An Unlikely Bride (Lucas & Ava)

I gasp. “You can’t do that!”

“Watch me.”

“He’s your family.”

“My family is you. And anyone who tries to make you feel unwelcome or unwanted can go straight to hell.”

He pulls me down for another kiss. Even as I slowly submerge into the heady pleasure, I make a mental note: I have to mend things with Blake.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Lucas

I wish Ava would call in sick. It’d be perfectly acceptable, since everyone at the hospital knows she fainted on Friday. But then if she did, she wouldn’t be the woman I fell in love with.

She only has a cup of coffee—no time for a full breakfast, since we spent way too much time savoring each other in the morning—and that makes me frown. I should’ve budgeted our time better.

“Don’t,” she says, knowing exactly why I’m unhappy. “I’m perfectly fine with coffee. I’ll grab an energy bar on the way in, and if I’m still hungry, I’ll have early lunch. I promise.”

She kisses me lightly on the mouth, but it’s the promise to eat that mollifies me. I hate the idea of her being hungry. She grew up that way, and she should never have to re-experience it.

Ava puts on the gorgeous red Dior dress and matching pumps I had the concierge buy. The silk skims her body just so, and I can’t help but lick my lips as my cock swells.

“No,” she says at my undoubtedly lustful expression. “We’ve had enough the past twenty-four hours, and I’ve got the soreness to prove it.”

I smirk.

“We can hang out after work, but you are not going to make me late.” She kisses me again and walks out before I can pull her down in my lap.

At least we had hot shower sex. My blood heats at the memory of her cries echoing around the bathroom.

I check out around ten thirty and try to call Faye, but she doesn’t pick up. I text her to meet with me for lunch at an elegant Italian bistro she likes. Normally I won’t go to these lengths to break things off, but Faye is a friend, and I feel slightly guilty for having to end things lik

e this.

If she’s your true friend, she’ll be happy for you.

Except…friends don’t use friends, even if they volunteered.

My phone vibrates. Got it, Faye’s text says.

I text Rachel to find a suitable place for me to move into ASAP. Something spacious with great security. At least two full baths, with a tub big enough for two adults. Three bedrooms, but only one with a bed, preferably with strong, sturdy boards. The other two should be converted to home offices. Just in case Ava brings work home. She’ll look totally sexy typing away on her laptop. How long will her focus last if I sit between her knees? That’ll be a fun experiment to try.

After giving Rachel instructions, I head to the bistro. Faye took me to the place about six years ago when we were together. She thought it her duty to introduce me to all the great things in the world, including L.A.’s finer dining options.

Faye is already waiting when I get there. Our table is by the window and intimately small. Thick, white cloth covers the top, a pretty pink and yellow rose centerpiece adding to the romantic mood.

She’s dressed in a shimmery golden wrap-dress that flows over her like liquid metal. Her black hair frames her delicate, smiling face in waves, and from the way her amber eyes shine with expectation, she believes the lunch will go very differently from what I’ve planned.

Damn it.

Just then a love aria, “Che gelida manina,” soars from the sound system, wrapping around me like the proverbial wet blanket. I curse myself for choosing this particular venue. I should’ve picked a casual café with no romantic vibe.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hi.” I take my seat, smoothing down my black V-neck shirt. “Have you ordered?”

“Not yet. I just got here.”