Novak Raven (Harper's Mountains #4)(37)

Ryder reached his gift first and plucked the orange bear paw beer bottle opener from the newsprint with a frown. “What am I going to do with a keychain like—”

“Ryder,” Weston murmured, holding up his shiny blue one.

“Oh my God, you got us matching beer bottle openers,” Ryder said, his eyes huge. A gleeful grin took his face as he began securing the ring to his keys.

“Avery?” Weston asked. “How much money do you have left?”

She ducked her gaze in shame and refused to answer. It didn’t matter. She wanted to do this for them.

“How much?” Weston asked, gentler.

With a sigh, she answered, “Ninety-eight cents.”

“To your name?” Ryder asked.

She nodded once.

“And you spent money on these?” Ryder asked.

Another quick nod as Weston slid his hand around her waist and hugged her to his side.

Ryder cleared his throat loudly once, twice. He stood and hugged her and Weston in a quick, rough bear hug that nearly cracked all her ribs. In a hoarse voice, he said, “I like you more than Bart now.” He jogged down the stairs and pushed his keys into his back pocket as he escaped toward the ATV garage.

Ryder liked her more than a worm in a pile of cat crap, so she’d just been promoted to eleventh best friend. She shouldn’t be this touched, but her eyes went a little misty.

By the time she turned around, Weston was wearing that crooked grin she adored.

“This is the best birthday present,” he murmured, hooking the shiny beer bottle opener to his keychain. “Is the bear paw cut-out because of my dad?”

“Yeah. And your crew, and the crew you grew up in. And the first day I saw you here, you were drinking a beer, so I knew you liked the stuff. You told me in a letter one time that your favorite color was blue. I picked up Ryder’s this morning. I asked Lexi what his favorite color was, and they only had one orange bottle opener left.” She kicked at the edge of a floor board with the tip of her hiking boot. “I don’t want your relationships to be stressed because of me.”

Weston shoved his keys in his front pocket and pulled her into a crushing hug and rasped his beard against her neck. “You just did more than you even know, Ave.”

“It’s just a keychain,” she said, blushing with pleasure as she hugged his neck up tight.

“Nah, don’t do that. Don’t downplay it. You spent the last of your money on me and my best friend, fixing something I’ve been failing at all day. I can tell you just made Ryder really happy. And you made me really happy, too. The thought you put into this… I’ll always think about how sweet you are when I see it on my keys.”

“Good,” she murmured happily. But his eyes were still off. Still a little too hollow for her liking and pitch black, like his raven was all riled up, and for what? He sounded okay. She traced the dark circles under his eyes and frowned. “What’s wrong? Did you not sleep well?”

The smile drifted from his face, and he gave his gaze to the woods. Cupping his cheeks again, she brought him back to her. “You can tell me. Did you have a vision? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes, and no I don’t want to talk about this one. Not now. Let’s leave this one alone, okay?”

It must’ve been a bad one then. She hated this, hated that he had to endure something so awful. Hated that he couldn’t get good sleep. Hated that he felt like he couldn’t talk to her about it. She leaned up and pressed her lips gently to his. “When you feel like it, I’ll be waiting.”

“Hmm,” he said against her lips. He pulled away suddenly and said, “I got you something, too.”

She let off a playful gasp and linked her hands behind his neck. “Something like what?”

She could feel the relief wafting from him at her willingness to let the last conversation go. It wasn’t her way to push a man who didn’t want to be pushed, and Weston seemed to be happier when their chats were lighter. So was she. Joking with him made her feel so delightfully normal.

Weston grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the shop. “Come here quick. I hear the first car of the tour coming up the road.” As Weston led her inside, she could hear it, too, the faraway roar of a truck engine, or perhaps an SUV.

On the desk in the office sat a beer can vase of small-stemmed wild flowers in purples, blues, and yellows.

“Weston,” she whispered as he handed it to her.

“I called my parents this morning and told them about you. Told them about the way the council used you without your knowledge, and my Da told me I should make you a knife and pick you flowers.” Weston ducked his grin to the floor. “I’ll work on the knife, but the flowers I can do today. I haven’t ever been anyone’s first, you know? I want today to be special for you.”

Avery hugged the blue beer can of flowers to her chest and smelled them to hide her mushy smile. “I’ve never gotten flowers before. And I’ve never had a knife. Will you teach me how to use one?”

“Hell yeah, woman. I’ll have you comfortable with a blade. We’ll get you on that chainsaw as soon as you feel ready. There’s this, too.” He handed her a white envelope. “I’ve decided we’re doing paychecks once a week now instead of every two weeks. I cut Ryder his first check this morning, too, just so you know I’m not giving you special treatment.” Weston slipped his hand to her waist and rested his cheek against hers. “You’ve done really good work, Avery. I’m glad we hired you.”