27 Lies

by Mj Fields

  His eyes narrow a bit, no doubt wondering why I haven’t told him. Honestly, I forgot.

  “Love you, Mom. We’ll chat later.” He hangs up.

  Immediately, I tell him, “I forgot.”

  He nods then rolls onto his back, linking his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.

  The anti-Thomas, I think as I look at him.

  Two totally different men.

  Luke’s skin is always tan; Thomas was pale. Both have/had blue eyes, but Thomas’s were darker and softer, while Luke’s are a crazy kaleidoscope of light blues—I swear they glow in the dark. Thomas had light hair, whereas Luke’s is black. Thomas’s features were softer; Luke’s jaw is square and his lips are plump. Thomas had ink, beautiful ink, everywhere. Hell, he even had me inked on him. Luke only has a flag and eagle with his father’s name, date of birth and death on his chest. Thomas was toned, with long, lean muscles; Luke can be best described as a soldier. His shoulders, chest, arms, abs, obliques, thighs—everything—are all muscular. I look down Luke’s body that is covered in just a thin, white sheet and see his toes peeking out from under it. Even his toes seem muscular.

  In bed, they were also different. Thomas took his time. He made love to me. Luke...Well, Luke fucked like it was his job.

  Luke Lane and Thomas Hardy could not be any more opposite, from head to toe, and inside and out.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  He will change. - F. Gray

  LUKE

  I open my eyes to find Ava slowly looking down my body. It’s been a long fucking minute since I have been inside her, and her looking at me like that is making things...hard.

  I close my eyes and think of Mom. Yes, my mom can make an erection run and hide for months.

  Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, I think until I finally feel like everything is settled down. Then I open my eyes to see Ava looking at me as she chews her lip.

  There are a million things that are beautiful about her, but her eyes and lips have always been my favorites. Both are sexy as hell and telling of her every thought. Right now, she’s thinking about how much she wants to fuck me.

  “You’re only thinking that because it’s a game men and women have played for centuries.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asks, her face turning pink as she again begins to chew on her lip, which makes me need to think about my mom again, but fuck if I want to look away.

  “Guy likes a girl; girl knows it. Guy wants to fuck the girl; girl plays hard to get. Guy treats the girl a little shitty; girl damn near begs him to fuck her. Guy gets laid.” I sit up. “Except the story is a little out of sequence if we’re talking about last night.”

  “Because you played bitch?” she says with all the old Ava attitude I have ever seen.

  I lean forward, grab the back of her neck, and pull her hard toward me. I am centimeters from her mouth as she takes a quick intake of breath.

  “I’m never the bitch, Ava.” I quickly pop a loud kiss on her nose then push myself up and out of bed. “And I can guaran-damn-tee I am better than him in bed...if you’d not beg for me to hurry.”

  Her mouth opens and shuts like a fish out of water as I make my way to the bathroom.

  She busts in as I am brushing my teeth, scowling at me as she proceeds to brush hers. She simply glares at me, and I feel awfully damned impressed with myself.

  When she finishes, she walks over to the shower and turns on the water. She walks in then throws her clothes over the stone wall.

  Ava’s naked.

  Ava is naked.

  Kryptonite.

  I grip the counter’s edge, but the pull...The fucking pull is epic. I’m being sucked into it. I am going to fuck Ava. I’m going to fuck her now.

  But I have no fucking condoms.

  Does it matter?

  Then I hear him. Chance cries, and then I hear the water turn off. In seconds, Ava is flying out of the shower, wrapping herself up and heading toward the door with shampoo still in her hair.

  I laugh at her. “Get your ass back in the shower.”

  “But he—”

  “I got ’em. You can let them cry for more than ten seconds.”

  “No, I can’t,” she says, slipping by me.

  I catch her elbow. “Finish your shower, Ava. I got this.”

  She looks at me, cheeks pink, flushed, and I know it’s from the rush of getting out and getting to the kids, but...“Damn.”

  “Am I getting them or are you?” She looks away, rocking back on her heels.

  “Finish your shower.”

  In the babies’ bedroom, I try to hold my breath, hoping it will make my nose stop working.

  “Hope, what the hell is going on with you? You’re...sour.” Chance squawks at me, and I look at him. “Two minutes, little man, then I’ll change you.” I look back at Hope. “Sweetheart, you okay? You don’t smell okay.”

  Here I am, trying not to throw up, and Hope is grinning at me, chewing on her blanket, while Chance is telling me some sort of story, when I feel eyes on me.

  I glance over my shoulder, telling Ava, “It’s not funny. It’s not.”

  She laughs, nodding her head. “It’s funny.”

  “Jesus, Ava, we need to get your breastmilk tested. Is there something wrong with it?”

  “No.” She continues to laugh as she picks up Chance. “Tell your daddy that...” She stops and turns toward me, looking completely shocked, stunned. Honestly, I am, too.

  “Tell his daddy, what?” My voice catches like a pubescent boy.

  “That he likes Mom’s milk.”

  “Don’t blame him,” I grumble under my breath as I wrap Hope in a fresh diaper. “So much better,” I tell the little girl as I lift her up. “We’re gonna have to call a fumigator. Maybe a whole team of them.” I grab the diaper responsible and look at Ava.

  “No need for a fumigator; we have a diaper genie.” She points at the pail next to the changing table, and I dispose of the damn thing as quickly as possible.

  “All right, little man, you’re next.”

  I hand Hope to Ava as she hands me Chance, and he and I smile at each other.

  “I’m your daddy, Chance,” I whisper to him. “I am.”

  ***

  I sit in the rocker and reflect on the day. I would love to tell her that, as crazy as it was, as many shitty diapers of Hope’s we changed, as many times as we walked—well, she walked and I limped—in circles, handing Hope off to one another, it was one of the best days I have had in eight years, if not more.

  I watch Ava as she looks at Hope nervously. I want to tell her not to worry, but I know she will.

  Hope has a slight fever, and when Ava called the pediatrician, at home, and almost demanded a visit, she was told it happens with teething. The doctor told her that the sour smell coming out of Hope’s behind is also because of teething, and she told her that she would see them in a few days, but if she—meaning Ava—needed anything more, she should feel free to call.

  Ava felt free to call when Hope’s temperature “spiked” from 99.3 to 100.4. Now, not only is poor Hope assaulted with a temporal thermometer every hour, but Chance is, too.

  “How many teeth are they going to get?” I whisper, and she scowls at me.

  I walk out after I lie Chance down to find Ava writing in a notebook.

  I sit down on the opposite side of the couch and ask what she’s doing.

  “Taking notes,” she answers without looking up.

  “Notes on...?”

  She peeks up at me suspiciously. “Just notes, Luke.”

  I nod. She’s keeping it from me on purpose.

  I reach over and snatch it from her, and she yells, “Hey!”

  She tries to get it back, but I move it from hand to hand. Then she shocks me by pouncing on me to grab it. I hold it above my head and as far back as I can, and she ends up nearly straddling me, on her knees, leaning over me to get it. She’s laughing, and the sound of it is one of my favorites.

  I hav
e been here for a week, though some of it she didn’t know I was here. A week, and she seems so much fucking better already.

  “Thank you,” I whisper toward Heaven, knowing I towed hell here with me, and that there is no other explanation for this right here—her laughing—than it being sent from above.

  She finally gets the notebook out of my hand, and I grab her hips, holding her in place.

  “What’s in the book, blue eyes?”

  She bops me on the head with it and asks, “Why do you call me blue eyes when yours are bluer?”

  I shake my head. She won’t get that answer, not for a long damn time.

  “The book,” I say, holding her still when she tries to pull away.

  “Just their schedules and information.”

  “Lemme see.”

  She opens it. “This doesn’t go to court when you try to fight me for custody of Chance to prove I’m nuts.”

  “Ava,” I sigh, shaking my head. “You think I would do that?”

  She shrugs.

  “You think I would do that to you, to Hope, to him?”

  She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Visitation, custody, wanting him closer to you...”

  “Visitation, we work out together. Custody, he’s mine and yours. Him being closer...” I shake my head, knowing what I’m about to say is going to start a pissing match, and she’s fucking sitting on my lap, straddling me, her hips in my hands, and she has no fucking bra on. Fuck! “Gonna want you all closer. This place isn’t the safest to raise a family, Ava.”

  “But the culture...”

  “Between your family and mine, they’ll be plenty cultured.”

  She and I both laugh.

  “Please don’t push me, Luke. Please...I’m doing the best I can.”

  “You’re doing really well, Ava.”

  “You’re not doing too bad yourself.”

  “No?”

  She shakes her head. “Thank you for not hating me.” She starts to climb off my lap, and I notice tears in her eyes.

  I put one hand behind her back and slowly pull her closer until she is leaning against me. I hold her, hug her—whatever it is we are doing—and it feels right. God, I hope we keep right on doing it.

  Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom.

  She sits back after a minute, telling me, “I like you a little bit.” It makes me smile.

  “I like you a little bit, too.”

  She climbs off and sits a little closer to me than she did before.

  “So, Dad’s coming.”

  “You want me to be here when you tell him—”

  “NO!”

  “Jesus, Ava. Okay.”

  She clears her throat. “I mean, no, I’m not ready, and no, you can’t be here, and no—”

  “Ava, chill.”

  “Chill?”

  “Yeah, just chill.”

  And the chill comes.

  She goes to bed, while I sit on the couch with her computer, looking at pictures of my son and Hope.

  ***

  The next day, Hope is cranky, but not like other kids I have seen. She seems to get upset that she’s...upset.

  Chance stares at her. I can tell he wants to be closer to her, wants to be around her. It is amazing to watch, to be part of.

  Ava is still where I sent her, in Chill-ville, and I’m pissed that I ever mentioned the word.

  She’s in the bathroom a lot. Like, a lot. And I give her the space she seems to need, but I stick close to her.

  Three days later, and it’s two hours from the time she has an appointment for the kids who are now asleep. She packs and unpacks the diaper bag at least ten times. She makes sure that notebook she writes in obsessively is in the bag, and I find out that she has another that I don’t ask about. I just simply walked by and looked.

  She writes questions she has for the doctor. Why is that sexy?

  To get out of her hair, I go into the bedroom to do sit-ups, push-ups, and even pull-ups on the doorjamb. When I hear her talking to someone, I walk toward the door.

  “I told you, you didn’t have to come back.”

  “The kids have an appointment, and I’m your driver; it’s my job,” I hear a female voice say with a half-laugh.

  “It’s really fine. Just go ahead and leave. We’re okay.”

  “I’m not okay. I’ve missed you and them.”

  Ava’s trying to get her leave because of me. Well, I can make it easier for her.

  I walk out and clear my throat. Both Ava and Casey’s heads spin toward me.

  “Everything okay, Ava?”

  Her eyes widen, and she nods. Then she clears her throat. “Of course,” she practically screeches. “Casey, this is my, um...my friend Luke from, uh, home.”

  Aka, Chance’s father, I want to tell her.

  Casey smiles a bit. “One I haven’t met.”

  “Yeah, well, he was, um...in an explosion and is better now, so he stopped by.”

  “And I’ll be staying for some time, so...” I shrug, leaving it hanging.

  “Some time?” Casey asks.

  I snap my head around and look at her. “You’re the help, yes?”

  “Luke!” Ava snaps at me.

  “Thomas hired her, correct?” I ask.

  “She’s our friend who happens to work for us.”

  “Right,” I comment as I walk toward the kitchen to get a drink. “Sorry, my bad.”

  “Casey, will you excuse us?” Ava asks as she stomps toward me.

  “Of course. I’ll put my things...”

  “Wherever you like,” Ava finishes.

  “Ava,” Casey stops her. “You look great.”

  “Thanks, Casey,” she says as she continues to glare at me.

  Once Casey is in the elevator and heading down, Ava snaps, “What was that? The help? Are you—”

  “What do you know about her?” I interrupt.

  “I know she’s been here, and no matter how much I push her, she stays.”

  “You pay her. Of course she—”

  “Luke! Don’t be an asshole.”

  “Have you done a background check?” I ask, knowing that, even if she did, she sure as hell didn’t find what I found.

  “I’m sure Thomas did,” she says condescendingly.

  “Great, and so”—I stop myself from telling her I already did one—“will I.”

  “It’s not necessary.”

  I laugh. “As your friend”—I pause to make sure she gets that that statement pisses me off a tad— “it’s the least I can do.”

  “Oh, so you wanted me to just announce, ‘Oh, hey, and he’s Chance’s father’?” She throws her hands up in the air like it’s a ridiculous idea.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re pushing,” she warns.

  “No, Ava, I’m not. I don’t have a good feeling about that girl.”

  “Well, I do,” she counters, touching her chest. “And he was my child first.”

  “I’m pretty sure when my sperm touched your egg—”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Luke!”

  I take a deep breath and walk away, heading into the shower to cool off and get ready for the doctor’s appointment.

  She’s understandably on edge, but so am I. So am I.

  When I am dressed and ready, I come out to see Casey getting into the elevator with Chance’s car seat.

  “Hold up,” I call out, making my way as quickly as I can toward the elevator.

  Once inside, Ava looks at me nervously. “You going out?” she asks, giving me a look like I am supposed to play along.

  Well, if I have to, so does she.

  “You forget I’m going with you?”

  Her eyes slowly narrow as she looks at me. Then, in a much sweeter tone, she says, “Casey is here now; I can manage.”

  “Just two seats in the front of my truck. Casey will be a little squished between the car seats in the back.”

  “Casey is driving us.” Ava’s voice is a little less sweet now. “You don’t need to.�
�

  I smile. “I insist.”

  “There won’t be enough room,” she snaps.

  I wait to respond until the elevator stops and I open the door. “Ava, the seat bases are already in the truck. Wouldn’t want to be late, would you?”

  When I walk by Casey, I take my son’s seat. “I got this one.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  It’s okay. - Ivy Love

  AVA

  He is infuriating, bossy, arrogant, and a complete and total ass.

  I am sitting in the back seat of his white Chevy, crammed between two car seats, because he had a crazy-eyed look I have never seen him don, and I was afraid of what would come out of his mouth if I fought him after he had the balls to tell Casey that my ass—and yes, he said ass—would fit better between the seats.

  I’m embarrassed for him and because of him. Embarrassed to the point I am rendered speechless, and I am Ava fucking Links—I don’t do speechless.

  Chance is babbling, and Hope is just staring at me. My poor girl is way off her norm, and that helpless look makes me feel it deeply. I feel it with her.

  I know it’s just teething. I know it is. And she...They both have been through so much more, so much worse.

  Whoever said being a mother is easy was insane. It comes naturally? Maybe parts of it, like the whole your tits are now feeding equipment. Then there is waking up at the butt crack of dawn, and your days of sleeping in until noon on a weekend are over. Yeah, that’s now just a fond memory. But easy? Hell no.

  Take away the situation, the whole “Who’s your daddy?” conundrum from the madness going on around me with GI Jackass, and I’m surprised I am wearing pants.

  “Isn’t that right, Ava?”

  I heard his voice, but I have no clue what the hell he just said.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Your father is coming in just a couple of days,” Luke clarifies, cocking his eyebrow.

  Shit, shit, shit, shit!

  I look back up at him, and he gives me a look that seems to say, “Figure that one out, Ava.” When I glare at him, he pulls his shades out of some compartment above the console, throws them on, and shrugs.

  “He is. And Casey”—I wait until she looks back at me— “he doesn’t know Luke is here.”