Ava and Her Soldier: Rosalind Brewery Series, #1

By Palmer Jones

"I try to live without regrets, Ava. Deploying without having one night, one kiss, would be a major regret."

 

Ava Sanderson doesn't "do" casual dating.

She wants to date one man, not a dozen. Sleep with one man, not a dozen.

And after switching from her decade long career in chemistry to co-owning Rosalind Brewery with her two best friends, swearing off all forms of dating is easier than taking the risk. Because when Ava falls for a guy…she falls hard.

 

Jake Rossi needs a distraction for the next two months before he deploys back to the dessert or to wherever the Army wants to send him. A couple of months as a maintenance man at the Rosalind Brewery seems like an easy job.

Until he meets Ava.

The woman is wicked smart, doesn't have a clue about construction, and fights him at every turn. Jake can help- if she lets him.

But that's not all Jake wants. He wants a date.

One date before he deploys.

Before he leaves Asheville and never returns.

 

Ava and Her Soldier, Book One in the Rosalind Brewery Series, is a full-length romance novel full of laughter, sexy bits with a hunky soldier, and a satisfying happily ever after.

 

 

(Previously published as Ava.)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sweet Blooms Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Jul 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393667834

Palmer Jones

Palmer Jones writes fun and flirty, romantic fiction. Born and raised in the South, she loves to travel but will always call Georgia her home. With a degree in accounting, she spends part of her day immersed in numbers. The rest of the time is spent with her friends, family, and hiding away in the worlds she creates through her stories.

Book preview

1

Jake Rossi didn’t retreat.

Not from a fight. Not during any Special Ops mission, no matter how dangerous. And definitely not when a woman like her marched in his direction.

A wise man would turn and run in the other direction, away from her hard glare and fisted hands.

He never claimed to be wise.

It wasn’t bravery that kept him rooted in place this time. Nope. Just a shit-ton of curiosity. Why, on this rainy morning, was a gorgeous woman he’d never seen before headed straight toward him with a decent amount of pissed-off determination?

Excuse me? In which aisle will I find the nail guns?

Nail guns?

Jake set a box of screws back on the shelf. I don’t…

His denial of working at the hardware store never materialized. How did her eyes match the sky over the mountains before a blizzard? A beautiful variation of blue and gray.

She tucked an errant strand of mink-colored hair behind her ear, those pretty eyes darkening with the impending storm as she pressed her lips into a tight thin line. Do you mind helping? I’ve gone all over this place, and I’m in a bit of a time crunch.

Not at all, he murmured, a little in a daze. Why the hell not? With time to kill before his job interview, the idea of spending the next few minutes with this person topped damn near anything else he could do at the moment. He adjusted his baseball cap and smiled. They’re this way, ma’am.

Keeping his stride short so she could keep up in those icepick heels, he led the way down the aisle and to the next. With its beige tile floors and fluorescent lighting, the small-town hardware store in Hillsboro, North Carolina, could’ve passed as a direct replica of the one back home.

Well, except for her.

Why in the hell was she in a hardware store searching for a nail gun?

Her navy suit was crisp and pressed, her hair pulled back into a type of styled twist. Overall, she looked like a lawyer or a banker. Definitely a businesswoman.

Granted, looks were deceiving. His younger sister proved that. Zoey dressed like she could walk in a fashion show most of the time, but she could rewire a light fixture quicker and cleaner than most of the electricians back home. The by-product of growing up in the family construction business.

Here we are. Jake motioned to a decent selection of nail guns he’d browsed earlier. The best the city of Hillsboro has to offer.

The woman stopped beside him, a soft exhale leaving her lips as her shoulders dropped two inches. Great. I walked right past them like ten times. Then, with hardly a glimpse in his direction, she stepped up to the first box. Thanks for the help. She tipped her head down over her phone and swiped up until a long string of text appeared. Placing a finger on the box of the first nail gun, she read the specs, looked at her phone, looked back at the box, and then moved to the next one. Her lips, a soft shade of pink, moved soundlessly as she repeated the process twice more.

Curiosity got to him. I don’t mind helping narrow down the selection if you tell me what you’re looking for. Crossing his arms, he leaned his shoulder on a box, amused by how her eyebrows bunched together with confusion as she walked back to the beginning of the section, starting over. What will it be used for? Framing? Finishing? Nailing together a coffin for an ex-boyfriend?

She snorted, lips pulling to the side in what seemed like a smile. With the price of lumber, I don’t plan on wasting any more money on my ex. She shook her head and scanned the side of the box again. Thanks, but I know what I’m looking for. I’m sure there’s someone else you can help.

Someone he could help in a store where he didn’t work?

Not likely.

Jake rubbed a hand across his mouth. This probably wouldn’t end well, but he really wanted to spend more time with this person while he was in town.

Don’t kick me to the curb with your ex just yet. Pushing upright, he set his hands on his hips. I’m completely at your disposal. Tell me what you need it for and your budget, and I can help you find one.

She dropped her hand to her side and faced him, sucking in a massive breath as if she were preparing to tell him to get lost. Maybe she should.

But he opted to hit her with a flirty grin and flipped his baseball cap backward, ready for whatever she threw at him. Damn. She really was cute.

She exhaled slowly, those stormy eyes quieter as some of the stubbornness he’d sensed evaporated. This was his opening.

Please. I can’t promise I know everything about these nail guns, but I know a hell of a lot about most of them and what they can do. Use me. Save yourself a little trouble. I can be your own personal shopper.

Slowly, as if still processing his offer, she held up a nail he hadn’t noticed before. I want it to shoot this.

Jake accepted the nail. Vague request, but he’d try his best. This nail, huh? He tossed up it in his hand, having already recognized it.

She dipped her chin. I did the research. I need one that fires three-and-a-half-inch galvanized nails. She twisted back, looking at the wall of guns in boxes. Now I just need to find it. I assumed it would be on the box, but I’m not seeing it. Maybe I do need your personal-shopper skills.

It was a framing nail. One used to build houses. Or maybe a very large coffin for an ex.

A little odd that someone would come to the store to buy what could amount to a five-hundred-dollar nail gun with only a single nail to go by. No mention of the brand or angle of the gun. Just one damn nail.

Jake scanned the boxes, considering his starting point. Alright. Challenge accepted. Do you need it cordless, or do you have an air compressor? He squatted, pulling one of the boxes off the shelf. I’ve used one like this before. Good brand. Not top-of-the-line, but she’d get a few years of use out of it if she wasn’t building houses every day.

She scrolled almost frantically through her phone. I’m not sure, she finally whispered, barely loud enough to catch.

If you have an air compressor, you should get this one. He drummed his fingers on the box in front of him. You won’t have to worry about charging a battery and being stuck with a lot of downtime unless you have an extra battery always charging.

She nodded her head, still seeming a little lost. Right. Yes. Let’s do that.

But do you have an air compressor?

Again, more scrolling on her phone and another frown. Now her frown was accompanied by a pink flush across her cheeks.

Jake looked at the ground, keeping his humor hidden. She was clueless and desperately didn’t want to be that way. Laughing and making an innocent joke probably wouldn’t land well. Definitely wouldn’t land him the date he wanted.

Even if a date wasn’t the most brilliant idea with his temporary situation.

I think I have a solution. Follow me. He stood, then walked to another section of the aisle, glad she trailed right behind him. They make an everything-in-one package, he called back. Like this. He tapped the box with the toe of his scuffed work boots. This includes a portable, six-gallon air compressor and two types of nail guns—he passed back the nail—including one that will shoot these, as requested. Better value if you need both the gun and the air compressor.

Her smile felt like the sun bursting from behind clouds. The insecurity and frustration disappeared. Perfect! I’ll take it.

Can I carry it to the front for you? Because he needed more. It’d been a damned long time since any woman remotely interested him. But then again, this was his longest period between deployments.

And now he had two months left. The army had graciously notified him of a new deployment timeline. Earlier than he’d expected. But that usual anticipation of going back to war and straight into whatever high-risk mission awaited him was far away while standing with her.

Jake picked up the box. If you go back the way we came, you can grab a few boxes of the nails you need. He walked beside her, pleasantly aware each time she cut her eyes his direction only to snap them back to the front when he caught her looking.

Are these them? For the first time, a hint of a soft Southern accent appeared. She began reading each box, just like with the nail guns. All the tiny words on the boxes that he’d never paid attention to before.

Jake waited while she figured it out. No reason to rush. Hell, at this point, he could miss his job interview and not care if only he got to spend the morning with her reading the fine print on every box in the damn store.

She picked up a box. Here they are!

Those look right. I’m Jake, by the way. No reason not to press his advantage.

A smile lingered on her lips as she studied him. I’m Ava.

Pretty name. Do you live around here?

Slowly, she pivoted on her skinny heel and started an easy saunter toward the front of the store, Jake following right behind her.

Somewhat, she replied as he caught up with her. What about you? Do you live in the big city of Hillsboro?

He shifted the box in his hands as they stopped at the back of the short line. Somewhat.

What a coincidence. Ava held his gaze, and he retracted his earlier assessment. She might be cute when she was flustered, but right then, cute wasn’t what he’d call her.

Now he was the one who felt the heat on his cheeks.

The line moved, and he set the air compressor/nail gun box on the counter. Since we’re both ‘somewhat’ living around here, do you want to grab dinner or a drink sometime? There are a lot of great breweries in the area.

He hoped she took it for the way he meant. Something easy and light. Temporary was all he could do. Once he deployed, he wouldn’t come back to Hillsboro. The small town near Asheville would be a distant memory, just like all the rest.

But he wanted Ava to be part of that memory.

Again, she stepped forward as the line moved, looking more interested in the box of nails in her hand than in him.

Giving up wasn’t in his nature. He didn’t survive in the field by quitting when he hit an obstacle.

Jake slid the large box down the counter, resting his arm on top of it and dipping his head to make sure she could see him. So, what do you say? Drinks later?

She studied him, her eyes flicking across his face before landing on his chest. Do they let employees ask out customers? Seems like that would be covered during training or something.

He shrugged. Hell if I know. I don’t work here.

Her mouth popped open. You don’t? She threw her arm to the side, motioning back toward the nail guns. You mean you just let me think you worked here?

You asked me for help, remember? I never said I worked here.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering, You’d think I’d get used to this feeling after the past few years.

Next? the cashier called.

His time was running out. Both with his job interview and before she paid for the nail gun and walked out of his life. Regret didn’t sit well in his soul. Not with everything he’d gone through and where he suspected his next mission would take him.

I’d really like to see you again. Find out how the project turns out with this nail gun. Help you bury the ex-boyfriend if you need it. Risking a verbal rejection or worse, he pushed another rogue strand of her hair back, his fingertips grazing the spot behind her ear. Find out more about you.

Her lips parted with a breathy sigh, her eyes darkening just a touch. Damn, she was sexy. And her scent…

It was like a breeze through a garden. Not overpowering, but subtle and soft.

Next? The cashier called again, more impatient than before and destroying the moment.

Ava stepped down the line to the cashier. Sorry, Jake. I can’t. I really don’t have time to date.

No time for dinner? I heard that was the most important meal of the day.

Dinner? Ava laughed and leaned her elbow on the box, giving him her full attention. I thought the saying was that breakfast is the day’s most important meal. I must’ve missed when it skipped lunch and went straight to dinner.

Jake grinned. I’m available for breakfast too but figured I’d have a better shot at dinner.

She scrunched her nose. Sorry. I’ll have to decline both offers. I’m not interested in a hardware store hookup, and I can’t risk the complications that come from dinner.

Fair enough. The rejection stung. Not as much as the sheer disappointment of missing out on getting to see her a little more. It was time to retreat. He’d shot his shot and would survive.

Alright. He tapped on the box and looked past her to the cashier. Make sure someone helps her out to her car with this. He gave her one last smile, readjusted his baseball cap to face forward, and winked. Goodbye, gorgeous.

The town wasn’t as small as his hometown in Virginia, but it was small enough that he might run into Ava again. And he’d try.

Again.

2

S hit!

Ava Sanderson jerked her foot out from underneath the large box, the ache immediate.

It was Jake’s fault. No question about it.

Asking her out.

Looking all sexy in his fitted black T-shirt and backward baseball cap and dimples.

Touching her. God, her skin still tingled from his fingers.

Her best friends rushed across the dining room. Are you okay? Reese crouched beside the box. What the hell did you buy?

She and Frankie picked up the box together before walking it to the closest table. Easy for them. They both wore jeans and sneakers instead of three-inch heels.

Ava might not know anything about construction, but she could damn well look the part of a successful owner for their interview today.

A nail gun and compressor? Frankie circled the box, probably reading every detail posted on the sides. The woman read instruction manuals for fun. What for?

Ava wiggled her big toe, the pain still at a level six. For the brewery. She shrugged off her pink raincoat and laid it across the stainless steel bar top. You know. To hang those pictures I can’t get to stay on the wall. I found a nail that will work. Then found the nail gun to use with it. She took off her shoe, grimacing at her sore, red toe. Seemed like a logical step.

Reese planted a hand on her hip as her amber gaze—the same color as the beer they would serve—zeroed in on Ava. But you agreed to let me hire a maintenance worker to do that for you. Remember? After those pictures you tried to hang fell down fifteen times last week? We have an interview this morning. I assume you realized that since you’re dressed like a funeral director.

Frowning, Ava looked down at her suit. I hate waiting on someone to do things when I’m competent. I’ve conducted laboratory experiments that take more brainpower than hanging pictures on the wall. I just need a bigger nail and not those wall sticky things. I took them back to the store this morning. Do I really look like a funeral director?

Did Jake think that?

No. She wouldn’t think of him. She’d declined the date for good reason.

Reese and Frankie laughed.

Ava ignored them. Whoever we hire will need tools to hang the pictures. So I bought a nail gun. It beat the shitty pink plastic hammer from the kit her mom gave her for her thirty-first birthday last week. But her mom was at least a little supportive of her decision to start a new life, unlike her dad.

Frankie flattened her hands on top of the box, her blond hair pulled up high and sloppy. Honey, I don’t think this is what you need for those pictures. Just looking at the psi rating, it’s not designed for drywall. It would be for something thicker.

I did the research. If it holds up a house, it will hold up a damn picture. And I know it will fit the nail I want to use. I had someone at the hardware store help me. So let me try before you think I’m going to screw something else up.

Frankie’s cobalt-blue eyes widened. Someone’s snippy. Wonder why?

The fight drained out of Ava. Frankie was right. The stress was getting to her. Ugh! Sorry. A guy at the hardware store kept asking me what I needed the nail gun for, and I’m just so damn tired of people assuming I don’t know what I’m doing. He pointed this one out because it fit the nail.

Jake seemed knowledgeable, even if she didn’t want to confess that she needed that big thing to hang a picture. She’d never been asked out that quickly before. Frankie got it all the time. Once, her best friend broke her toe and the x-ray tech asked her out while taking her pictures.

And Frankie had said yes.

But Frankie dated all the time.

Your magical, picture-hanging nail? Reese’s sympathetic look made her mood worse. Not all offers of help are attempts to undermine you. We’re making this work. All of us. Together. That was the deal. No one expects you to be solely responsible for this building.

Really? Does that go both ways? Do you want me in the back, helping you brew beer?

Reese smiled wider, fake as hell. You’re welcome to haul grain or clean out tanks anytime you’re bored. I’m about to rinse off the floors if you want to change out of that stuffy outfit.

Leave it to her friends to pull her head out of her own butt. But who could blame her? They opened in a month and weren’t anywhere close to being ready. That fell on her shoulders. They’d each taken on a third of the responsibility when they launched this outrageous idea. This was Ava’s third.

That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Ava surveyed the dining room and bar. But I know we need someone else around here to open on time. I can’t finish this and start working on the marketing.

As it sat, Rosalind Brewery looked terrific. Somehow, through many sleepless nights, they’d mostly pulled it together. Now they had a shit-ton of small things left on the mile-long punch list before opening day.

That included finishing the courtyard and a half dozen pictures she needed to hang. Furniture put together. Walls repainted.

Ava shook away the dread. Whoever we hire can help do the other billion items on my to-do list. Right now, I’m going to go hang those pictures. But please grab those scissors behind the counter and help me get this open. I’ll give you a first look at the instruction manual.

The front door opened, bringing inside the breeze and dampness from the nonstop September drizzle.

The world tilted.

Impossible.

You? She stepped toward the door before checking her reaction.

What the hell? Had Jake followed her? If he had, he was a damn good actor because he seemed just as surprised to see her.

Hi, Ava. He cocked his lips to the