His Greatest Treasure (Greatest Love #4)

Chapter 16

16

OLIVER

I’ve never been one to care about flowers or plants in general, but Avery’s shop is nice. It will be better once it’s finished, but she’s got a good, solid foundation.

There’s plenty of space and natural light. It has a break room, bathroom, and a big cooler that would rival one at a restaurant. The messy writing and flowers painted on the cold walls make it unique, and Nova’s proud of her work in a loud way.

“Your air con should be good to go now. If you have any questions or concerns, give me a call, and I’ll come back out,” the technician tells Avery, a small card extended toward her.

I stare at him, my shoulders squaring of their own accord as she takes his card. He ignores me the way he has since I arrived, only offering Avery a final nod before leaving, a large bag jostling around on his arm.

Mom has Nova in the backroom under the pretense of saying goodbye, but they’re giggling like nuts back there, and if I had to guess, I’d say Mom’s filling the girl full of the candy she keeps in her purse while showing her photos of all of us as kids. She hasn’t stopped talking about Nova since she met her, and I know she’s trying to make up for all the years she’s missed. If Avery let her, I know she’d love to do the same with her .

She’s not the only one.

I ignore that thought and close the door after the technician. With a quick glance up and down along the street, I search for the man we’re all waiting for. It feels wrong as hell to let him take Nova from Avery, even if it is only for a couple of nights, but it’s not my business.

It’s. Not. My. Business.

Maybe if I repeat it enough, I’ll finally get it through my thick fucking skull.

“You and your mom don’t have to stay,” Avery murmurs, leaning over the counter with her hands steepled beneath her chin.

“We’re staying.”

The corner of her mouth curls. “Alright.”

Her hair is loose in its ponytail, stray hairs falling around her face to frame her jaw. She doesn’t pay them any attention, leaving them there to sway in the breeze from the cool air pumping through the vents. A glass bottle of grape pop sits in front of her, dew dripping from the sides before she wraps long fingers around it and lifts it to her lips.

Blue eyes drifting shut, she gulps down the fizzy drink, the column of her dainty throat straining with each swallow. Mine closes in at how regal she makes it look. It’s fucking weird to draw that relation, but I can’t think of anything more fitting.

Avery is beautiful. She has the kind of beauty that stops you on the street and has you contemplating how on earth you’ll manage to start up a conversation with her. Like a siren singing to sailors at sea, you’re powerless to her draw, damn near ready to bend over backward just to see her smile at you.

I’ve felt that draw for years. Tried to forget about it but didn’t succeed. Even with her halfway across the world, I wished for another shot to tell her those same thoughts.

I very well might have ruined my chance, though, considering I didn’t recognize her when she was dropped right in front of me and, because of that, treated her shit and started this war of wills between us.

If she was out of my league before, she’s not even in the same universe as me now.

“Is Chris always late?” I ask stiffly.

I’ve had this guy on my mind for weeks, and not a single thing about him has given me a good impression. The way he spoke to her on the phone had me wishing he were here to pummel.

Avery sets the bottle down and licks her lips clean. She picks at the wet, peeling label. “More late than he is on time.”

“When did you decide on every second weekend?”

“After we split. It was the first suggestion I gave. He didn’t even fight me on it. I haven’t been able to decide if that was a good thing or a horrendously bad one. It saved me on lawyer fees not having to get it taken care of in court, but at the same time, he didn’t even fight for her.”

I’m tense as I stare across the shop at where she leans, waiting for her to tear her attention away from the bottle. “He’s a fool.”

“He is. Nova deserves better.”

“She’s not the only one.”

Our gazes catch when she looks up. I take two steps forward, that draw between us demanding I get closer. She blinks slowly, lashes fluttering over tired, pale blue eyes.

“I haven’t thought about what I deserve in a long time. I’m not sure now is the best time for it,” she admits on a soft exhale.

“If not now, then when? When she’s grown and you’ve been alone for years?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“That’s not fair to you, princess.”

“Parenthood’s hardly ever fair.”

Her shoulders drop, and the sight of it has me moving to the counter. My hips dig into the edge as I stand opposite her and set my hands on it. She watches me move without speaking a word, and I risk taking that as an invitation .

“When’s the last time someone took care of you?” I ask, voice low and rough.

“I don’t remember.”

My chest strains. The words sound wrong coming from her lips. Painful . My head is a mess of half-baked plans and ideas on how to fill the place in her life that is so hauntingly empty. It takes everything in me to shove them down before I blurt out something reckless.

I swallow once, twice, three times before grappling with something safe to say, but nothing comes out. The sad smile that appears in front of me is not what I wanted to see. The shutters slam shut so quickly it’s startling, the window into her heart she’d granted me disappearing, leaving nothing but false normalcy.

“I’ve got to find Nova’s backpack,” she says before pushing from the counter and disappearing into the backroom.

I grip the edge of the counter in tight fists and blow out a tight breath. Moment ruined by my inability to be even mildly open and honest, I drop my head.

The shop door opens fast enough for a rip of wind to slash at my back. I know who it is without having to turn around, but when I do, the sight of his anger-stricken face intensifies my shit mood.

“Where’s my daughter?” he snaps, taking large steps toward me.

By the time he stops, he’s close enough for me to smell the coffee on his breath and perfume on the collar of his oil-streaked shirt. With green eyes the opposite of his daughter’s blue ones, he glares hard, puffing his chest.

He jabs a finger into my chest. “And who the fuck are you?”

“You need to calm down and step back before I tell you shit. Your daughter is close enough she could hear you right now,” I say calmly.

The reminder of Nova doesn’t embarrass him like I hoped it would. He doesn’t drop his finger or back up either.

“If you’re hanging around my daughter and Avery, I need to know who you are.”

“Drop your hand and take a step back, then I’ll tell you.”

He curls his lip but does as I say this time.

I smooth a hand over my chest where his finger leaves a burn in my skin. “Oliver Bateman. Friend of the family.”

“Not that close of a friend, considering I haven’t heard of you. Stay the fuck away from my family.”

Footsteps sound behind me, and then Chris’ eyes dart over my shoulder. He doesn’t smile or relax, only looks back at me with a silent demand for me to fuck off.

Not a chance.

“Chris, this is Gracie Bateman, Oliver’s mom. I grew up around their family, which I’ve mentioned a few times,” Avery explains, her voice overly soothing in the way I’d expect to hear while she’s talking Nova down from a tantrum.

“Dad! You’re here!”

Nova runs at Chris, his lateness forgiven in the blink of an eye. She burrows her face into his chest and winds her tiny arms around him as he lifts her in a hug.

Something gnaws on my ribs as I watch them, an emotion I refuse to admit to myself.

I look away and shift my stance, focusing on Avery instead. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears that I can’t distinguish between happy or sad, and I swear I’m going to break. The shop is suddenly too small, a shoebox I’ve been shoved into with the lid taped shut.

“Mom. Time to go,” I say, hoping to fucking God she can read me well enough by now to know I’m not kidding.

One look at me and she’s nodding before hugging Avery and standing beside me. I pulse my jaw to keep focused and head for the door.

“Oliver—” Avery starts, a single footstep following my name. “Thank you.”

“No worries. ”

I step onto the street, and Mom slips her arm through mine as the door shuts behind us. Counting the seconds, I wait for her to speak, knowing she has something to say.

“He seems like a piece of work.”

“Yeah. But he’s Nova’s dad.”

“Dad or not, he’s still an ass,” Mom huffs.

Slipping my keys out of my pocket, I unlock my SUV doors. “You should stop by again and help her once the flowers arrive.”

“I will. Nova’s first ballet lesson is Wednesday. I’ll talk to Avery about it then.”

“Good.”

“Will you be there too?”

I turn my head, brows furrowed. “Why would I be there?”

“You’re not working, are you?” she asks, the picture of innocence.

With a shake of my head, I open the passenger door for her and wait for her to slip into the SUV before answering, “I don’t know shit about ballet other than what you’ve told me.”

“No, but you seem to know quite a lot about Avery. Much more than I expected after so long apart.”

I pin her with an expression that I hope portrays how little I want to talk about this and shut the door when she pouts up at me. The second I slide into the driver’s seat and slip the keys into the ignition, she’s cranking the AC and fiddling with the music.

“Does she know you had a crush on her growing up?” she asks a beat later.

I freeze, holding my breath. “You knew about that?”

She nods firmly. “I’m your mother. I know everything.”

“You never said anything.”

“If I had, you would have done everything in your power to hide your feelings from me. Once you stopped asking about her, I figured you’d outgrown it. Was I wrong?”

I spread my hands over the steering wheel before holding it tight. “I was young. She had a boyfriend and never came back to visit again. Of course I outgrew it. ”

“Mm, you’re sure about that?”

“She had a daughter with another man.”

“And? If you’re about to say something about not being interested in her because of that, I’ll smack you upside the head, Oliver Bateman. There is nothing wrong with her being separated from her daughter’s father.”

“Jesus, Mom. I wasn’t going to say that.” I release a breath and, with a glance at the shop from the rear-view window, pull away from the curb. “I don’t know why I mentioned that at all.”

She stares at me across the cab before reaching across the console to pat my bicep. “Yes you do. You said it because it upset you to see them all together. I saw the way you stared at Nova and Chris back there. Like you?—”

“Like I nothing . I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Oh, my love. Okay, I’ll leave it alone,” she murmurs. “But if you change your mind, I’m here.”

I won’t, but I don’t bother saying that. There’s no reason to. She wouldn’t believe me anyway.

And she’s not the only one.