Every inch of her, every dip and curve, is perfect.
So. Fucking. Perfect. I can’t actually believe she’s mine. For all my bravado, I am clueless as to how this incredible woman could want me.
Nipples hardening beneath my shirt, she moans into my mouth with every light touch. Still, her eyes never close, much like this morning.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been kissed. By so many different women. Yet none of them have stolen my soul the way she has with her soft smiles and timid touches. Nobody has seen me like she does—past all the rights and wrongs, virtues and sins, appearances and possessions.
Avery doesn’t care about any of the bullshit; she’s all about heart and soul. That’s what makes her special. It’s what makes her impossible to forget and so damn easy to love.
“Not even this close,” she murmurs, licking her lips as though she’s still savoring our kiss.
“Now I know you’re lying.”
“I was pleasantly distracted.”
“Really?”
“You’re kind of handsome.” She blushes, gaze meandering down between us, over my bare chest to the bulge straining against my creased shorts. “Beautiful, actually.”
“Is that all?”
“You’re intelligent.” Avery peers up at me from beneath her lashes with a coy gnaw of her lip. “And…talented.”
“Talented?”
The bashfulness that makes her even sweeter deepens the flush of her cheeks. “Yeah.”
“You mean, I’ve got a big dick and I know how to use it.” Her entire face scrunches with a pursed smile. “Come on, sweetheart, we’ve been through this. Cursing looks good on you, sounds even better when you’re beneath me…with my big cock inside you.”
“You know, for an old man with lines on his face, you sure got it going on.”
“Wait.” I pull back, feigning offense. “So, you were trying to sweeten me up!”
“Doc,” Avery rasps, reaching forward and pulling me back to her by my shorts. She swallows hard when her fingertips graze my erection. “As much as I love it when you’re sweet to me, I prefer it when you throw in some spice.”
“Look who’s being corny now,” I tease, kissing the tip of her nose while I hand her the coffee. “Call it for what it is, sunshine, you like it when I fuck you with my impressive, talented dick.”
With a shake of her head and a bashful upturn of her lips, she looks down at her lap as though collecting herself before peering back up at me. “How about you make me breakfast like you said you would?”
It’s a perplexing feeling the way in which my heart tries to run away with itself every time she looks at me. Whenever she talks or laughs or simply breathes in my direction. I knew I was falling for her; I just didn’t know how fast and far it would go. Unlike anything I’ve ever felt, this hunger and need for her is never-ending. It intensifies with every passing second, leaving me completely at her mercy.
Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I check it for an update on breakfast. “I told you I would feed you breakfast, not that I would make it. Besides, why would I spend time on food, when I can spend time getting you all dirty before we get cleaned up?”
Avery almost gags on the mouthful of coffee she’s swallowing down.
“You’re incorrigible,” she chuckles when I pluck her off the counter and onto her feet, but after another gulp of her coffee, she heads straight for the stairs.
We’re almost to the bedroom when the sound of the cowbell Jo has in lieu of an actual doorbell gives us pause. Last check-in, Charlie and the girls were still on their way to the bakery Avery loves in town.
“We should get that before it disturbs Jo,” Avery sighs with evident disappointment in her eyes.
“I’ll get the door and you can get naked.” Taking her into the bedroom, I lift her up with a kiss before throwing her on the bed to the sound of her laughter. “You don’t get to eat breakfast until I’ve—”
The sound of the bell mutes me, and before I can finish, my shirt—smelling of me, Avery, and sex—flies up at me.
“I’m naked,” Avery croaks with an audible swallow.
Her pert tits tremble with every breath that pulls her slender body tight. I’m about to ignore whoever is at the door and dive at her when the bell goes again.
“Motherfucker!”
Laughing at my curse, she pulls a mussed sheet over her. “Does it help if I cover up?”
“Does it look like it helps?” I glance down at my painful erection before pulling on my shirt. “Tease me all you like, sweetheart, but when I come back…you better be ready.”
Yeah, she’s got it right to hold her breath because she’s going to get all the fucking spice and more.
I’m walking out of the room when she calls me. “Doc…”
Turning to look back, I pause, trying to hold the groan that escapes me at the sight of her sprawled across the width of the bed on her belly, legs kicking out the end as she peers at me over her shoulder, her round ass in full view as she blows me a kiss.
“Hurry,” she murmurs with a bite of her lip and a purposeful glance down to my pulsing cock.
I’ve never moved so fast in my entire life. Taking two steps down at a time, I come to a stop behind Jo.
“I don’t care who you are, you can get the fuck off my property,” she spits at the two men standing on the porch.
One of them is holding out his badge. An official FBI photocard is slotted over it. The fear of losing Avery and Iris is a hot knife through butter cutting through me. It makes no apparent sense to feel the way I do, but I know that this is the beginning of something that’s going to hurt Avery. I know that those barriers she’s relaxed are going to come right back up, and it kills me to think that she’ll pull away from me.
“Jo.” I try to calm her as I stand beside her. “I got this.”
“You ain’t got shit,” she snaps back defensively. I’m not the only one scared to shit of the fallout of this turn of events. “This is my house…my land, and I don’t want them here. Now, get!”
“We just need to talk to Mrs. Henderson for a minute.” The taller agent standing behind the one with the badge addresses me.
“Avery,” I correct him, gritting her name out to the overwhelming churn of my gut at the use of her married name. It’s wrong. She’s not Mrs. Henderson; she’s mine. “What do you want with Avery?” I make sure to use her name again so he gets the message.
“We need to go over some information. Protocol.”
The shorter guy is looking into the house nervously at the sound of Ship’s distinctive low growl. The fact that he doesn’t trust them sets me even more on edge.
“Is Mrs. Henderson here?” the stubby asshole asks, puffing up like that’s meant to make me step out of his way.
I’m twice his height, and I’m pretty certain that beneath his oversized suit jacket, there’s even less of him. The guy is the very definition of dweeb, and he wants to make up for it with hot air and a power trip. Not going to happen on my watch where Avery is concerned.
“We only want to ask a few questions and we’ll be out of your hair.” The taller guy steps forward, clearly playing the good cop card with his softer tone.
Trouble is good cop, bad cop won’t work on me. I’m used to that shit with Mark and Charlie. It’s how they parent their kids, and I’m no kid to fall for their bullshit. At the same time, I know there’s nothing I can do to stop them from talking to Avery. If I’m honest with myself, I knew this was coming, and if we send them away today, they’ll keep coming here. They’re not going to give up because I want to protect her from more hurt, more mess.
“No,” Jo yells, stomping her cane loudly on the wooden floor at the same time as I tell them, “Wait here.”
Closing the door, I take a deep breath, trying to ground myself for Jo’s reproof.
“I can’t believe I thought you would do the right thing by her,” she barks at me the minute the door is closed. “I told you t
o fight. Why is it so hard for you? Why can’t you do the right thing?”
“I am doing the right thing.” Even if it goes against every cell of my being. “They’re not going to leave until they’ve talked to her. Maybe they’ll drive away today, but tomorrow they’ll be back, and it will be worse because Iris will be here. Or maybe they’ll corner her somewhere else on her own. Is that what you want? To have them pounce on her when she’s alone and vulnerable?”
Pursing her mouth, she growls before heading to the kitchen, adding, “They don’t come into my house.”
“Jo…Avery can’t talk to them out there.”
“Talk to who?” Both Jo and I turn to look at the stairs where Avery is standing.
She’s in one of her loose, oversized T-shirts with the hem of her shorts peeking from beneath the hem.
“What’s going on?”
“Go on,” Jo grumbles. “Do the right thing, then. Feed her to the wolves.”
“For once in your life,” I snap, pissed at her derision even though I know it’s coming from a good place, “don’t be callous.”
“I’m trying to protect her…to protect you.” She wells up when she looks at Avery.
“You’re being stubborn and difficult, and it’s not going to help the situation.”
“Can someone tell me what is going on? I’m standing right here—you can talk to me rather than about me.” Avery comes down the last couple of steps, pausing in front of me with a confused and cross frown. “Garrett?”
“The FBI are here.”
Nodding, she takes a knowing breath as though this isn’t news. Like me, she knew this was coming, and although it’s obvious that she’s stifled by the realization, she stands taller, cracking a small smile as she comes closer.
“I’m surprised it took them this long.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
AVERY
How many times do you have to tell a person you don’t know the answer to any of their questions before they start believing you?
“Come on, Mrs. Henderson, you can’t possibly expect us to believe that you are oblivious to everything we’ve asked.”
Every time they call me by my married name, I feel sick to the pit of my stomach. This entire conversation is sickening.
“You must understand how it looks for you to have filed for divorce so soon after the investigation was outed.”
“Wouldn’t you file for divorce if your…significant other was being unfaithful to you?” Glancing down from the agent’s dark eyes, I focus on his wedding ring. “Surely if you know about the filing, you are also aware of the circumstances?”
“Yes, we are.” The quieter of the two blows out a breath.
“Then you realize that your guised suggestion about how it looks doesn’t make sense.”
“Mrs. Hend—”
“Please stop calling me that,” I ask, trying to stop my voice from rattling along with my insides. “You can call me Avery, or if you insist on carrying on with formalities, you can call me Miss Summers.”
Using my father’s name makes me sad. It’s a painful shock that highlights the fact that he’s gone. Like picking a scab, it leaves me raw, and my heart aches with a dull pain that lingers.
“Of course, Miss Summers,” the talkative one scoffs as though something about my name or the situation is funny. “I met your father once,” he tells me nonchalantly. “Everybody loved him.”
“He was a good man.”
“I’ve never read an obituary quite like his.”
Staring between the two of them, I’m left with a vacuum in the middle of my chest. It’s taking everything to hold myself together.
“If you think that you can rattle me by talking about my father, you are wrong. It might hurt, but it won’t make me tell you something I don’t know. You are wasting your time with me.”
“Your husband.” The smaller of the two raps his knuckles on the table. He’s an asshole, and he knows it. In fact, I bet he thinks it’s his best attribute with the way he’s grinning when I glare at him. “It must sting that he was the last person to see your father.”
A lead weight settles at the pit of my belly, churning and churning and churning at the statement. It takes me a second too long to recompose myself because the grin broadens as he leans back in the rattan seat opposite me.
What an odious man. The fact that he is enjoying this…
“I’ve answered all your questions as best as I can.” I stand and try to shake off the anger so that I don’t fall to pieces in front of them. “I would like you to leave now.”
No sooner have I said the words than Charlie’s car comes into view. My insides twist at the thought that Iris is going to know why they’re here. I’m not even sure why it matters—it’s not as though I’ve done anything wrong or as if I’m hiding something. But my anxiety ratchets up a notch or two, and I start coming over clammy. Hot and cold sweats fluster through my body as my heart picks up its pace.
“Thank you for your time, Miss Summers.” The tall one stands, towering over me in a way that makes me cower away slightly.
Backing away, he nods at me with a small tip of his mouth while the shorter man edges closer. With a narrowed stare, he pauses right in front of me. “Yes, thank you for your time.”
“I don’t know anything,” I tell him again.
The agent scoffs without tearing his gaze from me. I shouldn’t have said anything else; I should’ve stayed quiet so that they would go. However, I’m flustered by his revelation about my father and Carl. He’s rattled me.
“I’ve heard that before.” He lifts his chin so that he can better look down on me since we’re about the same height.
“If you think of anything that might be useful”—his partner holds out his card—“please call me.”
When I don’t take it, he puts it down on the small glass-topped rattan coffee table before they both head back to their black Suburban.
“You doing okay?” Garrett asks, rounding the front porch to the side of the house where I’m still standing.
All I can do is look at him and nod. I don’t want to lie to him and tell him that I’m struggling to make the world stop spinning around me. I also don’t want him to think that I can’t handle things on my own. Getting him to hold back and stay inside while I spoke to the agents was hard enough.
“Deep breath, sweetheart,” he murmurs into my hair while folding me into him. “You got this, and I got you.”
Garrett isn’t wrong—he does have me. He has more of me than anyone has ever possessed, and the scary thing is that it feels safe with him. The more I know of him, the more my heart yearns to belong to him completely. Sometimes it’s as though it only beats when he’s near me. As if it beats for him.
Burrowing deeper into his chest, I press my ear over his thrumming heart. The small hitch as I slip my hands beneath the hem of his shirt and slip them around to his back so that I can hold on to him makes me smile. Then it jolts, thundering harder and faster. It makes all the tension ebb away as I inhale deeply at the knowledge that Garrett Dixon’s heart beats for me, as surely, wholly, and solely as mine does for him.
“Leave it with me,” Charlie tells me, getting in her car to the sound of the kids fighting over who gets to sit in the front with her.
It’s getting dark, and the light from the porch and her headlights are the only things illuminating our surroundings.
“It doesn’t make sense that they would bring Robert up, but the feds are assholes like that. Who the fuck knows which angle they’re trying to play?”
“Why did they wait so long to talk to me?”
“My guess is that they wanted to catch you off guard. It makes it easier to get answers.” After relegating both of the kids to the back, she gets in her SUV. “Don’t stress over it, I’m on it.”
“Thanks.”
“In the meantime, Gretch wants to talk to you about an injunction to help speed things along with the custody and divorce filings.”
> “What if it makes things worse?”
“Like I told you at dinner, it’s no coincidence that Carl has shown up here with the feds following. I don’t know what is going on there, but from my experience, I would say there’s a bigger game we haven’t been invited to. Leave it with me.”
“Okay,” I tell her as Iris comes running around the side of the house with Garrett chasing after her.
The two of them are laughing so loud and freely that it’s contagious. Even the dogs are jumping around to their excitement.
“I’ll see you at the school Monday morning. We can grab coffee with Gretch and talk everything through. If I get anything, we can talk it over Monday too.”
“Sounds good,” I manage to say as Iris yells at Makenna that she’s camping with Doc.
Charlie heads off once Garrett manages to throw Iris over his shoulder and goes inside. By the time I’ve wandered in, the couches are a few blankets and cushions short, and Jo is laughing at the two of them running out of the back door.
“I don’t know who’s the bigger kid?” she muses, patting the seat beside her. “I want to talk to you about something.”
There’s a serious shift in her demeanor that makes me wary of what’s coming. When I’ve sat beside her, she takes my hand and clasps it between both of her trembling ones.
“I owe you an apology,” Jo murmurs sheepishly into our tangled hands. “Sometimes I forget how strong you are, and I don’t mean nothing by it.”
“I know, and if my mom were here, she would react exactly as you did. If anything, it’s comforting that you are so similar.”
“I’m stubborn, but you’re brave and beautiful, and it’s so hard not to protect you.” I notice the way her tremble worsens as she gets emotional followed by the twitch of her mouth.
Every day there seems to be a new symptom or the deterioration of another. Jo’s getting sullen too which makes me worry that like Mom she’s getting sicker too quickly. In the short time we’ve known each other, she’s become an intrinsic part of our new family. Oddly, it’s as though Iris and I have found ourselves an actual family rather than just people tied to us by DNA or contracts.
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