Page 12 of Target Me
“I voluntarily discharged from the Army last week.”
Why was that so hard to say? I didn’t regret the decision. I knew I was done with that part of my life, but the sense I was adrift without the structure of my old life had been unexpected. Renovating this old farm was my new purpose. It was something that kept me sane when the nights felt too long.
“Ok.”
“This place is… my anchor.”
“Ok.” The understanding in the word the second time she said it was hard to hear. I pushed out of the truck, avoiding her eyes, and circled around to open her door and give her a hand down.
“Today’s demo day. Hope you’re ready to get dirty, hen.”
Her grin was unexpected. The enthusiasm with which she jumped out of my truck, even more so.
“Always keen to get all messed up. Especially if it means I get to break things.”
She was as good as her word. Armed with a mallet each, we demolished the kitchen and main bathroom, hauling cabinets and fixtures to the dumpster I had hired for the occasion. At around one o’clock, I stopped us for a lunch break. I expected her to run for the truck, ready to get away from the heat and the mess of the job. Instead, she volunteered to clean up while I ran into town.
I returned thirty minutes later with burgers and soda to find her singing while she swept. Her voice was deep and seductive as she moved the broom across the floor, her hips swiveling in time to the lyrics. She was completely relaxed, seemingly enjoying the hard work, and I struggled to reconcile her with the girl I’d heard about for years. Finishing the song, she turned, then shrieked when she caught sight of me looming in the doorway.
I held my hands up, trying to placate her. “Just me. Sorry. I brought food.” I waved the burger bag like a white flag.
She pressed her hand to her chest and slumped over the broom. “What the hell were you doing? You scared the hell out of me.”
I felt my cheek tug into a reluctant smile. “You are nothing like I expected you to be, Avery Walker.”
“Thank you?” She tilted her head, as though she weren’t entirely sure what to make of me, before stepping past me on her way out the front door. “Where are you going?”
“To wash up. And so should you. We’re both filthy.”
My breath caught as my mind flew to other scenarios that would make us filthy dirty. Clearing my throat, I followed after her, subtly brushing my hand across the front of my pants to make sure the effect she was having on me wasn’t visible.
“So… Stevie Nicks, huh?” I asked as we settled on the grass next to the front stoop.
One day, I would have a deck wrapped all the way around the farmhouse, but today all I had was some rotting wooden planks that threatened splinters at best for anyone brave enough to take a seat.
From the back windows of the house, the land fell away into a valley. Lush green hills rolled out as far as the eye could see, making you feel like you stood at the edge of the world. The view was part of the appeal of the property. The isolation was a close second. I wondered if Avery appreciated it, or if she was already chafing to get back to her immaculate place of residence.
“I love her music,” Avery said, taking a bite of her cheeseburger and glancing around the yard.
“I thought you’d be into One Direction or Bieber or something.”
“Ew, gag. I have taste in music, thank you very much. Stevie’s songs have meaning. They have heart. You can feel the energy in the lyrics when you sing them. Words have power, you know?”
I nodded, pretending I had any idea what she was talking about.
“What do you listen to?” she asked, turning the conversation back to me.
“Whatever’s on the radio,” I said with a shrug. She snorted, taking another bite of her lunch.
“What?”
The look she gave me was equal parts pity and something else I didn’t quite understand.
“You’re just like my dad, is all. God, no wonder he loves you.”
She had told me before that her dad preferred me, and I wished I could have refuted the claim, but I was beginning to realize General Walker didn’t know his daughter very well. A squirrel skittered down a nearby tree and high-tailed it across the yard as quickly as its furry butt could move as I tried to grasp what Avery had meant by her comment. I felt like I had failed some kind of test.
She watched me quietly as my pride battled with my need to know more. Taking pity on me, she sighed, screwing up her empty burger wrapper.
