“She may be the one, Ridge. The. One. And you’re gonna mess around and let some other guy steal her right out from under you.”
“We’re friends.”
“Ha! The red lipstick smeared on your mouth would suggest otherwise.”
Instinctively, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Heck, Mason may be stealing her right now,” Kelsey said, trying to irritate me and being quite effective. “So, I’ll tell you what,” Kelsey continued, “I’ll think about what you said, and you think about what I said.”
I frowned, unable to get the thought of Mason making out with Ava out of my mind.
“Now, let’s get back in there before Mason gets her pregnant.”
“Damn, Kel, do you mind?”
She turned and headed back toward the door to my apartment. Detecting a hint of evil mingled in her irritating laughter, I followed her.
To my relief, Ava was sitting on the opposite side of the room from Mason.
“You ready to go, Ava?” Kelsey asked. She turned to Mason. “See if you can find another roommate. If you haven’t found one by the end of November, hit me up.”
Relief drained the tension from my shoulders. Mason wasn’t good enough for my sister, and I didn’t want her anywhere near him.
“Where are we going?” Ava asked Kelsey.
“We could go to a movie,” Kelsey suggested. “Does that work?”
Ava shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
“You wanna go, Ridge?” Kelsey asked.
I wanted to, but I had a ton of work to do and a promotion to think about. As much as I liked Ava, I knew that the more time I spent with her, the more likely I was to let everything I’d worked so hard for fall by the wayside.
Ava looked at me hopefully, her blue eyes searching my face for my answer.
“I can’t.” I thumbed toward my bedroom. “I’ve been working on a troubleshooting problem that has several of us stumped. I’m hoping to find a solution before Monday morning.”
“Your loss,” Kelsey announced loudly as she headed toward the door.
“You know what they say about all work,” Mason called from the kitchen as he rummaged through the cabinets, still shirtless.
Ava started to shrug out of my jacket.
“No,” I stopped her. “Keep it. It’s only going to get colder tonight. You can give it back to me later.”
She pulled it back on her shoulders. “Okay.” She watched me, unsmiling. “You sure you won’t go with us?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“How about you, Mason?” Kelsey asked. “You wanna go?”
“Hell, yeah. I’d be a stupid ass to pass up the chance to go out with two good looking honeys like y’all.” Mason stared pointedly at me, giving me the distinct impression that he’d just called me a stupid ass.
“Have a good time,” I said softly to Ava as I headed down the hall towards my room. I tried to be nonchalant, to act like I didn’t give a damn that Mason was going out with the two women I didn’t want him anywhere near.
But within fifteen minutes of them leaving the apartment, I knew I was full of bullshit. I’d wanted to change my mind, to go with them, but I’d always put my responsibilities above my personal pleasures. I’d done it so long that it was engrained in me. And didn’t I need to be the one who found the solution to our engineering problem? Wasn’t I always the one who was reliable, dependable, predictable?
Unable to concentrate on troubleshooting, I walked back to the kitchen and poured a shot of vodka.
I’d never felt so dissatisfied in my life.
And there was only one reason I did now.
Ava Nottingham.
Chapter 12
Ava
A chill had invaded my apartment during the night. I sipped on a hot cup of coffee, savoring the warmth that slithered into my belly.
Since I hadn’t put my prosthesis on yet, I hopped to the cabinet in search of a bottle of pain reliever. I opened it and shook a couple of pills into my palm. My residual leg was killing me.
I hopped back to the table and plopped into the hard, wooden chair. Popping the pills into my mouth, I downed them with a sip of coffee and willed them to work swiftly.
The triathlon was getting closer, and I desperately wanted to be prepared. I’d increased my running and cycling, in an effort to make sure that I would have the needed stamina. I rubbed my residual leg, smoothing my fingers over my scar. Dabbing on a bit of petroleum jelly, I winced as my fingers brushed over a blister. I’d been leaving my prosthesis off while I was at home, in hopes of my leg healing more quickly.
I was due to meet Ridge at the track in less than an hour.
Finishing my cup of coffee and half a banana, I hopped to the couch and sat down, so that I could put on my everyday leg.
Once I’d finished, I walked around until it had clicked in place. Then, I grabbed his jacket, my purse, and my keys and headed to meet him.
I arrived early, and I stepped out of the warmth of my car, putting my purse in the trunk and removing my running blade. Sitting down sideways in the driver’s seat, I removed my everyday leg and replaced it with my blade, which had been custom made from high performance carbon fiber. Without it, I would’ve never made it to the finish line in my first triathlon.
The roar of Ridge’s Camaro alerted me that he had arrived, and I watched as he stepped out of his car and walked toward me, his figure nothing more than a silhouette in the darkness.
“Good morning,” he greeted as he folded his hands over his chest and leaned his hip against my car.
“You ready to have your butt kicked by a girl?” I asked, genuinely happy to see him.
He laughed softly. “If there’s one girl that can do it, it’s you.”
I returned his jacket to him, and he put it in his car while I finished getting ready. I stood and pushed the door closed. After locking my car, I tucked my keys into the tiny pocket of my running shorts. “Let’s get moving,” I suggested, meeting him halfway between our cars. “I’m freezing.”
The only lights in the park were the ones that lit up the track, and as we left the parking lot and neared the track itself, our visibility greatly improved.
“I see you brought out the high-tech equipment this morning,” Ridge said.
I glanced down at my leg, realizing that this was the first time he’d seen my running leg, which sort of looked like the curved end of a crow bar. It definitely didn’t resemble a human foot. “Yeah, it’s a custom-made blade designed from carbon fiber. It looks a little strange, but it’s much easier to run long distances with this bad boy.”
He grinned. “I’ll try to keep up.”
After completing a few warm-ups, we started jogging at a brisk pace as we began our hour-long run.
“Do you realize we only have three weeks until the triathlon?” he asked.
“Aye, an’ thar be only two weeks ‘til yer Halloween party, matey,” I said in the most gravelly voice I could muster while I was running.
He chuckled. “Arrr, an’ it’ll be a ruckas fer sure.”
Our silence lengthened as we pushed ourselves harder and faster. Despite the cool air, sweat dampened my forehead. The discomfort blooming from the blister on my residual leg grew, and with every lap I finished, I had to force the pain from my mind as I focused on the triathlon. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do this, and for reasons I didn’t know how to explain, I wanted Ridge to know that I could do this.
As the pain grew, I imagined the crowds on both sides of the track. I could hear their cheers as I pushed toward the finish line. Their hands stretched toward me, and I imagined reaching out and touching them as I passed the spots where they stood. Eleven seconds. I had missed the deadline of the last triathlon by eleven seconds and that number had haunted me ever since.
When a cashier tallied my purchases and I owed however many dollars plus eleven cents, I cringed. When I changed the channel on my television to channel eleven, those
damn eleven seconds loomed in my head, taunting me. Every time the number eleven popped up, I remembered that it was a lousy eleven seconds that kept me from officially completing the triathlon. Eleven damn seconds.
Pain ripped through my leg, but I pushed harder. Ridge was running effortlessly by my side, and I was overwhelmed with the need to keep up with him.
“Ten more minutes,” he informed me as the sun began to rise.
I started to respond, but excruciating pain caused me to cry out. My leg felt like it was on fire.
“Ava, what is it?” Ridge asked, coming to a stop beside me.
I waved him on as I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth against the pain.
“Ava?”
I could hear the panic in his voice.
“Go on, Ridge. I don’t want to mess up your training.”
“What’s wrong? Are you tired?”
“My leg is killing me. Go on. I’ll be fine.”
I dropped down to the ground, sitting with my legs stretched out in front of me. Ridge hovered over me, his brows furrowed as he stared at me with concern. “What can I do?” he asked.
“Nothing!” I yelled, unable to keep the aggravation from being reflected in my voice. “Go on, Ridge. I’ll be fine.” I could feel the hot tears burning the corners of my eyes. Frustration filled every cell of my body. Squeezing my eyes shut, I painfully inhaled air into my lungs.
I didn’t have to look to know the blister on my residual limb was the source of my agony. I wanted to close my eyes and make the pain go away, not just the physical pain but the emotional pain, too. I didn’t want Ridge to see me like this, to know that I couldn’t finish the training session.
Ridge stooped on his haunches. “Let me help you, Ava,” he said softly, his breathing only slightly labored.
I gulped in a breath of air. “Damn it! I don’t need your help, Ridge. I’m perfectly able to make it on my own.” I rose back to my feet, but as soon as I applied pressure to my prosthesis, I sank back to the ground.
Hot tears seeped beneath my lids as I closed them tightly. I was exhausted, in extreme pain, and terribly embarrassed.
“The parking lot is still a good distance away. Let me help you.”
“No. I don’t want your help.”
Before I knew what he was doing, he scooped me into his arms. “We all need help sometimes, Ava,” he said, his voice as soothing as the lake water gently lapping against the bank. “Will you let me help you?”
I nodded my head as I threw my arms around his neck and squeezed. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed being in his arms until I was once again wrapped in the security that his embrace offered. His warm hands wrapped around my legs and torso, and he carried me toward the car effortlessly as if he hadn’t just run several miles. I buried my face in his neck as the tears spilled down my cheeks. I didn’t want him to see.
“I gotcha, my sweet, sweet Ava,” he whispered, placing a light kiss on my temple.
Not even knowing why, I cried even harder. There was something comforting about being this close to Ridge Sutherland and hearing his soft, soothing voice, about feeling safe in his strong yet gentle grasp. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel quite so lonely.
I didn’t know when it had happened, but somewhere between showing up at the cabin door and this moment of being carried in his arms, Ridge had earned my trust. He was a good man, and not only did I want him, I needed him.
He carried me to my car and carefully lowered my legs to the pavement. I released his neck and wiped away any remaining tears. “Thank you,” I whispered.
His hand cupped my nape, and his lips grazed mine. “I’m following you to your apartment.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
I nodded. “Okay.” I fished my car keys out of my pocket and gritted me teeth against the pain as I slid in behind the steering wheel. Once Ridge was inside his Camaro, I backed out and watched him in my rearview mirror as he followed me.
When I pulled into the parking spot in front of my apartment, he pulled in beside me and hurried to my door. He offered me his hand.
I dangled my keys in front of him. “Would you mind going in and getting my crutches?”
“What? And miss out on the chance to have you in my arms again? There’s no way in hell.”
“Ridge,” I said in an authoritative voice, shaking my keys until they clanked together to help get my point across.
“Come on, Ava. We don’t need crutches.”
“We don’t, but I do.”
He dropped down on his haunches, placing his warm palms on my knees. “I’d like to think that if the tables were turned, you’d carry me in. You would, wouldn’t you?” The muscles of his forearms flexed as he gently squeezed my knees. He watched me, and his eyes seemed to turn from amber to a darker hazel.
“I might be willing to throw you over my shoulder like a sack of dog food...or a corpse.”
He shot me a crooked grin. “There’s something very unhealthy about your fascination with dead men.”
Before I could respond, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.
Giggling, I could feel the blood rushing to my head as I pounded his back with my fists. “Put me down.”
He smacked me on the butt. “Behave. You don’t want to find out what happens to bad girls.”
Laughing as he began to walk down the sidewalk, I managed to lock my car with my key fob. I grabbed at his shirt, bunching it in my fists. “Ridge, put me down.”
I was rewarded with another slap across my butt, and I shrieked in response, my voice carrying across the parking lot. By the time we reached my apartment door, I was out of breath due to a combination of being tossed over his shoulder and laughing harder than I had in weeks.
He carefully set me down in front of my door, his hands firmly grasping each side of my waist to steady me.
Taking my keys from my hand, he unlocked the door, opened it, and handed my keys back to me.
“You want to come in?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as eager as I felt.
“Sure.” He scooped me back up and pushed the door shut behind us with his foot. When he carefully deposited me on the couch, I held firmly to his neck, refusing to let go. “I don’t believe you ever told me what happens to bad girls,” I whispered in his ear, my demeanor suddenly serious.
He turned his head, his lips finding mine. He pushed me back onto the couch, his body poised above me as he held himself up with his arms. One knee rested between my legs, pressing against the apex of my thighs, while the other rested on the outer edge of the cushions.
I closed my eyes as he devoured me, his tongue tempting, tasting, and my body shivered with anticipation. It had been so long since a man had been this close to me, and longing coursed through my most intimate parts like an electrical current.
He cupped my breast through my thin shirt, and my nipple hardened in response. His hand moved lower, sliding over my abdomen as his fingertips dipped into the waistband of my shorts. He captured my moan in his mouth as his hand slid lower still, his fingertips skimming along my skin until they were under the edge of my panties. I lifted my hips off the couch, hoping to encourage him to do something about my overwhelming need for his touch. In an achingly slow process, his hand rhythmically moved closer and closer to the source of my need. When his fingers finally parted my flesh and teased my nub, I closed my eyes, my breathing uneven. His lips left my mouth and skimmed my jawline, dropping to my neck as he scooted farther down the couch, allowing him easier access to my sensitive flesh.
My hips moved rhythmically with his strokes as his fingers teased me, creating a burning need for more of him.
He pressed his hips against my leg, his rigid hard-on unforgiving against the soft flesh of my thigh. “My sweet Ava,” he whispered. “You feel so damn good.”
My breath came out in pants as he stroked me.
“Hot and wet,” he said as he cont
inued to tease.
I couldn’t think. All I knew was that I didn’t want him to stop.
His fingers were like magic as they massaged me into the sweetest form of torment. I clung to him, fistfuls of fabric clutched in my hands. The anticipation continued to build as the tip of his finger slipped inside me, easing in and out as he went deeper and deeper until he finally plunged his finger inside me, filling me to the hilt. I cried out as ecstasy exploded within me, making me tremor with pleasure.
His mouth found mine again, swallowing my screams.
When I finally lay limply beneath him, he whispered, “And that my dear, sweet Ava, is what happens to bad girls.”
“Remind me to be bad more often,” I whimpered.
Chapter 13
Ridge
Propping my arms against the shower wall, I stood motionless, my chin almost touching my chest, as the steaming water sluiced over my aching muscles. I’d left abruptly after pleasuring Ava, and now that two days had passed, I still couldn’t get her response out of my mind. My morning run had done nothing to get her out of my head. If anything, it had only given me more time to think about her.
I should have stopped myself before things had gotten too far, but everything about her was so freaking sweet, her personality, her scent. Damn, I got hard just thinking about her. I’d wanted her so badly, more than I’d ever remembered wanting a woman. Had it been anyone else, I would’ve finished what I’d started. But it had been Ava, and she’d been through so much already. And I knew I didn’t want a relationship, not the kind that she wanted. One day, I would, but I’d made myself a promise not to let women get between me and my goals. Women were dangerous. They made men forget their purposes.
Turning my face up into the water, I finished showering. I had to meet Ava to close on my house in an hour. I hadn’t talked to her since I’d escaped her apartment except for a very brief final walk-through of the home I intended to purchase. I had claimed that I had to hurry and get back to work, but in reality, I didn’t want to be alone with her. Before I’d left, she’d reminded me about the time and place of the closing, and I’d quickly acknowledged the information. All business. And while I knew that’s the way it needed to be, I also knew it would be hazardous being close to Ava again. She made me want to push my goals to the back burner, to breathe in her essence, to forget all the things that I’d drilled into my brain over the past eleven years. I’d spent two solid days thinking of nothing but her, and I knew she was poison to my well-laid plans. The fact that I was getting closer and closer to saying to hell with those plans was what scared me the most. None of the other women that I’d dated had ever pushed me into that territory. But with Ava, I was teetering on the brink and every time I saw her, she pushed me a little closer to the cliff. Remembering her face as she had responded to my touch made me want to jump.
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