His Greatest Treasure (Greatest Love #4)

Chapter 38

38

OLIVER

Avery should take away the spare key to the shop she gave to my mother because it was entirely too easy to convince her to let me have it. One fast blink of my lashes and she was putty in my hands, offering it up with warm words of encouragement and a tight hug.

Tool boxes fall to the tile with clunks that make me flinch and rush to assess the potential damage they’ve caused. My squad watches as I shift each one and smooth a hand over the tiles beneath to make sure there are no dents or chunks taken out before pinning each and every one of them beneath a look that speaks to how on edge I am.

“Careful,” I warn.

“You got it, Lieutenant,” Hart calls, adjusting her baseball cap and the loose tool belt around her waist.

“You break it, you fix it. I appreciate you all coming to help me with this, but my fuse is short today.”

“Just today? I thought you were going to start taking swings at Cap when he tossed you on desk duty last shift,” Adams says, feeding into my displeasure with that reminder.

Desk duty has never been the end of the world. But to me, it feels like it more often than not. I’m too on edge riding the desk. I like to be out there saving lives, not locked inside while I watch my squad rush out in their turnouts with sirens blaring.

That’s not to say I didn’t deserve it. My attitude was piss-poor all last shift, and I’m positive it was the events of the day before that did my head in. Everything I was capable of doing before she came back into my life is impossible to accomplish now without her by my side. Her refusal to use my SUV instead of her rental is only another thing that I’m stressing over.

I’ve spent the last four days with my mind running fucking rampant with ways to convince her to let me help, but ever since speaking to my dad yesterday, I’ve shifted gears to what I can do to prove myself to her instead. And while finishing her shop up for her isn’t the only thing I want to do, it’s somewhere to start.

Mom told me she’s taking Avery to meet with a lawyer today to finalize the terms of custody she’s proposing to Chris. It was music to my ears. Pride flooded me at the strength and confidence it’s taking for her to put her foot down with him.

Avery hasn’t been to the shop in days, and I had Mom promise me that she’d try to keep her busy enough to avoid it for another three. By the time I’m off next shift, this place will be ready for her.

My squad didn’t hesitate to offer me their help, and they’ll never know how much that means to me.

“I’d take a swing at you, not Cap,” I answer Adams.

He laughs brashly. “Yeah, yeah. Just tell us what you need.”

“I ordered new countertops for the front desk and break room that should be arriving in a few minutes if one of you can help with the install. The flower cooler needs to be scrubbed clean before the new shelves go up, and there’s some furniture in the back of my uncle’s truck parked out front that’s got to be brought inside, along with a new vanity for the bathroom.”

“I’ve got the countertop. Do you want to wait to bring the stuff from the truck inside until after that’s installed?” Patel asks, leaning back against the wall.

“If we bring it all in and set it along the one wall, it should be out of the way for the countertops. They’re marble, so they weigh a shit ton. If you need an extra set of hands, just let me know,” I answer.

Three more members of my squad volunteer to scrub up the cooler and bathroom and, without hesitation, head for the sink to fill the buckets I brought with soap and water.

Adams looks past me and stares questioningly at the guy that pulls the shop door open and steps inside. I extend my hand toward him once I read the business name on his shirt.

“Countertop guy?” Adams asks.

With a shake of my hand, the guy says, “Travis, but yes. You got an extra set of hands for me?”

“It’s ready to go?” Patel asks before striding toward Travis and walking with him outside.

“It’s you and me on lifting duty, then?” Adams knocks his shoulder against mine.

Hart steps up in front of us. “What do you want me on?”

“Avery likes you the most out of everyone. Are you up for a more personal job?”

“She doesn’t like her most,” Adams grunts.

Hart rolls her eyes at him. “Yes, she does. But your opinion doesn’t matter, anyway. What do you need from me, Lieutenant?”

“Have you ever designed a kids’ corner before?”

“No, but I’m up for the challenge. What do I need to know?”

I aim to dump the info on her quickly but wind up spending twenty minutes telling her about all things Nova. From her obsession with frogs, sprinkles on her pancakes, and ballet to her fear of the dark and courage to be the one to take care of the spiders that appear in the house. Some of the information isn’t useful for the task I’ve given, but that isn’t enough to stop me.

Even after Hart’s started to grin at me, her head shaking slightly, I don’t end my ramble. Only once I’ve momentarily run out of things to say do I finally trail off.

She dips out of the shop before I can dig back into my head and find something else to say, but that doesn’t mean I let it go. The opposite, actually.

I ignore the people moving around me and come up with another part of my plan, this one meant just for Nova.

“I’ll be suing you for the injuries to my back after today, Bateman,” Adams groans after we move the second pink armchair into position.

“If you think this is too much strain for your back, maybe it’s time to consider retirement.”

“I’ll retire when I’m dead.”

I make a deep, humoured noise in the back of my throat. “No point in retiring if you’re already dead.”

“I’m only a few years older than you, jackass.”

“In mind or body?”

“Both.”

“If you say so.”

“I could bench-press you in my sleep,” he boasts.

“You’re talking out of your ass.”

“I think I actually prefer when you don’t speak. The days when you’d just grunt and mumble were some of the best of my life.”

I adjust the placement of the glass-topped coffee table and grunt in reply before leaving him waiting for an answer. The shop smells like lemon cleaner, and while it isn’t completely ready for any type of grand opening, it’s close.

I left the last few tasks for Avery to complete. This is her space, and all the finishing touches and decisions should be hers to make.

The two armchairs and coffee table tucked in the corner and in front of a wall of shelving units were the only pieces of furniture outside of the several sets of shelves that I took a chance on filling the space with. They’re the same pale shade of pink as the Swedish flowers she named the place after, and when Mom tested the comfortability of them at the shop this morning, she was quick to tell me to buy them before someone else did.

Now that they’re here, I know I made the right decision.

Most of my squad has cleared out now, leaving just Adams and me waiting for Hart to finish setting up Nova’s corner of the shop.

“What do you think, Oliver?” she asks, noticing I’m no longer bickering with Adams. “Think Nova will like it?”

“She will.”

The round table Hart grabbed from the store earlier has been put together and painted with tiny frogs, a variation of Swedish flowers that I researched last night, ballet slippers, and scattered multicoloured sprinkles. It’s not much—not yet—but it will be. For now, it’s a piece of home brought here for Nova.

“You really love Avery’s little girl, huh?”

It’s Hart who asks the question, but Adams stares at me too, waiting for an answer.

“Yes.” It doesn’t feel sufficient enough.

Adams sits on one of the pink chairs and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “Is there any update on the father?”

“Not yet.”

They don’t know much about it, and for now, I want to keep it that way. Avery doesn’t need them knowing all the gritty details.

“My dad was a piece of shit. Sometimes they aren’t worth a place in our lives,” Hart says.

“It’ll be Avery’s choice and then Nova’s. Whatever they choose, I’ll be there for them.”

She smiles up at me from the floor. “You’re a good man.”

“It feels like the bare minimum.”

“That’s because you’re a stand-up guy. Grumpy as fuck sometimes, but you’re good shit. Honest and honourable. Sometimes, even the bare minimum of qualities can be hard to find because everyone wants to be an asshole,” Adams says.

“I don’t want an award for being a decent person. I just want them.”

“Swoon,” Hart mumbles.

“Don’t fawn over him, Hart. He’s already too arrogant for his own good,” he scolds her.

I cock a brow. “I thought I was a stand-up guy? Which is it?”

He stands and drags his big body toward me. With a deadpan expression, he tugs me into a hug.

“You’ve done good by them. I can’t wait to spend more time getting to know your family, Lieutenant.”

A surprising swell of emotion comes after his words register, and I clear my throat before returning the hug and slapping his back.

“Thank you.”

“I still have hope Avery will be able to knock that grumpiness right out of you.”

“You’d miss it,” I say.

“Ain’t that the sad truth. I’ll see you in the morning for shift. Try not to get stuck on desk this time, yeah? Missed you calling the shots out there.”

When he pulls back and pushes his hair out of his eyes, I jerk my chin in agreement. “I’ll be fine.”

“And for the love of God, make sure this is the last shift without Avery waiting for you at home. I can’t take sad Oliver anymore,” he adds.

“That’s the plan.”

“Great. If you need anything else, don’t ask me. I need to sit in a hot bath until work tomorrow.” He waves at Hart. “Finish with your arts and crafts and get home, rookie. You don’t get points for coming into work exhausted.”

She flips him off before collecting the paintbrushes on the table into a plastic cup. “See you tomorrow, sunshine.”

Adams whistles while he leaves, and a minute later, Hart starts shoving all of her stuff into her purse. I take the paper plate with paint swirled over it and dump it into the garbage bag by the counter.

“They’ll love this, Oliver. It was a nice gesture,” she says.

“Hopefully. Anything less and I’ll be figuring out something else to do.”

“If you need any help with that, I’m up for the challenge.”

“Thanks, rookie.”

“Becs works. Even Rebecca.”

“You’ll be rookie for a long while still. Better to get used to it.”

She huffs. “Right.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Good night, Lieutenant.”

I hold the door open for her as she steps out onto the street and disappears into a tiny car. Once she’s gone, I turn the lock on the door and survey the changes to the shop.

It’s so close to the finish line.

I just hope I am too.