by Laura Wright
"What are we doing, Mommy?" Lily asked.
Ava startled. "When?"
"Tomorrow." Jared supplied dryly.
"Oh. Well, I thought I'd take you to the movies. That cartoon you wanted to see is playing."
"No," Lily said, her brows drawing together. "I wanna see Jared's horsies. One's gonna have a baby."
Ava tucked a stray hair behind Lily's ear. "Jared's a very busy man, sweetie."
In other words, Jared thought, she thought he should be leaving, getting back to that busy life and getting out of here. Fine, he'd give her what she wanted and be on his way. But not without a promise for tomorrow.
"I wanna help him with the baby horsie, Mommy."
"Oh, Lil. He doesn't do that himself. He hires a vet to—"
"Actually I do help in the birth," Jared interrupted.
Ava's brows rose considerably. "You do?"
"Don't sound so surprised," he said tightly. "I am good for more than asset allocation and stock portfolios. I was pretty handy on a ranch once upon a time."
Ava felt like crawling beneath the blades of grass that fluttered in the breeze under her hand. She hadn't said one sane word since she'd seen him and Lily together. She amended, "I know you are. I didn't mean that. I just never knew that you helped with foaling, that's all."
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Ava." He jammed his hat back on his head. "And there's a lot I don't know about you."
The thin shelter of grass was far too open a place to hide, she thought. She scanned the ground, ashamed of those kinds of thoughts. She knew better than anyone that running away never solved a thing. Was she going to run forever? Was she ever going to stop, take a deep breath and face life?
Admittedly, fading life, past and future was partly why she'd come back to Paradise. She looked up into Jared's severe but magnetic gaze and found no shelter, no safe place to fall, only a deep yearning and seething anger.
At that moment, Lily jumped to her feet in a fit of spirit. "You can help us, too, Mommy."
"Listen, Lil, I never said—"
The little girl put her hands on her hips. "C'mon, peas?"
Saying no to the word "peas" was near to impossible.
"First things first," Jared said to Lily. "Why don't you two just come by tomorrow, then we'll see about helping with the foaling." He nodded at Ava. "My house at noon? Can't miss the place. Out the highway, then a right at Wes Lamb's place and down a few miles."
Ava opened her mouth to speak, then closed it as she shook her head. "I know you're really busy with your work. We can—"
"There's a lot to catch up on." He arched a brow at her. "I'll make the time."
"See, Mommy. He said he makes time."
Yes, he did, Ava thought, frustration setting in for the second time that day. She knew now that he wasn't here to get an invitation to Rita's wedding. He'd come here for answers. But Lily's presence, her existence, had thrown him, so he was pushing for tomorrow when he could get her alone. The thought unnerved Ava in ways she didn't want to explore.
"Can I pet the horsies, Jared?" Lily asked, her eyes dancing.
"I don't see why not." He gave her an easy smile. "It'll be good for them to see a pretty face after looking at the ranch hands' ugly mugs day in and day out."
Lily looked at her mother. "Mommy? Peas…"
Jared tipped his Stetson back. "Ava?"
It was a challenge—and one she knew she shouldn't back down from.
The unrelenting heat from the sun burned through her clothes. And no cool breeze was sent to rescue her. She felt herself nod. "All right."
Lily squealed. "I'm gonna tell Auntie Rita."
Yeah, tell Rita. She's going to love this.
"She's a great kid, Ava," Jared said as Lily took off into the house.
"Thank you." She gave him a tight-lipped smile.
"So, where's her father?"
She felt her smile fade. "Excuse me?"
"Your husband? Where is he?"
"As I said, we're not together anymore," she said quickly, coming to her feet.
A shadow passed over his eyes. "I can't help but wonder why you kept your last name." He looked up at her, his steely gray gaze searing through her. "Look, I was going to wait until tomorrow. But maybe we can get a head start." His brows raised expectantly. "Don't you think I've waited long enough to hear the truth?"
"The … truth," she fairly stuttered as she turned away sharply, searching for the right words anywhere else but in his eyes.
She didn't get very far.
Her hand brushed against the picnic table, knocking over the pitcher of lemonade. She fought for her footing as ceramic crashed against brick, as liquid and ice spilled everywhere. Her pulse pounded in her ears. In an instant, she was on her knees grabbing for the shards of orange and green earthenware, Jared beside her.
Her mind churned at a hundred miles an hour. He wanted to hear the truth. But which truth?
Ava sucked in her breath and dropped a shard of broken pottery. Clutching her hand to her breast, she glanced down, her index finger stinging and aching. Tiny droplets of blood fell from her finger onto the ground and onto the jagged square of ceramic.
Jared reached for her hand. "You cut yourself."
"I'm fine," she said, pulling away from him. The last thing she needed was for him to touch her.
"Let me see it, Ava."
"No. It's nothing."
He took her hand anyway. Wasn't that just like him, she thought as she gave in to his strong, callused fingers, prying open her tight fist. A small gash marred her index finger. Nothing serious, just a bad scrape, but Jared was really focused on it. He grabbed one of the quickly melting ice cubes off the ground and placed it on the cut.
Ava sucked in her breath at the sharp pain.
"Sorry," he whispered, rolling the ice over the cut in small circles. "It isn't deep. No permanent damage done."
She glanced up at him, her traitorous gaze tracing the open collar of his shirt, then stopping to stare at his smooth, tanned chest cut with pure corded muscle. Her fingers twitched in remembrance of how his chest felt beneath her hands, against her breasts. Beads of ice water trickled down her wrist, begging her pulse to slow.
"Ava, dinner's ready."
Rita called her from what seemed like a land far, far away. But it was enough. Ava pulled her hand and her gaze away from Jared and stood up.
He followed suit. "You should get some peroxide on that."
She nodded.
"And I should go." He touched the brim of his hat and started to walk away.
Last chance. To what? she thought. Run away, escape, try to get out of this neighborly call that wasn't going to turn out very neighborly? She said, "Listen, Jared, about tomorrow."
He turned and cut her a sideways glance. "What about it?"
She bit her lip. This was getting ridiculous. There was no escaping the inescapable. He deserved the truth. Hell, he demanded it. And whatever happened tomorrow she'd deal with it—here or back in New York. At least she and Jared could be free of a four-year burden. She took a deep breath, praying that he was ready to hear what she had to say. "We'll be there at noon."
* * *
Three
« ^ »
She stood above him, unbuttoning her blouse at the pace of a lazy river tumbling over smooth stones. Wrapped in the gentle light of a crescent moon, she locked her gaze with his and bared one creamy shoulder, then the other. A smile tugged at her full lips as she dropped her arms to her sides, allowing the silky fabric to fall to the grass beside her bare feet.
Even the cool grass beneath him couldn't quell the searing heat that shot straight to his groin. He was hard and waiting. He was always hard and waiting when she looked at him that way: determined and far past hungry.
A sudden breeze moved past, catching her hair, blowing it about her face. Her nipples beaded beneath the sheer, pale-pink bra she wore. She was beautiful, and he couldn't stop his gaze from traveling lower
to her smooth abdomen, downward to what other surprises awaited him. His throat went dry as he witnessed the shadow between her thighs. It was heaven barely masked by the slip of pink at her hips.
"Say it, Jared," she whispered, lowering herself on top of him.
He chuckled, cupped her buttocks firmly and whispered, "Happy birthday, Ava," against her neck as he rolled them sideways.
She lay beneath him, her sweet scent intoxicating—like honey and wildflowers.
"I want your mouth," she said.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he lowered his head to within inches of hers, their mouths a breath away. She ran her tongue over her lower lip and arched her hips up to him, her eyes pooling desire.
He cupped her face in his hands, ready to take what was his, what he 'd been waiting for for years—maybe all of his life.
Suddenly her eyes clouded over. "Jared. I … I have to—"
He kissed the tip of her nose. "You don't have to do anything, sweetheart, but relax and enjoy."
Her gaze flickered to his mouth, then returned to his eyes as though she were pondering his offer. Then her hands found his face, her fingers found his hair and he groaned, leaning into her palms. "Ava. I love when you touch me."
"Jared, I have to go," she breathed, her hands continuing to caress him.
He felt himself nod. "Later."
"Now." Her voice was insistent, but calm.
Through foggy eyes, he tried to focus. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
"I don't love you. I've never loved you." Unrelentingly she raked her fingers through his hair, held him tight and moved beneath him. "There's someone else."
"No," he practically growled.
She offered him a teasing smirk before she leaned in and whispered in his ear, "You're such a fool, Jared Redwolf."
Jared sat bolt upright, the morning sun assaulting his eyes, his senses, his mind. Tangled in sheets and drenched in sweat, he fought for air—he fought to make sense of what had just happened. His gaze darted right and left. He was in his bed, fists clenched, jaw tight. What the hell? He looked at the clock: 7:30 a.m.
It was back. He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning at that dreaded realization. He hadn't had that dream in three years. That damn dream that had always had his body aching for Ava, while his mind, his tongue longed to curse her.
Take it easy, Redwolf, he urged. She'll be gone in a few weeks. Out of your life and your dreams for good.
But what about his mind? he wondered, knifing a hand through his mussed hair. Would there ever be a time when she wasn't in his thoughts?
He glanced at the clock once again: 7:33. If today went as planned, that hope was possible. And with a little help from Tina Marie Waters tonight, it might even be probable. The sexy redhead was always around, and any time he visited her she'd always ask him to stay late, stay until morning. He'd never stayed before, but maybe he'd just take her up on that offer. Hell, rules were made to be broken. Especially in dire circumstances.
And Ava Thompson was a dire circumstance.
He shut his eyes for a moment only to see her imprint on his mind, standing above him in those pale-pink strips of lace, her skin like satin and her eyes flashing velvet-green desire.
"Dammit!" He opened his eyes, ripped off the bed-covers and jerked out of bed.
After today, she'd be a distant and forgettable memory even if that meant he'd never sleep again.
* * *
"I think carrots were the perfect choice." Ava took her daughter's hand as they left Killer Chicken Market and stepped out into the sunshine. "If you were a horse what would be your favorite treat?"
"Bubba gum ice cream," Lily replied without a moment's hesitation.
Always decisive, Ava mused as she followed her daughter's example and jumped over the cracks in the wide sidewalk that paralleled Main Street
. Where Lily had learned such superstitious behavior was anyone's guess, but the skipping and jumping and laughing was all good in Ava's book. She liked to play with her daughter. She hadn't allowed herself much of an easygoing childhood and Lily was a good teacher. The games definitely took some of the levelheadedness out of Ava, replacing it with a carefree heart. Of course, today, she'd have to skip a good fifty miles to acquire a light heart.
In about a half hour, they were going to see Jared and his horses. Well, Lily was anyway. Ava was just tagging along. And she hated to admit it, but seeing his house, the life he'd made for himself, was a tempting prospect. While seeing him was just plain tempting. Even if it came with a hefty price tag: telling him the truth.
"Don't let go of my hand, sweetie," Ava reminded Lily as they walked across the street.
"Mommy, how come nobody honks horns here?"
Ava laughed. "I guess they're not in a very big hurry." She looked around, the coolness of a Bigtooth Maple tree overhead giving her a moments respite from the hot sun. "It is pretty quiet compared to Manhattan, isn't it?"
Lily nodded. "I like it here."
Ava stopped in front of her car and looked down at her daughter. Really looked, deeply. "Do you, sweetie?"
Lily nodded again, her large, gray eyes bursting with wishes and wants.
The windows to the soul really were just that, and Ava wondered if someone looked deeply enough into her eyes would they see that she wasn't happy in New York, either. That it wasn't her home and never would be.
She turned away from her daughter and unlocked the car door. In just a few weeks they had to go back to New York whether they wanted to or not. They'd made a life there, some semblance of a home. Heck, she had a great job and clients who depended on her. She didn't really belong here.
"That old man's staring, Mommy."
Lily's words pulled Ava out of the fog that held her mind captive and she glanced up. For a moment she could only stare back at the old man across the Street that Lily was pointing to, her pulse racing. She hadn't seen him in four years, but it felt like longer. He hadn't changed much, but the lines etched in his face were deep and weighty. She cursed herself for wondering what made him look so unhappy—for caring at all after what he'd put her through.
"What's wrong, Mommy?"
Ava gripped her daughter's hand, feeling excessively protective. "Nothing, Lil. Let's go."
Let's get out of here before I say something or he says something or—
"Ava?"
Too late.
She stopped where she stood—trying to urge her daughter into the car—and turned to face him. "Hello, Dad."
Family, and friends of the family, had always kidded with Ben and Olivia Thompson that neither one of their daughters looked anything like either one of them. Two blond kids born to two brunette parents. Ava was certain that she'd inherited a few of her mother's features, but none of her father's. Not until today anyway. There it was, plain as day. Not a feature exactly, but an expression—one he'd never worn before—and it surprised her. Doubt and hesitance. She'd seen that very same look a thousand times in the mirror.
He gave her a tentative smile. "You're home."
She only nodded. Her throat felt constricted.
"It's good to see you." He dropped his gaze to the little girl at her side. "Is this Lily?"
Ava nodded, gripping her daughter's hand. "Yes."
Please don't say anything cruel, she begged silently as she watched him lower onto one knee in front of Lily, his body making all those crunches and cracks that came with age.
"Hi, there," he said.
"Hi." Lily moved closer to Ava. "Who are you?"
Ava held her breath, her hand fisting around the car keys.
"I'm your grandpa."
Lily smiled and gave him a nonchalant shrug. "Okay."
Relief spread like a warm blanket over and through Ava, but it was swiftly replaced by fear. Fear of her daughter knowing her grandfather and someday being rejected by him. When love was tossed aside in favor of pride, people got hurt. Very hurt. She didn't trust the man making nice to her daughter.
"It's my birthday," Lily was telling him, holding up six fingers. "In this many months."
He smiled. "I know."
She giggled. "You do?"
Of course he did. A time that, to Ben Thompson, would most assuredly live in infamy. Next he'd be asking her what she'd like for a present, Ava thought as she tugged on her daughter's hand. "We have to go, Dad. We're expected somewhere."
"I get to see the horsies at Jared's house," Lily supplied. "Do you know Jared?"
Ben Thompson came to his feet, the lines around his mouth tightening. "I do."
Ava turned away, darkness surging through her. He hadn't changed at all. He was still a sad old bigot. What was she thinking standing here? It was as if she was waiting to be hurt by him again. She opened the back door. "Get in the car, Lil."
Lily paused, then shrugged. "Bye, Grampa."
"Goodbye, Lily." He smiled at the little girl, then followed Ava around to the other side of her car. "Could you come by the house sometime?"
She didn't look at him. "We don't have much free time."
"How about a quick dinner? You and Rita and Lily."
Ava tried to swallow the grapefruit in her throat. Why was he doing this? Why was he playing nice now? What did he want?
"Thursday?"
She found his gaze.
"Round six?" His eyes were hopeful.
She looked over at Lily. The little girl was smiling brightly in her car seat. Looking hopeful, too. With the lack of men in her life, of course she sought out a father, a grandpa—of course she was hopeful. But Ava just couldn't allow that hopeful, sweet face to turn sad and tearstained when her grandfather finally rejected her the way Ava knew he would. She wouldn't allow her daughter to get hurt, ever.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly but firmly as she climbed into driver's side of the car. "I don't think so."
She left him standing there as she pulled away from the curb, her heart tugging with the pains of the past. Lily didn't say much, just looked out the window—and honestly, Ava was thankful.