More than anything I ever wanted to experience before.
And possibly more than I’m able for.
Ava is ridiculously in tune with my deepest inner thoughts. ‘But you never wanted “more”.’ She wets her lower lip and waits for me to disagree with her, but I can’t.
‘And “more” is all you’ve ever wanted.’ It’s not a question, but yet it is.
She nods. ‘It’s true. I’ve never made a secret of it. I want the kind of relationship my parents have. I want a husband who’s my best friend, but who also wants to bend me over the kitchen counter while the kids are out.’ Water forms in the whites of Ava’s eyes.
‘Kids?’ I check.
‘Yep. I want it all.’
My heartbeats like a drum. ‘And you deserve it all.’
Her head bobs in another nod and the column of her throat flexes as she swallows thickly. ‘But I also want you, Cillian. You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met. Even though you try and hide it behind a façade of being a sullen, scary lawyer, you’re sweet, and kind and tender.’
‘Please don’t ever call me sweet again. Or I’ll have to bend you over and bang you into next Christmas.’
The corner of her mouth angles upwards in a wry smile. ‘At least we can both agree we want “more” of that.’
I trace her lower lip with my thumb. ‘I don’t want to lead you on, but I don’t want to let you go after your brother’s wedding either. I don’t know if I can ever give you what you want. But the thought of another man giving it to you makes me sick to my stomach.’
‘I understand. We come from very different families. Different life lessons.’ She reaches for my hair, tousling it with that tenderness again.
‘Look, Ava, I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Ever. So, the only thing I’m going to promise you is that if you are willing to give this thing between us a go, I’ll try.’
Light flashes in her pupils. ‘You mean, a real relationship?’
I swallow hard. ‘Yes. But can we take it slow? Really slow? We’ve raced to this point in only a couple of weeks, and I’m fucking terrified if we keep up this momentum where we might be in another few.’
‘Okay, baby steps.’ She presses her lips to mine gently, then pulls away. ‘I better put a t-shirt on. If we’re going to take things slowly, we should probably go back to second base, which, I think, means you can feel my boobs over my shirt, but not under.’ Her eyes sparkle with mischief. ‘Tell me if I’m wrong.’
Pushing her onto her back I pin her wrists above her head and nudge myself between her thighs. ‘You’re wrong. The only base we’re going back to is bas-ics. Basic instincts that is. Now open your legs wider. I’m starving for something they don’t serve in the dining room.’
‘Do I seriously have to do this?’ I moan to Beth as she hands me a Santa suit, the winter wind whipping from the beach to my face. Velvet Strand is packed with spectators and racers alike, sporting crimson Santa hats and silly smiles, including many of my staff who are also nursing hangovers this morning.
‘Yes.’ Beth chucks a Santa suit unceremoniously at me. ‘We’re one of the main sponsors of this event.’
‘Precisely!’ I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation. ‘I’ve done enough.’
‘Not as far as your daughter is concerned.’ Beth points to across the street where Matilda’s car is parked. Phoebe’s button nose is pressed up against the foggy window as she peers back at me and waves. My lips crack open with a smile at the sight of my daughter.
‘She can’t wait to see daddy dress up as Santa for the race,’ Beth coos.
‘Why did you have to mention it? She’d have been equally happy to spend the day ice-skating and drinking hot chocolate instead.’
‘Because it’s a family fun day! And I thought it would be nice for her! Besides, Matilda has to go to her son’s birthday later, so I told her to bring Phoebe here. She has met Ava, right?’
Beth knows she has because I spilled my guts about it the second I walked in the office the morning after the Ferris wheel night, agonising over whether meeting a ‘friend’ of Daddy’s could be detrimental to my daughter’s mental health.
Beth assured me it wasn’t, especially given she’s never been introduced to any other female ‘friends’ along the way.
‘What’s wrong? Frightened you’re going to embarrass yourself in front of your girlfriend?’ Beth nods towards a nearby coffee cart where Ava’s ordering her caffeine fix.
I’m about to open my mouth and say “she’s not my girlfriend” when it hits me square in the chest that she is. And it’s one label I’m very comfortable with.
‘Phoebe might buy the ‘friend’ shit – but I saw the way you looked at Ava last night.’ She wiggles her eyebrows. ‘And my room is next to yours.’
