Page 69 of Price of Angels

Michael stood in the foyer a long time after the front door closed, after he’d watched the Chevelle go rumbling out of his driveway. The house was silent as a tomb. Mocking him.

You thought you liked all this loneliness, it whispered to him, in the utter stillness.You were wrong.

Twelve

Leroy’s was a cramped gas station market with a surprisingly diverse grocery store inside, along with a deli and a tiny frozen food section in back. Every few weeks, Holly made the trip to Kroger, to stock up on basics and fresh herbs, but most times, she popped into the hotspot to pick up a few things here and there. Painfully conscious of her man-sized sweats, and what they implied, she parked at the curb and went into the market in hopes they had ground beef for the dinner she’d promised Michael. If they didn’t, she’d already decided she’d traipse across the entire state to get the fixings for the lasagna she’d told him she’d make.

There was a teenage girl behind the register, cracking her gum and flipping through a magazine. She didn’t acknowledge the chime above the door, or Holly’s entrance.

That was fine. Holly picked up a basket and went hunting. She found the beef she needed in the cooler in back, and then she picked up a few other things: bagged lettuce at the deli for a salad, a cheap bottle of white wine, a bottle of Jack, since she didn’t have any at home, a bag of flour for the cookies she planned to make.

She’d just added olive oil to her basket when she stepped back and bumped into another customer.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she rushed to say.

It was Ava Lécuyer standing behind her. She had a basket full of groceries and held a bottle of red wine vinegar in one hand. The collar of her long black wool coat was flipped around her throat against the cold, her cheeks still pink from the brush of the wind.

Holly wasn’t startled, but a little surprised, suddenly off-balance to see this member of the Lean Dogs royal family away from Bell Bar, and out in the real world, like this.

“Hi,” she said, drawing a complete blank. She was suddenly self-conscious. Would Ava sense where she’d been? That she’d spent the night with Michael?

Of course not.

“Hi,” Ava echoed, looking a little surprised herself. “It’s Holly, right?”

“Right.” Holly offered a smile, knowing that, beyond this casual greeting, there was no further obligation of politeness. They’d walk away from one another, and that would be it.

But Ava gestured to her basket and said, “Last minute Christmas shopping, you know? I’m in charge of making the salad.”

Without Carly at the bar, Holly hadn’t been spoken to in any sort of friendly matter in days. Unless she counted Michael, and friendly was too mild a word for what he was with her. “Dinner with your family?” she asked, a nervous fluttering in her chest. She didn’t know if she was any good at small talk. She hoped she was.

Ava nodded. “Just us, my parents, my brother, and my grandparents.” She made a face. “My biker-hating grandmother.”

“Ah.”

Small half-smile. “Yeah.” She pressed her hand to her belly, over her coat, confirming what Holly already knew. “And more biker-spawn on the way, so it should be loads of fun.”

Holly smiled back. “You and Mercy are happy about it, though, so that’s what counts.”

Ava’s smile softened a fraction, voice gentling a touch. “Yeah, we are.” She adjusted her basket. “What about you? Big plans?”

Just a day before, she would have been forced to say “no.” But now, her smile widened and her belly tightened with excitement as she said, “Not big, but they’re plans.” She nodded. “Yeah, plans.”

Ava studied her a moment, expression thoughtful, shrewd, well-guarded. Holly wondered if it was an MC thing, or an Ava thing, her quiet focus.

“With Michael?” she asked.

Holly felt the color come up in her cheeks.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“I don’t think ‘like’ covers it,” Holly said, softly.

Ava regarded her another moment, then gave herself an all-over shake. “I’m sorry, ignore me. I’m home by myself so much these days, and I’ve got writer’s block…I didn’t mean to pry.” She started to turn away.

“You’re not prying,” Holly said. “Actually.” She winced. This felt like a betrayal to Michael. “Can I ask you something?”

Ava nodded.

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