Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
She wants to change the subject? Fine by me. “Nearly ten years.”
“She’s fond of you.”
“She is.” Probably through sympathy, I expect. She thinks I need looking after.
“Does she know about The Manor? Ouch!”
Shit. I lift my hand from the particularly angry welt, apologizing repeatedly, kissing her between her wounds, feeling fucking awful.
“It’s fine.” She strains the words. “I’m fine. Unravel your boxer shorts.”
I raise my brows. Sarcasm. I lift off her arse and slap it. “Don’t be clever.”
She accepts my scorn and proceeds to pick my brain about Cathy, The Manor, whether she knows about it. “Yes, she knows. It’s not some secret society, Ava. There are no cloak and daggers. You’re done. Up you get.”
“You kept it a secret from me.” She sits on the edge of the bed and rolls her shoulders.
“That’s because I was falling hard and fast in love with you, and it scared me to death to think you would run away from me if you found out.” I rub the cream into my hands. “And you did.”
“It was a bit of a shock. I knew you were experienced, but I didn’t anticipate it was because you owned a sex club that you utilized excessively.” Her face screws up, her disgust back, and I wonder if she’ll ever get past that part of my past.
“Hey.” I crowd her, pushing her down to the bed and reminding her that I am a different man now. One that’s hopelessly in love with her. “Let’s not revisit old news. It’s all about us now, and tomorrow, and the next day, and then the rest of our lives.”
“Okay.” Her smile is glorious. She likes that plan. “Kiss me.”
“I’m sorry. Who has the power?”
“You do.”
“Good girl.” She lurches up, and with one swirl of her tongue, I’m hers and she proves who, in fact, has the power. But, fuck it, I’m pushing time already. I rip our mouths apart. She moans. “I’m ignoring you.” It’ll be game over if I don’t, and I can’t have us both anything less than perfectly together when we see her parents. And, preferably, dressed. “Wear your new cream dress.” I go to the dressing room and find my navy suit and ponder for way too long over what color shirt to wear. I decide to go bold. Not in color but in choice. Pink.
I get dressed and leave Ava in the bedroom. By the look of her current state of readiness, I have a good half hour to make the calls I need to make. Starting with Jay. I want to see the other footage from the bar.
It rings and rings and rings, and I check the time, accepting he’s probably at work. So I leave a message to call me back. I can’t go throwing accusations around, can’t annihilate Van Der Haus, without solid proof. I call John to check in, and to also check something else. “Will you do me a favor?” I ask.
“Depends what it is.”
“Check your phone and see if any messages were sent to Ava last night.”
“What?”
“Ava said she got a message from you saying she should go to The Manor.”
“I sent her no message.” He sounds defensive. “Why the fuck would I tell her to come to The Manor when I know you’re about to either drink of get your sorry arse whipped?”
I tilt my head, palm up. “Exactly.”
There’s a brief silence. Then a rush of air. Realization. “You think—”
“Ava thinks. Did you have your phone with you?”
“I can’t fucking remember. It was a bit of a stressful day. She thinks Sarah texted her from my phone?”
“Do you think she would?” I ask, hating that my gut says yes. I don’t want to believe her cruelty could dip to such lows. I also don’t want to consider the repercussions if it turns out she has.
“I don’t know,” John admits.
“Me neither.”
“Have you seen the message?”
“No. I’m wondering if Ava’s got mixed up.” Like John said, the past day has been a blur. Fuck, the whole weekend. And there’s no denying my head’s spinning—seeing things, hearing my brother. “If it turns out it was her, John, that will be the end, you know that, don’t you?” I’ve given that woman the benefit of the doubt too much. Let things slide because of my loyalty to Carmichael. I can’t leave her with the freedom to destroy what I have with Ava.
“I know that,” he admits reluctantly. I don’t know how we always manage to feel sorry for Sarah. She’s a vindictive bitch. She’s also deeply broken. And that’s probably why I’ve put up with her over the years. Because it was me who broke her.
“Okay, I’ve got to go, I’ve got dinner with Ava’s parents.”
“No shit.”
“Yes shit.” I smile, big and wide, though the miserable fucker can’t see it. “I’m taking your advice.”