When she saw the state of the roof, excitement joined those sensations, and a smile lifted her spirits.
She parked in front of the café and climbed from the Jeep. Shading her eyes from the sun, she looked up. “Trace?”
Another man peered over the edge, and it wasn’t Cody. This man was older than Trace, with sandy hair and a couple of days’ worth of beard growth. He offered a bright-white grin and a charismatic, “Hey there, beautiful. You must be Avery.”
“JT.” Trace’s bark startled her. She stepped back and turned to Trace as he came out of the café. He was glaring up at the other man, hands on his hips. “What did we talk about?”
“Oh, right.” JT sobered, offered a polite, “Hello, ma’am, I’m JT. Good to meet you. Gotta get back to work now.” And he disappeared.
Delaney’s warnings about Avery’s schedule floated through her head.
“Did you need to hire another guy?” she asked, returning her gaze to Trace. He didn’t look quite right—a little pale and a little pained with heavy shadows under his eyes. Her concern changed directions and mounted. “Where’s Cody? Are you okay? You don’t look so great.”
“Let’s go inside.” He glanced up. “Just let me check on him. I’ll be right in.”
He walked around the side of the building, and there was no doubt his lazy, sexy saunter had been replaced with stiff, slow movement. When he disappeared around the corner, Avery went inside and found all the upper kitchen cabinets installed. All the crown molding in place. The tables and chairs for the center of the seating area had been delivered and stacked along one wall.
Her thrill returned. A smile brightened her face, and she pressed a hand to her heart, making slow circles to take in how beautiful the space looked with all the finishing touches.
The screen door closed while she was looking at the pristine white subway tile he’d installed as the backsplash. “Trace, it’s gorgeous. Oh my God, I can’t believe what a difference—”
His arm slipped around her waist, and he turned her. Wrapping her tight, he pressed his face to her hair and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I said and the way I acted.”
His unexpected, uncharacteristic apology eased her heart open. With her hands on his shoulders, her cheek against his chest, she breathed him in, and the familiar scent of Trace’s musk heated her blood. “I’m sorry, too. I haven’t exactly been an open book.”
She pulled back and felt around his chest, his abdomen. “What’s under your shirt?”
“Let’s sit down.”
Alarm snuck in again. “Where’s Cody?” she asked, sitting on one of the new chairs he brought around for her. “Who’s JT?”
He sat, too, leaning forward, elbows on knees, and covered her hands with his. “Cody fell off the roof yesterday.”
She bolted to her feet. “What?”
“He’s okay.” Trace pulled on her hands, and she sat again, but her heart hammered, and any twinkle of excitement she’d arrived with had been snuffed out. “He hurt his shoulder, and he can’t help with the roof, so I hired JT.”
“Were you on the roof with him? Were you hurt?” Panic hit her from every angle. “How bad is his shoulder? Why didn’t you call me?” She pulled her hands from his and pressed them to her hot face. “Oh my God, I have to call my insurance. Am I covered for this sort of thing?”
Her mind was jumping from one worry to the next, back to the first, then on to another.
“Avery, listen to me, and I’ll answer all your questions.” Trace’s smooth, calm voice focused her. “I didn’t call you because I’ve caused enough stress for you lately and because I had it handled. Cody’s covered by my insurance, not yours. And it’s just a sprain. He’ll only be out of work for a few weeks.”
She pressed a hand to her heart and breathed a little easier. “What about you? What do you have on under your shirt?”
“I bruised a couple of ribs. It’s a brace that makes it easier to work. It’s no big—”
She pushed to her feet again, a hand to her stomach. “You’ve been working with bruised ribs?”
“They aren’t my first. I’m just a little sore. I’m fine with a few Advil.”
“You should have called me.”
He sighed. “Okay. Next time I’ll call you. Would that make you feel better?”
“Next time? No, that doesn’t make me feel better.” She crossed her arms. “Who’s this JT guy? I don’t know him. Is he from here?”
Trace sat back, hands loose in his lap. He looked exhausted and Avery heard Delaney saying, “He’s got a lot on his plate, trying to manage the café and his dad. You’re both balancing very precariously on high wires right now. If a gust of wind came from the wrong direction . . .”