Dinner at Eight-epub (5 page)

He smiled. “I’m not leaving Sydney.” No, he was back home for a reason, and that reason was curled up in bed beside him, clutching his hand. “Promise. The furthest I’m going is Greg’s place.”

“So when will I see you again?” If her voice wasn’t so husky from sleep, she’d almost sound petulant.

“Tomorrow night soon enough?”

“No. But it’s better than nothing.”

“Dinner at eight?”

“Pick me up at seven thirty. I’ll book somewhere just for the two of us.”

Just the two of them
. Fuck knew that was everything Jared wanted.

Cautiously, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. And perhaps he left his lips there a second or two too long, but he couldn’t help himself. The scent of fruit and flowers tickled his nose, making him inhale deep, drawing in her smell. Essence of Ava.

Ava gave a contented sigh. “Thank you for coming home, Jar.”

“Sweet dreams, baby. See you tomorrow.” Even though walking away from her, all wrapped up snug in bed, almost killed him, Jared forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and step out of her room.

He’d be back. Of that he had no doubt.

“You look like shit.”

Greg’s voice jarred Jared out of his morose stupor. “Yeah, didn’t get much sleep last night.” He hadn’t been able to shut his eyes since leaving Ava.

“When’d ya get back?” Greg shoved a cup under the spout of his coffee machine and hit a button.

“About three hours ago.” At four this morning.

“You were with Ava the whole time?”

Jared nodded. The machine gurgled and churned, heating water and crushing beans.

Greg took a seat on the opposite couch and folded his arms across his chest, mirroring his brother’s posture. “And?”

“Fuck.” He brushed a hand over his face—a useless effort to wipe away the exhaustion, frustration and worry.

“Yeah.” Greg grimaced. “I know.”

“You warned me. Still.”

“Worse than you thought?”

“Jesus. What happened to her?” Jared had his suspicions—but he hoped to God he was wrong. Very, very wrong.

“I wish I knew for sure. We’ve asked, but all she’ll say is Anthony was a bastard with a twisted perception of marriage, and that she definitely chose to marry the wrong man. She was sad for a long time, but now she insists she’s fine.” Greg shrugged. “We know she’s not. She’s way better than she was, but she’s not the same Ava she used to be. We speculate about what really happened, but none of us is sure.”

“Tell me about the change again. From start to finish.” Greg had told him, over and over, but he’d never given Jared answers, only left him with more questions.

“She got married.”

Jared’s jaw clenched, his teeth locking together.

Greg shot him an empathetic look before getting up to fetch his coffee.

The marriage had been inevitable. Ava had been completely taken with the
legendary
estate agent, Anthony Howard, from the start. She’d met him at a colleague’s dinner party and spoken rapturously about the charming, clever man with the magic touch when it came to selling houses. When Anthony had opened his own company just a few weeks later and insisted Ava come work with him, she’d been utterly enthralled by her new boss. So enthralled, she’d fallen head over heels in love with him.

Within six months they were engaged, and six months later, married.

Within five minutes of meeting him, Jared determined the guy was a manipulative prick. They’d taken an instant disliking to each other. Anthony was charming, Jared would give him that. He’d treated Ava like a princess, and his friend had glowed under the attention. But damn it, he’d also isolated her from the Dinner Club, encouraging her to spend less and less time with her friends and more time with him. He’d incorporated Ava into his life without taking the time to become part of Ava’s life.

She hadn’t seen it. The golden glow of Anthony’s charm and attention had blinded her to his faults.

Watching her with Anthony had been a dagger in Jared’s gut. She’d been so content, so in love.

“She was fine at the wedding,” Greg said as he settled back down on the other couch. “Happy. Looked like a million bucks.”

Yeah. Jared had seen the pictures. Ava in her elegant tight white gown, the satin and lace molding to every curve on her luscious body, emphasizing the breasts he’d spent long nights fantasizing about. She’d glowed with happiness, her silky mass of hair drawn into a chic twist on her head.

“They went on honeymoon in Fiji for two weeks. When she came home, weeks passed before we saw her, and when we did she was quieter than usual. More reserved. After that?” Greg shrugged and took a sip from his cup. “She was always busy, attending one function or another with Anthony. She came to Dinner Club once, maybe twice in four months. He didn’t. She was okay then. Not great. We all noticed, but Ava insisted she was ecstatic being a wife.” He leaned back in the couch with a sigh.

So, very little had changed after the wedding, apart from Ava becoming even more entrenched in Anthony’s life and less in her own.

“At first we just missed being with her, but after a while, we started to worry. We discussed it all the time. Tried to come up with ways to see her more often. Zoey and Liv arranged shopping trips, girls’ nights out, Saturday lunches. Jimmy sent her a timetable of all his rugby matches. I invited her to dinner at the Big House on a weekly basis.” Their childhood home, named because of its size in comparison with the tiny flat Greg and Jared had moved into when they’d left home. “Levi tried to get her to help him with plot problems. Spence offered to do her taxes.”

Jared’s lips twitched. Classic Spencer. Number crunch until he found a solution.

“None of it helped. She just withdrew from us more and more, and became more entrenched in his life. We didn’t hear from her for weeks. And then there was the phone call.”

Four months after the wedding, Ava phoned Zoey to say she’d left Anthony. Things hadn’t worked out, and she’d gone to stay with her sister in Melbourne for a few days.

The few days had turned into eight weeks.

Theo, Liv and Levi had all traveled to Melbourne during that period, either for business or a weekend away, but none of them had seen Ava. She’d had a valid excuse for missing them each time.

“When she finally came back to Sydney…” Greg gestured helplessly. “She looked different. Her nose. Her clothes. She acted different too. I swear, it took another two months before she’d be in a room alone with me. With any of us men. She’s better now. Comfortable in our presence and more like her old self. Teasing and laughing whenever she’s with us. She’s even protective of us, but tense as hell around other men.” He frowned. “She didn’t laugh for a very long time, Jazz. She hardly smiled.”

Ava’s smile, the sound of her laugher…they were so uniquely Ava, so much a part of her warmth and vitality. Without them, she must have been a shell of herself.

Greg rubbed his hand over his face, much the way Jared had, minutes ago. “Last night? We all wondered how she’d be, alone with you in the car.”

Jared’s stomach knotted. “I thought she was fine, but then…” Fresh horror washed through him. “I touched her. Put my hand on her arm.” He swallowed, hard. “Jesus, Greg. She jumped, as though I’d hit her.”

He locked gazes with his brother, and a long, taut silence stretched out between them.

“Fuck.” Jared sprang off the couch, unable to sit still a second longer. “Tell me he didn’t.”

Greg said nothing.

“Tell me that motherfucker didn’t hurt her.”

Greg’s gaze stayed on him, tracking Jared’s movements as he stalked the length of the room. Greg’s face had paled.

“If he did, if he laid a finger on her, I’ll kill him,” Jared vowed.

“Wait. You don’t know for sure. He hurt her emotionally. But physically…?” Greg wasn’t trying to placate Jared, nor was he making excuses for Anthony. He was just attempting to be the voice of reason, reminding his twin that none of them knew what had happened to Ava.

Jared was beyond reason. “I’ll take him apart, limb by fucking limb.”

Greg’s expression hardened. “If he did hurt her, brother mine, you won’t be the only one.”

No more shrinking away from Jared for Ava. When she opened the door to him at seven thirty, as arranged, she’d straightened her spine, put on her big-girl panties and was prepared for his touch. More than prepared, she melted into it, hugging him before he’d even stretched out his arms.

God, she loved having him home so she could touch him again. Hold him close.

He wrapped her in a gentle embrace, yet held her snug against his body, kissing her forehead tenderly, just like he’d done in the early hours of the morning.

A rush of emotion hit her. Helpless to identify it, she put it down to the happiness she always felt at seeing him. She’d felt that same happiness this morning when he’d kissed her forehead. “Hey, you. I’ve booked a table at Hurricane’s. Figured you’d want to get your teeth into a good steak.”

Jared’s appreciative groan reverberated from his chest into hers, making her laugh. His firm pecs vibrated against her breasts, filling Ava with a curious sensation. She had no idea what that sensation was, just that it was…peculiar.

“You up to walking?” Silly question. Jared would use his feet over his car any day, any excuse to be outdoors. The restaurant was about twenty minutes away on foot, and it was a perfect, early spring evening—balmy and warm with a slight breeze.

“Always. Let’s go.” He gave her just enough time to sling her bag over her shoulder before winding his fingers through hers and tugging her out the door.

Jared sang some unidentifiable song as they walked toward the restaurant, hand in hand, and Ava had to repress her laughter.

Old habits died hard. Jared had always been a singer, happily humming away to whatever tune was on his mind. The problem was, he had a truly terrible voice. It was something his brother ragged him about mercilessly. Jared remained unfazed. He just shrugged off the insults with a smile and sang louder—off key, of course.

His singing reflected what Ava adored most about him: his relaxed attitude. He never sweated the small stuff, least of all his inability to hold a tune or sing the right words.

Jared loved to dance too, and his dance moves were as bad as his singing.

Ava had long ago lost count of the number of times he’d dragged her into his arms to perform some horrendous imitation of a waltz. Or twirled her around to the beat of a song that should never be danced to. While he was gracefully beautiful around animals, he was two left feet and a groaning organ when it came to music.

“Slow down, sunshine,” she teased as they walked hand in hand. At least he wasn’t making her dance with him. “The restaurant’s not going anywhere.”

“I haven’t had a decent steak since I left. I’d run there if I could.”

“And leave me in your dust? Thanks very much.”

“Can I help it if you have the shortest legs in Sydney?”

“My stature has no bearing on my hatred for moving any faster than a gentle stroll.”

“Oh, right. I forgot. Ava Torres, laziest woman in the world.”

She snorted out loud.

Ah, if Jared only knew. Once upon a time that had been the truth. But circumstances had changed. The Ava who had once deemed walking to the car cruel torture could now do a hundred push-ups without breaking a sweat. 

“Puh-lease.” She stared down her nose at him—no easy feat when he stood a good foot taller than she did. “Choosing not to run ten kilometers every morning, like some people I know, come rain or shine, does not make me lazy.”

“Yeah, but sitting on your couch all day eating Ben & Jerry’s does.”

“Hey, I like my ice cream.”

His lips tilted upward. “I might have noticed that.”

“Did you also notice I now have muscles? Everywhere?” She lifted her free arm and flexed her bicep, showing it off.

He looked at her speculatively. “It’s kind of hard to notice anything under that shirt.”

“Oi. What’s wrong with my shirt?”

“Not a thing.” His eyes glinted with evil intent. “If you’re planning on using it as a tent.”

“Hah. Tease as much as you like. You’re just not used to my new style. Long and flowing is all the rage now.”

“In the maternity department?” he deadpanned.

She gasped. “Are you suggesting I look pregnant?”

“A little. But don’t panic. It suits you. You look hot.”

“Ava Torres. Pregnant and hot. Gee, sounds great. Thanks.”

“Hey, you chose the shirt. Not me.”

She waved her hand over her chest. “You’re just upset ’cause you don’t get to see the girls this way.”

“Maybe a bit.” His grin was pure mischief. “They always were the part of you I loved the most.”

“Oh, please,” Ava said, indignant. “You never, ever noticed them, and I showed them to you plenty.”

He shook his head fervently. “Trust me, Torres. I noticed. Every single time I saw you.”

“No,” Ava argued, tickled pink she could laugh about the subject. There wasn’t another man in the world she’d feel comfortable enough with to joke like this. “Last year of high school you didn’t. Seriously. I shoved them in your face just about every day in an effort to get you to notice them—and me—and you hardly blinked.” Lord help her, she’d had such a huge crush on her friend back then.

“The last year of high school? Well,
of course
I didn’t notice them then. I was in lust.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ava huffed. “With Arlene Hemings. Don’t remind me.”

“Remind me.” Jared emitted a blissful sigh. “That girl was the answer to every schoolboy wet dream. She taught me things— Wait
.
Was that…?” Jared stared at her in astonishment. “Was that jealousy I heard in your voice?”

Ava stuck her nose in the air. “Why would I be jealous of Arlene?” So what if she’d had blond locks that bounced around her shoulders, long, tanned legs that went on forever, flirty blue eyes, a sultry smile…and Jared.

“Fuck me. It is. You’re jealous of her.” Jared laughed out loud.