Page 97 of Reckless Love

“I wasn’t sure.”

That admission slices across me, sharp and painful. He thought I could have hidden his child from him? I don’t know what I would have done if the DNA results had come back with Stephen as the father. “I would never have lied to you about something so important.”

“It’s maybe the one thing I wouldn’t have been able to forgive you for,” he says.

“You avoided me? When you came back? Even though I was the reason you returned?” My throat feels full and tight with emotion.

“You had your fairy-tale ending, even if it broke my fucking heart to hear about it. I sure as hell didn’t need to see it.”

“My marriage has never been hearts and flowers. Never. Not once. We were a business arrangement masquerading as a family. Created by logic, not love.”

“You did choose it, Ava.”

I grow quiet, cuddled up next to him, because he’s right. There are all kinds of things I can say about how crushed I felt when he left, but that doesn’t change the choices I made. Maybe that makes me weak and selfish, but that’s who I was. Maybe that’s who I still am—a woman who doesn’t deserve someone like Stephen Foster. But if I can help it, I’m not giving him up, giving him back.

“I’m making different choices this time,” I say, “and I don’t want you to treat me like glass anymore.” With my fingers, I tilt his chin to face me.

He gives an almost imperceptible nod, and then he tugs me on top of him. His hands dig into my hair, but when he draws me into a kiss, it’s gentler than I like.

“Stephen,” I plead.

He lets out a little chuckle. “You’re still mending, baby. So we can do this, but we do it my way.”

“I’m okay with a bit of pain for some pleasure.”

“Someday soon, I won’t love you like you’re fragile—I’ll love you like you’re fire, and I’m not afraid to get burned.”

“Maybe we can settle on a first-degree burn tonight?” I ask, kissing him and then drawing back. “What do you say, Officer Foster?”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Stephen

Abetter man would say “no,” tell her she’s still healing, that being intimate wouldn’t be right. And I’ve been that man since she got out of the hospital. Caring. Cautious.

But I can’t even say with certainty that she’s the only one I’ve been protecting. Because the thing about Ava Tucker that’s always been true is that when she’s mine, she’s mine. This in-between is new. She might intend to divorce Raul, but she hasn’t yet, hasn’t even started the process yet. We haven’t made any real promises to each other.

Up until this moment, that volatility has made me keep some distance, however small. I might have told her I’d burn with her and have no regrets, but that’s a lie.

Every day, we grow a little closer, inch back to what we once were. The same but different. Nothing about us feels toxic this time, at least not yet.

Part of me isn’t sure I’ll get the happily ever after I’ve always wanted. We’re very far from any kind of guarantee. In this house, I’ve caught glimpses of the family unit the three of us could be if every decision domino hits just right. Luck has never fallen in my direction like that.

Landon won’t be mine. Raul will fight the divorce with every resource he has. Ava will decide Landon and her company come before whatever this is with me. Those all feel like logical outcomes. Likely outcomes.

So if I can have another chance at the kind of joy I only feel with her, even if it doesn’t last, even if it breaks my heart again, I’m not saying no.

There will never be another Ava Tucker. Never be another moment like this one, right now, with her. Whatever I get, I get, and I won’t get upset.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I murmur against her temple. “But you can do whatever makes you feel good. I want you to feel good.”

“I get to be in charge?” A hint of teasing.

“You’ve always been in charge, even if you didn’t know it.” But she did. She always knew. My heart’s been hers from the start, and I’ve got no problem giving up my body to her now.

“You’ve definitely been the one in charge this time,” she says, kissing along my neck and then my jaw until she reaches my lips.

I’m not. Not even a little. When she kisses me, I deepen it, slide my hand along the back of her neck, drawing her closer. There’s no such thing as close enough, even when I’m buried inside her. Desire for her is a wildfire in my veins.