known her for years, sending her scurrying around the kitchen fetching, carrying and measuring while Tanner explained the highlights of his methods for making the “world’s best” Texas-style grilled cheese sandwiches. Logan, too, was diligent about explaining the art of concocting his “prizewinning” extra-thick malts. Of course, both explanations were going on at the same time, and any questions she might have asked were hopelessly lost in the cacophony.

At last the meal was ready. She picked up half of her monster sandwich and raised it to her mouth, then paused. The brothers waited, their amused gazes on her. She realized they were waiting for her praise. She eyed Tanner, then Logan over the top, deliberately stretching out the moment.

“I can feel my arteries clogging already.” she said.

Finally she took a bite. Logan and Tanner leaned forward as warm soft cheese oozed from the sides of the crispy-brown toast. Avery closed her eyes and slowly chewed. She swallowed and looked at Tanner. “Bigger is better,” she said with a smile. She meant it. The sandwich was wonderful.

“Now try the malt,” Logan urged.

She wiped her greasy fingers on her napkin, reached for the frosty glass and took a huge gulp. It was thick and entirely too cold. Immediately she paid for her gluttony, but even though a knife-sharp pain shot through her head, she grinned and managed a hoarse, “Heavenly.”

“Brain-freeze.” Logan laughed and picked up his own sandwich. “Happens every time.”

Avery hadn’t thought she could finish the sandwich. But not only did she clean her plate, she tilted her glass until every last drop was drained. With a sigh of contentment, she set the glass down, then realized Logan was staring at her. A flash of heat colored her cheeks.