by Dahlia West
It wasn’t fair to him, especially since if Emilio knew the truth, he’d never want to be with her. She needed him, though. He was the only light she could see.
She took one last look as she crept out of the bedroom door. In the living room, she slipped the chain off the lock and took off down the stairs. Daisy was out on her porch again. “Another late night!” she said.
Ava waved because she couldn’t exactly disappear from sight. As she pulled on her helmet, Daisy called out, “See you this afternoon!”
Puzzled, Ava had to take a moment to consider the woman’s words.
Crap. The wedding. It was today! She’d been so caught up in not being caught that she’d flaked on the date. She nodded to Daisy, brought her Honda to life, and spun out of the driveway as though her hair were on fire.
Ava rocketed across town toward home. It was early and the wedding wasn’t until two but Calla and Zoey needed so much help and Ava didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with her two newest family members.
When she arrived at home, she bolted into the house to find Adam in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand. Calla exploded from the dining room, brushed past Ava, and shot down the hall toward the bedrooms. Or so Ava thought. Instead, Calla disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly.
“Is she okay?” Ava asked Adam, depositing her helmet on the couch.
“Nerves,” he said, taking another sip. “There’s a thing with the cake.”
“What thing?”
“Right cake, wrong church.”
“Oh, no!”
Adam shrugged. “It’s fixed now. They’re bringing it to us. So long as no one ate any of it.”
Ava took the carafe from the coffee maker but paused while pouring herself a cup. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning,” she told Adam. “Who gets married at eight o’clock in the morning?”
From behind her, Pop said, “Catholics! Married and buried in the morning.” He flopped on the couch and searched for the remote.
Ava raised an eyebrow at Adam. “Is that true?”
Adam shrugged again. “Might just be a Pop-ism. I don’t think we know any Catholics.”
“Knew a Flanagan once,” Pop called over his shoulder. “Met him in the service. He drummed out, though.” He grunted. “Weak constitution. Too much fish,” he declared. “Not enough red meat.”
Ava looked at Adam. “Is he allowed to say that?” she asked quietly.
Adam pursed his lips. “Guess it depends on who he’s talking to. Pop. Pop! Is Flanagan invited to the wedding?”
Pop grunted. “He’s dead. Died about ten years back, or so I heard.”
Adam considered this at length. “Mercury poisoning?”
The old man glared at him. “Smartass.”
Calla emerged from the bathroom looking a little green around the gills.
Pop made a sympathetic noise when he saw her. “It’s all right, Calla. I’m sure the Catholics didn’t eat the cake.
“Unless it was made of fish,” Adam interjected.
Calla glared at him.
Ava groaned. “You’re not helping.”
“No, you’re not,” Calla snapped.
Ava looked at the two of them. “Are you supposed to see each other before the wedding?”
Adam snorted. “Kiddo, I’ve seen all of her, and then some. Why do you think I’m marrying her?”
Calla made a frustrated noise in her throat and stomped into the kitchen. Instead of arguing with Adam, she grabbed Ava by the wrist. “We’re going to the hairdresser,” she called out. “You need to get to the church by noon for pictures.”
Adam took another sip of his coffee. “I’ll do my best. Waiting on a delivery, though.”
Calla furrowed her brow at him. “They’re not bringing the cake here!” she informed him. “They’re taking it to the church!”
Adam hesitated. “Right,” he replied. “Okay.”
Calla sighed and dragged Ava toward the door.
“I can tape his mouth shut,” Ava offered. “All he really has to do is nod for the vows, right?”
Calla tossed a sharp look back over her shoulder at her fiancé. “Keep the tape handy,” she told Ava. “Church, noon!”
Pop saluted as they walked out the door.
Inside Calla’s Mustang, it took two tries before she even got the keys into the ignition. Ava assumed she was either nervous or pissed at Adam, or both. “I can drive,” she offered.
Calla gave her a dubious look.
Ava smiled. “I’ll even keep it under the speed limit.”
Safely ensconced behind the wheel, Ava pulled off from the curb extra slowly and turned on the blinker well before the intersection ahead of them. “Don’t be mad at Adam,” she told Calla. “He just sees you running around, getting upset, and he does the opposite. To keep things—I don’t know—on an even keel, I guess. I think it’s because he’s taken care of us for so long.”
Her soon-to-be older sister sighed and closed her eyes. “I know. I’m not mad. I know who he is. That’s why we’re here. It’s just... a lot,” she admitted.
Ava snorted. “Well, yeah. Two weddings? That’s crazy. I mean, not that it’s not cool,” she quickly corrected. “But it’s like, twice the work.”
“Eh,” Calla said, surprising her. “It’s just one cake, one florist, one photographer. It’s better this way, anyway. Saves money.”
A pang of guilt hit Ava in the gut. All this time she’d been racing, saving money to go on a trip. It had never even occurred to her that her family might need that money. There she was, being herself again.
Ava tightened her fingers on the steering wheel. “Do... do you need money?” The image of bricks of cash being stashed in a backpack for her to deliver across town flashed in her mind.
How did the Starks always seem to have too little money while assholes like the Buzzards were swimming in it?”
Calla opened her eyes and turned to look at her. Her features arranged themselves into an expression Ava had seen many times before. Calla’s high school guidance counselor face. Her reassuring face. Her The-Adults-Will-Take-Care-of-Everything Face. “No,” she said gently, patting Ava’s arm. “We’re fine. The shop’s doing well, actually. We just don’t need to waste money on two separate weddings, that’s all.” She smiled. “We’re a family, Ava. We’re in this together.”
Ava nodded, though she didn’t return the sentiment. They were a family. Which was why Ava was determined to protect them from the shitty choices she’d made, from the encroaching darkness. She wouldn’t bring them into it, wouldn’t taint them by their association with her.
She’d handle it. The way Adam always did. So that they didn’t have to.
The church parking lot was filling up fast as Ava watched from the sidewalk. It made sense. Double the wedding meant double the guests. She recognized faces, from other services, from the neighborhood. The names didn’t always click. As Shooter Sullivan stepped out of a large Ford truck, Ava suddenly realized she’d never mentioned the wedding to Emilio.
She’d snuck out before he’d awoken. Though that wasn’t much of a reason. A wedding date seemed hokey, especially after what they’d done in his bed last night. She’d have been embarrassed to ask, even if he had been awake.
They had never really been on a date, now that she thought about it. She wasn’t sure why she even cared, but for some reason part of her did. Or maybe she just wanted an excuse to see him again.
She turned away from the lot and walked to a tree that shaded most of the sidewalk. Relishing the cool reprieve from the summer sun, she touched the screen of her phone and dialed Emilio’s number. They could go for a ride tonight. Maybe even a movie. It couldn’t hurt to ask him if he was busy. She tried not to think about how she’d feel if he turned her down.
As she brought it to her ear, she heard ringing behind her, as well. She turned and was surprised to find him standing behind her, just a few feet away. He actually pluck
ed his phone out of his suit’s jacket and answered it.
Ava tried not to grin at his antics.
“Hello?” he said in a long drawl.
Ava shook her head at him, suppressing a grin. “Um, my brothers are getting married,” she informed him. “Both of them.”
Emilio raised an eyebrow at her. “You don’t say? Well, that sounds like fun.”
She cleared her throat and tried not to make eye contact with the other wedding guests who were skirting past them on the sidewalk. A few of them giggled. Ava ignored them. “The wedding is today, actually,” she said into her phone. “Do you want to come?”
He sighed dramatically and Ava rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t know,” he said teasingly. “Such short notice. I may not have a thing to wear.”
Emilio stood in front of her, six feet tall in his leather dress shoes. His dark, tousled hair matched his suit, which was fitted with the cuffs and pant-leg hems tailored, no less. He looked like a GQ-cover-model.
And me without any baby oil, she thought to herself.
She wrinkled her nose as she realized what she must look like standing next to him. “I have to wear a bridesmaid’s dress,” she told him. “It’s not horrible, thank God. But it is pink. I’m sure I look ridiculous.”
In front of her, Emilio’s jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed at her. She saw his fingers flex, tightening up on his phone. She had a flash of them inside her, bringing her to her own personal finish line.
Damn, it was hot outside today.
“That’s not the word I’d use,” he said quietly.
“Well, what—”
He dropped the phone (and the pretense) and crossed the short distance between them. Before Ava could even hang up her own phone, Emilio snaked an arm around her waist and swept her into a kiss. On her heels she was almost, but not quite, his height.
Beside them, someone cleared their throat loudly.
Ava blushed to find Shooter Sullivan and his wife walking past them. Shooter gave Emilio an admonishing look.
Emilio grinned but dutifully stepped away. His hand stayed at the small of Ava’s back, though, as they turned toward the church.
Shooter’s wife glanced back over her shoulder and smiled broadly at Ava, making her feel better about having caused a scene.
“I’m crashing,” Emilio admitted as they climbed the steps. “My name wasn’t on the actual invitation.”
“I’m glad you came anyway,” she said. And it was true.
On her way up the steps, her heel dragged on a chip in the concrete. She stumbled toward Emilio and ended up leaning against him for support. “Sorry,” she mumbled, slightly embarrassed. “It’s the shoes.”
“Sure it is,” he replied cockily.
She gaped at him. “It is!” she insisted. “They’re heels.”
He just smiled at her. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll tell everyone that’s what it is.”
Ava smacked his arm.
He dodged and laughed. “Just saying. I look dead-sexy in this suit. I have a mirror at home. Oh wait,” he whispered with a grin, “you already know that. You’ve seen it yourself.”
She blushed furiously as they stepped into the air-conditioned lobby. Off to the right were the bathrooms and the changing room door. Reluctantly, she broke away from Emilio and stepped out of the flow of guests entering the sanctuary.
“I have to walk down the aisle,” she told him.
“With who?” he asked. “Calla’s hot cousin from out-of-town? Six foot tall cowboy with dimples and blue eyes?”
Ava rolled her eyes but smiled. “With Jonah.”
Emilio’s eyes twinkled good-naturedly in response. “Good. I don’t want to get blood on my tie,” he said as he straightened it.
Jonah appeared, also straightening his tie. He gave a grunt and a sharp nod to Emilio, who did the same.
She smirked at the two of them. “Guess that’s what passes for a greeting between Great Apes.”
Emilio chuckled, but Jonah remained silent. As usual.
“There’ll be cake in the basement. After the ceremony,” Ava told Emilio. “Are you staying?”
His eyes twinkled again. “When a beautiful woman offers me cake, I don’t turn it down. Right, Jonah?”
Jonah said nothing.
Emilio shrugged. “Okay, maybe you do.”
“I’ll find you after the service,” Ava called out as Emilio headed toward the double doors.
He turned back slightly and caught her gaze. “No, muñeca, I’ll find you.”
As the doors closed behind him, Jonah said, “I don’t know if I like him.”
Ava snorted. “Is there someone you do like?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she headed for the changing-room door. She knocked first, and opened it just a crack, in case any future Starks were... well... stark.
Calla and Zoey were ready, both decked out in simple yet beautiful gowns that draped to their ankles. Their dresses didn’t match but they were similar enough not to clash. Both women had their dark hair pinned up. Strangers would mistake them for sisters. An hour from now, Ava realized, they would be.
She smiled. She liked that her family was growing, not shrinking.
It seemed that Calla and Zoey already had the sister thing down pat. Instead of primping each other or sharing lipstick, they were on the other side of the room, near the window. They were whispering fiercely at each other, backs to the door.
When Ava stepped in, they immediately quieted and turned toward her. Calla’s face was red, as though she was upset. Either that or she’d put on too much blush. Judging by her strange look, Ava guessed it was the former.
“Is everything okay?” Ava asked. She couldn’t imagine what was wrong. Everyone was here. The boys were already in place. The cake had made it here in one piece.
“Fine!” Zoey called out loudly. She smiled brightly. The white of her teeth competed with her wedding dress. “Everything’s fine!”
Ava didn’t know what to say. It was pretty clear that wasn’t exactly the case, but she was the odd man out in this room— in every room— it seemed. “Um,” she said, “so... we’re ready?” It came out as a question, but it wasn’t supposed to be. “I mean, we’re all ready,” Ava corrected. “Just... waiting on you.”
“We’re coming!” Zoey insisted, taking Calla’s hand. “Be right there!”
Ava closed the door as she stepped back, extricating herself from the awkward scene in front of her. She shut the door firmly then turned back to the lobby.
“What’s the hold up?” Jonah asked, looking behind her at the changing-room door.
“I don’t know. But they’re coming now.” As she said it, her heel caught on the corner of the rug. She stumbled a bit but Jonah reached out and caught her by the arm. He righted her easily and, instead of letting go once she was stable, he linked their elbows and herded her in beside him.
Ava blinked at their arms, then at her slightly older brother. In her entire life she could count on one hand the number of times she’d touched Jonah. Oh wait, no she couldn’t.
The number was zero.
Yet, here he was, touching her, holding her. He actually smiled at her. “You face-plant walking down that aisle and it’ll be on video. For life. Dalton’ll probably put it up on YouTube.”
Ava was tempted to ask if he was an alien, sent to replace the real Jonah. Instead she simply said, “Are you okay?”
He gazed at her intently, sending the usual shivers down Ava’s spine. Some of the old Jonah was definitely still there, lurking behind his eyes, hiding just beneath the surface. A crocodile ready to take down anyone who got too close to the edge of the water. “Are you?” he asked.
Ava didn’t have an answer but she thought they were both excellent questions.
Chapter Twenty-Four
True to his word, he did find her first. In the basement of the church, with old-people music pumping loudly over rented speakers, she felt two strong arms encircle her waist.
Ava’s heart thudded as loudly as the bass.
“We dance well, too.”
He pulled her to the polished wooden floor and spun her around. She nearly stumbled, but he snatched her up and drew her close. Dancing in heels was a risky proposition, but he seemed willing to take the chance. Even with her spiked heels just inches from his vulnerable toes, he whirled and twirled her so much she was nearly dizzy.
They weren’t the only ones. Even Dalton had somehow learned to dance without the aid of alcohol. The most Ava had ever seen him do was some kind of drunken booty shake that resembled a person being electrocuted. Apparently, it was all Zoey had ever seen as well, because her jaw was on the floor as she stared at him.
Dalton took her hand and twirled her as well, albeit slower and with more concentration. As they passed by Ava and Emilio, Ava could swear Dalton was counting under his breath, but Zoey didn’t seem to care at all. She was thrilled and grinning from ear to ear.
Ava made it through one more song, then staggered over to the table where Sienna was sitting. She collapsed onto a chair with a breathless sigh. The dress was fine; she could handle that. The heels were a different story. She missed the comfort of her boots.
Across from her, Sienna swirled a glass filled with punch, looking glum. It was a shame that Sienna could handle the shoes better than Ava but had no one to dance with.
On the table, Ava’s phone vibrated. She seized it and swiped her thumb over the power button, blackening the screen. Everyone she knew— and cared about— was right here in this room. Which made it obvious who was blowing up her phone. If Clint had called earlier, Sienna hadn’t noticed, or she would have said something.
To deflect any interest, Ava said, “Why don’t you dance?”
Sienna shrugged and picked up her drink, taking another sip.
Ava frowned. “So, you’re just going to sit here, tossing back fruit punch like tequila shots? With two slices of cake?”