With This Man (This Man 4)

Ava looks up at me in question. I shake my head, returning to the counter and pulling Ava with me. I throw my order at the server, beginning to shake with the strength it’s taking not to fly off the deep end. What the fuck is she playing at? Jesus, if Ava were herself, Sarah would probably be swimming in every coffee my wife could find and throw at her.

‘Who is she?’ Ava asks.

‘It’s not important,’ I all but snap, tossing a tenner on the counter and swiping up our drinks.

‘Then why are you all bristly and mad?’

‘I’m not.’ I place her hot chocolate in one hand and take her other, pulling her on, though she puts up a fight, trying to wrench herself from my grip. Damn her!

‘Jesse, let go of me.’

I do, but only because I don’t want to hurt her. Though my relinquished hold causes her to stumble back again, and in the process of saving her from tumbling to the floor, I send our drinks there instead. ‘Ava, damn it, be careful with yourself!’ I kick the cups aside and thank everything holy that she has leather trousers on, protecting her skin from the hot spray.

‘Who is she?’ Ava demands, standing firm, her eyes jumping from me to Sarah, completely ignoring the mess at our feet. ‘I don’t have a good feeling about her. Tell me.’

Jaw tight, I damn her to hell and back in my head. ‘We’re leaving,’ I grate, thrusting my hand to the door. ‘Now, Ava, or so help me God.’

She snorts and turns towards Sarah. ‘Who are you?’ she asks.

Sarah glances at me, absolutely perplexed, though once again she completely disregards my threatening look. ‘My name’s Sarah.’

Ava’s body language changes in a nanosecond. She’s now bristling as much as me. ‘Sarah?’ Her eyes cast to mine. ‘Your friend, Sarah? Your uncle’s girlfriend who’s in love with you?’ If I wasn’t in such a pickle right now, I’d appreciate the fact that my wife clearly isn’t happy about this. She looks fuming mad. ‘The woman who whipped you?’

Sarah, wary, steps back, so obviously confused by what’s transpiring.

‘Just go, Sarah. Now,’ I warn before it gets nasty, because God knows my wife is perfectly capable. Her spunk has only grown with her age. It’s had to, if only to handle me.

Shoulders falling in defeat, Sarah finally turns and leaves the coffee shop, and I brace myself for the wrath of my wife. ‘You said she wasn’t in our lives any more. Not even in the country.’

‘She wasn’t.’

‘So are you telling me I’ve lost my mind as well as my memory? That I imagined that?’ Her hand shoots towards the door that’s slowly closing behind Sarah’s back.

‘She showed up last week,’ I confess. ‘I didn’t get a chance to tell you.’

She laughs, and it’s full of sarcasm. ‘It wouldn’t matter if you did, would it? Because I wouldn’t fucking remember now, would I?’

‘Watch your damn mouth, Ava.’ For God’s sake, it’s getting pottier.

A member of the café staff appears with a bucket and mop, looking at us nervously. I step out of the puddle of coffee and claim Ava.

‘Get your hands off me,’ she spits, shrugging me off and hobbling on. I sigh and follow. Now would be a good time for a Reminder Fuck. Just to remind her of her place.

I keep a safe distance behind her, not too far in case she staggers or trips again, as I follow her back across the park where we left my bike. I can see with each step she’s getting slower, and her limp is more obvious. Though my stubborn little temptress won’t ask for help. Tough. She’s getting it. I pick up my pace and overtake her, dipping in invitation, rather than manhandling her into my hold in my usual fashion. She climbs straight onto my back, no question. ‘I’m only accepting because my leg is hurting,’ she mutters. ‘I’m still not talking to you.’

I roll my eyes to myself. ‘Fine.’

‘Why didn’t you bloody tell me?’ she yells in my ear, making me flinch and wince and close my eyes. ‘It’s bad enough that I can’t remember a thing, and now I have to worry about someone trying to steal my husband?’

‘No one is going to steal your husband,’ I say. Stupid woman. ‘Sarah means nothing to me. Never has.’

‘You clearly mean something to her. What does she want? Why is she here?’

‘Ava,’ I sigh, thoroughly done with this conversation. But through my thick skin, I get that she’s feeling vulnerable. It’s my job to reassure her. ‘Unravel your knickers.’

She completely ignores me, ranting on. ‘And are there any more witches ready to try and get their claws into you?’

‘Ava, will you leave it?’ I’m not growling, but I’m pretty damn close. Keep your cool, Jesse. Keep your cool.

‘No. How am I supposed to know who to fight off if I can’t remember any of them? You need to tell me.’

Of all the things I want to remind her about, that isn’t one. Besides, it would take too fucking long. I haven’t the energy. ‘I said, drop it.’

‘And I said no. What am I sup—’

I stop, lower her, and pull her around my body so we’re front to front, grabbing her cheeks. I catch her gasp of shock in my mouth when I kiss her hard, shutting her the hell up. I’m distracting her. Resorting to desperate tactics. It’s something I won’t apologise for. Besides, it seems she rather likes kissing me. Thank God. I lift her from her feet and continue walking, never dropping her lips. All the way back to my bike. ‘It was a lovely afternoon. Don’t let anything spoil it.’ We have far more important things to deal with than Sarah or any ex. ‘Please.’

Her face twists, her energy obviously wiped from the exertion of stressing, and her forehead falls to my chest. I cup the back of her head and massage into her hair, avoiding the site of her cut. ‘I’m tired,’ she moans.

And I feel guilty. I’ve pushed her too much. I take her helmet and gently push it onto her head, wondering if it would be unreasonable for me to demand she and the kids wear helmets while driving in the future. After the accident, nothing I demand to ensure their safety should be unreasonable, and she’d better accept that. ‘Come on. You need to eat.’

I snap her visor down and plant a kiss on it before helping her onto the bike.

Chapter 21

I take her to a small bistro not far from our health club. She’s obsessed with the eggs Benedict here, has been for years. So that’s what I ordered her. But she’s hardly touched a damn thing, picking and poking at the food on her plate. ‘Eat,’ I demand.

‘I’m really not hungry.’ She drops her fork and pushes her full plate away before falling back on the chair.

My lips twist in displeasure. I’ll force-feed her if I have to. I don’t care where we are. ‘Here.’ I grab her fork and load it with some egg, holding it across the table to her. ‘Eat.’

Eyes sulky, her jaw tight, she moves back some more. ‘I’m not hungry.’

‘And I’m not in the mood for your defiance.’ My head cocks in warning. ‘Eat.’

‘No.’

‘God damn it, Ava, you need to keep up your energy.’ I make a racket scraping my chair across the floor with me still sitting in it, so I’m beside her, closer, ready to pry her tight lips open to get this food inside her.

‘Why? To deal with your unreasonable arse?’

I’d laugh if I wasn’t so fucking livid. ‘Don’t make me ask you again.’ I can feel myself starting to twitch in my seat. Today started so well, and now she’s ruining it with something so silly as refusing to eat. Why can’t she just fucking behave?

‘What are you gonna do? Give me the countdown?’ She blinks a few times, and then frowns.

‘Yes, I would,’ I confirm, and she snorts indignantly. I drop my head, trying to cool the building irritation. Jesus, I’m getting too old for this shit. She’s being defiant for the sake of it, to prove a point. ‘Ava.’ I look at her, ready to off-load every detail

of her punishment when she’s well, but my intended threats all die on my tongue when I spot something over the road. I crane my neck, zooming in. John’s sitting outside a café up the street. He must be taking a break from the club.

I toss a few twenties on the table and claim a bewildered Ava from her chair. ‘This time, you got off. It won’t happen again.’ I walk us to my bike. ‘Wait here for me.’

‘Why, where are you going?’

‘There’s someone over there I need to have a quick word with. Stay put.’ I pass her helmet and jog off. ‘Hey, John!’ I call.

His body goes rigid all of a sudden. Then he slowly looks over his shoulder, and I see worry on his face. ‘Everything okay?’ I ask when I make it to him, rounding the table until I’m facing him.

‘Yeah. What are you doing here?’ He’s shifting in his chair, his huge body all nervous. Something isn’t right.

‘I took Ava for lunch over the road.’

‘So where is she?’

I take a seat, resting my elbows on the table. ‘Waiting for me. I just saw Sarah.’

He slowly removes his shades, revealing dangerous eyes. ‘Tell me she didn’t seek you out.’ His nerves are gone, and now anger is apparent, his eyes blazing. It makes me smile on the inside, his loyalty and worry never faltering.

‘We bumped into her in a coffee shop.’

‘We?’

‘Yes, me and Ava. Of course, my wife didn’t recognise her until Sarah introduced herself.’ My mouth twists, as does John’s. ‘You didn’t tell her about Ava’s accident?’

‘Not my news to tell. You know that woman. Give her an inch . . .’

I laugh under my breath. Sometimes you didn’t even have to give her an inch. I gave her nothing, and she took a mile. Hundreds of them, in fact. ‘Well, she knows something is amiss, so expect to be questioned.’

John tosses his glasses on the table, annoyed. ‘And what do you want me to tell her?’

‘To stay away,’ I reply. ‘I don’t care what else you tell her, but enforce that bit.’

John nods, and then looks past my shoulder, prompting me to look, too. Ava is approaching, her limp now worse. Guilt racks me. ‘You’d better go,’ John says.

‘Anyone would think you’re trying to get rid of me.’ I push myself up from the seat and turn towards Ava when she makes it to us. ‘I’m sorry, baby. I’m just coming.’

‘How are you doing, girl?’ John asks.

She doesn’t answer, just moves closer to my side and looks up at me, searching for . . . I don’t know. Then it occurs to me. Of course. ‘This is John,’ I say, motioning to his massive body in the small metal chair. ‘He’s my oldest friend. He works at the club.’

‘Nice to meet you.’ Her words are quiet, tinged with an awkwardness that John doesn’t miss, and I feel her flinch beside me. I look down and search her face. She looks a bit spaced out. And tired. So tired.

‘I need to get Ava home.’ I wrap an arm around her shoulders and start leading her away. ‘Everything ticking over okay at the club?’

‘S’all good.’ He slips his shades back on, and I realise I never did ask what he’s doing sitting outside a café on his own. And with no drink?

I’m about to ask when a woman comes breezing out of the café with a tray, heading straight towards my friend. John shoots to his feet, pulling out the chair opposite him.

‘Oh, thank you,’ the woman gushes, flashing him a bright smile as she takes her seat. ‘They didn’t have lemon cake, so I got you scones.’ Her hair is a vivid shade of pink and pinned up wildly, her skirt long and floaty, her chunky-knit cardigan oversized. She looks perhaps early sixties, her face bright and cheery. I now notice the café, too. It’s quaint, the tables old, distressed wood, the chairs industrial. And a little tin plant pot sits in the centre of the table with heather bursting out of the top. How romantic.

‘Thank you.’ John smiles, too, a big gold-toothed smile. What is this? Is what I think is happening actually happening? I take in the scene: him . . . and a woman. I have never, not ever, seen the big bloke with a lady. Ever.

I can feel the big kid in me rising to the surface, my need to tease him strong. He’ll probably slug me one on the chin, but . . .

‘Jesse?’ Ava tugs on my arm. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ I tell her, guiding her back towards the table. ‘But I’m probably going to be launched into orbit by John’s fist.’ My smile’s so big it hurts.

‘Why?’

‘Because he’s with a woman.’

‘That’s not his wife?’

‘Oh no.’ I laugh. ‘He’s never had one of those. No woman, in fact. Hey, big man,’ I say chirpily when we arrive by their table.

He grunts, reaching for his wraparounds and pulling them from his face again, giving me clear sight of his eyes and indication of his mood: prickly.

‘You going to introduce us to your friend?’ I cast my friendly, way-over-the-top smile onto his companion. ‘I’m Jesse.’ I extend my hand, and she’s quick to stand and take it.

‘Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you.’ She shakes enthusiastically, her spare hand cupping our joined hands. ‘I’m Elsie.’

‘What a pleasure, Elsie. Any friend of John’s is a friend of mine. This is my wife, Ava.’ Releasing Elsie’s hand, I pull Ava in some more as she smiles a small smile at Elsie.

‘Nice to meet you.’

The sympathetic look on Elsie’s face tells me she knows Ava’s situation. ‘And you, Ava.’

‘So how did you two meet?’ I ask, getting a glimpse of John’s gold tooth on his snarl. I’ve never seen the big guy so hostile. And nervous. It’s a novelty.

‘Oh.’ Elsie giggles and takes her seat, reaching across the table and patting John’s hand. The big man is shrinking in his chair, and that just ramps up my curiosity. ‘I swore I’d never go on one of those dating website things, but I’m glad my friend talked me into it, else I would never have met John.’

I swallow, nearly taking my tongue with it. ‘A dating website?’ I splutter. John refuses to look at me. ‘You never said.’

Slowly, his gaze lands on me with evil intentions. He doesn’t have to speak a word. I’m copping it as soon as Elsie is out of the way. I can see a million threats in his narrowed eyes, all aimed at me.

Ava must sense his animosity, because she starts tugging my hand. ‘Let’s leave them to it.’

‘Thank you, girl,’ John rumbles, eyes still on me. His are dangerous. Mine are dancing.

‘We’ll join you for a coffee.’ I pull out a chair for Ava, having way too much fun watching the impenetrable big man squirm in his seat. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Elsie?’

‘Of course not!’ She moves her patchwork bag off the table. ‘How lovely to get to know some of John’s friends.’

The way John’s looking at me, I can tell he’s planning my demise. It’ll be slow and painful. And it doesn’t put me off one little bit.

I encourage Ava down into the chair, but she resists, somewhat reluctant. Maybe Elsie senses it, too, because she hops in and takes Ava’s hand. ‘I was saying to John,’ she begins, smiling across the table at him. ‘I own a well-being centre. Meditation, yoga, that kind of thing. It might help you, Ava. To relax the mind and find some inner calm during this difficult time.’ Her friendly face softens even more on my wife. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying so.’

I nod thoughtfully to myself. Elsie looks like the bohemian type – all mind, body and soul. But the only relaxing my wife needs to do should involve me. ‘That’s—’

‘You really think so?’ Ava interrupts. ‘Because therapy isn’t doing a thing.’

‘Why, yes!’ Elsie looks excited by the prospect of helping Ava. ‘Meditation could be the perfect way to untangle all those thoughts and let the memories flow again. You should try it.’

Ava looks up at me, hopeful, maybe even as excited as Elsie at the prospect. We have yoga teachers at the club. If she really wants to try it, then I’ll get her on one of the classes. No sweat. ‘We’ll look into it,’ I assure her, returning my attention to John, keen to get some more squirming out of him. ‘So, a dating website, huh?’

Slowly, purposely slowly, he takes his shades to his face and covers his fuck-you glare. ‘Haven’t you got somewhere to be?’

‘Nope.’ I raise my hand to signal the waitress, looking to Elsie. ‘Which site did you find him on, Elsie? Date a Moody Bastard? Free to a Good Home?’ I chuckle when Ava smacks my arm, and Elsie giggles, too.

‘It was Twilight Love, actually.’ Reaching across the table for his hand, she squeezes it affectionately. ‘I knew the moment I saw his profile picture that there was cotton wool under all that steel. And I was right.’

‘Awwww.’ I place my hand over my heart and turn gooey eyes onto John. ‘You big softy, you.’ He’s going to lay me out soon.

‘We should go,’ Ava says sternly, sensing the killer vibes emanating from John’s big black body. She gives me a warning look to rival John’s. ‘I’m tired, Jesse.’

Just like that, I’m snapped out of my teasing mood. What am I thinking? She’s exhausted. Shit. ‘We’ll leave you two to it,’ I say, scanning Ava up and down.

‘Goodbye,’ John grunts.

‘It was lovely to meet you, Elsie.’ Ava pushes a smile through her exhaustion. ‘And thank you for your offer. I’ll think about it.’

‘Of course. John will give you my number if you decide you’d like to try it.’

As we wander over to the bike, Ava looks up at me, and I just know what’s coming. ‘I think I’d like to try yoga.’

‘We’ll talk about it when you’re not so tired.’ I brush off her statement for now. We’ve argued enough today.

Chapter 22

When we get home, Ava doesn’t head upstairs to take a nap. Instead, she goes straight to the kitchen and starts pulling open doors and drawers. I stand at the door watching her, unsure as to whether I should step in. I know exactly what she’s doing. Since we saw Sarah, she’s been visibly more stressed, swaying between worry and anger, and I can see her mind racing.