Chapter 28
Elizabeth suggested a local pub for dinner. Fine by me. I honestly don’t mind where we tell them they’re going to be grandparents, so why not over a nice steak? Well-done.
I make sure Ava’s comfortable in a soft chair and get everyone’s drink orders, predicting Elizabeth’s wine and Joseph’s beer.
“No wine?” Elizabeth asks, surprised when Ava asks for a water.
I push Ava’s chair closer to the table, sneaking a look at Elizabeth, willing her not to make a big deal of it. Ava’s parents probably think their daughter is being sensitive, given my apparent drinking problem. “No, we need to get away early,” Ava says, perusing the menu, playing it surprisingly cool. Even more surprisingly, Elizabeth pipes down, but I get the feeling she’s thinking as she returns her attention to the menu.
I dip into Ava’s neck. “I love you,” I whisper, smiling when her hand feels me out as I push my lips onto her cheek.
“I know.”
Happy, I leave them and head to the bar, ordering and paying before making my way back, tray in hand.
“What are you having, then?” Elizabeth asks. “I think I’ll go for the seafood platter.”
Seafood? I sit and scoop up the menu, scanning the endless choices, many of which were on the list of foods to be avoided. Christ, it’s like a minefield of unsuitable options. And I bet my wife fancies one of them.
Feeling her lean into me, I take her hand from my knee and kiss her knuckles, checking the steak choices. Rump, sirloin, T-bone. No fillet. I huff to myself. It’s certainly not The Manor. At The Manor, I can guarantee my wife’s go-to, so I don’t have to stress about her picking from a list. “What would you like, baby?” I ask, silently begging her to choose steak.
“I’m not sure.”
Fuck it.
“I’m having the mussels in garlic,” Joseph says. I glance up, seeing him virtually dribbling at a blackboard on the wall. Seafood. And more seafood. “Bloody delicious,” he adds.
That may be, but definitely not fit for pregnant women. So why the fuck is my wife checking out the blackboard, because there’s no steak listed on there?
“I can’t decide,” Ava muses, deep in thought.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll help you.” I’ll steer her toward steak. Problem solved.
“Mussels or the seafood platter.”
“Neither,” I say quickly. Impulsively. Here we go.
“Why?” Ava asks, a monster frown coming my way. Then... realization. “Oh, come on, Jesse.”
Absolutely not.“No way, lady,” I say, laughing. “Not a chance. There’s some sort of mercury in fish that can damage an unborn baby’s nervous system.” This is non-negotiable. She needs to read the fucking book. “Don’t even try to defy me on this one.”
“Are you going to let me eat anything?” she asks.
“Yes.” What does she think I am, the food police? “Chicken, steak. Both are high in protein, and that’s good for our babies.” I point to the steaks and the chicken, not that she notices. She’s too busy sulking into her water. Neither has she noticed the fact that her parents are staring at us with mouths hanging open.
Bollocks.
Now, if she’d have just ordered steak...
“Do it in style, Ava.” I take a deep breath and release it, waiting for the fireworks, because by the look on Elizabeth’s face, there are definitely going to be some explosions. This is not how I wanted this to go.
“You’re pregnant?” she breathes, eyes jumping between us. Ava’s accusing glare is pointed my way, like this is somehow my fault. But rather than glare back, I look at the menu on the table in front of me, silent.
“Ava?” Joseph says.
“Surprise,” she murmurs.
“But you’ve been married for five minutes.” Elizabeth voice gets higher with every word she speaks, and I reach for my forehead, trying to rub the looming stressed headache away. “Five minutes!”
Slight exaggeration. But of course she’d be dramatic—this is Ava’s mother. What did I expect?
“It was a shotgun wedding, wasn’t it?” she blurts, attention all on me. “You married her because you had to.”
I cough over nothing, locking down every muscle before I shoot up and take the table with me. What a fucking insult after what I went through with my ex-wife—not that she or Ava know. That was shotgun. That was toxic. A fucking nightmare.
“Thanks,” Ava huffs sardonically, obviously as insulted as I am. Good. Then she won’t mind if I have a little trample.
“Elizabeth,” I say calmly, sensing Ava preparing to hold me back. “You know better than that.”
She laughs. Oh, she’s pushing me. Thank God Joseph steps in before I’m forced to sew my dear mother-in-law’s mouth shut. “So you didn’t know at the wedding?” he asks, forcing Elizabeth to back down, though her eyes are waiting keenly for an answer.
“No,” Ava blurts.
I stare at her accusingly. She knew. I suspected. What the fuck does it matter now? And why the hell am I sitting here like an errant child being forced to explain myself? This is ridiculous; my patience is fading by the second. I reach for my forehead and rub again, as Ava gives me an apologetic, sheepish smile. Steak. It was a simple choice. Why the fuck did I bring her here?
“I see,” Joseph says. What does he see? Nothing, because they’re both blind to the endless triggers being thrown my way.
Don’t explode.
Elizabeth exhales as dramatically as I would expect. “I can’t believe it. A pregnant bride suggests only one thing.”
“Then don’t bloody tell anyone,” Ava hisses angrily, getting herself worked up. No. I’m not having this. Pregnant women shouldn’t get stressed. I grab her hand and start rubbing some calmness into her. Easier said than done when I’m fucking reeling myself.
“Elizabeth,” I say more softly than she deserves. “I’m not an eighteen-year-old lad being forced to do the right thing after a quick fuck about with a girl.” Been there, done that, and I’ve paid dearly for it. I feel Ava squeeze my hand, her worried eyes on me. God, if she knew. “I’m thirty-eight years old. Ava is my wife, and I am not having her worked up or upset, so you can accept it and give us your blessing, or you can carry on like this and I’ll take my girl home now.”
Elizabeth’s looks like I’ve just slapped her. God, strike me down, I wish I fucking could, if only to knock the prissiness out of her.
“Now, let’s all just calm down a little, shall we?” Joseph says. I don’t miss the single look he gives his wife. Like... let me handle this. Thank you, Joseph. And please do a better job than your wife. “Ava.” His tone is gentle and his face soft. “How do you feel about this?”
“Fine.”
I can’t hide my shock. She can’t think of a better word?
“Perfect,” she blurts. “Couldn’t be happier.”
Much better.
“Well, then,” Joseph says, relaxing back in his chair, satisfied. “They’re married, financially stable...” He chuckles. I think it’s for my benefit. “And they’re bloody adults, Elizabeth. Get a grip.” He flashes her a rare smile. “You’re going to be a granny.”
I snort, hiding my smile before Elizabeth lays me out. She looks like someone’s just told her I’ve pissed in her wine. My God, she’s painfully exasperating.
“I will not be a granny,” she says, outraged. “I’m forty-seven years old.”
She just can’t help herself.
“I could be a nana, though.”
“You can be whatever you like, Elizabeth,” I breathe, done with my testing mother-in-law for the day. Or the year. One night, I tell myself. Just get through this one night.
“And you should watch your language, Jesse Ward,” she mutters, smacking the top of my menu. “Wait!”
“For what?” Joseph asks.
Yes, what drama has she thought up now?
“You said babies, plural,” she says, her usually arched brows straight from her frown.
Oh.
“You said our babies.”
“Twins.” I find Ava’s belly and rub it, smiling. “Two babies. Two grandchildren.”
Joseph laughs. “Well, I’ll be damned. Now, that really is very special. Congratulations!”
Agree, Joseph. Really special. And Ava’s smiling, finally.
“Twins?” Elizabeth gasps. I watch in disappointment as my wife’s smile fades. “Oh, Ava, darling, you are going to be exhausted. What?—”
“No, she won’t,” I snap before she gets going again. “She’s got me. End of.”
Elizabeth takes the warning, backing off. Have we finally reached an understanding? Take the opportunity, Elizabeth. Make it count.
She softens, her body and her face. “And you have us, darling. I’m so sorry. It’s just a bit of a shock. You’ll always have us,” she says, reaching for Ava and taking her hand.
Smiling fondly, I watch mother and daughter come together, but I can see the wave of uncertainty ripple across Ava’s face. God damn you, Elizabeth.
I get her attention and move in closer, holding her hand tight. Never to be let go. “You have me.” I will be there day and night, be hands-on, do all the things. She’ll never feel lonely, she’ll never feel unappreciated. Everything I am and have will be put into our future. I’ll probably drive her crazy. Standard. And she’ll undoubtedly continue to push my buttons. It’s who we are. What we do.
“Have you decided?” a waitress asks.
I return her enthusiastic smile, feeling Ava’s palm find its way onto my leg. “I’ll have the steak, please,” she says. I look at Ava, who’s forcing a smile at the waitress. I look at the waitress, who’s not forcing a smile at me. It’s a natural smile. Coy.
Oh.
I sink into my chair, looking between them, bracing myself.
“I’ll have the steak,” Ava says again, slow and clearly. “Medium.”
I glance at the waitress briefly, mentally yelling at her not to poke the bear.
“Pardon?”
“The steak,” Ava grates. “Medium. Would you like me to write it down for you?”
I laugh under my breath, despite myself. I shouldn’t love it when she gets all possessive. But I do.
“Oh, of course.” The waitress snaps out of her daze. “And for you?”
“Mussels for me.” Joseph raises his brows at me, and I shrug, remembering one of the first things he said to me as his eyes climbed my body. You’re an impressive human, aren’t you? What can I say?
Elizabeth places her menu down, giving me a similar interested look. I shrug at her too. “The seafood platter for me. And I’ll have another wine.”
“And for you, sir?” the waitress asks, still writing. And smiling at me again.
Shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. But... “What would you recommend?” I ask.
“The lamb is good.”
“He’ll have the same as me,” Ava snaps, snatching the menus up and thrusting them at her. I chuckle. “Medium.”
“The wife has spoken,” I muse, pulling Ava closer. “I do as I’m told, so it looks like I’m having the steak.”
Ava jerks in my hold, and I look at her fondly as her parents laugh at our shenanigans. “You’re impossible,” she mumbles while I dedicate a bit of time to her throat with my lips. “And since when do you do what you’re told?”
“Ava, that was really quite rude. Jesse can make his own meal choices,” Elizabeth says. And she loves me again.
“It’s okay.” I don’t come up for air. “She knows what I like.”
“You like to be impossible.”
“I love watching you in trampling action.” I nip at her ear, smiling when she shudders. “I could bend you over this table and fuck you really hard.” And my mother-in-law would hate me again. Do I care?
Ava gathers herself and turns the tables. “Stop saying the word fuck, unless you’re going to fuck me,” she whispers.
“Watch your mouth.”
“No.”
“Cheeky.”
“Let’s raise a toast!” Joseph sings, forcing me away from mauling Ava’s cheek. “To twins.”
“To twins,” Elizabeth says, prompting me to lift my glass of water. Ava’s smiling again. I scrunch my nose, squeeze her knee, and hit my glass with the others. “Excuse me, I need the men’s,” I say, getting up and leaving the table. I feel Ava’s eyes follow me, so I look back, finding her dark gaze on my arse. She’s asking for it. And I know she’s going to ask for it at her parents’ house. And I know she’s going to want it hard.
I ponder how I might handle that while I search for the waitress to tell her to make sure Ava’s steak is well-done. But to tell her it’s medium when it’s served.