Ava grins. “Listen. Liam’s a good kid. He’s been through a lot, but he’s still just a kid. He doesn’t deserve to have to go to school and bebulliedabout things in life he can’t control. Making fun of his grief is below the belt, Silas, and you need to teach your son some fucking manners.”
She takes another step forward, and the instinct to rush over and pull her away becomes almost intolerable, knowing the risk she’s taking by standing up to this brute of a man. Nearly the entire café is watching their heated discussion unfold, and I’m worried Silas might lash out. But I force myself to stay seated, to let her lead, because this is also one of the things Iloveabout her: her fierce determination to stand up for what’s right. Her total lack of fear.
“Your son had that punch coming, Silas,” Ava continues, “and you and I both know it. This is your chance to raise a young man who treats the people around him better than you did. If I hear that Liam has any further issues with Max, you’ll pay for the thingsyou’vedone and I’ll make sure he learns the lesson anyway. Got it?”
Silas takes a step back, nodding.
“Good.” Ava sighs. And then smiles politely like nothing happened. “Hope you enjoy your lunch!”
Silas, it turns out, doesn’t enjoy anything, because he leaves as soon as Ava turns to stride back to the table. She sinks down into her seat looking quite pleased with herself. I can’t help but grin. “You good?”
She nods. “Always love getting to knock something off the to-do list.”
June comes back around with a tray of plates, looking at Ava with obvious amusement. “I’ve got more dip,” she says, settingthe dish in the middle of the table with a fresh basket of warm bread. “And two burgers. Anything else you two need?”
Ava’s already staring down her burger, licking her lips.
I chuckle. “No thank you, June. This looks amazing.”
She smiles, and then saunters off again.
Ava doesn’t hesitate to pick up her hamburger, taking a giant bite. Her eyes roll back in her head as she chews and . . . dammit. She’s going to make me hard in the middle of this fucking café. “Good?” I husk out, mouth dry as my eyes trace the line of her lips.
“So good,” she moans, and . . .fuck.
I try to discreetly adjust myself under the table. Ava’s been sleeping in my bed since that first night she came in—but it’s been just that: sleeping. My want for her is a constant, physical ache, but I’m trying so hard to navigate this new chance with her in a way that doesn’t spook her. So I let myself drink her in and hang on to every burst of emotion her face conveys with each bite of her food.
“Quit leering, Bennett,” she gripes, eyes squeezed closed with pleasure.
I laugh, picking up my own burger. “I’m honestly a little jealous.”
“Of my burger?” she asks around the large bite she just took.
“Yeah. The things I would do to be that bur?—”
A chair scrapes loudly against the linoleum floor from a table next to us. We both look over to find Nosey Maeve collecting her things as she glares at us. It’s clear she was eavesdropping, but we hardly said anything sinister.
“Hi, Maeve,” Ava says lightly with a small wave. “So nice to see you.”
But the old crone wants no part of Ava’s pleasantries. “That was quite the show you put on for everyone, Ava,” Maeve says,looking utterly unimpressed. “You ran Silas clean out of the building.”
Ava gives her a thousand-watt smile. “So happy to hear you enjoyed it.”
“You’re a married woman now. I’d have thought some of these childish antics would calm down. And you,” she says, pointing her hard stare my way. “You would let your wife fight your battles for you?”
She looks downright scandalized. It takes effort not to laugh in her face. “I mean no disrespect in saying this, ma’am, but my wife likes to fight. It actually turns her on. Who am I to deny her such opportunities?”
Maeve scoffs, and Ava laughs.
“You two might be married, but there’s no hiding your sins under the eyes of God.”
“Jeez, Maeve,” Ava grumbles. “A little dark, even for you.”
Maeve gives Ava a long-suffering look. And then she says, “You really shouldn’t eat red meat that’s not cooked all the way through while you’re pregnant, Ava. Lord help that poor baby of yours.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
AVA
