Chapter 38
Ava
Istare at Harrison and remind myself this isn’t my safe place anymore.
This is a man capable of heartbreak.
Of walking away.
Of taking his kids with him whenever he feels like it.
And despite the whole devastating six-foot-four lumberjack situation currently scrambling every feeling I have, one emotion cuts through the clutter.
I’m fucking furious.
I suddenly remember his truck has a spectacular paint job.
Can somebody hand me a key?
But then I look at him. Really take him in.
And every angry thought in my head stumbles over his rumpled shirt and bloodshot eyes.
His hair’s a disaster, like he’s spent the last half hour gripping it with both hands to keep from losing his mind.
He looks wrecked.
Not polished Harrison.
Not calm Harrison.
Not the capable ex-SEAL who’s always six steps ahead of every disaster.
Just a father who thought he’d lost his kids.
They sent him through hell and back again.
And if mine disappeared?
I’d look exactly the same.
We stand there frozen on the sharp edge between hope and pain when—
“Dad!”
Snooki launches herself at him like a tiny missile while the boys crash into him a second later.
Harrison catches all three of them at once, dropping to his knees as relief crashes over him in one massive wave.
His eyes squeeze shut.
“You scared the hell out of me.” His words tremble into Snooki’s hair.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she whispers in the tiny voice every parent instinctively knows means total forgiveness is imminent.
Ollie shifts nervously beside him, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Are you mad?”
Harrison exhales hard through his nose, steadying his breath as he shakes his head.
“No,” he says quietly. “Terrified. Different thing.”
Connor frowns, instantly suspicious. “So we’re not in trouble?”
Harrison fixes all three of them with a look.
“For ditching me in a crowded airport and shutting off your phones?” His voice goes dangerously parental. “Oh, everybody’s grounded until college.”
A dry exhausted laugh slips out of him. He scrubs a hand down his face before ruffling Ollie’s curls.
“But you’re okay,” he says more quietly. “That’s all I care about.”
Something flickers across Connor’s expression.
Then he pulls away from the group and plants himself squarely between me and Harrison like a skinny little linebacker.
His chin lifts in defiance.
“This isn’t her fault,” he says firmly. “I did it.”
Oh.
His fierce teen voice absolutely melts me.
For a kid who’s all long limbs and awkward angles, Connor has a protective streak a mile wide.
Pure Evans DNA.
Harrison looks at him for a long moment before slowly standing again.
Then he reaches over and pats Connor’s cheek.
“In that case, you’re grounded until you’re thirty.”
Connor immediately groans.
Harrison just hooks an arm around the back of his neck and yanks him into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head while Connor tries very hard to pretend he hates it.
He absolutely doesn’t.
The laugh that breaks out of both of them feels like oxygen flooding back into the room.
“How did you even get in here?” Harrison asks, making air quotes. “It’s exclusive.”
“We busted in,” Ollie brags proudly.
Connor snorts. “More like the receptionist melted the second Snooki hit her with the death scream.”
Harrison raises his brows. “My little Snooki Pie melted a woman like chocolate?” He nods solemnly. “Are you their secret weapon?”
“Yup.” She beams.
He scoops Snooki onto his hip and gestures toward the enormous buffet spread across the lounge.
“Well,” he says dryly, “since this place apparently has enough food to feed a small nation, how about you tiny fugitives explain yourselves over lunch?”
Their eyes light up instantly.
“They have a pancake machine,” Ollie blurts.
“And fancy bacon,” Connor adds.
“And tiny muffins!” Snooki gasps, eagerly wriggling to get out of his arms.
The second Harrison sets her down, she wedges herself between us, grabs both our hands, and drags us toward the buffet like she’s just arrived at the greatest tea party in human history.
And maybe that’s what hurts most.
How natural it feels.
The connection threading through all of us.
Dammit.
I want this.
I want loud Christmas mornings and chaotic family vacations.
Connor and Ollie fighting over the remote.
Or the Xbox controller.
Or a pair of socks each one swears belongs to him.
I want Harrison standing in the kitchen making coffee he’ll never get to drink because he’s too busy negotiating how many more bites the kids have to eat before school.
I want Snooki sneaking into our bed at two a.m., all sleepy curls and cold feet, only for Harrison to carry her back to her room an hour later while she half-asleep negotiates for pancakes.
And I want movie nights. And inside jokes. And a life that belongs to all of us.
I want it all.
This impossible fantasy.
Somewhere between breakfast and my extremely committed attempt to avoid eye contact with Harrison, Sienna sweeps back toward the table with a tablet in her hand.
She’s talking to her earpiece. “No, reroute Chase through Gate Twelve before the paparazzi turn this terminal into Lord of the Flies.”
I swear, I don’t know how she keeps it straight.
“No,” she says, already rubbing her forehead. “He still needs to be in Milan tonight. Italian underwear campaigns don’t shoot themselves.”
Snooki immediately giggles.
Ollie leans toward Connor and loudly whispers, “She said underwear.”
Connor stares at him. “We all heard her, dude.”
Sienna finally disconnects the call and exhales.
She tucks a strand of hair behind one ear and, with the flip of a switch, instantly transforms back into the calm, polished powerhouse who somehow wrangles multimillion-dollar catastrophes on an hourly basis.
“I let security know the kids were found and are perfectly fine. And you’re in luck,” she says smoothly. “Mechanical issue. Your flight’s delayed another hour.”
Snooki gasps like it’s the greatest news she’s ever heard.
Sadness settles heavy in my stomach anyway.
Because delayed still means goodbye.
I force a smile. “Harrison,” I say quietly, “this is Sienna. Chase’s sister. And my new manager.”
“We’ve met actually.” He stands and offers a smile. “Thank you for getting me in here.”
Sienna accepts it, then leans in for one of those very Hollywood we’re-best-friends-but-I’m-like-this-with-everyone hugs.
“You’re welcome.”
Then she gestures vaguely around the absurdly luxurious lounge.
“Let me know if you need anything. Apparently I own this airport now.”
Then she’s gone again in a blur of heels and Hermès.
With a temporary stay of execution, breakfast resumes.
The boys immediately turn eating into some kind of Olympic sport while Harrison steals bacon off both their plates and shoves all the strips into his mouth at once like an overgrown chipmunk.
“HEY!”
Snooki dissolves into delighted giggles beside me, powdered sugar everywhere while her tiny hands leave white fingerprints all over my black tee.
I’m laughing so hard my cheeks hurt.
And I soak up every second of it.
Every laugh.
Every glance.
Every tiny ordinary moment that feels dangerously close to a life I’ll never have.