Chapter 12 #3
If I believed in the sort of thing that happened in romance movies, the instant love, the moment where the world came into clarity and there stood the woman who had brought me that clarity, I would have pinned that as the moment I fell in love with Ava Shelton. But I didn’t believe in those things.
Clearing my throat, I said, “Jill married one of my men, Bobbie, right after she graduated. I warned him not to, but he didn’t listen.
Most of my men know getting involved with a woman is dangerous.
This isn’t the life to bring a woman and children into.
” If the abrupt change of subject back to our original discussion bothered her, she didn’t show any reaction.
“I took her on as my housekeeper when she couldn’t find work and eventually added more responsibilities.
It kept her safe and Bobbie happy. Bobby was shot on a job.
Took a bullet to the heart and died instantly.
” She winced, her hand shaking as she lowered her wine glass.
“I kept Jill on, paid for her house, her car, all her bills. Paid the tuition for their son. I did what I could once I hunted down his killer and let him bleed for days until I couldn’t stand his whining anymore and gutted him. ”
Her skin paled.
“I’m not the good guy, Ava. I take care of my people…” Even if some stabbed me in the back. My mood shifted further. “…but I’m still a killer and a criminal. Don’t forget that just because I can have a civil conversation and a drink with you.”
“Morally gray.”
“What?”
A smile formed. “You’re what they call morally gray in the books Riley and I read.”
“And what books are those?”
A beautiful flick of her fingers sent a crumb cascading through the air. “Mafia romances, bully romances, the really dark stuff.”
“Good God. She married my brother and reads mafia romance books?”
“I guess she knew what she liked. A morally gray man who would burn the world down for his woman.”
“Is that what you want?” I asked, leaning closer to her.
“If you mean a man who will avenge anyone who hurts me, who holds me through my nightmares, who makes sure I have hot coffee when I wake up late? Then yes.”
The inhale I took was like the drag of a knife through my chest. “I kill people for a living, Ava.”
“You killed a man who killed Jill’s husband. Then took care of her like he would have wanted. I don’t see the bad in that.”
Rubbing my temples, I shook my head again. “You are something, Ava Shelton.”
“Why?” she asked with a crooked grin. “Don’t your sexy model women think the same way?”
I tilted my head, unsure if she was trying to goad me into something or if she was teasing me.
“First, there’s barely any talking when I’m with them.
” An uncomfortable fidgeting of her legs told me she didn’t like that answer.
“Second, they’re not my women because I don’t have a woman.
And third, what makes you think they’re any sexier than you? ”
Her mouth parted, her eyes flitting up to meet mine.
“Or that you couldn’t be a model?”
She snorted this time. “That’s funny.” She picked at a rip in her jeans—the one big enough for me to see her knee and half her thigh. Hardly something I would have attributed Jill to buying, but they fit Ava’s personality.
“It’s not,” I muttered before finishing my drink. “Besides, just because you thought you knew my type, doesn’t mean everyone in my business has that same type.” I’d thought I did, but how wrong I was.
“I guess you’re right.” She pulled her knees back up to her chin.
“You’re the third boss I’ve met in a matter of months.
I didn’t know this world really existed except in my books and on screen.
And here I am, captured by one. Kidnapped after attending the wedding of one—whose wife looks like a model, might I add.
A wedding where her brother, another boss, walked her down the aisle and his girlfriend was her maid of honor.
Talk about adorable. Casey is the definition of it and yeah, she’s curvy and cute.
And don’t even get me started on Angie. Holy cow, she looks like she stepped out of one of those fashion magazines. ”
She was rattling on about how beautiful these women were, and it bewildered me.
As confident as she was, as sure of herself as she seemed, she didn’t see she was just as alluring.
I had seen pictures of Tyson’s girl, Angela Donelli, but I didn’t know who Casey was.
My intel lately had been lacking with my focus on other things.
I had everything on the boss in the province north of mine, Donelli, including his daughter Angie.
Ava was right. Angie was hot, but Ava was no less.
Dropping my glass on the table, I stood and stepped over to her.
She was still going on about Tyson’s girl and how she had fit perfectly in her bridesmaid’s dress while Ava and Casey had to get theirs adjusted.
Boring talk I couldn't care less about. Her words halted when I leaned over her chair, my face close to hers.
“Stop.”
She drew in a breath. Her eyes studied mine, the moonlight sparkling in them.
I wanted to tell her she was the most alluring thing I’d seen, that no matter the women I’d had in the past, none compared to her because they didn’t come close.
That I suspected I was falling for her because she was exactly what I’d never known I needed.
To tell her I would trade every one-night stand I had ever had, every night of pleasure, for one hour of time with her, for one smile, one laugh, one word from her.
But I didn’t. I hovered there, so close, yet a distance remained because it had to.
She was my prisoner and whatever this was couldn’t happen.
“I never want to hear you compare yourself to another woman again or I’ll lock you in that basement.
” A flash of fear had my eyes creasing. There was something about the basement that frightened her other than the purpose it served me.
The reaction she’d had the night before was too extreme.
Yet she kept her secrets, just as I kept mine.
I backed up and held my hand out to her. “Come on, it’s getting late.”
She looked at me for another moment before she placed her hand in mine. A slight gesture but one that spoke of the trust she had for me, trust she shouldn’t have had and that I would likely break.
Grabbing her shirt and book from the main room, I led her to my room, hating how normal this appeared and how I was looking forward to holding her.
The medication she needed would be here in the morning and then she would be back in her room at night.
It should have been a reassuring thought, but it wasn’t.
Instead, it left a strange ache in my chest. One I avoided acknowledging for fear of having to admit what it meant.