He is infuriating, bossy, arrogant, and a complete and total ass.
I am sitting in the back seat of his white Chevy, crammed between two car seats, because he had a crazy-eyed look I have never seen him don, and I was afraid of what would come out of his mouth if I fought him after he had the balls to tell Casey that my ass—and yes, he said ass—would fit better between the seats.
I’m embarrassed for him and because of him. Embarrassed to the point I am rendered speechless, and I am Ava fucking Links—I don’t do speechless.
Chance is babbling, and Hope is just staring at me. My poor girl is way off her norm, and that helpless look makes me feel it deeply. I feel it with her.
I know it’s just teething. I know it is. And she...They both have been through so much more, so much worse.
Whoever said being a mother is easy was insane. It comes naturally? Maybe parts of it, like the whole your tits are now feeding equipment. Then there is waking up at the butt crack of dawn, and your days of sleeping in until noon on a weekend are over. Yeah, that’s now just a fond memory. But easy? Hell no.
Take away the situation, the whole “Who’s your daddy?” conundrum from the madness going on around me with GI Jackass, and I’m surprised I am wearing pants.
“Isn’t that right, Ava?”
I heard his voice, but I have no clue what the hell he just said.
“Sorry, what?”
“Your father is coming in just a couple of days,” Luke clarifies, cocking his eyebrow.
Shit, shit, shit, shit!
I look back up at him, and he gives me a look that seems to say, “Figure that one out, Ava.” When I glare at him, he pulls his shades out of some compartment above the console, throws them on, and shrugs.
“He is. And Casey”—I wait until she looks back at me— “he doesn’t know Luke is here.”
Casey nods as if she understands, but she so doesn’t. Nevertheless, that’s just another reason I love her. She has my back.
“Maybe Casey should take off for a few days, too; give you and your family some time with the kids.”
“Or maybe she can stay,” I disagree, trying not to sound snippy.
He doesn’t say shit; he just turns up the music.
Ugh, country.
I lean back in the comfy seat and close my eyes, wishing I could poke my eardrums out. Seriously, this freaking music...Ugh.
“I wanna be the kind of man she sees in her dreams. God, I wanna be your man, and I wanna be her man. God, I only hope that she still believes in the man I wanna be.”
I am happy. Well, not happy, but relieved that the next song isn’t so damn offensive to my ears.
The woman sings, “Little miss, do your best. Little miss, do your best. Little miss, be my guest. I’ll make more anytime it runs out. Little miss, you’ll go far. Little miss, hide your scars.”
I open my eyes to see Luke smirking in the rear view mirror. He nods toward the radio, and I shake my head and roll my eyes.
“Sometimes, you gotta lose until you win. It’s all right. It’s all right. It’ll be all right again.”
Luke used to be more of a metal guy, not this...this...sappy-ass music.
I look at Chance. “You’ll love pop and rock; I swear it.”
***
Two days later...
They are growing like crazy, healthy as any baby can be, and they deserve it. They so deserve it after going through so much.
I stand at the foot of their cribs, watching them sleep. Thankfully, Luke has slipped back into the jackass I thought I loved in the past—okay, I did love. And now after T and even after...him this past week, I have no idea what I was thinking back then. Well, I get it, but, oh my, how things have changed.
It has been almost eleven months from the day he wrecked me, and then T changed everything I thought I knew about love. Months later, my children proved to me that love is so much more than that of a man and a woman. It is so much more than I could ever imagine.
“Hey.”
I look up at Luke as he walks up to me with no cane, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and worry clear on his face.
“I’m not pissed, Luke. Just be nice.”
“Not trying to piss you off, Ava, but I’m not nice to people who don’t deserve nice.”
My head whips around, and I point at the door, conveying to him that I don’t want this conversation taking place in the babies’ room. He doesn’t move, so I do, knowing he will follow. But he doesn’t. He’s in there for quite a while before he comes out. By that point, I am pacing in front of the bedroom door, waiting for him.
He stalks toward me as if he hasn’t been limping for days. He looks angry. He looks...Oh, damn.
I hold my hand up to stop him, except he doesn’t stop, and my hand hits his chest. He reaches behind me and opens T and my bedroom door, stepping forward and forcing me backward into the room.
I am at a loss for words, which would make any mother who ever told their children “If you have nothing to say, don’t say anything at all” proud.
He pushes the door shut behind him and stares at me, face all lines and angles, his eyes blasting their bluest.
“Ava.” He shakes his head. “You trust me?”
“I guess,” I croak out.
“No, it’s a yes or no answer. You trust me or you don’t.”
“Are you having a...spell, or a—”
“Ava,” he growls. “Do you trust me?”
I take a deep breath, hoping somewhere in this room that seems to be getting smaller and smaller is my...sass.
“Fine, I’ll play. Yes, Luke Lane, I, Ava Links, trust—”
He captures the back of my neck with one hand, and places his other hand flat on my back, pulling me toward him. And his lips, I swear they bruise mine.
He plunges his tongue deep, deeper...Oh, damn. Damn you, Luke. Then he slides his hand up until it’s in my hair, and he turns my head, controlling the kiss.
When I am sure he has fucked my soul by way of our mouths and that I am going to die because I can hardly breathe, he pulls away. Only then do I realize I am against a wall and that my hands have found their spot, like it’s a habit, linked behind his neck.
“She can’t be here, Ava,” he whispers softly, pushing his forehead against mine.
“Okay,” I say without thinking, slowly opening my eyes.
“I’ll tell her now. She’s done.”
“Wait, what?” I gasp, releasing him.
“You can tell her, but you’ll do it with me in the room.”
I slam both hands against his chest. “Get, go, and no! She stays. You need to be out by five tomorrow morning.”
“Ava, you trust me. You said—”
“This is because Thomas trusted her. This is because you’re jealous—”
“I should kiss you to shut you up, but then I’ll end up fucking you, and you’ll think it’s because this was his and your room, and that’s not fucking so.”
“Don’t you—”
“That’s him, Ava, not me. She goes. She goes, or I’m staying.”
“You wouldn’t,” I gasp.
“No?” He crosses his arms over his chest, and I swear he flexes his...boy boobs, and it pisses me off.
“I will never forgive you if you do that to me,” I tell him, putting my hands on my hips.
“You will. It’ll just take a while.” His eyes dart from my eyes to my lips and back again.
“Stop looking at me like that!”
“Like what?” he asks, as if he’s not looking at me like...that.
“Like you want to fuck me.”
He smirks and shakes his head. “Oh, I want to, but you’ll have to beg first.”
“You have a better chance of seeing God.”
He looks at my boobs and sighs.
“Don’t look at those, either, Luke.”
He points. “But—”
“But nothing.” I slap his hand away.
He smirks. Then he holds back a laugh.
“Oh, ha, ha, ha,” I mock.
“Ava.” He points again.
“Oh, for God’s sake, they’re boobs, Luke, and you have never been a boob man.”
“But, Ava, they’re...leaking.”
I look down, mortified. I feel my face burn so bright the people across the river can probably see it.
“It’s—”
“Get out!” I snap. “Get. Out.”