Novak Raven (Harper's Mountains #4)(47)

When the roar of ATV engines brushed her ears, Avery grinned, rushing to the front door to greet the tour.

Ryder held back to gas up the quads for the busy day tomorrow, while Weston strode toward her with the large family they’d taken out. His gaze collided with hers the second she opened the door, and his smile was breathtaking. God, she loved him.

The tour filed past her, murmuring their greetings, and Weston did what he did every time he returned from a tour. He leaned down and kissed the claiming mark he’d given her, brushed the pad of his finger over it gently, then kissed her lips. “Hey, little phoenix.”

And then he squeezed her ass hard. With a laugh for her shocked expression, he followed the others in. The butt-grab was new.

The next twenty minutes was a rush of getting surveys filled out, answering a late call to book a tour for next week, and getting all the returned helmets in order on the shelves in the gear room. Out in the shop, Weston rang up the souvenirs the family wanted. She loved the routine around here. She and Weston and Ryder had grown so comfortable with each other they were running Big Flight like a well-oiled machine already.

She said her goodbyes to the last tour, her hands on her back as they exited the shop. “So I’ve been thinking,” she said to Weston, who was closing down the cash register.

“Uh oh.”

Ignoring him, she said, “I think instead of doing the safety lesson each time, we should do a video, and set up a little screening room out back where the clients can watch it. Then it cuts out the smart alecks who want to joke through the lessons, and it saves you and Ryder’s voices. And you’ll have more time to prepare in between those back-to-back tours while the clients are watching the safety video. We could even make it funny if you want.”

Weston snorted. “Ryder would love that.” He closed the cash register and took the credit card receipts and cash to the office. “I think that’s a good idea. I’m tired of saying the same thing over and over.”

Avery fist pumped and gave a manly grunt, then called, “Can I shoot it? I watched videos on how to make videos.”

Weston laughed from the other room and said, “Sure.”

Ryder shoved open the door and sighed the word, “Margarita.”

She knew the drill, though, so she pointed to the counter where the frosty can of his favorite libation was waiting with a swirly straw already. “Guess what?”

“You got your period.”

“No! Well…yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Ryder slurped his drink. “You got invited to be one of Alana’s bridesmaids.”

“Nope.” Avery drew back. “Wait, is that going to happen?” Damn the excitement in her voice, and damn the smirk on Ryder’s face when he zipped his lips and pretended to throw away the key. Narrowing her eyes at him, she said, “Weston said yes to the video.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Ryder crowed, giving her a high five that made her whole hand sting. She was still new at those. Ryder drank down the rest of the margarita and raised his hand like a schoolboy. “I already wrote the script. I call lead role!”

“You can have all the roles,” Weston muttered as he strode in from the office. “I don’t want to be in it. You ready to go home?” he asked Avery.

“To fuuuuuuck,” Ryder sang, using the tiny blue can as a microphone and pelvic thrusting. “Y’all are loud.”

“We’re loud?” Weston asked. “I literally heard you and Lexi role-playing a saloon girl and an outlaw last night. Every word, Ryder. I’m traumatized.”

“We had to hone our acting skills.”

“Did you have to yell every word in the front yard? I can’t get you saying, ‘Lemme stick my six-shooter in your cooter’ out of my brain. It’s on this puke-inducing endless loop.”

Ryder cocked his head like a proud rooster. “You’re welcome.”

Avery snickered as she made her way behind the counter to grab her purse.

She liked that the boys didn’t tame down their discussions around her. It showed they were comfortable with her. That she was accepted around here. Plus, she had broadened the colorful nature of her vocabulary greatly since she’d started working, and she didn’t know why that made her feel lucky, but it did.

For a moment, a shadow shielded the light from the front window.

Crap, a late tour?

But when she got a glimpse of the visitor through the other window on the porch, Avery froze in fear. It couldn’t be him. Not now, and not here.

Two more figures walked in front of the window, blocking out the pretty evening sunlight. Avery stumbled backward, then inched her way toward the corner, as far away from the door as she could get.

Maybe she’d imagined them.

“What’s wrong?” Weston asked, his eyes intensely trained on her. He was too close to the door. Too close to them.

The door swung wide and in stepped a man she’d never planned on seeing again.

Benjamin.

His eyes weren’t the blue they usually were, but instead were pitch black, matching his dark crop of hair.

Behind him was the head council member, Caden. Her own personal demon. His thick gray hair was disheveled on top of his head, and he looked different. He’d always been able to terrify her with a look, but today his cheeks were red, and his dark eyes sparked with a fury she didn’t understand. He was breathing too hard as he stared down Weston. Maybe he was sick. She couldn’t muster a single ounce of concern for his well-being though. He’d never cared about hers. Behind Caden, her father pulled up the rear and closed the door with a quiet, echoing click behind him.