Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
T he truck's engine rumbled to a stop outside Ava's apartment building, the sudden silence making the space between them feel unexpectedly intimate. She'd barely spoken during the drive from the airport, her mind still reeling from the whirlwind of the past forty-eight hours. Vegas. The wedding. The ring felt foreign and heavy on her finger, reminding her of the crazy idea that had possessed her in Vegas. Was it the alcohol? The air they pumped into the casinos? The elevation?
She couldn’t blame it on anything, not when she decided to own the marriage, to lean into it so thoroughly, all for a job. She could have laughed it off, said it was a joke or something. They could have weathered the gossip, even if it reflected negatively on her. But they would have gotten through it. The risk was that it could have been the death knell to her hope of winning the ED position. Dr. Ciponelli was already on the fence about her reliability. Getting married on a whim wouldn’t help that image one bit.
Reed drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, looking far too relaxed for someone whose entire life had just been upended by tequila and poor judgment. His profile in the late afternoon light was unfairly perfect—all sharp angles and a five o'clock shadow that she now knew exactly how it felt against her skin. Fortunately, most of the beard burn was hidden by her sun dress, though she still had the reminder.
“So,” he said, turning to face her with that easy smile that had gotten her into this mess in the first place, “when will you be moving in?”
Ava blinked, her exhausted brain struggling to process the question. “Excuse me?”
“Moving in,” Reed repeated, as if he were asking about dinner plans and not a complete restructuring of her carefully ordered life. “I have a house with an actual yard while you live here.” He gestured vaguely at her building, the peeling paint on the fire escape, the cramped balconies. “It only makes sense that we would live in my place.”
The logical part of her brain—the part that wasn't still hungover and jet-lagged—understood his reasoning. Married people lived together. That was the whole point. But the reality of it hit her like a bucket of ice water, washing away the last of Vegas's champagne haze.
“I haven't—I didn't think—” She stopped, hating how flustered she sounded. Dr. Ava Spencer never stuttered, never hesitated, never found herself without a plan. But Reed Campbell had a way of short-circuiting her usual mental processes. Always had, even before the wedding.
The wedding. The words still felt surreal in her mind.
“The great Dr. Spencer-Campbell doesn’t have a plan? I’m shocked.” Reed teased. Then he continued, his voice softer. “I know you probably have shifts most of the week, but I could help you bring stuff over tonight. Get you settled in.” He reached across the console to touch her hand, his fingers warm against hers. “You can't delay this or people will talk. Questions will start. And we need to tell our families before too long.”
His touch anchored her, even as his words sent another wave of panic crashing over her. Families. Noah. Her brother was going to lose his mind when he found out she got married without a word of warning or inviting. Panic tore through her and her brain short-circuited. So much to do, so much to deal with. She couldn’t do this. Maybe she had time to rethink this.
“Can't we wait?” The question came out smaller than she intended, almost pleading. “This is moving too fast.”
Something flickered in Reed's eyes—disappointment, maybe, or hurt. But it was gone before she could be sure, replaced by that familiar smirk.
“That's what happens with a quickie wedding in Vegas, Doc.” He squeezed her hand once before letting go. “The longer we wait, the more pissed off they get when they do find out.”
He was right, of course. Their friends knew and their phones had been blowing up with notifications and ignored voicemails, which meant the clock was ticking on how long they could avoid this. Frankly, she was shocked her brother wasn’t waiting at her apartment, demanding answers. Thank goodness it was a busy season on the ranch. Maybe he was too distracted.
Ava stared out the windshield at her apartment building, at the life she'd built for herself. Ordered. Predictable. Safe. Everything her marriage to Reed was not. She'd spent years making careful choices, planning each step of her career and life. Then one weekend in Vegas had thrown all that careful planning out the window.
“I need time to think.” She reached for her seatbelt, needing space; air that didn't smell like his cologne.
Reed's jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Fine.” He reached into the backseat and handed her the small suitcase she'd taken to Vegas. “But don't take too long, Ava. The clock is ticking.”
The way he said her name—soft around the edges, almost like a caress—made something flutter in her chest, a sensation she wasn't ready to examine too closely.
“I won’t.” She pushed open the truck door, grateful for the burst of cool air against her flushed face. “I just need to process everything.”
“Process away, Dr. Spencer-Campbell.” His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “Just remember that while you're processing, everyone else is going to be asking questions.”
Ava hoisted her suitcase from the truck, the full weight of their situation settling on her shoulders. “I’ll call you tonight,” she promised, not entirely sure if she meant it.
Reed nodded, his expression unreadable. “I’ll be waiting. And Ava? You’re not alone in this. You have me.”
As his truck pulled away from the curb, Ava stood rooted to the sidewalk, watching until it disappeared around the corner. Only then did she allow herself to exhale fully, her breath visible in the crisp air.
Mrs. Reed Campbell. Dr. Ava Spencer-Campbell. The thought was both terrifying and, in some secret corner of her heart, she wasn't ready to acknowledge, thrilling. She twisted the gold band on her finger, wondering how something so small could feel so monumentally heavy.
She headed toward her apartment building, already mentally cataloging which of her possessions would fit into Reed's house, which would need to be stored, which could be given away. Planning, organizing, controlling what she could—her usual coping mechanisms sliding into place.
But as she unlocked her apartment door, one thought kept circling in her mind. What had seemed like a wild, consequence-free adventure in the neon glow of Vegas now meant merging her carefully ordered existence with the most spontaneous, unpredictable man she'd ever met.
And the most terrifying part was how much a part of her was looking forward to it.
R eed pulled into his driveway, the familiar crunch of gravel under his tires a welcome sound after the chaos of the past few days. Vegas still clung to him like a hangover—the lights, the rush, the impulsive decisions. He glanced at the gold band on his finger, still foreign and strange. Married. To Ava Spencer, of all people. The universe had a hell of a sense of humor.
He'd hoped she would come home with him tonight, but he understood her hesitation. Ava had always been deliberate, cautious—the complete opposite of his leap-first approach to life. It was what made her such a good doctor. And what made their sudden marriage all the more surreal.
The familiar silhouette on his porch didn't register as a threat until it was too late. Noah Spencer stepped out of the shadows as Reed approached his side door, and the next thing Reed knew, pain exploded across his jaw. He staggered backward, his duffel bag hitting the ground as he caught himself against his truck.
“My sister?” Noah's voice was low, dangerous. The voice of a man who'd spent his life protecting someone. “You couldn't tell me about this before now?”
Reed worked his jaw, tasting blood where his teeth had cut into his cheek. Noah had a mean right hook—always had, since they were kids playing pickup basketball in the neighborhood.
“Good to see you too, man,” Reed said, spitting a bit of blood onto the gravel. “You could have just sent a text.”
“A text?” Noah advanced on him again, and for a moment Reed thought he might take another swing. “The way you sent a text to tell me you married my little sister?”
“I didn't text you at all,” Reed pointed out, which was technically true. According to the wedding certificate documentation, the Vegas chapel had sent the announcement to Noah's email, not his phone. A ridiculous detail to fixate on, but Reed's face hurt too much for logical thinking.
Noah ran a hand through his dark hair—the same shade as Ava's, though his was cut tight to his head where hers fell straight. “Inside. I'm not doing this in your driveway for the whole neighborhood to see.”
Reed retrieved his bag and followed Noah through the side door. The familiarity of his own house—the worn leather couch, the sports memorabilia on the walls, the faint scent of the chili he'd made before leaving for Vegas—seemed at odds with the surreal confrontation unfolding.
Noah yanked open Reed's refrigerator and grabbed two beers, tossing one to Reed with more force than necessary. Reed caught it one-handed and pressed the cold bottle against his throbbing jaw before opening it.
“Start talking,” Noah demanded, settling into a kitchen chair with the easy familiarity of someone who'd spent countless evenings in this house. Twenty years of friendship now straining under the weight of one weekend in Vegas.
Reed took a long pull from his beer, buying time. He and Ava had agreed on the basic outline of their story on the flight home, but he hadn't expected to deploy it quite so soon or under such hostile conditions.
“It just happened,” he began, which was the only completely honest part of what he was about to say. “We've been seeing each other quietly for a while now.”
Noah's eyebrows shot up. “Bullshit. I saw you both at dinner last week. You barely spoke to each other.”
Reed winced. That dinner at the diner had been just a couple of days before Vegas. A couple of days before tequila and bad decisions and waking up with a wedding band.
“That was the point,” Reed countered, settling into the lie with the ease of someone used to talking his way out of tight spots. “Ava didn't want anyone at the hospital to know. You know how it is there. Gossip spreads faster than an outbreak of the flu. She was worried about her career, about Ciponelli finding out and thinking she wasn't committed.”
“So you lied to me. Your best friend since we were ten.” Noah's voice was flat, but the hurt was evident beneath the anger.
Guilt twisted in Reed's stomach. “We weren't trying to hurt you. It just got complicated.”
“Complicated?” Noah slammed his bottle down. “And then you just decided, what, 'Hey, we're in Vegas, let's get hitched!' without a word to her only family?”
Reed rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension building there. “It wasn't planned. We were caught up in the moment with Rachel and Kyle’s wedding, and it just felt right.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, especially when mixed with the metallic tang of blood from his split cheek.
“You don't do 'caught up in the moment' with someone's life, Reed. Not with my sister’s.” Noah's voice had dropped dangerously low. “Ava's not one of your usual girls who knows the score. She's..." He trailed off, clearly struggling to reconcile the sister he thought he knew with the woman who'd get married on a whim in Vegas.
“She's what?” Reed challenged, his own temper flaring. “Too smart? Too serious? Too good for someone like me?”
“I didn't say that,” Noah muttered, bitterness tinging his words as he stared at the half-empty bottle in his hand.
“You didn't have to.” Reed took another swig of his beer, wincing as it stung his cut cheek. “Look, I know this is a shock. But I care about her, Noah. More than—” He stopped, surprised by the emotion welling up. More than he'd intended to admit, even to himself.
Noah studied him, some of the anger gradually giving way to confusion. “How long? How long have you two really been seeing each other?”
Reed calculated quickly. “About three months,” he said, figuring it was long enough to be serious, but not so long that Noah would be deeply offended they'd kept it from him.
“Three months.” Noah shook his head in disbelief. “And that dinner? What was that, some kind of game? Let’s see how we can fool Noah? My sister isn’t that good an actress.”
“It was Ava's idea,” Reed said, throwing his new wife under the bus without hesitation, because it was the truth and she needed to talk to her brother. “She thought if we acted normal, no one would suspect.”
“And this is normal? Getting married without telling anyone? Without her brother there?” The hurt in Noah's voice made Reed flinch. “We're all each other has, Reed. You know that. We’ve been everything to each other for years. How could you do that to me?”
The weight of Noah's words hung in the air between them. After their parents' deaths, the Spencer siblings had become a unit, inseparable in their grief and recovery. Reed had witnessed their bond firsthand over the years, had been absorbed into their small family circle as Noah's best friend.
And now he'd disrupted that circle in the most fundamental way possible.
“I’m sorry,” Reed said, meaning it more than Noah could know. “It all happened fast. But I promise you, I'll look after her.”
Noah stood up, leaving his half-finished beer on the table. “You better. Because if you hurt her?—”
“I know, I know. You'll kill me.”
“No.” Noah's expression was deadly serious. “I’ll let her kill you herself. And believe me, she'll make it look like natural causes.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped Reed. “Yeah, she probably would.”
Noah headed for the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “This isn't over, Campbell. We've got more to talk about when I've had time to process...whatever the hell this is.”
“Your blessing would be nice,” Reed called after him.
Noah's response was a middle finger salute, then he slammed the door hard enough to rattle the windows.
Alone in his suddenly too-quiet house, Reed gingerly touched his swelling jaw and wondered how much worse it would be when Noah eventually learned the truth. He pulled out his phone, thumbing to Ava's contact. He needed to warn her that their cover story was already being tested.
His thumb hovered over her name for a long moment before he set the phone down. Let her have a few hours of peace before the next storm hit. God knew they could both use a little calm before facing the consequences of their Vegas adventure. He doubted Noah was headed over to Ava’s. He knew his friend. Noah would calm down before seeing his sister, then approach her when he could be more rational.
Reed wondered if Ava would tell Noah that it was her idea to get married? Damn it, he should call her and tell her what he’d told Noah, the details he’d revealed, so they could be on the same page. Besides, if they were going to convince Noah and everyone else that this marriage was real, they needed to get their stories straight. And somewhere in the back of his mind, Reed couldn't help wondering how much of his performance for Noah had been acting, and how much had been the truth he wasn't ready to examine too closely.
He’d wait and see if Ava actually called him to help her move that evening, and hoped she didn’t stand him up.