Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
“Where did you come from?” she asks, looking up at me.
Ah.
Umm . . . “I . . .”
“You followed me, didn’t you?” she asks over a gasp, her body tensing.
I have no other choice but to step into defense mode. “And it’s a good job.” God knows what that creep would have done if I’d not intervened. “Where’s Kate?” Just as I ask the question, she appears, asking what’s going on.
Can’t she hear the fucking horns? Keep your cool. We’ll be dealing with the van matter later. “I think you need to move your van, Kate.”
She looks up the street, her shoulders jumping up, as if she really couldn’t give a shit that she’s holding up London with her heap-of-crap van. “Oh, okay.”
I shake my head, pulling away from Ava and checking her over. Her feet are bare. “Where are your shoes?”
She brushes at her nose. “They’re in the back of Margo,” she says, motioning to the pink van. I frown. Margo? “The van,” she explains.
Margo’s a van? I’ve heard it all. Well, she’d better say goodbye to Margo because she isn’t going to be around for much longer. I dip and scoop Ava up, taking her to a wall and placing her on it. “I’m not even going to ask how they got there,” I say, convincing myself, wisely, not to add to my grievances.
“I’ll get them,” Kate declares, and a few seconds later she’s handing Ava her heels. I focus on those and those alone. They’re very nice heels. Would look lovely around my neck.
I leave Ava slipping them on and go to the van, yanking the door open. “What the fucking hell?” I say, taking in the mess inside. It’s filthy, magazines and coffee cups everywhere. This thing is ready for the scrapyard, which is exactly where it’s heading. I drag Ava’s bag off the seat and make my way back over, seeing the girls talking quietly. What are they saying? My man brain wants to know, but they both shut up as I near, Kate looking cautious. I can only imagine my face is still burning red.
“Kate, you need to shift that van before war breaks out,” I say as Ava gets to her feet, wincing. I frown. “I’m taking Ava with me.”
“You are?” Ava asks, sounding shocked.
“Yes, I am.” She shouldn’t defy me on this. It seems I’ve got a temper where she’s concerned, and I’m not afraid to use it.
Kate smiles, moving in and kissing Ava before sauntering off. I can’t find it in myself to say goodbye or even look at her. I’m too busy wondering why the fuck Ava winced when her arse met the wall.
“Why are you flinching?” I ask brusquely as she stands again. And winces again.
“My backside hurts.” She claims her bag. “I was holding Kate’s cake up in the back of Margo.”
The back of the van? Wait. “You didn’t have a seatbelt on?”
“No.” Her eyeballs roll into the back of her head in an epic display of mockery. “You don’t get seatbelts in the backs of vans, Jesse.”
For fuck’s sake. Reckless and sarcastic. Neither suit her. I growl and pick her up, mentally lining up a very stern conversation about safety and cynicism as I head back to my car. She doesn’t argue or insist on walking. Good. I’ve had enough of being pissed off today. Now? Now I just want to lose myself in her. And I can’t. I fucking can’t, which means any chances I had of not being pissed off for the rest of today have gone up in smoke.
Ava’s head meets my shoulder, and she clings on, her entire being relaxing in my arms. God, I would carry her anywhere she wanted to go. I needed this. Her acceptance of my presence. Her.
My heart is back to beating steady and strong. “You didn’t call me. I told you to call.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“What are you sorry for?” I feel her curious eyes lift to my face.
“For not being here sooner,” I say quietly. “Don’t do stupid shit, Ava. And call when I tell you to.” I sound petulant. It’s unstoppable. But if this relationship is going to work, someone needs to be reasonable.
And it isn’t me.
Instinct told me to insist she spent Saturday with me. Instinct told me to call her yesterday. Instinct told me to call her today. Instinct told me to intercept her outside her office before she got in that fucking van. Fuck the cock in the Merc. He better hope he doesn’t meet me in a dark alley. If I had done any of those things, she wouldn’t have been roughed up by that bald prick. The course of events leading to that moment would have changed. She wouldn’t have been so distressed. She wouldn’t have felt pain when he grabbed her. She wouldn’t have sustained a barrage of abuse. And I wouldn’t have had a million heart attacks.