Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
When I arrive at the hospital, I take the stairs two at a time to the cardiac floor. Ava texted me Mom’s details, so I breeze past the nurse’s station and punch into Mom’s room.
Her eyes go wide, like I’ve startled her. I swallow hard to keep a lid on what I want to say because it’s not her fault. Maybe I’m mad because the truth is starting to become clear—it’s mine. I haven’t been here to look after her. Like today. Like the past ten years.
Fuck! How can I protect the people I love and stay committed to the career I love too?
Ava stands up from the chair next to Mom’s bed and stares me down, like she’s reading my thoughts.
“No rush, Rye,” Mom says with a huff. “They’re going to try a different medication, is all. I’ll be fine.”
Ava leans over Mom and hugs her. “You need anything before I go?”
“You’ve been an angel,” Mom says. “Thank you, honey.”
Should I walk Ava out and try to talk to her? Or stay with Mom? Before I can decide, Ava slips into the hallway. Though it kills me, I let her go. Mom needs me now .
“How was the search?” Mom asks like we’re picking up a conversation over morning coffee and not stuck in a hospital room with her hooked to wires and machines.
Flashes from my adventurous day race through my mind, but I coax them back with a full breath and pull up a chair. “Successful.”
Mom’s inquisitive eyes linger on me, making me squirm. “Why can’t you and Ava seem to be in the same room together? What did you do to her?”
I open my mouth to defend myself, but Dr. Shelby steps into the room.
“While I love seeing you both, I’m not happy about the circumstances.”
A petite woman with dark hair peeks out from behind her. “Hello, I’m Emily,” she says, giving us a little wave. “I’m shadowing Dr. Shelby today.”
I focus on their debrief, but Mom’s comment is like a broken gear in my brain, and the information from the doctors is confusing. They seem confident Mom will improve, but they don’t mention the surgery she needs. Is this a setback or just a normal part of the process on the road to recovery?
They’ve only just left when Beth breezes in with chicken pot pie from the diner and two friends, both guys.
“Who are you?” I cross my arms and don’t try to hide my scowl. They look out of place in here. Faded Wranglers and scuffed boots, smelling like hay and hormones.
Beth gives me an aggressive huff. “Guys, this is my big brother, Ryan. He was just leaving.”
I shoot Mom a wary glance but she winks, like Beth with two testosterone-fueled bronc riders is completely normal.
Is it?
“Meet me outside for a minute,” I say to Beth, nodding for the door.
I don’t have to wait long. Beth storms out, eyes flashing. “Why do have to be such a jerk? Cam and Wilder are my friends.”
Taking this bait is tempting, but as much as winning a fight with my firecracker of a sister might feel victorious, I have more important ways to use my energy right now. “The doctors are keeping Mom overnight so they can monitor how she responds to the medication. Her oxygen saturation needs to improve or they may need to keep her longer.” There’s more, but I’m not sure how to say it, and I’m not going to try in this strained moment in this unfriendly place.
Beth frowns like she can read my distress. “We’ll keep her company until they kick us out.”
“Good.”
“Heard you found a dead body today,” she says.
The Finn River underground radio is alive and well. “Who told you?”
“Wilder’s dad was on the team.”
“It’s not common knowledge, so keep it under wraps.”
“Any idea who it was?”
“No.” It comes out harsher than I want it to, but I can’t help it. “I want you home early tonight.”
“Why?”
I answer with a look. “Midnight.”
Beth’s nostrils flare. “Whatever,” she huffs, and spins away.
Because our 4H helpers are attending a county fair event in Darby this weekend, I’m on my own for chores. Given the turbulent thoughts running through my head, I don’t mind. The work will give me something else to focus on.
When I reach the end of the driveway, I’m surprised to see Ava’s car parked to the side and the light on in the barn. I assumed she would have already come and gone the way she’s been doing all week.
Toby lopes down from the porch to greet me, tail wagging a mile a minute. I should start on the hours of transplanting waiting for me, but I don’t even try to talk myself out of walking to the barn, with Toby trotting along beside me. Inside, the scent of sweet hay and animal musk and leather collides with my senses. So comforting and complex and real compared to the antiseptic staleness of the hospital. The thud of my hiking boots on the floor vibrates up my spine, echoing in the quiet space. Otis pokes his nose over his stall door, no doubt missing Mom. I pause to let him sniff my knuckles, and when he gives me a gentle huff of approval, I stroke up his nose and lean closer, drawing on his warmth and companionship.
Ava comes out of Taffy’s stall. She’s dressed in the same jeans and pearly gray sweater as earlier, with one of Mom’s vests likely borrowed from the tack room to ward off the evening chill.
We lock eyes, the energy between us charging like a lit fuse before she turns away and disappears into the tack room. I rub Otis’s forelock and behind his ears, then force myself to get started on the rest of the chores.
Only there aren’t any. Ava’s cleaned all the stalls, fed and watered all four of our horses. With a grimace, I head to the far pasture, my boots thumping on the soft ground. But when I get there, our boarders are taken care of too. I tear back down to the greenhouse, but inside, the chicks have fresh water and feed. When I check on Petunia and her babies, the fresh hay and empty trough tell me Ava’s already handled this chore, too. So I go to gather the eggs, but the hens are all roosting on empty nests.
“Fuck!”
I storm back to the barn but Ava’s not there. I slam my fist into a bale of hay stacked outside Otis’s stall, hitting it so hard it bursts open, making a mess.
I go to the tack room for the pitchfork but once I’m inside, it’s like the walls box me in. I brace against the counter and try to control the emotions eating me up inside.
I don’t hear Ava, but when I look up, she’s standing in the doorway.
“She’s not getting better,” I say.
Ava’s dark eyes search mine. “Is that what the doctors told you? ”
Looking away, I bite back my anger. “It’s more what they didn’t say.”
“Medication can only do so much, and for so long. She needs that valve replacement.”
“The doctors don’t think she’ll survive the surgery.”
Ava releases a heavy sigh. “I was afraid of that.”
“We’ve been doing everything they said. She’s laying low. Reading, watching TV, eating well and resting. She shouldn’t be getting weaker.”
“Her heart’s been under stress for a long time.”
I risk a glance, but it’s too hard. I can see the truth in Ava’s eyes and I’m not ready for it. “She’s tough. She’ll recover. I’ll make sure of it.”
Ava walks closer, her expression tender with grief. “It doesn’t work like that, Hutch. Not all broken things are fixable.”
“No. It’s not too late.” Panic works into my jaw and makes my eyes burn. “You’re just being pessimistic. Good things happen all the time. People like Mom get better.”
She places her hand over mine and laces our fingers. “I want to believe it too.”
The warmth and softness of her touch is like a shock but I don’t dare let go. “Then we’re not going to let anything stop us.”
With another sigh, she leans against me. “Okay.”
Emotions churn hot and sharp inside my chest, making me wince. I pull Ava into my arms and hold her. The warmth from her body radiating into mine feels so good. Safe and welcoming and so very real and yet terrifying, too. “Promise me we’re not broken for good.”
Her breath catches, and her arms tighten around me. “I don’t know the way back to you, Hutch.”
The ache for her explodes inside me, making my pulse thump harder and my skin prickle. I caress her cheek with my thumb and savor the flicker of desire in her eyes.
“Let me show you,” I say, and press my lips to hers in a soft kiss. But I’m hungry, and scared and frustrated, and so much is pent up inside me that soon I’m lost to her mouth and the way her body fits so perfectly against mine. She grips my waist and kisses me back, her soft little tongue like a tease. I caress under her sweater, where she’s warm and strong and so soft. She hums a contented sigh as I stroke her lower back. In a gentle tug, she pulls my shirt tails free and runs her hands up my chest.
Her touch lights up every part of me, blasting my last shred of control to bits. I unbutton my shirt and tug off her sweater. In the low light, the pearly white bra against her perfect curves has me mesmerized. I caress her over the fabric, tracing her hardening peaks with the flat of my palm. Memories of that night so long ago spill into my thoughts, spurring me on. I don’t want to be careless like I was then. But there’s no going back now. What we have is too good.
Too rare.
I don’t know the way back to you.
Is this the way?
Ava strokes over my jeans as we kiss, our tongues swirling in a sensual duet, the sound of our quickening breaths filling the small space. I unbutton her pants, then kiss down her body, grazing her taut nipples with my teeth while she squirms, then lowering down to tug her jeans past her hips. The scent of her arousal hits me like a drug as I kiss up her inner thigh. She trembles, her fingernails gliding across my scalp.
Fuck, I need her. I nibble to the apex of her thigh and caress over her panties. She’s already so plush. Needing me. I tug the fabric aside for a slow, firm caress with my tongue. Ava jolts, her fingers tightening in my hair. I go back for more, teasing her little clit and stroking with my thumbs. She tastes incredible. Like sweetness and raw, beautiful need.
I slide her panties down and shuck her jeans and boots to the floor, then lift her to the counter and unfasten my belt. A desperate yearning fills her eyes. She cups the back of my neck and brings me close for a lusty, sensual kiss. My belt buckle clatters in this small space as I struggle to tug everything down. Ava helps with her other hand, her fingertips on my bare skin making me crazy. I slip my wallet from my back pocket as my jeans and briefs fall to my shins. I feel for the condom while I kiss her and my blood pounds in my temples. She strokes me, her delicate fingers making me groan. I rip open the condom, then slide it on and scoop her closer. Everything inside me is buzzing, my desire like a hard knot at the base of my spine. Breathing fast, I glide into place. With our bodies locked together, I give a slow, firm thrust.
Ava’s face tenses with desire. “Ohh,” she pants as I press on her lower back to keep her close. I rock back and thrust again, driving all the way inside. Ava gives a low moan and rolls her hips to meet mine.
“God, you feel good,” I say, the pleasure so powerful I pause to memorize the way our bodies fit so fucking perfectly. Her heat and desire wrapped so tight around me.
Her gorgeous eyes meet mine in the darkness, her expression that mix of trepidation and longing that I love to satisfy.
I kiss her, savoring this closeness and the hope building inside me that maybe she needs me the way I need her too. That maybe we’re not so broken after all.
I roll my hips, arching slow and firm. Ava hooks her ankles behind my thighs, like she wants to keep me closer. We kiss again, my hunger ratcheting up, up, in time with her quickening breaths, drawing everything tighter. I slide the strap of her bra down her shoulder and cradle her bare breast. Ava whimpers, arching to my touch. I bend down to tease her with my tongue. She braces off the counter with one hand and grabs the back of my neck with the other, her fingers curling into my hair. When I draw her into my mouth, grazing her with my teeth, her thighs tighten around me and her breaths turn sharp. I cup the back of her thighs to get her closer and drive faster, harder, reading her cues.
Ava comes in a series of sharp cries that ring in the air with such perfect sweetness, cracking open a part of me I’ve kept locked away, a part reserved only for her. As it echoes through me, a deep hunger for more rises in its place, like a wildness I can’t contain, and with it, a tender, bright joy, overpowering me like a sudden storm. I don’t fight it, even as it threatens to be my undoing. And while I want to make it last, it’s clear I’m no longer in control. Maybe there’s too much inside me—fears I’ve kept hidden, feelings I don’t know how to express—to deserve someone like Ava. But in this moment, a tiny, fleeting form of hope is growing too. The storm breaks and my ability to hold everything in shatters. Gripping her thighs, I let it all go as I come, pulsing deep inside her.
Ava drapes her arms around my neck, still panting. “Too fast,” she says with a groan.
“I know,” I say, caressing her silky hair. I close my eyes and kiss the top of her head. “But you didn’t think we were done, did you?”
She laughs. “I was hoping you’d make good on your promise.”
“What promise was that, sweetheart?”
“To make it last a little longer next time.”
I don’t bring up the way that conversation ended—I’m not letting anything ruin this moment—and press a soft kiss to the top of her head.
After I help her get dressed, we walk to the house, our hands clasped. The cool night air bites my hot skin, sending a shiver down my spine. Once inside, Ava’s grip on my hand tightens. The house is warm and still and rich with the scents of fresh laundry and cooking.
It’s home, but better with her here.
“So many memories,” she says softly, her eyes tense.
I realize that I have yet to see her inside the house during her visits. That it’s been too hard for her until now sends a pang of grief through me. I caress her face. “Let’s make some new ones.”
She closes her eyes and kisses me. It’s tender and gentle, reminding me that for all her fire, there’s that softer part of her that needs my care too. I kiss her back, lingering on her lips for a delicious moment, savoring all that I’m feeling. She drapes her arms around my neck as our kisses turn hungry in the darkness. My need for more rises through me, hard and tight. In one swift movement, I kick off my boots, then cup the back of her thighs and lift her into my arms.
With her knees gripping my waist, I reach back and tug off her boots, then carry her down the hall to my bedroom. In two steps, I cross the distance to the bed. I scoop her body beneath me as I climb on.
“Is this the famous Ryan Hutchins love den?” she asks when I set her in the middle of the bed.
Her haughty tone doesn’t fool me. My past is weighing on her.
“I don’t bring anyone here.” I kiss her softly.
Yearning flashes in her eyes.
Fuck, I love it when she looks at me like that.
“Hope you brought your A-game, Greely,” I tease, giving the bare patch of her belly a seductive swirl with my thumb. “Because we’ve got all night.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “You are my A-game, Hutchins.” She grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me close. “Now shut up and kiss me.”