by Eve Gaddy
“Mark said some people took you in. They adopted you, informally.”
“The Vincents. Yes, they were wonderful. They saved my life. Literally.”
“What happened?”
Ava shook her head. “I can’t talk about it.”
“Over the years I tortured myself with what could have happened to you. I was so thankful to hear you found someone to help you. Someone who loved you.”
“Do you expect me to apologize for not letting you know I was alive sooner?”
“No. I’m well aware that you hate me.”
Did she? Perhaps once she had, but no longer. “I don’t hate you. Even though you stayed with him, at least you weren’t the monster he was.” Unwillingly she added, “I know what it’s like to be helpless. To think you have nowhere to turn, no other alternative than the nightmare facing you.” To have to depend on strangers, who were only looking out for their own interests. If it hadn’t been for the Vincents… God, no, she couldn’t think about that. She’d spent the last twenty-three years desperate to forget it.
“Oh, Ava. I wish you didn’t. With all my heart I wish you didn’t.” She leaned forward. “I understand why you haven’t wanted to see me. But why didn’t you try to see your brothers? They loved you so much. Mark especially, since you were so close in age. It killed him when you ran away.”
She’d kept her secret for more than twenty years. She meant to go on keeping it until she died. “I can’t tell you. But trust me, I had a very good reason.”
“I’m so sorry. Sorry for the time you missed with your brothers and sorry for my part in causing it.”
“I’m sorry, too.” To her surprise, she was. “I’ve blamed you all these years, but it wasn’t all your fault. I have to take responsibility for—for what happened. For my life, and the way I’ve lived it.”
“I love you,” Lillian said. “I’ve always loved you. I thought of you every day of the last twenty-three years. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you, miss you and pray that you were safe and happy. To know you’re alive, to see you, here in the flesh… It’s a miracle.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
Despite her reservations, the sound of her mother’s weeping tore at her heart. “Don’t cry.” She reached out, touched her knee tentatively. “Please don’t cry.”
Lillian looked up, wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just so happy you’re here. That you’re alive and well.”
She couldn’t bear to look in her mother’s eyes without giving her something to comfort her. “I’m glad I decided to see you.”
“You are? Really?” Lillian’s face lit with hope.
Ava nodded. “I really am. We can’t have our old relationship back. I wouldn’t want it back. But maybe we can forge a new one.”
“I hope so. I want that more than anything. To know you again, spend some time with you.” Lillian held out her hand and Ava grasped it. “A new beginning.”
“I want that, too.” And the past could stay where it belonged. Dead and buried. Yet never, ever forgotten.
JACK HAD ASKED AVA to call him after she saw her mother. He wanted to be there to offer her support if she needed it. He hoped like hell the two women worked something out. He was beginning to get worried when his phone finally rang around two o’clock.
He snatched it up, reading caller ID. “How did it go?” he asked. “Are you all right? Do you need me to come over?”
“No, I’m fine. It went…surprisingly well. She’s not like I remembered. Jay and Mark were right about that. I think she really has changed.”
“That’s good. I’m glad for you.”
“Me, too. I’m wrung out, though. Even though it turned out better than I’d expected, it was emotional.”
“I bet. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Maybe later. It’s…a lot to take in. I need some time to think.”
“All right. Are we still on for dinner?”
“Jay asked us to dinner at their house. They’re having the whole family, except Brian, of course. I know Jay’s trying to make sure my mother and I see more of each other, but having other people around should make it easier.”
“Okay. But you don’t have to ask me. It’s a family thing. I understand that.” He could live without seeing her one night. He didn’t like it but he could live with it. They’d been together almost constantly since they’d made love for the first time.
“I want you there, Jack. Please.”
No way would he turn down that request. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
Since Mark had been estranged from his mother when Jack knew him before, he’d never met Lillian Monroe and her husband, Walt, until that evening. Walt was a nice guy in his mid-sixties who laughed a lot but not in an annoying way. He liked Lillian as well, and it was clear the rest of the family had put their differences behind them.
After dinner the whole group of them sat around Jay’s living room talking. Or trying to talk. With Jay and Gail’s three kids, Mark and Cat’s two and two very large mixed-breed dogs, who somehow managed to be inside over Gail’s protests, it was difficult to hear anything.
“Are you okay?” He leaned over and spoke in Ava’s ear, since otherwise he couldn’t be sure she heard him. She looked bemused and slightly uncomfortable, as if she didn’t quite fit in with the noisy group.
“I’m fine. A little out of my depth.” Ava glanced at her mother, who had Miranda in her lap and Jay’s two daughters, Roxy and Mel, at her feet. She was leaning on her husband’s arm and laughing at something the toddler was doing. “It’s so weird to see her like that. With grandchildren who obviously love her. Children she’s close to. You can tell.”
“She’s changed. You said it earlier.”
“Yes, I just didn’t realize quite how much she’d changed. It’s like she’s a different person.”
“I like Walt. He’s a good guy.”
“Yes, he is. She told me that he convinced her to try to reconcile with Mark and Jay and Brian years ago. Said she wouldn’t have had the courage before she met him.”
“She loves you. You can tell by the way she looks at you. Like you’re a miracle she can’t quite believe is really here.”
“I’m no miracle,” she said. “Far from it.”
“What do you mean?”
Startled, she stared at Jack as if she’d forgotten he was there. “Nothing. It’s not important.”
Maybe. But if it wasn’t important why had she looked so upset? So terribly sad? “Do you want to go home? We can talk if you want.”
“Thanks. But there are some things you can’t talk about.”
Even to the man who loves you? He wanted to ask, but he didn’t.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“THANKS FOR COMING WITH ME tonight,” Ava said after they arrived at her house.
“I enjoyed it. I like your family.”
“It’s strange to have a large family again after so many years without any family at all.” She moved around the den, straightening cushions, turning down lights.
“I’m sure it is. There are a lot of them to deal with. My family’s so small, it’s just me and Cole and my parents. Cynthia’s mother died several years ago and her father died when she was just a child, so Cole only has the one set of grandparents.”
“That wasn’t all of them,” she said with a laugh. “They didn’t ask Mark’s and Jay’s in-laws. I think they thought it would freak me out to have even more people to deal with.”
“Would it have?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably. Even though Mark and Jay have tried so hard to welcome me, I still feel out of place. Especially with…my mother. Having you there made it easier for me.”
“Any time.” He tugged her into his arms and kissed her.
He drew back and cupped her cheek, looking deep into her eyes. “I mean that. Any time you need me, I’m there. All you have to do is ask.”
“Then,” she said huskily, “I’m asking.” She smiled
and kissed him. “I want to make love with you, Jack.”
“You don’t need to ask me that twice.”
He followed her to her bedroom, watched while she lit the bedside lamp, pulled down the bedcovers. Watched while she unbuttoned her shirt, drew it off and laid it over a chair. She wiggled out of her jeans, a move that never failed to arouse him, then crossed the room to where he was standing.
Taking his hand, she led him to the bed and had him sit. Put her hands beneath his T-shirt and pushed it up, over his head, then tossed it on the floor beside them.
Stepping back, she kept her eyes on his as she took off her bra, then slipped out of her panties. Already aroused, the sight of her made him hard as granite in no time.
“Are you seducing me, Ava?” he asked, watching her slick her tongue over her lips in a deliberately arousing move.
“That’s the plan.” She offered him a wicked smile. “Unless you have an objection.”
He groaned and lay back as she went to work on his pants. “I’ll let you know if I think of one.”
“Have I mentioned I really, really like your body?” Finished with his clothes, she straddled him and kissed her way down his chest.
“I don’t…know,” he managed to say. “But I know…I like yours.” His mind was clouding. He could barely remember his name, much less the question she’d asked him. Then she slid off to continue down his body, her lips and hands smooth and hot, her dark hair like satin falling over his chest, tickling, arousing. She kept going, her mouth soft, tormenting, driving him over the edge.
“Come here,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t last any longer.” He grasped her arms and pulled her on top of him.
She rode him, lost in ecstasy, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed, her hands on his chest. He pulled her head down, kissed her mouth as he thrust inside her and came with a roar of satisfaction, then he felt her shatter around him, heard her cry of completion.
“Ava.” They were still locked together, Ava collapsed on his chest. Neither had moved but she raised her head and looked at him, a soft, satisfied smile on her kiss-swollen mouth. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “I love you.”
Her eyes widened, focused on his. Her gaze was unbearably sad. She put her fingers on his lips and whispered, “Don’t. Don’t say it.”
When he would have spoken, she kissed him. And then she made love to him all over again, until he couldn’t think, could only feel steeped in her, surrounded by her scent. Lost in love with her.
“IT’S LATE.” Jack groaned and sighed into Ava’s hair. “I have to go.”
She lay snuggled against him, flat on her stomach with one arm thrown across his chest. She didn’t want to move. “Don’t go.”
“I wish I didn’t have to.” He kissed her mouth, then rolled over and got up. “But I have an impressionable teenager at home, remember? I can’t call him and tell him I’m shacking up at my girlfriend’s. Not if I expect him to listen to any of my lectures.”
Some men would have, but not Jack. He was so determined to do the right thing for his son. To teach by example. If that meant denying himself something he wanted, then he did it willingly.
He stepped into his jeans and fastened them. He picked up his shirt, pulled it over his head, then sat beside her on the bed. Putting his hand on her back, he stroked her slowly before he spoke. “We have to talk about it, you know.”
“Talk about what?” she asked, though she had a sinking feeling she knew. He looked at her so solemnly, his sandy hair falling over his forehead, his eyes dark and intense. She wanted to take her hand and push the lock of hair back, soothe him because she knew he wouldn’t like—or understand—what was coming.
“We have to talk about the fact that I told you I loved you, and you didn’t want to hear it.”
Oh, God, why did he have to bring it up? Why did he have to say he loved her at all, much less mean it? Because she knew he wouldn’t have told her if he hadn’t really loved her. Jack didn’t lie, he didn’t evade, he didn’t keep secrets. No, she was the one who did that.
She had to be hard-nosed about this. The last thing she could afford to do was let him suspect for an instant that she loved him, too. Because if he knew, he wouldn’t understand why they couldn’t stay together, why there could never be a serious relationship between them. A man like Jack wanted marriage, family and that would never be possible with her.
She got out of bed and grabbed her robe, wrapping it around her and belting it carefully, while she considered what to say. “I see no reason to complicate what we have with declarations of love.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Wishing she smoked so she had something to do with her hands, she walked away from him, trying to look casual. “We have a good time together. We enjoy each other. We have good sex. Why complicate the matter?”
His jaw tightened. Good, she thought, watching him. If she pissed him off maybe he’d drop the subject.
“We have fantastic sex. And I’m complicating the matter…” he said, stressing her last words sarcastically “…because I’ve fallen in love with you, Ava. Are you saying you’re not in love with me?”
She tossed her hair back and faced him, willing herself to be strong. “No, I’m not,” she said, lying through her teeth. “I like you, Jack. You’re a great guy. But love just isn’t possible for me.” If her heart broke into tiny bits at the lies she uttered, so what? Knowing she loved him would only make it worse for him in the long run.
“All this is to you is sex.” He gestured at the bed, to the sheets, twisted and falling off the bed. He took three steps, coming to stand in front of her, backing her up against the dresser. “Good sex, I think you said.”
Raising her chin, she looked him in the eye. “That’s what I said.”
He moved even closer. “Tell me again,” he said, his gaze unwavering, as if he knew she lied simply by looking at her. “Look at me and tell me all we have is sex.”
She couldn’t say the words. Instead she looked away, afraid she would cry.
“You’re lying,” he said, very quietly. “I want to know why.”
She twisted away from him, putting her hands to her temples and squeezing, anything to stop the tears that threatened. “Goddammit, Jack, leave it alone! I told you from the first I didn’t want to hurt you. Don’t make me hurt you any more than I have.”
“Answer my question,” he said, his voice soft but implacable. “Were you lying when you said it was just sex to you? Do you love me, Ava?”
“Yes!” she shouted. “Damn you, yes.”
“I don’t understand.”
She gave a wretched laugh. “I know.” She walked over, put her hand on his arm. “Please, Jack, can’t we just forget we ever had this conversation? Can’t we go back to the way we were? We were happy.”
He was staring down at her, troubled. “No. I can’t leave it alone. I want more. I was waiting for the right moment, but this is going to have to do. I love you, Ava. I want to marry you.”
Oh, God, it just kept getting worse. Despairing, she closed her eyes. “I can’t,” she finally forced out. “Don’t ask me because I can’t.”
“Why? Because you had a failed marriage years ago?” he demanded. “You were twenty-something years old when that happened. That’s no reason not to try again if you love me and I love you.”
He’d never give up. And she could never tell him the truth. “The reason my marriage failed is why I can’t marry you. I told you I’d never marry again. It was a mistake, and I won’t ever put myself, or someone I care about, through it again.”
“Why?”
She didn’t answer and he continued, “Because you can’t have children? Is that what all this is about?”
Desperately, she latched on to what he’d said, though it was only part of the reason. “You deserve a woman who can give you all the children you want.”
“What I deserve is a woman I love. And that’s you. I don’t care about havi
ng more children. I have a child. Or we could adopt. Or not adopt. I don’t care, Ava. I just want you. To marry me and be a family with me and my son.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t know me. You think you do, but you have no idea who I am. You know nothing about me.” He didn’t know what she’d been, what she’d done. He’d hate her if he did.
“Of course I do. You’re beautiful. You’re kind and loving and smart and funny. You love basketball and fall colors and spaghetti and meat sauce and when you’re working hard you get a look in your eyes that tunes out the rest of the world. And when you’re loving me,” he said, his voice dropping, “your eyes get blurry and your mouth softens and you’re so beautiful it almost hurts to look at you. Saying I don’t know you— That’s just crazy talk.”
“You fell in love with a pretty face, but you don’t know what’s inside me. I’m not good and kind and oh, hell, saintly. I’m nothing like that. You might have been married to the saint, but the woman you want to ask to marry you now is the sinner.”
“Why do you say that? What could you possibly have done that could be so bad?”
I was a prostitute. I sold myself for money.
If she told him, it would be the end. Couldn’t she salvage something, anything of the relationship they had? How could she tell him the truth, and then see him every day at work and pretend it didn’t matter to either of them?
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t marry you. You have to accept my decision.”
“How can I? What kind of screwed-up decision is that, when we love each other?”
His eyes blazed. She knew he was angry and could only pray his anger would push him away from her.
“It’s the only one I can make. Marriage is out of the question. If you can’t accept that, then we’re done. We won’t be able to have even a casual relationship, and if that happens it’s going to make working together pure hell.”
“You’re serious. You’re really serious about this.”
“Dead serious.”
“Then it’s hell,” he said, and left her.
