Dinner at Eight-epub (7 page)

Her chest heaved unevenly, and her eyes were fixed on his face, her mouth set in a stern line. From the tightness in her jaw, he guessed her teeth were clenched together.

“One taste of you short-circuited my mind. I just wanted more. I’m sorry for not checking with you first.” Adrenaline pounded his system. Whether the rush was brought on by the wonder of kissing Ava or the shock of her reaction, he had no idea. All he knew was he had to work double as hard as usual to hold still.

The last thing he needed to do now was startle her.

“Av?”

No answer. Not that he really expected one.

“The idea of your hand on my balls has been a regularly featured fantasy for years, but the footpath outside a block of flats probably isn’t the best place to live out said fantasy.”

Her grip lessened not at all.

“Okay, I’m good with outside a block of flats. Hell, I’m good with you touching me anywhere. But maybe loosen your hold just a bit?”

Still no response.

Maybe humor would work. “Or, I don’t know, rub instead of squeeze?”

Ava released him abruptly, stepping back.

He breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Don’t be a pig, Thurston.” She whirled away, giving him her back as she marched off. 

“Wait.” He strode to catch up, keeping his tone light. “You had me by the balls, but I’m the pig?”

She pressed her lips together and didn’t answer.

“Quite some moves you’ve got there, Torres. You almost ended my ability to have children.”

“Shut up, Jared.” The words were choked.

“Av.” He dropped the lightness from his tone. “I’m joking. That’s all. Trying to defuse the situation.” Things had gotten both tense and intense, very fast, and if he had the ability, he’d kick his own ass for letting issues get so out of hand.

Ava just increased the speed and size of her paces.

She moved more quickly than Jared would have thought possible—just like Gheeri, when the leopard perceived danger in her surroundings. When she perceived
him
to be a danger.

The thought of Ava perceiving him as dangerous tore a hole through his chest.

“I just want to talk, that’s all. Clear the air between us.”

She shook her head in a silent no. Only she wasn’t that silent. A muffled sob echoed through the air.

Reality hit him like a slap across the face. She was crying. Tears streaked down her cheeks. Pain ripped through his gut. “Ava.”

“Leave me alone. Please.” She walked ahead of him.

“I can’t.” He kept pace. “I don’t want to.”

“I want you to. I
need
you to.”

“No. You need to stop running and talk to me. Tell me why you’re so upset.”

Again she shook her head, but this time her sob wasn’t silent.

“Ava.” Her name was torn from his lips. “Christ, stop. Please. Let me talk to you. Let me hold you.”

His words went unacknowledged.

“I won’t hurt you, baby. I swear, I’d never hurt you.” It came out as a harsh, heartfelt whisper. He was desperate to engage her, to comfort and reassure her.

Ava’s steps slowed until she came to a stop. She dropped her head in her hands.

Jared circled to face her, leaving enough space between them that she could run if she needed to. “No matter what happens, I would never hurt you. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”

Her shoulders heaved in time with the sound of her sobs.

“Come here. Come to me.” He held his arms out, keeping his hands open, visible if she looked. “Let me hold you. Comfort you.”

“Jared…”

“Believe me. Believe I’d never harm you.”

“I do.” She stared at him, her face ravaged with tears.

“Show me.” God, he ached for her. “Please.”

Jared said no more after that, waiting instead. Giving her the time and space to respond. He held his breath, frightened that even the smallest sound might scare her.

And Ava walked right into his arms.

He released that pent-up breath in a ragged sigh. As Ava touched her head to his chest, he wrapped her against his body, holding her loosely in his embrace. It wasn’t enough.

“Can I hold you tighter? Pull you in closer?”

“I… I’d like that.”

Jared tugged her in, holding her as close as he dared. For the first time since his lips had touched hers, he found his lungs functioning properly again. He rested his chin on the top of her head and ran his hand along the length of her hair, up and down, soothing the woman he loved. “I’m sorry I frightened you.”

“I’m sorry I panicked.” Her voice was thick with tears. “I…know you’d never hurt me.”

Never. Not in a million years. And yet she’d still felt threatened.

With each moment that passed, Jared’s suspicions about Anthony increased, as did his fury. The bastard had hurt Ava.

Jared had never experienced a murderous rage, but he was coming close now. God help Anthony if Jared—or his brother, or any of the Dinner Club, for that matter—ever got their hands on him.

For long moments they stood there, shrouded in silence. Jared struggled to keep his wrath under control, anger and disgust for her ex boiling in his veins. He had no proof, and his rage would only scare the woman he loved, so he shoved it aside, focusing on his desire to hold and protect her.

“I know you won’t believe me,” she murmured quietly when her tears had subsided and her breath had evened out, “but I…I liked your kiss.”

Jared closed his eyes against a rush of emotion. “I liked it too.” So damn much.

She kept her face burrowed against his chest. “Do you think, maybe, we could try it again sometime?”

He laughed softly. “I think we might be able to arrange it.” He’d kiss her all day, every day given the opportunity. “Do you think, maybe, the next time we try it, we do so without the death grip on my balls?”

“Um, about that…”

Jared waited, but Ava said no more on the matter. Her shoulders, however, grew rigid.

He refused to let the tension to build between them again. They’d already gone through the wringer once. That was enough. “It’s all good, Torres. You were only protecting yourself.” One day he’d like to feel that firm grip again—just without her fear and the menacing intent. “Now how about we get to Hurricane’s before they give our table away? I’m starving.”

“You still want to have dinner with me? Even if I’m acting a little crazy?”

“Were you not paying attention earlier? I always want to spend time with you. Even when you’re acting crazy.”

Ava finally looked up at him. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About loving me?”

He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Every word of it.”

She frowned. “And you say I’m acting crazy.”

“You are acting crazy.” He smiled at her. “But I still love you.”

Ava didn’t return the smile. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Love me.”

“Too late.”

“No, Jar, craziness aside, I’m telling you, don’t love me. Don’t be in love with me. I-I have nothing to offer in return. I stopped believing in love and fairy tales and happy ever afters a year ago. I tried it once. Went the distance, gave it everything I had to give, and it almost killed me.”

Jared hated her choice of words. “I’m not Anthony. Whatever he did, however he hurt you, I would never do that.”

She shook her head. “It’s not about him. Not anymore. This is about me. I can’t do it, I just don’t have the capacity to love again.”

Bull. Shit.

Ava had an endless capacity to love. The strong friendships she’d forged over the years and her close family bonds were evidence of that. Hell, it might be platonic, but she loved him too. If she didn’t, she’d never try to warn him off her.

Obviously it was romantic love that scared her. If Anthony had hurt her physically, then her fear was justified. She’d equate romantic love with pain and suffering.

But it was just like Jared had told her. He wasn’t Anthony. He wouldn’t harm her. More than that, he was a patient man. If it took forever to convince Ava she was capable of falling in love again, he’d be right beside her for the entire journey.

If she’d give him the chance, he’d give her the true fairy tale—complete with her very own happy ever after.

Damn it, he’d give her the world if he could.

Rather than fight her on the matter, Jared conceded. “I’ll consider myself warned. Now, move your butt, woman. There’s a steak with my name on it and a reservation that’s not going to wait for us.”

Dinner was remarkably pleasant. They walked to the restaurant in half silence, Jared seemingly content to leave Ava to her thoughts. He sang his tuneless songs most of the way. But once they were seated—a good half an hour late—he began chatting like…well, like they were old friends.

It was as though nothing groundbreaking had transpired between them. As though she’d never blabbed about her childhood crush and he’d never confessed his adult love.

He laughed away her awkwardness about grabbing his balls and made light of the kiss that had almost blown her mind. Jared behaved the way he always did around her. Teasing, talking, smiling and genuinely enjoying her company.

She told him about her new cookie shop, and he regaled her with stories about his time overseas, spoke at length about the animals and the refuge and discussed the three interviews he’d already set up for work.

When they arrived back at her place, Jared refused her invitation to come in, pleading exhaustion. He left her at the open front door with a peck on the check, promising to see her during the week.

While his behavior should have reassured Ava that everything was normal between them, it didn’t. She was a wreck.

She’d almost attacked Jared. Grabbed his balls in warning. Had he not sweet-talked her out of her terrified stupor, she might well have done him damage. Thank God he’d taken it with a pinch of salt. Though why he had, Ava wasn’t sure.

Then there was that kiss, which had totally knocked out her sense of gravity.

For close to a year, Ava had told herself she’d never get involved with another man. She’d sworn off love and romance and sex, and all the other bits that came with a relationship.

She hadn’t experienced a physical urge in all that time. The thought of being touched or kissed intimately left her cold. Sex was so far out of her realm of probability or desire, she’d welcomed the prospect of never diving into bed with a man again.

Sex led to intimacy, intimacy led to love and love led to pain.

Ava wanted no part of any of it.

Yet she’d welcomed Jared’s kiss. Anticipated it—and returned it. She’d opened her lips to him, inviting his tongue inside, and responded with a burst of lust she’d long believed herself incapable of.

Then he’d startled her, crushing his lips to hers, and she’d reacted on instinct, nipping his passion in the bud. Cue the unpleasant testicles incident.

Self-defense strategies aside, that kiss had stirred something in her. Reminded her that she was a woman with very basic needs. And those needs had not subsided with the end of the kiss and her attack.

Dinner had assuaged her hunger. A cocktail had quenched her thirst—and helped with the trembling in her hands. But nothing eased the throbbing in her pussy. The same throbbing that had pulsed to life when Jared slid his tongue into her mouth.

Eleven years ago, she’d have killed for Jared’s kiss, but she’d been a kid. A lifetime had passed since then. So why now, when desiring Jared was about the furthest thing from her mind, and his kiss had thrown up every guard she had, did she silently ache with the need to share another kiss with him? Her friend.

She checked Liv’s room, hoping to find her flat mate home, but of course she wasn’t. She was spending the night upstairs at Jimmy’s. Pity. Some girl talk would have been a good distraction.

Listless, she turned to the kitchen. A tub of ice cream would help.

Only it didn’t. Ava’s appetite was not for dessert.

Perhaps a shower would wash away her desire?

No luck there. The pounding of warm water made her skin tingle, and the slip and slide of her soapy hands only exacerbated its sensitivity. With a frustrated cry, Ava turned off the taps and dried off.

Slipping on her favorite T-shirt, the one softened with wear, she climbed into bed and flipped on the telly, searching the channels for something to watch. A movie rerun caught her eye, and she tried to lose herself in the story.

She couldn’t. All she could think about was the T-shirt. She slept in it so often, Liv teased her that it had become her second skin. It was, of course, too big to fit like a second skin and long enough that it fell down to her knees. The Quiksilver logo on the front had faded almost to invisibility from repeated washes.

The shirt was Jared’s.

He’d lent it to her after a rainstorm, and Ava had never given it back. She’d forgotten all about it, until months later, when she’d returned to her flat—after Anthony had moved out. Lonely, defeated and miserable, she’d come across it in the back of her wardrobe.

Putting it on had somehow made her feel less alone and closer to Jared, as though wearing it narrowed the miles between them.

Tonight, the shirt didn’t offer its usual comfort. It clung to her body, rubbing against her skin—already sensitized by water and soap. And though she knew it was insane, not to mention impossible, she swore she smelled Jared’s aftershave on it.

The feel and the scent drove her crazy. With a frustrated wheeze, she pulled off the shirt and tossed it to the floor.

It didn’t help. The scent still clung to her.

Maybe it was in her hair. She’d been wrapped in his arms, her head pressed against his chest. He’d kissed her. His aftershave could certainly have rubbed off on her.

Complicating matters, the soft cotton of the doona now rasped over her bare chest, teasing her breasts. They were heavier than usual, her nipples hard, and each time she moved, the brush of cotton over them made her want to groan.

Liv wasn’t in the flat. Ava could moan out loud, and no one would hear.

The thought was somehow…liberating. She arched her back, deliberately brushing against the doona cover and gasped at the resultant prickle of excitement.