Dinner progressed at a casual pace and the conversation was lively and animated, especially when Parker told Brody the story about the extra special cookies their neighbor, Dottie, made for him. But despite the normalcy of the evening, Avery could feel the knot of tension tightening in her stomach. With each passing word the moment was drawing nearer, the moment that would no doubt change all of their lives.
When the last piece of chocolate cake was eaten and the last dish cleared away, she returned to the table and sat in silence, watching the bemused expressions on Brody’s face as Parker gave him a detailed account of his week, including play by play recap of the cookies Dottie had baked for him.
“They even had M&Ms in them!” Parker exclaimed.
“You don’t say.”
Any misgivings Avery may have had about telling Parker the truth no longer existed, and now seemed as good a time as any to tell him. Taking a steadying breath, she slid her chair closer towards them.
Brody noticeably stiffened and relaxed only slightly when Avery put her hand on his forearm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She waited for Parker to finish his story before she began to speak.
“Parker, there’s something we have to tell you and it’s very important.”
Parker looked from Avery to Brody but said nothing.
Don’t be a wimp. Just spit it out. Avery took another deep breath and continued. “You know how Brody has been spending a lot of time with us lately?”
Parker’s gaze remained fixated on Avery but he was unfazed by her words.
“Well, that’s because… That’s because he’s your daddy.”
Parker shifted sideways on Brody’s lap and looked up at him. He sat there, quiet and unmoving, and when at last he spoke, his response was swift and decisive. “I know.”
“What do you mean, you know?” Avery stammered.
“Chester told me.”
“Chester? Who’s Chester?” This conversation had just gone from serious to obscure in five seconds flat.
“Duh! He’s my bear,” Parker replied matter-of-factly, as if everyone should know Chester the Bear on a first name basis.
Brody and Avery sat at the table staring at each other, unsure of what to say next. All those months of stressing over telling Parker the truth had been in vain.
Brody cleared his throat and broke the silence that had settled around them. “Well then, why don’t I get you ready for bed and sing that song I promised you.”
“Can you sing to Chester too?”
“Of course I can, Buddy. Anything for you.” Brody stood up from the table, pulling Parker into his arms as he rose from the chair. He paused in the doorway and turned to look at Avery. He wanted to say something, but words escaped him and all he could do was shrug.
Befuddled by the odd turn of events the evening had taken, Avery walked over to the sink and turned on the hot water tap. Chester the Bear may have been the one to spill the beans, but she was relieved that the truth was finally out in the open. Well, part of the truth anyways. There was still the whole issue of New York looming over her head. If she didn’t go, her father would be furious and most likely disown her, but if she stayed in Boston, she and Brody could make an honest go of it. They could be a family. Lost in thought—and the sweet melodic tone of Brody’s voice as it drifted through the speaker of the baby monitor—Avery began washing the dishes. It wasn’t until she heard a rustling noise behind her that she realized he had returned to the kitchen.
“Now, where were we?”
Avery slung the dishtowel over her shoulder and leaned back against the counter. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned about Parker?”
“What’s there to be concerned about?”
“Oh, I don’t know, how about the fact that he thinks his stuffed bear is talking to him?” she snapped back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“He’s a kid, Avery. Kids have imaginary friends.” Brody hated seeing Avery so distressed. Wanting to say or do something to comfort her, he walked across the kitchen and leaned up against the counter beside her, brushing aside a loose strand of hair and tucking it neatly behind her ear. When he’d arrived earlier that night, Avery had clearly been agitated over something Chloe had said to her, but now her mood had grown more somber. When he spoke, the tone of his voice softened. “There’s nothing to be worried about. Parker’s a happy, healthy, normal child.”
“You just don’t get it, do you? Tears stung her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Hastily, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. “That’s the whole problem! Before you showed up, Parker wasn’t a normal child. He struggled with issues. He was antisocial to the point of being afraid of playing with other children. He never wanted to go anywhere or do anything. But look at him now. He’s completely changed and it’s all because of you.”
Oh, Avery. Brody knew that Parker had a shy streak in him, he could sense it the day they all went to E. Cheese, but he had no idea it was that bad. This was something else Avery had shouldered all on her own, something he could’ve helped her with had he known about Parker from the beginning. But the past couldn’t be changed anymore than their destiny could be foretold. What was meant to happen would happen regardless of what they did to try and change it. All Brody could do now was offer her a kind word and a shoulder to cry on. “I’m so sorry, Avery. I didn’t know.”
“How could you have possibly known?” she stammered. “I’m the one that kept you from your son. Parker’s problems are my fault, not yours or anyone else’s.” Her candid admission—to Brody and to herself—caused a fresh wave of tears to stream down her flushed cheeks. Avery didn’t want Brody to see her like this, like a blubbering fool that couldn’t keep her emotions in check, but when she tried to turn her back to him, his hand found her shoulder and he gently turned her around to face him.
“Don’t blame yourself. You did an amazing job raising Parker. He’s an amazing kid.”
“That’s because he takes after his dad.” Avery couldn’t help but laugh. Chloe may have a knack for getting under her skin, but Brody had a way of making her smile when she needed it most.”Why don’t you go lie down? I’ll make you a tea and bring it to you. You can curl up in bed and finish reading that trashy book of yours.”
“What book?” Avery asked indignantly, and her cheeks turned a crimson shade of red.
“Oh, you know, the one sitting on your nightstand beneath that stack of old photography magazines.”
Had Brody been snooping through her things? No, he’d never do something like that. Surely he must’ve noticed it one of the times he was in there. Reading steamy novels may not be taboo, but it did give Avery a naughty idea. “I think I’ll pass on the tea, but you’re welcomed to join me in bed. We can act out my favorite scene.”
Wordlessly, Brody followed her to the bedroom, eager to see what millions of women worldwide were so hot and bothered about.
His pulse quickened with each languorous step he took across the bedroom. He and Avery had made love many times before, but this time felt different. After tonight, things between them would never be the same again. He removed his shirt and tossed is aside, then lowered himself onto the mattress. He felt nervous, like a teenage boy about to have sex for the first time, but this was Avery, the love of his life. He had nothing to be nervous about. Anxiously, he reached for the book on the nightstand and began thumbing through it. “So, what’s your favorite part?”
For the second time in less than fifteen minutes, Avery turned an embarrassing shade of red. She snagged the book from his hand and turned to the very first sex scene then handed it back to him. “Read it for yourself.”
He lay on the bed, engrossed in what he was reading. With each passing paragraph, the bulge in his pants grew. When he was done, he returned the book to the nightstand and turned his eyes on Avery. “Vanilla, huh? Is that what they call it?”
Avery stifled a laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with vanilla sex.”
“I agree,” Brody replied, a
nd stifled a laugh of his own. “Vanilla sex is perfectly fine as long as it’s topped off with whipped cream and a cherry.”
The two burst out laughing, but the laughing came to an abrupt halt when Brody leaned over and placed a chaste kiss to her lips. Clothing landed in a heap on the floor beside the bed as they undressed each other in silence.
Avery quivered when Brody pressed his lips to her stomach. The sensation of his touch sent chills up her spine and a moan escaped her lips as he trailed his tongue across her skin, stopping only when he reached the thin strip of moist fabric between her legs.
Using his teeth, Brody gently pulled at the fabric until Avery lay naked and exposed beneath him. Now free of the last remaining piece of clothing, he began to seek out the source of her wetness, his fingers leaving Avery’s skin scorched as his hand glided up the inside of her milky thigh. The pad of his thumb caressed her as he gathered her cream and gently slipped two fingers deep within, stoking her until she groaned and arched against him. He brought his mouth down on her, suckling her as his skilful fingers found what he’d been looking for, the sensitive spot deep within her body that brought her the greatest form of pleasure. He smiled against her heated flesh as her muscles clenched his fingers, and his strokes deepened.
Avery’s body trembled when the beginnings of an orgasm skittered through her body.
With slow and deliberate movements, Brody removed his fingers, only to replace them with his tongue. The taste of her filled his mouth as he drove his tongue deep into her. Mercilessly, he devoured her until, with a final shudder, she exploded in his mouth. He drank deeply from her, drawing out her orgasm until the trembling subsided.
Avery clenched the sheets tightly in her hands, the Egyptian cotton bunching between her fingers as she clung tightly to the fabric. The feeling of Brody’s mouth on her body was almost more than she could bear.
His lips glided silkily across her skin; tasting, teasing, tormenting her, his tongue lashing and laving her with every movement he made. A deep, guttural moan that began in her stomach worked its way up her throat and passed her lips as Brody closed his mouth around her taut nipple, suckling her as she writhed beneath him. Avery’s body inched towards another climax, but Brody held her precariously on the edge of orgasm.
His voice was hot on her skin when he whispered against her heated flesh. “Not yet,” he murmured, and his fingers once more slid deep within her body. “I’m not done with you yet.”
His hands and mouth ravaged her, and Avery was barely able to hold on to reason.
She shifted slightly on the bed, spreading her legs wider in invitation. As if of one mind, Brody released his mouth from her breast and positioned himself between her legs. He inched forward, pressing further and further into her body.
“What do you want?” he demanded, and slid within another inch.
“Brody,” she replied breathlessly, tilting her hips upwards and begging him silently with her pleading eyes.
“What do you want?” he asked again, his voice more forceful, more lustful.
“You, I want you.”
With one swift thrust he entered her fully. He moved slowly at first, relishing the feel of her tight muscles clenching him, encompassing every inch of him.
She clenched him tighter and his rhythm increased, his strokes becoming hurried as he thrust into her.
Avery arched into him and felt the warmth of his chest on her skin. She raced towards orgasm at a dizzying pace, all thoughts being driven from her mind under the onslaught of pleasure that he was bestowing upon her, all thoughts except for how completely he filled her.
She felt the tips of his fingers brush the inside of her thigh as Brody reached between their bodies. The pad of his thumb pressed down against her and that was all that was needed to send her spiralling over the edge. Avery convulsed as wave after wave of orgasm skittered through her body. She contracted around him, gripping him like an iron fist, and bringing him over the edge with her.
They collapsed on the bed, their bodies a tangled mass of limbs and flesh. Brody pulled Avery against his chest and ran his fingers through her hair until her breathing slowed.
With his heart rate still accelerated and his breathing laboured, he panted out, “Was that vanilla enough for you?”
“Screw vanilla, that was chocolate with a double helping of fudge.”
As the last vestiges of orgasm ebbed, and tiredness began to overtake them, they fell asleep in each other others arms, sated and happy.
Chapter 15
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Avery mumbled tiredly in her sleep and rolled over.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
She pulled the blankets over her head, trying to block out the sound of the malevolent noise determined to wake her up.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
The rapping sound continued to echo in her head, growing louder and louder, drawing her out of a restful sleep.
Slowly, she opened one eye and then the other, gradually lifting the corner of the blanket. In the darkness of the bedroom, the red lights on the alarm clock glared brightly, and she squinted. 1am? She and Brody had just fallen asleep a little over an hour ago.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“What the hell?” Avery cursed, and sat up on the side of the bed. Who could possibly be knocking on her door at one o’clock in the morning? Whoever it was was going to get an earful if they woke Parker up. She stumbled sleepily across the bedroom. On the top shelf of the closet was a large aluminum baseball bat she kept on hand for situations such as this. Avery crept down the hall, holding the bat tightly in her hands as she sidestepped the creaky middle floorboard and silently navigated her way to the front door. She reached for the lock, but Brody grabbed her wrist before she could open the door.”
“What on earth do you think you’re doing? Give me that,” he whispered harshly, and snatched the bat from her hand. “Get behind me.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
The rapping sound was even louder this time. Whoever was on the other side of the door must’ve heard them talking. Protectively, Brody stepped in front of Avery, forming a human shield. “Stand back,” he ordered, and inched closer to the door, close enough to look through the peephole. Just the sight of her made his blood boil. “For fuck’s sake!”
Even in the dark, Avery could sense his tension increase tenfold. “Who is it?”
Brody took a step backwards, unlatched the deadbolt, and opened the door. “Hello, Veronica.”
Avery stared at the slender, black haired woman standing in her doorway, too stunned by her appearance to utter a word. What in the hell was Brody’s ex wife doing at her door at one o’clock in the morning anyways? She’s not his ex wife, Avery quietly reminded herself after noticing that a wedding band still encircled the woman’s willowy finger. They’re still married.
Veronica tapped her foot impatiently and fidgeted with the envelope in her hand, all but ignoring Avery who stood in the shadow of Brody’s wide girth. “Let’s skip the formalities.”
“Fine,” Brody sneered. The woman made his skin crawl. “Why are you here?”
“I came to deliver this.” Veronica held the envelope in the air, waving it gingerly in front of his face.
“What’s that?”
“If you had the decency to return my phone calls and text messages, or showed up for the appointment I made you, I wouldn’t have had to disturb your tryst with this little bitch. You’ve known about this for over a month but kept putting it off. One of us had to tell her.” She smiled smugly and nodded in Avery’s direction.
“Watch your mouth,” Brody warned. The harsh tone of his voice reinforced the seriousness of his warning. As much as he’d love to tell Veronica to fuck off and die, he had to proceed with caution. As it was, he stood to lose a lot in the divorce proceedings. Anymore and he’d be bankrupt.
“I didn’t come here to fight. I came here to give your girlfriend this.” She spat out the word girlfriend as if it were poison on h
er tongue.
Brody reached for the envelope, but Veronica jerked her hand back out of his reach. “I’m not playing your games, Veronica. Give me the damn envelope.”
“I can’t give it to you.” Her voice was upbeat and playful, a stark contrast to the devious glint in her eyes. “It has to be given directly to the person it’s intended for.” Veronica turned her icy stare on Avery. “You see, I think that bastard child of yours belongs to someone other than my husband, and this court order here is going to prove me right once and for all.”
“Who in the fuck do you think you are?” Avery yelled, having finally found her voice. Rage for a woman she did not know began to boil in her veins. Calling her a bitch was one thing, but no one—especially not this skanky, two bit tramp—was going to call her son a bastard. With little disregard for what she was about to say next, Avery stepped out from behind Brody’s shadow and into the light of the hallway. “How dare you come to my home in the middle of the night and call my son a bastard.”
Veronica scoffed and took a step towards Avery. “Listen here, you little bitch. You’re nothing more than a thrill ride for Brody. Once he comes to his senses, he’ll realize that you’re only after his money. Better he find out now that your kid isn’t his son before you take him for every penny he’s worth.”
Money? Since when did Brody have money? He’s a tattoo artist. Avery knew that Brody must have some money, but she’d never thought of him as being wealthy. Of course, that would explain the $25,000 cheque and the brand new $80,000 SUV. But whether he had money or not never factored into their relationship.
“That’s enough, Veronica,” Brody warned sternly. “Give me the envelope.”
“I told you, I can’t give it to you.”
“Fine, then give it to Avery.”
At the sound of her name, Avery zoned back into the conversation. “What is it?”
Veronica handed her the envelope.
“I’m not taking it until you tell me what it is.”
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