“Thanks.”
She winked. “Sure.” Her stomach growled and I chuckled.
“I’ll rustle up some sandwiches then we’ll go outside and relax, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
* * *
I carried out a plate of sandwiches and some cold sodas. We sat in the sunshine and ate, not talking much but enjoying the warmth. I opened a bag of chips, and Ava took a handful, munching on them happily.
“I was thinking…” I started, watching her with enjoyment.
She paused, her cheeks full of food. I chuckled and tapped her face. “Squirrel-like behavior. I promise to feed you later, so no need to save a snack.”
She chewed and swallowed, looking mischievous. “I love chips.”
I tilted up the bag, adding more to her plate. “Good. I was thinking we’d throw something on the grill I bought this week if I put it together later, but I’ve got nothing aside from the last of the casseroles your womenfolk brought.”
She snorted. “My womenfolk. I’ll tell them you called them that—they’ll love that.”
“Your Gen Two or whatever. Needless to say, I still have nothing to grill.” I grinned her way. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
“We can eat the Chinese food.”
“Ah, Little Dragon, we finished that off in the middle of the night. You were ravenous.”
She ducked her head with a small laugh. “Right. You were as well, if I recall correctly.”
“For something totally different, yes. I ate to keep up the strength you kept depleting with your sexual demands.”
She burst out laughing, tilting back her head, the sable color of her hair catching the light. I joined in her amusement.
“So, we’ll head to the store and grab something. I can pick up a few things for next week while we’re at it. You can too,” she said when she stopped laughing.
I scratched my head. “Like grocery shop together?”
She rolled her eyes. “Would you prefer if I went alone? I’ll grab a few groceries I need at the same time.”
“No, you’re right.”
“Okay, we can go to Grimsby later. There’s a bigger grocery store, and it’s never busy Saturday in the early evening. We’ll get a few things and grill whatever strikes our fancy later since we just ate the sandwiches.”
I tamped down the feeling of worry. It was a grocery store. What could happen at a grocery store?
* * *
“What’s the matter?” Ava asked from her perch on the steps.
I looked up from the small grill I was assembling. After lunch, she’d opened her book, enjoying a little relaxing time in the sun while I put together the grill. I had music playing in the background, humming under my breath as I worked. It was fairly easy, but the one piece was proving stubborn.
“This gas connector is refusing to cooperate,” I grumbled. “It’s an odd angle to get to.”
She set aside her book and strolled over, peering over my shoulder. “Tight space,” she agreed. “Your hands are too big.”
I smirked up at her. “You know what they say about big hands and feet, Little Dragon.” I winked and leered at her.
Laughing, she pushed me aside. “Yeah. Large gloves and shoes. They both match your ego.”
Chuckling, I moved away. She bent and slipped her hand into the tight space and, a moment later, lifted her arm in triumph. “Ta-da!”
Without thinking, I spun her and dragged her to my chest, then kissed her. She flung her arms around my neck, enthusiastically returning my caresses. It surprised me how natural it felt—holding her in my arms, kissing her in the sunshine. Teasing her, laughing. Even working on a simple project as she read quietly in the background. I experienced no tension, no feelings of unease or that she was invading my solitude. I enjoyed having her with me—yet another surprise since I usually preferred to be alone. But somehow, her sitting on the porch, Cash lying on the grass, tunes filling the air, and me puttering around, felt easy and right. As if we’d done this a hundred times before. It was comfortable. It felt like—home?
That word drifting through my mind brought me up short. Home was a concept I didn’t understand. I’d lived many places—far too many to count. Dwelled in apartments, houses, all sorts of horrid places—some worse than others. But they had all been a place to sleep, to escape the outside world. They had never been home.
But then again, Ava had never been there.
That thought stopped me cold. I lifted my head from Ava’s tempting mouth and stepped back.
“What?” she asked, sounding breathless. Her hair moved in the breeze, fluttering around her shoulders, the sun catching the purple streaks. Her eyes glimmered in the sunlight, the color swirling and mixing the way it always did. I never knew what hue to expect, although I was slowly realizing the shade of her pupils seemed to match her mood. Right now, they were a soft green, relaxed and at ease.