Chapter 31
I sensed her anticlimactic state as I rolled carefully down the bumpy, dusty track toward the villa. The grass outside the boundary was scorched and the trees looked sad, but the smell of honeysuckle? It brought Paradise back to me with a vengeance.
When I finally pulled through the gates, the scenery changed completely, as did Ava’s face—transforming from disappointment to disbelief. I smiled as I watched her get out of the car and explore the front of the villa, her mouth constantly open, her sounds of awe satisfying. It’s good to be here. Amazing, actually. Because I’m here with Ava.
Not lonely.
I knew she’d love it. “What’s my beautiful girl thinking?” I ask from my place perched on the bonnet of the Aston.
“I’m thinking I’ve just officially arrived on Central Jesse Cloud Nine,” she says, smelling the honeysuckle over the veranda.
“Where?” I ask on a light laugh, but she doesn’t feed my interest and instead runs at me, her face a picture of excitement and appreciation. Mine’s gotta match. I catch her in my arms and accept her kiss.
“It’s my most favorite place in the world,” she mumbles around my lips. Removing my shades, she gazes down at me, scanning my face with such concentration, it could be the first time she’s looked at me.
“Are you happy?” I ask. This is what any man should live for. This look on his wife, this feeling of serenity and calm.
“Delirious.’”
“Then my work here is done.” But it’ll never be done. I have a quick nibble of her hot neck before I put her down, excited to show her the inside and the showstopper view of the Med.
I fetch the bags, Ava fetches her handbag, and I let us inside, dumping the cases down. “Wait here,” I say, leaving her in the dusky darkness as I go back outside and work my way around the veranda, opening all of the shutters. By the time I get back inside, she’s nowhere to be seen. Exploring. I take a quick gaze around, familiarizing myself with the inside, as I haven’t seen it since the renovations were completed. They did a great job. But what a fucking waste that it’s been sitting here empty for so long. I can fix that. I wander around searching for Ava, opening and closing doors, going to the kitchen. I go to the glass doors, spotting her on the grass by the pool, looking out to the sea. The view. Fucking incredible, today especially so. And the sunset here is one of the best I’ve ever seen, the sun literally sinking into the sea. I smile, retrieve the key from the hook by the door, and wander out, breathing in the fresh air. No pollution. No sound of traffic. Just the gentle rush of waves. I glance up and down the deserted beach, a mile each way of absolutely nothing. And there never will be, because I own the land.
I follow Ava past the pool to the gate that leads to the beach, reaching past her and slipping the key into the lock, pushing it open for her.
She tiptoes across the wooden steps and arrives on the sand, and I watch her taking it all in. Feeling the peace and happiness radiating off her. I move in behind her and circle my arms around her upper body, pulling her back into my chest. “Still on Central Jesse Cloud Nine?” I ask quietly, her hair whipping my face in the breeze.
“I am,” she sighs, content. “Where are you?”
“Me?” Moving my hands to her stomach, stroking, and kissing her cheek, I breathe out. “Baby,” I whisper, wondering how I ever dared think to sell this place. “I’m in paradise.” And it’s never been as blissful as it is now. How I would have loved to have brought Rosie here. Taught her to swim in the sea, build sandcastles, let her run free for miles. It never happened. Couldn’t. She never had a passport, and if she did, I would never have been granted that privilege.
As soon as the twins are old enough to fly, we’ll be bringing them here. I’ll get past the demons that keep me from Paradise by then, I have to, because my kids can’t ever miss out on this place. And now Ava’s seen it, briefly experienced it? She’ll want to come back too, guaranteed. Which means I may have to swallow my fear of judgment and shame and share that last piece of crucial information from my past. “Come,” I say, linking our hands on her belly, nuzzling her neck. “We have food being delivered and I need to give you a tour.” I turn her but remain behind her, walking us back to the villa.
“It’s wonderful,” she says wistfully. But she has so much more on her mind, I know that.
“Agree.” We make it back inside, and I show her around, taking in the renovations myself too. She’s impressed. I’m impressed. How could we not be? It’s something else. I show her to the master bedroom, laugh when she flops back on the giant bed, and grin when she eyes the huge walk-in shower, her smile coy and suggestive. “Nice shower,” she muses, dragging her fingers across the glass screen as she wanders around.
“It is.”
She stops at the sink and looks into the mirror, reaching for her hair and tucking a stray strand behind her ear. “Nice mirror,” she says softly.
“Oh, it is.” I move in and take her hips, crowding her from behind, getting my face close to hers. “Nice reflection.” It will be better when she’s naked and bent over, and I’m taking her from behind. Softly.
“Oh, it is,” she breathes, giving me a teasing push of her arse into my groin.
I fail to suppress my groan, feeling activity behind my fly. “God, woman, you kill me.”
“Shame,” she says, turning quickly and tackling my mouth. “It’s been far too long since you’ve been inside me, husband.”
Boom.
My insides explode, and my tongue duels with hers, my hands reaching for her top to rip off. Gently.
But I’m stopped when the doorbell chimes. “Oh my God,” Ava gasps, her flushed face pointing toward the door. “Who’s that?”
I grin, tampering down the want. For now. “Grocery delivery.” I readjust my groin, in physical pain, and take her hand. “Come on.”
She groans her annoyance but lets me pull her back to the kitchen. I leave her at the island poking in and out of drawers, familiarizing herself with the space, as I answer the door. Three crates are on the veranda, another being carried from the van by a bearded, old Spanish man. “Gracias,” I say, picking up the first and hauling it inside, slipping it onto the counter. “Three more,” I say, heading back out.
After getting them all inside, I tip the man, and shut out the world, returning to the kitchen. She’s started to unpack, inspecting all of the groceries, so I unload the crates onto the counter and then stack them by the door. “You okay while I sort the cases?” I ask, picking them up.
“Wonderful,” she breathes, inspecting a pack of lamb.
I smile and leave my wife feeling wonderful, heading to the bedroom. I lay Ava’s case on the bed for her and open it, ready for her to unpack, and put mine in the corner for now. I need to call John.
I step outside and wander down to the beach again, looking back to the villa when he answers. “How’s Paradise?”
“You’ll have to come out and see for yourself.”
“I’m kind of busy,” he grunts. It’s not a very subtle hint that he’s alone and dealing with everything, including not being able to find a damn thing.
“Ava sorted some of the filing,” I say.
“She sorted the bank statements and some invoices. The mountain has multiplied since. The accountants are still waiting for various paperwork, I have suppliers chasing payments, and I can’t even access the bank accounts to pay them.”
“Did you see Sarah?”
“I saw Sarah.”
“And?”
“Drunk.”
My hand rubs at my forehead, my exhale long and loud. It’s not the worst-case scenario, but it’s a step toward it. “And now?”
“Now I’m waiting for you to do the right thing and tell me she can come back, not only for her well-being, but for yours and mine too. Jesse, we’re in a fucking mess here, boy.”
“Jesus, John,” I whisper, the pull inside real and fucking horrid. Another death on my hands. I can’t. Ava must understand that. I haven’t got time to even consider trying to come to grips with The Manor’s filing system. I breathe in and brace myself to say the forbidden words. “Get her back,” I say, closing my eyes. Sweating. “I’ll talk to Ava.” Not looking forward to that.
“She’ll understand, I’m sure.”
“Yeah,” I say, not convinced. But perhaps when I’ve reminded her that I can’t run The Manor and be there for her twenty-four seven, she may see Sarah’s return as a blessing. I pray. “Make sure Sarah understands the conditions.”
“Understood.” Naturally, he doesn’t need to ask what those conditions are.
“And if Ava says she’s out, she’s out.”
“Understood. Heard from Steve?”
“No.” I’ll give him some grace since I’m out of town with Ava. Safe. “He can have the weekend.” And I’m sure he’ll call if he digs something up.
“I’ve got to go. The installation team from the new security firm need me. Try to relax, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I breathe, staring down at my feet. “Call me if you need me.” I turn my face up to the sun as I hang up and close my eyes, trying to push everything into a box while we’re here. Enjoy this time.
My mobile rings as I’m walking back into the villa, and my heart misses a few beats. Shit. One last attempt from Amalie to convince me to go to her wedding? “I’m sorry, darling,” I whisper, sending her call to voicemail. I’m pretty sure my family would be so thankful for Ava being in my life. I’m certain they’d love her and be over the moon that we’re expecting. But I think of my parents, and I’m jarred. Angry. They’re a trigger, something that always sent me to the bottle. They made me marry Lauren. And to try to make amends with them would be to risk what I have with Ava now. They’re the key to the last skeletons in my cupboard. And I’m not ready to open that door.