I search for the words I found in the gym and on the way to the bedroom only moments ago. No words. I’m blank. So, at a loss, I smile, and she blinks, her confusion multiplying. “I woke up with you in my bed wearing lace.”Though I was in no fit state to appreciate it.“It’s ten thirty on a Sunday morning and you’re in my kitchen”—I force my eyes down her front—“wearing lace. I’m amazing.”And so fucking torn.
Her smile is demure. “You are?”
“Oh, I am.” I kiss her. Try to relocate some fortitude. Restock on bravery. “You’re too beautiful, lady.”
“So are you.”
I gaze at her longingly and push a strand of hair away from her cheek. “Kiss me.” She needs to feed me with some strength because I need it. And so will she.
Her lips on mine are life, and I lose myself in her adoring kiss, happy to follow her lead. Slow. She wants it slow and loving. It’s the most peaceful kiss we’ve shared, which is ironic in this moment, when I’m feeling a heightened sense of panic.
My phone rings, and I curse the caller to hell, feeling on the worktop, unprepared to end this exquisite kiss. “Oh, go away,” I mutter into her mouth, staring at John’s name on the screen over Ava’s shoulder. “Baby, I’ve got to take this.” I tear my mouth from hers but remain with my hips cradled between her legs. “What’s up, John?”
“Mike’s here,” he says, sounding pissed off.
Fuck. “What’s he doing there?” I watch as Ava watches me, her curiosity back. I kiss her frown away.
“He wants to talk. Sort it out with you. He’s calm.” John clears his throat, and I hear a door close in the background. “But I’ll send him away if that’s what you want.”
Is this an opportunity I shouldn’t miss? The Manor is quiet on a Sunday morning. I’ll take Ava with me. Let her eat breakfast while I talk to Mike and then show her upstairs. Show her that it is nothing like she will imagine. “No, I’ll be there,” I say quietly.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Good. It’s about time this was sorted out like men.”
“See you in a bit.” I end the call and get on with sorting my fucking life out. “I need to go to The Manor,” I tell her. “You’ll come.”Ask, you dick, don’t demand.
“No,” she blurts, looking horrified.
“But I want you to come.”
Her eyes dart around the kitchen. She looks stressed. “You’ll be working. You do what you need to do, and I’ll see you afterward.”
She’s missing the point completely, which shouldn’t be a surprise since she doesn’t know what the fucking point is. “No, you’ll come.” Shehasto come. It’s time. This half-life ends today.
Ava moves to escape, and I instinctively lock her down. “I’m not coming.”
“Why?”
“Just because,” she shouts.
I have no idea why she’s being so obstructive, but I’m sane enough to realize that putting my foot down right now won’t help.
It’s time to beg. Plead. “Please, Ava,” I say, giving her beseeching eyes. “Will you just do what you’re told?”Just for once, please?
“No!”
I close my eyes and count to ten to keep my temper in check. “Ava, why do you insist on making things more difficult?”
“I make things more difficult?”
I’m trying to fucking help. To enlighten her. Prepare to give her information she desperately wants. “Yes, you do,” I grate, my voice shaking with my building frustration. “I’m trying really hard here.”
She snorts. It’s an insult. “Trying hard to do what?” she asks, genuinely interested in what my answer might be. “Send me crazy? It’s working.” She knocks me out of the way, and knowing she’ll fight me if I resist, I let her go, unwilling to get caught up in a physical tangle as well as a verbal one.
I sigh. “Well, this is going well,” I mutter, going after her, accepting I have only one choice here if I want the outcome I’m wishing for. Let her win.