35. Ava
THIRTY-FIVE
AVA
“Pretty please, can we go ice skating?” Josie asks, her nose pressed to the window as Brayden and his friend glide across the iced-over pond. They’ve got their hockey sticks and a puck, though with the sun setting so quickly, I can’t imagine they can see well enough to accomplish anything.
“Maybe another day, love. You’ll have to ask Tyler to go with you. I don’t know how to skate.”
The door to the garage opens and closes, drawing our attention.
“Daddy,” Scarlett cries as the man himself walks into the house wearing a pair of joggers and a long-sleeve Bolts shirt. I swear everyone I know lives in Bolts attire. Thank god there’s such a good selection to choose from around Boston. Today’s shirt is black, and god, does it look good on my husband.
Josie watches longingly as he drops his gym bag to the floor and scoops up our daughter. I only recently noticed this. The way she goes quiet when Scarlett says Daddy or Mama. I can’t blame her. We’re all trying not to get our hopes up. While Scarlett may be ours, Josie is not yet. And god, do I ache to tell her she can call us whatever she wants.
When Tyler spots Josie where she’s sitting by the window, he sticks out his bottom lip and holds out his other arm. “No hi from my other favorite girl? ”
Josie glances at me, then Tyler again. “What about Ava?”
He strides across the room and scoops her up before she can protest. “Ava is my wife. You and Scar are my girls. So you going to say hi to me now?”
She rolls her eyes but snuggles into him. “Ava doesn’t know how to skate.”
With both girls in his arms, he rounds on me. “You what ?”
Not able to hide my smile, I shrug. “No one ever taught me.”
Tyler’s eyes soften as he studies me. He’s probably thinking of my confession the other night. How alone I was growing up. It’s sweet, the way he holds me now until we both fall asleep. How every morning since then, I’ve woken to him pressing kisses to my skin. I swear he must search my body while I sleep, looking for every scar. I have quite a few, but he hasn’t said another word about it. He’s giving me space. Leaving the ball in my court. He’ll listen if I want to talk, but he won’t pressure me to do so. It’s the same for me, though. Since the night when I told Dory what a shitty person she was, I feel like things have shifted between us. He knows I have his back, and I know he has mine. We’re settling into a new partnership, a new normal. I’m not sure where that will lead us, but for once, I’m not going to focus on the past or the future. I’d much rather focus on the man who’s holding two perfect little girls in his arms, a man I am not so slowly falling for.
“We’ll have to rectify that tonight.”
My stomach twists as I glance out the window. “It’s dark out.”
He arches a brow. “You scared of the dark, Vicious?”
I sigh. “I’m making dinner.” That’s not a lie. Maria helped me make meatballs before she left for the night. She’s slowly reducing her hours, and although I’ll miss spending so much time with her, it’s what we need.
“Okay. Jos, why don’t we set the table for dinner? Then you and I can work on convincing Ava to let me teach her how to skate.”
Josie is all smiles as he lowers her to her feet. While Tyler sets Scarlett up in front of the television, I head back to the kitchen to check on the sauce. A moment later, he steps up behind me and grasps the oven handle on either side of my hips. With his face buried in my hair, he kisses my neck. “Hi, wifey. ”
A shiver works its way down my spine, and heat pools in my belly. Enveloped in the scent of him, I lean my head against his. If we could stay like this, in this little bubble, I could be happy forever. “How was your day?”
“It’s always a good day when I wake up next to my wife and come home to find her with a smile on her face.”
Head tipped back, I give him a small smile. “You keep saying these things, and you’re going to get lucky, Mr. Warren.”
He kisses my cheek. “I’m already lucky; I married you, didn’t I?”
“Tyler, you’re supposed to be helping,” Josie whines as she holds up the forks.
Chuckling, he backs away and pads to the table.
After Brayden’s friend leaves, he comes in and gets cleaned up for dinner. While we wait for him, Josie asks Tyler a zillion and one questions. We’re just settling down at the table when she narrows her eyes and points at Tyler’s hand. “Did you get hurt at practice?”
I follow her line of sight and find a bandage wrapped around the base of his pinky and ring finger. “What happened?”
“Just had to finish a little something,” he says with a wink.
Brayden chuckles. “Another tattoo?”
“I want a tattoo,” Josie whines.
I pat her on the back. “Nothing permanent until you’re at least twenty-five.”
Tyler cocks his head. “Why’s that?”
I shrug. I’m new at this mom thing, so the number just came to me, but it sounds about right. Isn’t that when a person’s frontal lobe is fully developed? Something like that. “What did you get?”
When Tyler smirks, eyes twinkling, I regret asking. He looks at me like he wants to eat me alive. And he’d enjoy it. Slowly, he unravels the bandage. Then he turns to show us the back of his hand and the three letters inked on his ring finger in the same green as the band just below them. “So everyone knows who my heart belongs to.”
“A-V-A,” Josie says.
“You tattooed my name on your finger,” I whisper, my heart pounding wildly and my gaze bouncing from the fresh tattoo to his blue eyes. Blue eyes that are beginning to feel like home .
The man didn’t use words to tell me he loved me the other night. He didn’t offer me platitudes when I broke down. He kissed every scar and then tattooed my name on his ring finger. He doesn’t just say things, he does them.
My heart doesn’t stand a chance.
“Do you have a tattoo for me?” Josie asks.
Tyler watches me as I swipe at my eyes, then turns to our inquisitive girl. “I have a few, actually.” He pulls the hem of his shirt up. There’s another bandage, but he points at another set of not so new tattoos. “Right here I’ve got your birthday. And Brayden’s and Scarlett’s are right below it.”
“That’s not my birthday,” Josie argues, her little brows pulled low. “That’s a bunch of lines.”
“It’s roman numerals.” The words are hard to get out and filled with emotion. Because our wedding date is listed there too. God, this man has been busy.
“That’s cool,” Brayden says, his voice coming out hoarse.
Clearly, Tyler’s affection still surprises us all. It shouldn’t. He doesn’t hide it. He’s continuously telling us. Continuously showing us. I imagine it’s what he would have wanted all those years ago from his father and Dory. Another bolt of rage flows through me as I imagine a boy just shy of Brayden’s age, with the same insecurities, without a man like Tyler to put him first.
I hate that he didn’t have that. That he ever went to bed at night feeling unloved. That won’t be Brayden’s story. I’ll make sure of it.
“Do you have more for Ava?” Josie says.
Tyler’s smirk is back. “Sure do.”
My heart lurches. He cannot be talking about the Vicious tattoo. I’ll melt into a puddle of mortification right here if he even hints to it.
“Where?” Josie is up on her knees, practically leaning across the table to see.
Tyler removes the bandage above his ribs. It’s a few intricate designs all twined together with a red ribbon. “There’s a hockey stick for Bray, a boxing glove because you’re my fighter, and a ballet shoe for my ballerina, Ava. They’re all wrapped in a red bow for Scarlett. I got it over my lung because I need you to breathe.” His eyes lift to mine and he holds my gaze as he adds, “Each and every one of you.”
“Can you teach me to box?” Josie asks. God, I’ve never been more thankful for her curiosity and that nine-year-old brain jumping from one topic to another. If I had to speak right now, I don’t think I could.
Because I can’t breathe. His words. This moment. That damn tattoo. It’s stolen my breath.
“Yup, I want to show you something when we’re done with dinner anyway.”
“Better not be ice skates,” I murmur, emotion still making it difficult to speak.
Brayden’s eyes go wide. “You don’t like to skate?”
“She doesn’t know how to skate,” Tyler says, his gaze remaining on me.
I roll my eyes, finally feeling a bit more like myself. Tyler’s taunting normally does that. “Anyway?—”
“No, we won’t let that slide in this house,” Brayden says.
Jaw dropping, I scoff. “Excuse you?”
“Tyler, tell her. Your mom taught you to skate. You taught me, and we taught Josie, just like we’ll teach Scarlett when she’s old enough.”
Tyler’s grin is so big it’s blinding. He has the most beautiful smile. Especially when he’s the one who’s surprised like this. Bray tries to play it cool, but for a moment, he stepped out from behind that facade and showed just how much he loves Tyler by including himself in this family.
He’s making traditions. We’re making traditions . There’s no stopping my smile. “So you trying to tell me you guys need to teach me?”
“Definitely,” Brayden and Tyler say in unison.
“Fine,” I grumble in fake annoyance. “But you better not let me fall.”
Tyler’s lips curl as he holds out that damn pinky finger. “I’d never let you fall, wifey. Pinky promise.”
Rather than head out into the cold, dark night to skate after dinner, Tyler herds us all down to the gym in the basement for another surprise.
“No one’s peeking, right?”
Brayden’s got his hands over Josie’s eyes, and Tyler’s covering mine. “Unless I can somehow see through your massive fingers, I think it’s safe to say we can’t see.”
Tyler’s lips brush against the shell of my ear. “We both know you love my fingers, wifey.”
There goes that shiver again.
“Come on, come on. I want to see,” Josie cajoles. A moment later, her high-pitched squeals echo off the walls.
“Ah, crap,” Brayden grumbles. “Sorry. She was bouncing too much, and I didn’t want to hurt her.”
“A ballet barre,” Josie screeches as Tyler pulls his hand away from my face. She darts over to the wall of mirrors and the beautiful barre that was not here last week when Brayden showed me the room. There’s also a beautiful section of brand-new flooring.
Holding my breath, I whip around and survey my husband. “When did you do this?”
With a casual shrug, Tyler slips his hands into the pockets of his joggers. “Wanted you and Josie to have a place to practice. Ya know, so you don’t have to go into the city so much.”
I purse my lips to hold back my laughter. “You built a ballet studio because you’re jealous.”
Tyler cocks a brow. “Do I look like the jealous type?”
“You tattooed my name on your finger. You threw a temper tantrum when I wore your friend’s jersey, then knocked him on his butt. Hmm, am I missing anything?”
“I built a ballet studio so no other man can see you in a leotard,” he mutters as he walks past me. Then, schooling his expression, he drops down to Josie’s height. “What do you think? Did I do okay?”
She throws her arms around his neck. “You did the best.”
He did. And I’m starting to realize he always does.