Chapter 23
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
AVA
Watching the Salinger Olympics feels like sitting in the colosseum in Rome as gladiators face up to the lions.
Any sense of brotherly love is gone, replaced by pure competition.
Right now, all six of them are lined up on the dock, waiting for Linda to blow the starting whistle for their swim to the other side of the lake and back again.
The start was delayed because Lincoln pushed Brooks into the lake a second before the first whistle, causing a false start.
And when Brooks climbed out, he and Linc had a fight that ended with Myles and Liam pulling the two of them off each other.
Is it wrong to say I’m enjoying every minute?
This is the third event of the day. The first was rowing, which was done in heats. Myles won that one easily, and I’m starting to suspect he spends a lot of time in the gym on the rowing machine. He has such a smooth movement that can only come from years of practice.
The second event was jousting on the floating platform out in the middle of the lake. I think that might have been my favorite, because watching Myles get pushed into the water by an oversized jousting stick is one that’s going to stay in my memory.
Liam won that one by a single game. He’s still grinning about his victory.
According to Deandra, who’s sitting next to me, this morning’s events are nothing compared to the ones this afternoon. There’s boxing, running, shooting, and tree climbing.
“We tried to ban the boxing,” Deandra tells me. “But the boys refused. They seem to enjoy beating the heck out of one another.”
“Who wants some sweet lemonade?” Julia asks, carrying a tray down the lawn. Rupert immediately jumps up from his chair to take it from her. He hands a glass to each of us as Julia slumps in her chair.
“How are you feeling?” Deandra asks.
“I’m so tired. I thought you were meant to bloom in pregnancy,” Julia says, shaking her head. She takes a sip of her lemonade and sighs.
“That’s the second trimester. You’re only a few weeks away,” Deandra reassures her. “Just think, in about fifteen years your little one will be competing.”
Julia’s eyes widen. “Oh I hope not.” She rubs her stomach. “Anyway, I’m thinking this is a girl. We need a little less testosterone around here.”
“How long have the Olympics been going on for?” I ask them.
Deandra’s brows pull together. “I’m not sure.
I think my boys were young teenagers. They were running wild, so Myles decided the best way to keep them under control was to wear them out.
He’d run drills every day and told them they had to train for the Olympics.
They did it for years, but then it stopped. ”
“He got busy,” Julia murmured. “At work.”
“But they’re back now,” Rupert says, smiling warmly. “It’s good to have all my boys here.”
They’re such a complicated family. I used to think my mom and I had a difficult relationship, but at least there was only two of us. We both knew where we stood. But the dynamics between all the branches of the Salinger family are almost incomprehensible. No wonder Myles gets exhausted by it all.
Not that he looks exhausted now, as he stands on the dock laughing at something Eli just said.
He looks virile and masculine and everything that takes my breath away.
He’s wearing a pair of navy swim shorts, his chest bare and tan beneath the warm summer sun.
The muscles on his back ripple as he slides his goggles over his eyes and Linda calls for them all to line up again, ready to dive into the cold lake.
When she blows the whistle they all dive in together, their bodies slicing into the surface like a knife through warm butter.
I hold my breath as I wait for them to surface, and when they do, they’re all five yards across the lake.
I spot Myles immediately, his dark hair wet and glistening, his stroke easy and fast as he pulls and kicks himself through the water.
There’s hardly an inch between all six of them.
What Brooks and Linc lack for in skill they make up for in energy, their feet crashing against the surface as they try to keep up with each other, almost ramming into the other as they try to get in front.
Brooks reaches for Linc’s head and tries to push him under and Linda blows her whistle wildly to get their attention.
“No dunking,” she shouts, but I don’t think they can hear.
They reach the other side in a single wave, then turn to launch themselves back into the water, swimming toward us this time, and they’re still so close it’s impossible to call.
Deandra and Julia are shouting out their names, trying not to show favoritism by cheering on each of them.
My heart is racing as they get closer, and all I want is for Myles to win.
“Come on Myles!” I scream out, giving in to the excitement. “You can do this!”
Rupert chuckles. “He’s saving his energy for the sprint.”
Everybody’s standing now, breathless as we wait for them to reach the dock, and Linda is watching with hawk-like eyes, ready to call a winner.
Two hands slap the wooden planks almost simultaneously, followed in quick succession by the other four. Linda frowns and looks from Myles to Holden, the quietest of the brothers who appears to be an A1 athlete, too.
“It’s Myles,” she says. “By about two milliseconds.”
“It was Holden,” Myles says. “I saw him hit first.”
“No way, man.” Holden shakes his head. “I saw you in front of me. It was you.”
“Hey, I’ll take it if you two don’t want to.” Linc pulls himself out of the water. Even though he’s a fair bit younger than Myles, he has the same body shape and smile. He just gives it more easily than Myles does.
Linda looks over her shoulder at us. “Did anybody else see?”
“Maybe you should call it a draw,” Julia suggests.
“Hell no,” Liam says. “We don’t do draws.”
“Then it’s Myles,” Holden and Linda say in unison.
Myles’ eyes alight on mine. If I thought he looked good in his trunks from behind, it has nothing compared to the full frontal view.
His hair is dripping wet, his chest gleaming, his swim shorts plastered to his thick, muscled thighs.
He looks like James Bond walking out of the ocean, and I have to mentally pinch myself not to let out a sigh.
“You okay?” he asks, wandering away from his brothers.
“Just watching the spectacle.” I hold out my glass of lemonade. He takes it and swallows it in one gulp. From the corner of my eye, I see Julia looking at us.
Damn, I should have gotten him a fresh one. Sharing drinks isn’t something that colleagues are supposed to do.
“Who do you think won?” Linda asks me.
“Myles,” I say immediately.
The corner of his lip lifts. He’s still staring at me. And I’m really trying not to think about that body of his and what he can do with it. We’re in polite company here.
“You’re biased,” he murmurs, but he looks pleased about it.
“Always,” I whisper.
Linda walks over to the huge chalkboard with the Salinger brothers’ names written on it, and a table of scores. She allocates them each some points, giving Myles the most, then tallies up the totals so far and adjusts them at the end.
“Myles is winning going into lunch,” she says.
“Of course he is.” Deandra laughs. “He’s always winning.”
“I won’t be this afternoon. Not with the running and the rifles.”
“Who usually wins the running?” I ask him.
“Eli. The guy’s a speed demon.”
“And the shooting?”
“It’s a close call between Linc and Brooks, when we let them hold a gun.”
“When you let them?” I question.
“We have to ban them from the event when they’re really pissed with each other.” Myles picks up a towel and rubs his hair with it. “Those two riled up with guns is asking for trouble.”
“Eek.” I grimace.
“Right?” he murmurs, looping the towel around his neck. “I’m heading back to the cabin to shower before lunch. You coming?”
“Sure.” We start walking in tandem toward his cabin. “What time do the Olympics restart?”
“At three. We’ll go ‘til six then we add up the scores. If there’s a tie we go to a tie breaker.”
“What’s the tie breaker?” I ask him.
“Table tennis.”
I start to laugh.
“You can laugh all you like, but it’s table tennis to the death. One year Linc threw the paddle against Liam’s head and left a scar.”
“Ouch.” I smile at him. “You’re winning right now. Do you think you’ll win it outright?”
“No idea. Probably not. The water’s my specialty.”
“Why’s that?”
He shrugs. “I grew up in that lake. It’s the only place I liked to be during the summers when I was a kid.”
I picture him all young and gangly, floating around the lake as the sun turned his skin a deep bronze. And then I realize that one day our child might be just like that. A pre-teen, all emo and beautiful and ready for life.
Myles will never get to see that. It somehow makes me sad.
And then I think about his family again, and the question that’s been playing on my mind.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Tell me what it is, and I’ll decide if I want to answer or not.”
That’s fair enough. I’d be the same. “You were upset last night when your dad made his announcement about the baby,” I say, my words as careful as his expression. “Was that because you’re jealous?”
He blinks. “Of my dad? Or of the baby?”
“I don’t know.”
He swallows. “I’m not jealous,” he says slowly, measuring out his words. “I’m slightly annoyed that I’ll have another sibling to step in and look after. I’ll get over it, I’m sure.”
“Why would you have to step in?” I ask, frowning.
“My father’s seventy-three. By the time this kid is a preteen he’ll be almost ninety.
You think he’s gonna play football with him?
Steer him away from gangs and fights at school and channel his energy into something good?
You think he’ll be there the first time the kid gets drunk at some stupid teenage party and spends the night throwing up?
Even if he wasn’t an octogenarian he wouldn’t be there.
He never was for us.” He takes a deep breath.
“That’s why I never wanted kids. Why my relationships never worked. ”
“Because you already brought up five kids of your own,” I say softly. I’m not going to lie, when he says he doesn’t want children it physically hurts. “But why would you agree to be the father to mine?”
He looks at me and reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
I feel the burn of his fingers as they trail against my skin.
“Because I know our child…” He shakes his head as though he’s made a mistake.
“Your child will never need what my brothers needed. Because he or she will have you.”
“Don’t you worry that he or she won’t have a father?”
He shakes his head resolutely. “No. Because I know you, Ava, and I know you’ve thought this through. You wouldn’t be doing this alone unless you thought you could be both mother and father to this kid. And you have friends and family and enough people who will be there to help you.”
“But not you.” I ignore the ache in my heart because he’s not telling me anything I didn’t already know.
Hell, I was the one who told him I didn’t need his help with anything.
That this baby would be mine and mine alone.
And I know I can do it. I’ve thought it through.
I have guy friends who will be great role models, and enough support from everybody to have a babysitter every day of the week if I need one.
And as I said to Myles all those weeks ago, even if I had a baby in wedlock, the chances were I’d end up being a single mom anyway. My eyes are wide open. I can do this.
“I told you,” he says softly. “I’ll be there if you need me. You just have to say the word.”
But I won’t. I won’t be yet another person demanding his support and help. I won’t be like his dad and mom and stepmoms.
He doesn’t need any more people relying on him. His broad shoulders are carrying enough.
“Myles?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it going to take for you to trounce your brothers at the Olympics?”
He smiles. “I don’t know.”
I lean forward to kiss his cheek. “How about the fact that I took a test earlier and I’m ovulating?”
His jaw twitches. He looks down at me, his eyes blazing. “Yeah,” he says, his voice thick. “That’ll do it.”
I smile. “Good.” I want him to win. I want him to get everything. Because I’m falling for this beautiful, complicated man.
And even though I can’t have him, I can have a piece of him. And that’s enough.