Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
A va stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman who stared back. The royal blue silk gown—Rachel’s inspired find during their shopping expedition—draped elegantly over her curves, the color making her eyes appear a deeper blue than their usual pale hue. Her blonde hair was swept up in an intricate updo that had taken an embarrassing number of YouTube tutorials to master, with a few artful tendrils left loose to frame her face.
She looked...different. Not just dressed up, but somehow transformed. A version of herself that existed in parallel to Dr. Spencer-Campbell of the ED—someone elegant and poised, someone who belonged on the arm of Reed Campbell at a black-tie charity gala.
The thought of Reed sent a flutter of nerves through her stomach. This past week had been a strange limbo of intimacy and restraint. Since the accident, they’d fallen into a new routine—sharing meals without the awkward silences, watching movies pressed against each other on the couch, even sleeping in the same bed, his arm draped protectively around her waist.
But they hadn’t crossed that final threshold. Every night, she’d fallen asleep with his heartbeat steady against her back, wondering if tonight would be the night one of them would turn toward the other, would transform their closeness into something more. And every night, exhaustion or uncertainty had kept them in that holding pattern of almost-but-not-quite.
Ava smoothed her hands over the silk, feeling the unfamiliar texture against her palms that were more accustomed to latex gloves and antiseptic soap. She’d chosen simple jewelry—diamond studs that had belonged to her mother, a delicate silver bracelet that Noah had given her for her medical school graduation, and, of course, the gold band on her left hand that now felt like it belonged there.
A gentle knock at the bedroom door startled her from her reverie.
“Ava?” Reed’s voice came through the wood. “Are you almost ready? We should leave in about twenty minutes.”
“Just about,” she called back, her heart suddenly racing as if she were a teenager getting ready for prom rather than an almost thirty-year-old doctor preparing for a work function. “I’ll be right out.”
One final glance in the mirror, one last deep breath to steady herself, and Ava opened the door to the hallway.
Reed stood in the doorway to the living room, his back to her as he fiddled with his cufflinks. The sight of him in a perfectly tailored tuxedo momentarily robbed her of breath. His broad shoulders filled out the jacket impeccably, the crisp lines emphasizing his athletic build in a way his usual EMT uniform or casual clothes never did.
As if sensing her presence, he turned, and the expression that crossed his face made her cheeks warm with a pleasure she hadn’t anticipated. His eyes widened, lips parting slightly as he took in the sight of her.
“Wow,” he said simply, the single syllable carrying more genuine appreciation than any elaborate compliment could have.
Ava fidgeted with her bracelet, inexplicably nervous under his gaze. “Rachel insisted on the blue. I wasn’t sure...”
“It’s perfect,” Reed interrupted, his voice rougher than usual. “You’re beautiful.”
The sincerity in his tone made her breath catch. This wasn’t part of their act, wasn’t for the benefit of anyone but themselves. They were alone in their home—and when had she started thinking of it as their home?—with no audience to perform for.
“You clean up pretty well yourself,” she managed, trying for a light tone despite the fluttering in her chest. “Though your tie needs some help.”
Reed grinned ruefully, gesturing to the black bow tie hanging undone around his neck. “I was hoping you might rescue me. YouTube tutorials only get a guy so far.”
Ava closed the distance between them, hyperaware of the whisper of silk around her legs, the faint scent of Reed’s cologne, the warmth radiating from him as she stepped into his personal space. “Lucky for you, I had a crash course in bow ties during my residency. All those medical galas.”
She reached up, her fingers working the black silk with careful precision. The position brought her face inches from his, close enough to see the varying shades of brown in his eyes, the slight shadow of stubble along his jaw despite his recent shave, the small scar near his temple from a childhood accident he’d told her about during one of their late-night conversations.
“Your mom called earlier,” Ava said, focusing on the tie to avoid getting lost in his gaze. “She wanted to make sure we’d be at the VIP reception beforehand. Apparently, there are some major donors she wants us to meet.”
Reed groaned softly. “Sorry about that. Mom’s in her element at these things. Hospital politics and charity fundraising are her natural habitat.”
“It’s fine,” Ava assured him, adjusting the tie with practiced movements. “She’s put a lot of work into this event. And technically, I should be thanking her. Ciponelli seems much more confident about my permanent position now that I’m a Campbell by marriage.”
The words hung between them, more significant than she’d intended. A reminder of why they’d maintained this charade, of the professional stakes still tied to their personal arrangement.
“Is that still important to you?” Reed asked quietly. “The permanent position?”
Ava’s fingers stilled on his tie, the question catching her off guard. “Of course it is. I’ve worked toward it for years.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Reed’s hands came up to cover hers, warm and steady. “I meant, is it still the only thing that matters?”
The implication was clear. Was her career still the central focus of her life? Had other priorities—relationship, connection, the possibility of a future with him—shifted the balance?
“No,” she admitted, the truth surprising her even as she said it. “It’s not the only thing that matters anymore.”
Something softened in Reed’s expression, relief and tenderness mingling in his gaze. He released her hands, allowing her to finish with his tie.
“There,” she said, smoothing the perfectly tied bow with satisfaction. “Now you look like a proper escort for the evening.”
“’Escort’ makes me sound like I’m being paid by the hour,” Reed teased, the momentary seriousness giving way to his usual humor. “I prefer ‘dashingly handsome husband.’”
Ava rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress her smile. “Fine. Dashingly handsome husband it is.”
He extended his arm to her with exaggerated formality. “Shall we go dazzle the good people of Elizabethtown General with our marital bliss, Dr. Spencer-Campbell?”
“I suppose we must, Mr. Campbell.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, the gesture now familiar after weeks of public appearances together.
As they headed for the door, Ava thought about the contrast between this moment and their first awkward days of cohabitation. The careful distance they’d maintained, the separate rooms, the tension that had hummed between them like a live wire. Now, there was an ease to their interactions, a comfort in their closeness that felt startlingly authentic.
Reed helped her into her wrap, his fingers lingering at the nape of her neck where the updo left it exposed. The brief contact sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the evening chill.
“You really do look incredible,” he said quietly, his breath warm against her ear. “Every man there is going to wonder how I got so lucky.”
“It’s not luck,” she replied, turning to face him. “It’s tequila and poor judgment.”
His laugh was warm and genuine, crinkling the corners of his eyes in the way that never failed to make her heart skip. “Ah, yes. The foundation of all great romances.”
“Very romantic,” she agreed, her own smile impossible to contain.
Reed’s expression softened as he looked down at her, something unnamed but powerful passing between them. For a moment, Ava thought he might kiss her—right there in the entryway, with the car waiting and the gala beckoning and Diane Campbell expecting their prompt arrival.
Instead, he reached out to tuck one of her loose curls behind her ear, his touch achingly gentle. “Ready for this?”
The question seemed to encompass more than just the evening ahead—the public scrutiny, the performance of their marriage, the dance they’d been doing around each other for weeks now.
“I think so,” Ava answered, surprised to find she meant it. Whatever awaited them tonight, whatever step their relationship might take next, she was ready to face it. With him.
Reed opened the front door, the cool evening air rushing in as they stepped out together. As Reed led her to the car, his hand warm and steady at the small of her back, Ava wondered if perhaps their arrangement wasn’t so fake after all—at least, not anymore.
R eed hadn’t expected to enjoy himself at the gala. These functions had always been tedious obligations—nodding along to lengthy conversations about hospital budgets and donor recognition, enduring his mother’s not-so-subtle introductions to eligible daughters of board members, counting the minutes until he could reasonably excuse himself.
But tonight was different. Tonight, Ava was in his arms.
The string quartet played something classical that Reed couldn’t name but instantly appreciated, as it gave him the perfect excuse to hold her close. Her royal blue dress shimmered under the ballroom’s crystal chandeliers, the silk cool and smooth beneath his palm at the small of her back. The scent of her perfume—something subtle and floral he’d never noticed her wear before—mingled with the familiar scent that was uniquely her, creating an intoxicating combination that made his head swim more effectively than the champagne they’d been sipping all evening.
“You’re staring,” Ava murmured, a smile playing at the corners of her lips as they moved together across the dance floor.
“Can you blame me?” Reed replied, not bothering to deny it. “Every man in this room wishes he were in my place right now.”
A pretty blush colored her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. That was new, too—this willingness to accept his compliments without deflection or retreat. They’d grown more comfortable with each other, sharing a bed, sharing meals, sharing the quiet moments that made up a life together.
But they’d been circling each other, too. Neither quite ready to define what they were becoming, to cross that final threshold from pretend to real.
“My mother is watching us,” Reed said, his eyes briefly flicking to where Diane Campbell stood with a group of hospital board members, her satisfaction evident even from across the room. “She hasn’t looked this pleased since Dad finally agreed to renovate the kitchen last year.”
Ava followed his gaze and laughed softly. “She’s not exactly subtle, is she? Earlier, she was asking about grandchildren while we were in the receiving line.”
Reed nearly missed a step. “She didn’t.”
“Oh, she absolutely did. Right after Mrs. Henderson from Pediatrics walked away. Something about how the Campbell genes shouldn’t be wasted.”
“I’m sorry,” Reed groaned, genuinely mortified. “She’s incorrigible.”
“It’s fine,” Ava assured him, her eyes dancing with amusement rather than panic. “I told her we were enjoying being newlyweds for now.”
The thought of Ava calmly discussing their hypothetical future children with his mother sent a jolt of something warm and unexpected through Reed’s chest. Not anxiety or trapped panic, as it might have once, but something that felt strangely like hope.
“Mr. and Dr. Campbell!” The jovial voice of Martin Ciponelli broke through Reed’s reverie as the song ended. The department head approached them, resplendent in a tuxedo that probably cost more than Reed’s first car, his wife equally elegant on his arm. “The guests of honor, I’d say. Everyone’s talking about our hospital’s most glamorous couple.”
“Dr. Ciponelli,” Ava greeted, her professional smile sliding into place, though Reed could feel the slight tension in her posture beneath his hand. “The gala is wonderful this year. The cardiac wing fundraising looks to be a great success.”
“Indeed, indeed. And in no small part thanks to your case study. The presentation was excellent—several donors specifically mentioned it.” Ciponelli beamed, turning his attention to Reed. “And you, young man. Your mother tells me you’ve been instrumental in getting the rec center youth program to partner with our community outreach initiative.”
Reed nodded, surprised that his modest efforts had been noticed. “Just trying to get more kids interested in emergency medicine and safety. Nothing compared to what the doctors do.”
“Nonsense! Early exposure is how we recruit the next generation of medical professionals.” Ciponelli clapped him on the shoulder with genuine enthusiasm. “Between your community connections and Ava’s clinical excellence, you two make quite the power couple.”
Reed felt Ava’s hand tighten slightly on his arm—recognition of the department head’s not-so-subtle approval of their union as a professional asset.
“I’ve said it before, but congratulations on your marriage,” Ciponelli continued. “I admit I was concerned about Ava’s commitment to staying in our little community long term, but clearly, she’s put down roots now.” He gave Reed a knowing wink that made something protective flare in his chest.
“I think Ava’s commitment to the hospital was evident long before we got married,” Reed replied, keeping his tone light but firm. “Her work speaks for itself.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Ciponelli’s face before he smoothed it over with a broad smile. “Of course, of course! Just an added bonus to have such a strong local connection now. Family ties make our medical community stronger.”
Ava’s grateful glance made Reed’s minor rebellion worth any potential fallout from his mother’s social circle. He’d never much cared for the hospital politics that treated personal lives as professional bargaining chips.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Reed said, “I promised my wife a drink after our dance.”
“By all means! Enjoy yourselves. It’s your night to celebrate, too.” Ciponelli and his wife moved on to the next cluster of donors, his booming laugh trailing behind him.
“Your wife,” Ava echoed quietly as Reed guided her toward the bar. “That still sounds strange.”
“Strange bad or strange good?” Reed asked, surprising himself with how much her answer mattered.
She considered for a moment; her head tilted thoughtfully. “Just strange. But less strange than it was a month ago.”
It wasn’t quite the declaration he might have hoped for, but it was honest—and honesty was what he’d always appreciated most about Ava, even when it came wrapped in her particular brand of caution.
The bar was crowded with guests seeking relief from the numerous speeches and presentations of the evening. Reed guided Ava through with a protective hand at her waist, hyper-aware of the admiring glances she attracted in that dress. A strange, possessive pride welled up in him—not that she was his possession, but that of all the people in the room, she had chosen to be by his side.
Even if it had started as a drunken mistake.
“Champagne?” he asked as they reached the bar.
“Please,” she nodded, smoothing a hand over her updo where dancing had loosened a few more tendrils around her face. The effect was somehow even more entrancing than the careful perfection she’d started the evening with—slightly undone, a hint of the real woman beneath the polished exterior.
Reed signaled the bartender, who nodded in acknowledgment but held up a finger, indicating it would be a moment. The crush around the bar was three-deep in some places, the open bar proving to be the most popular attraction of the charity event.
“Well, if it isn’t the happy couple,” a voice drawled from Reed’s left, the familiar snide tone immediately setting his teeth on edge.
Joe Salvini leaned against the bar, his bow tie already undone despite the relatively early hour, a tumbler of what looked like scotch dangling from his fingers. His gaze traveled over Ava with an appreciation that was just inappropriate enough to make Reed’s fists clench.
“Joe,” Ava acknowledged coolly. “I didn’t expect to see you at the bar. You’re usually kissing up to the board members during these events.”
“It appears the department’s newest power couple has cornered the market on that.” Salvini took a long sip of his drink, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Edging out the competition.”
Reed felt his jaw tighten, but forced himself to remain civil. This was Ava’s colleague, and creating a scene at his mother’s carefully orchestrated charity event wasn’t an option.
“The presentations were excellent this year,” he offered neutrally. “Especially the trauma response overview.”
Salvini’s attention shifted to Reed, his expression turning calculating. “You know, Campbell, I have to hand it to you. Pulling off a secret relationship right under everyone’s noses, then a Vegas wedding? It’s almost like something out of a romance novel.” He smirked. “Or a very convenient arrangement.”
The insinuation was clear. Reed felt a hot surge of anger rise in his chest, but before he could respond, Ava’s hand settled on his arm—a gentle restraint.
“What exactly are you implying, Joe?” she asked, her voice perfectly steady despite the tension Reed could feel radiating from her.
“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Salvini raised his glass in a mock toast. “Just that the timing is interesting. ED position opening up, Ciponelli concerned about your commitment to the hospital, and suddenly you’re married to one of the town’s most established families.” He shrugged elaborately. “A cynic might see a connection.”
Reed took half a step forward, only to feel Ava’s grip tighten on his arm. “Watch yourself, Salvini,” he warned, his voice dropping low enough that only those immediately nearby could hear.
“Or what?” Salvini’s smirk widened. “You’ll defend your wife’s honor? Very chivalrous. But you have to admit, the whole thing seems convenient. Secret dating no one knew about, a Vegas wedding right when her career needed a boost.” He leaned in slightly. “Tell me, was it love at first sight, or did it take a few drinks to seal the deal?”
Something in Reed snapped. The memory of Ava’s tears after her conversation with Noah, the strain their charade had put on people they cared about, the genuine feelings that had grown amid the pretense—all of it crystallized into a white-hot anger that had him reaching for Salvini’s lapel.
“Reed.” Ava’s voice cut through the roaring in his ears, her hand firmly on his chest now. “He’s not worth it.”
The bartender appeared with their champagne, eyeing the tension between the men warily. Reed forced himself to take a deep breath, to step back and accept the flute Ava pressed into his hand.
“You’re right,” he agreed, his eyes still fixed on Salvini’s smug face. “He’s not worth ruining the evening over.”
Salvini raised his glass again. “To convenient arrangements,” he toasted mockingly.
Ava smoothly stepped between them, her back to Salvini as she faced Reed fully. “I think it’s time we go home,” she said, her voice pitched for his ears alone.
Reed blinked, the anger dissipating as he processed her words—and, more importantly, the look in her eyes. Not embarrassment or discomfort, but something darker, more intense. An invitation.
“Home?” he repeated, his mouth suddenly dry despite the champagne he’d just sipped.
She nodded, holding his gaze with a steadiness that sent heat coursing through him. “Home,” she confirmed, and there was no mistaking her meaning.
Reed set down his barely touched champagne flute, all thoughts of Salvini and his insinuations evaporating in the face of Ava’s quiet certainty. “Let me just tell my mother we’re leaving,” he said, already scanning the room for Diane.
“I’ll wait by the coat check,” Ava replied, a smile playing at the corners of her lips as she stepped away, her sapphire blue dress shimmering under the ballroom lights.
Reed found his mother deep in conversation with a prominent cardiology donor, her practiced smile firmly in place. He interrupted as politely as possible, leaning in to murmur a hasty excuse about an early shift the next day. Diane’s knowing look suggested she wasn’t fooled in the slightest, but she merely patted his cheek and told him to drive safely.
The five minutes it took to extract himself from the conversation and make his way to the coat check felt like five hours. When he finally reached Ava, she was waiting with their coats already retrieved, a newfound confidence in her posture that took his breath away.
“Everything okay?” she asked, helping him into his overcoat with a casual intimacy that felt anything but casual.
“Perfect,” he assured her, taking her wrap and carefully draping it around her shoulders, allowing his fingers to brush the nape of her neck where her updo exposed it. The slight shiver that ran through her at his touch sent a corresponding surge of anticipation down his spine.
The valet brought his truck around with remarkable efficiency, as if the universe itself was conspiring to get them home as quickly as possible. Reed helped Ava into the passenger seat, hyperaware of the whisper of silk against his hands, the subtle floral scent of her perfume, the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips.
As he rounded the hood to the driver’s side, a strange calm settled over him. Whatever happened tonight, whatever step they were about to take, it wasn’t about their arrangement anymore. It wasn’t about the hospital or Ciponelli or saving face.
It was about Ava. About the woman who challenged him, frustrated him, fascinated him, and somehow, improbably, had become essential to his happiness.
Reed slid into the driver’s seat, glancing over at Ava in the dim light of the parking garage. She met his eyes, a smile curving her lips that held both certainty and anticipation.
“Take me home, Reed,” she said simply.
And he did.