Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
T he front door had barely clicked shut before Reed surged forward, pinning Ava against it with a force that sent a delicious shiver down her spine. His body pressed flush against hers, the heat of him searing through the thin layers of fabric between them. His mouth crashed onto hers, a heady mix of desperation and raw hunger, stealing the air from her lungs. The tension that had simmered between them throughout the drive home—the electric silence, the stolen glances, the way his fingers had flexed possessively around her thigh—erupted the moment they stepped inside, like a match striking dry kindling.
Ava’s fingers speared into his hair, destroying the pristine style he had kept all evening, her nails scraping against his scalp as she tugged him closer. The bow tie she had meticulously arranged hours ago now hung loose around his neck, a casualty of her impatience at a red light. His jacket was gone, her wrap discarded, fabric scattered like whispered confessions leading to the inevitable.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Reed rasped against her neck, his breath hot, his voice rough, almost pained. His words vibrated through her, sinking deep into the hollow of her throat where his lips found purchase, branding her with soft bites and lingering kisses.
“Me too,” Ava admitted, her breath hitching as his hands roamed down her sides, claiming her, worshiping her. The confession startled her as much as it seemed to surprise him. This ache between them hadn’t begun in Vegas, or even in the weeks of pretending. It had been there for years, buried beneath unspoken words and restrained touches, waiting for the right moment to break free.
Reed’s palms skimmed over the silk of her gown, his fingers tracing the delicate material as if memorizing every inch of her. “This dress has been driving me insane all night,” he growled, his voice thick with frustration and need. “I couldn’t stop thinking about getting you out of it.”
Ava’s lips curled in a slow, wicked smile, emboldened by the dark hunger in his eyes. “Then what’s stopping you?”
Reed let out a low, rough chuckle, the sound sending a thrill straight to her core. His fingers found the hidden zipper at her back, dragging it down with agonizing precision. The cool air kissed her overheated skin as the gown loosened, slipping down her shoulders like liquid moonlight, pooling at her feet.
“Here?” she asked breathlessly, glancing at the windows and the darkness beyond, her pulse hammering.
Reed stilled, his gaze locking onto hers, intense and unreadable. For a moment, she thought he might lose himself entirely, might take her right there against the door with all the urgency thrumming between them. But then his expression softened with something deeper, something reverent.
“No,” he murmured, his hands gripping her thighs as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms. “Our first time together should be in our bed.”
Our bed.
The words resonated through her, a quiet thunderclap of meaning she hadn’t expected.
Ava curled her arms around his neck as he carried her down the hall, her heartbeat pounding a frantic rhythm. The house was silent but for their breathing, the crackle of tension between them more potent than words.
When they reached the bedroom, the silver light from the window painted the room in a dreamlike glow. Reed set her down beside the bed, his gaze devouring her, taking in every inch of the delicate lace of the unbelievably expensive lingerie Rachel had insisted she buy. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his voice husky when he finally spoke. “You are so goddamn beautiful.”
Maybe he was seeing her for the first time. Maybe they both were.
Their wedding night had been a drunken haze, a mess of blurred memories and fragments of heat. Now, Ava had the chance to explore, to touch Reed as much as her imagination had longed to. She stepped closer, her fingers trailing over the crisp fabric of his shirt, pushing it over his shoulders, letting her hands roam over the solid heat of his body.
This was Reed—the man who knew how she liked her coffee, who had steadied her when she faltered, who had become so seamlessly woven into her life. And yet, seeing him like this, touching him like this, felt like an unveiling, a discovery of something raw, something real.
“I want to feel you,” she whispered, the vulnerability in her voice stripping away any lingering hesitation.
Reed understood. His arms came around her, pulling her flush against him—skin to skin, heat to heat. The contact sent a sharp gasp from her lips, a tremor through her body. They lingered there, foreheads touching, sharing breath, the simple act of holding each other more intimate than anything that had come before.
“I never expected this,” Reed admitted, his fingers drawing slow, intricate patterns on her bare back. “When we woke up in Vegas, I thought we’d made the biggest mistake of our lives.”
Ava let out a soft, breathy laugh. “So did I.” She looked up at him, her fingertips tracing the edge of his jaw. “Funny how fate twists things around.”
“Funny,” he echoed, though there was nothing humorous in the way he looked at her—fierce, reverent, like she was something precious he hadn’t dared hope for. “Or maybe it was supposed to be this way all along.”
The thought lodged itself deep in her chest. That maybe they had been on this path long before they ever realized it. That maybe, despite everything, they had been heading toward this moment all along.
Then there was no more talking.
Reed’s mouth found hers again, slower this time, deeper, a kiss that unraveled something raw and desperate inside her. His tongue swept against hers in an unrelenting rhythm, tasting, claiming, until they were both left breathless. Ava clung to him, nails digging into his skin, her body trembling beneath the sheer force of him.
Heat radiated from him, melting any lingering resistance. His lips trailed down the column of her throat, lingering over her pulse, his tongue stroking the sensitive skin until a moan slipped free from her lips. The sound spurred him on, his mouth descending lower, dragging fire across her skin. He teased the sensitive peaks of her breasts with his tongue, his hands kneading the soft flesh, building an unbearable tension that coiled deep in her belly.
The suction at her nipples sent a sharp, electric jolt straight to her core, leaving her aching, desperate to be filled. She arched into him, her body pleading for more, and he answered with a low, satisfied growl. His mouth left a scorching trail down her stomach, lingering just long enough to make her squirm beneath him.
His hot breath ghosted over her thighs, teasing, tormenting, before his mouth finally found her, tongue stroking a slow, deliberate path that had her gasping his name. He ate at her with a reverence that shattered her, his tongue exploring her, tasting her, his hands pinning her thighs apart as she writhed. When he finally sucked her swollen clit into his mouth and slid two fingers deep inside her, curling them just right, she shattered, screaming his name as pleasure consumed her.
When the aftershocks faded, he was above her, his body braced between her legs, his thick, aching length pressing against her wet heat.
With one powerful thrust, he filled her completely, their gasps colliding in the dimly lit room.
His mouth captured hers as he moved, deep, steady thrusts that stole the breath from her lungs, her nails raking down his back as pleasure mounted once more. Their bodies fit together in a way that felt inevitable, destined.
When they both shattered, Reed’s name on her lips, Ava knew.
She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, and there it was—that same unguarded emotion, mirrored back at her. It sent a lump rising in her throat, a warmth flooding through her.
“I love you,” he whispered against her skin, the words a confession, a revelation. “I think I have for longer than I realized.”
Ava’s breath caught, her fingers tightening against his back. The truth had been circling her for days, maybe weeks. Maybe years.
She smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too,” she whispered. “Not because of Vegas. Not because of a piece of paper. Because of you. Because of us.”
Reed inhaled sharply, his arms tightening around her. They stayed that way, tangled together, neither willing to break the moment.
Much later, as Ava lay curled against him, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest, she let the warmth of it all settle into her.
“So,” she murmured, a teasing smile in her voice. “About our agreement…”
Reed let out a quiet chuckle, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I think we threw that out the window about an hour ago.”
Ava sighed dramatically. “So, we’re stuck with each other?”
Reed rolled them over until she was beneath him again, his smile slow, wicked. “Horrible fate,” he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Being married to the only person I’ve ever really wanted to be married to.”
Ava laughed, her heart swelling with something fierce, something certain.
She had thought their wedding had been a mistake.
But now?
Now she knew.
Some mistakes weren’t mistakes at all.
Some were just fate in disguise.
This wasn’t just a mistake.
This was fate in disguise.
R eed watched the moonlight shift across the ceiling, his body still humming with the afterglow of their lovemaking, but his mind surprisingly clear. Ava slept deeply beside him, her breath warm against his chest, her blonde hair spilling across his arm like ink. His fingers traced idle patterns on the bare skin of her back, marveling at its softness, at the trust implied by her complete relaxation against him.
If someone had told him two months ago that he'd be lying here with Ava Spencer—no, Ava Campbell—asleep in his arms, her wedding ring catching the moonlight as her hand rested over his heart, he would have laughed in their face. And yet here they were, their pretend marriage having evolved into something neither of them had anticipated, something that felt remarkably, terrifyingly real.
The weight of her against him was both unfamiliar and somehow exactly right, as if his body had been waiting for hers without his conscious knowledge. How long had he wanted this? The question circled in his mind as he remembered years of careful distance, of professional interactions underlaid with a tension he'd deliberately ignored, of telling himself that she was off-limits for too many reasons to count.
His best friend's little sister. His colleague. The brilliant, driven doctor who seemed to exist in a different orbit entirely from his own.
And now, his wife. In every sense of the word.
Reed brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch feather-light to avoid waking her. She looked younger in sleep, the determined set of her jaw softened, the crease that often appeared between her brows when she concentrated, smoothed away. This unguarded version of Ava was one few people ever saw—the woman beneath the white coat and professional demeanor, vulnerable and real.
That she trusted him enough to show this side of herself humbled him in ways he hadn't expected.
What now? They'd crossed a line tonight, transformed their arrangement from convenient fiction to something neither of them could easily walk away from. The feelings he'd confessed in the heat of passion hadn't been a lie—he did love her, with an intensity that both exhilarated and terrified him. And she had said she loved him too, the words falling from her lips with a sincerity that had made his heart stutter in his chest.
But love alone didn't make a marriage work. Reed knew that all too well from watching his parents navigate forty years together—the compromises, the adjustments, the daily choice to put each other first, even when it wasn't convenient or easy.
Could they do that? Could he and Ava, who had stumbled into matrimony through tequila and impulsiveness, build something lasting from these unexpected foundations?
Their lives were so different in some ways. Ava planned everything, approached the world with careful consideration and methodical precision. He'd always been more impulsive, more willing to trust his gut and deal with consequences later. She'd spent years building her career with single-minded focus, while he had found his calling through tragedy and circumstance rather than a deliberate choice.
And yet, beneath those differences lay surprising commonalities—their shared dedication to helping others, their ability to remain calm in crisis, the way they both carried old griefs that had shaped their lives.
Perhaps it wasn't so strange after all that they'd found their way to each other, even if the path had been unconventional.
Ava shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer to his warmth. Reed's arm tightened around her automatically, protective even in this most peaceful of moments. The simple rightness of holding her struck him anew. Whatever complications lay ahead, this—her in his arms, their hearts beating in tandem—felt undeniably perfectly correct.
There would be questions to answer, of course. Noah was still hurt by their deception, the wound to his trust not easily healed. Their colleagues would eventually realize that what had started as convenience had become something genuine, though Reed suspected his mother had known all along. The keen-eyed Diane Campbell rarely missed such things, especially when it came to her son.
And what about their careers? Would Ciponelli still view their marriage as an asset once he realized it wasn't just a convenient tie to the community? Would Ava get the permanent position she'd worked so hard for, and if not, what then?
Reed sighed softly, pushing the questions away. Tomorrow would bring enough challenges without borrowing trouble from the future. For now, it was enough to be here, in this moment, with the woman he loved sleeping trustingly in his arms.
His thumb brushed over her wedding ring, the simple gold band that had started as a prop in their elaborate charade and had somehow become a symbol of something authentic. They would need to have a conversation soon about what all this meant—perhaps replace these hasty Vegas rings with ones they chose for each other deliberately, with clear heads and open hearts.
The thought brought a smile to his lips. Reed Campbell, lifetime bachelor and notorious commitment-phobe, eager to shop for wedding rings. His EMT colleagues would never believe it. Hell, a part of him still couldn't believe it.
But looking down at Ava's sleeping form, at the way her body fit against his as if designed for this very purpose, Reed knew with sudden clarity that he wouldn't change a thing about their unlikely journey. The drunken wedding, the awkward cohabitation, the gradual dismantling of the walls between them —all of it had led to this moment, to this woman, to this unexpected chance at happiness.
"Best mistake I ever made," he whispered, echoing his earlier words, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
Ava stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling again, her arm tightening across his chest in sleepy possession. Reed smiled, letting his own eyes close at last, content to follow her into dreams.
Whatever tomorrow held, they would face it together—no longer pretending, no longer just making the best of a bad situation, but building something real from the unexpected foundation fate had given them.
And for now, that was enough.