Page 93 of Price of Angels

As so often happened after an aggressive snow, the morning was mild, the sky blue and brushed with wisps of high clouds. Everything was wet and gleaming as the snow continued to melt with ever-increasing speed. The water was evaporating, making the lot humid, shot through at moments by a cold breeze coming off the river with that usual taint of muck.

He was almost at the clubhouse, was walking past the small central office building where Maggie Teague ran this entire battleship, when he spotted Ava Teague climbing out of her truck. Ava Lécuyer, he had to remind himself. Here to visit with her mother, most like.

He paused.

He’d approached her before, and almost put a question to her the day she’d brought brownies to the boys after church. It had been on the tip of his tongue to ask her, but he’d been less certain then, still struggling with his own understanding of what was happening in his personal life. And Mercy had been there, glaring at him. So he’d backed off.

But now here she was again, alone, with no one around to disapprove. And the question was a solid, certain weight in his mind now. It was something he felt he had to ask someone. And he didn’t know anyone besides Ava to ask.

“Ava,” he said, as he walked toward her, and she froze, spun to face him, her dark eyes large with surprise.

He’d never said her name before. The sound of it leaving his mouth was more of a shock to him, he thought, than it obviously was to her.

He hung back a few steps, not wanting to crowd her. The way she clutched the halves of her jacket together told him she was nervous and uncertain. Maybe even frightened. How she could marry the likes of Mercy and be afraid of anyone, he didn’t know.

The irony: Holly wasn’t afraid of Michael, even if other women were. They had that in common at least, Holly and Ava – a total lack of fear when it came the men they let into their beds.

“Michael,” she said, her voice polite but careful. “Hi.”

“I…” He held up a hand in a helpless gesture. He didn’t want to scare her worse, and wasn’t sure how to proceed from here. Hell. Nothing to do but ask, he guessed. “Can I ask you something? A favor. It would be a favor to me. You can say no,” he rushed to assure her. “I just…was wondering.”

Her eyes narrowed, expression shifting, growing curious. She edged a half-step back, though. “What sort of favor?”

Shit. She was thinking… “It’s not…” Oh, hell, this wasn’t going the way he’d wanted it to. He took a breath and forced on. “There’s this girl.”

Ava blinked, and he watched her face relax, the wariness giving way to something gentler. He didn’t know her well enough to read her properly, and she was a strange girl, which made it even more difficult.

“Holly,” she said. “From Bell Bar.”

His turn to blink. “Yeah. Holly.”

Ava nodded and offered him a small smile. “She’s your girlfriend?”

“She’s lonely.” God, he was being awkward, and he couldn’t seem to stop. “She doesn’t have any friends and she’s been spending time with me, but I’m…” He gestured to himself, at a loss as to how to explain how ineffectual he was as anyone’s friend.

Ava nodded like she understood.

“I think she ought to have a girl friend. A friend who’s a girl,” he amended.

Ava smiled and then pressed her lips together, erasing the curve in them. “Are you trying to ask me if I’ll be her friend?”

Michael sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. I don’t have anyone else to ask–”

She held up a hand, stopping him. No female had ever done such a thing to him. He was shocked into compliance. “I think it’s really sweet that you care so much about her.”

“Well girls need to talk to other girls, don’t they?” he grumbled. “About girl shit?”

She nodded gravely, and he had the impression she was mocking him a little. “Yes, I think so.”

“So…”

“So I’m not really in the habit of making friends on command.” Shrug, apologetic look. “I don’t know anything about her.”

He frowned at her; little princess brat. “She’s sweet. She can get along with anybody.”

She smiled again, that I’ve-got-a-secret smile. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it, Michael, I’m just pushing your buttons a little.”

It was a full-on scowl he gave her this time.

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