Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
AVA
Ikeep things simple for tonight’s dinner, opting for my favorite pair of jeans and a comfortable white V-neck that’s just oversized enough to not make me feel insecure.
I’ve noticed a definite rounding of my stomach in the last week, bringing forth feelings of immeasurable joy and debilitating fear.
If I’d have pictured what my life would be like even just a year ago, the last thing I would’ve ever imagined would be sitting in the guest bedroom of Kasey’s cabin, a wedding ring on my finger and a baby in my belly.
Especially considering it’s not his baby.
I won’t be able to hide this pregnancy for too much longer—I have maybe a month, six weeks at most. A part of me feels like I should rip the Band-Aid and tell everyone about my pregnancy now, but another part of me—an achingly tired and more desperate part—wants to hide it forever.
To get through this marriage and find a way to run away again before I have to face the judgement I know is coming.
The longer I wait, the more I risk someone discovering it and wrongfully assuming the baby is Kasey’s. I’d never be able to forgive myself if word got around that we might happily be expecting our first child together, knowing what that might do to him, to his family.
Especially after he already offered to help me, to take responsibility.
My heart clenches at the sheer selflessness.
Kasey is the kind of man Tobias could never, ever hope to be.
Not when his first instinct was to give me all the reasons I should end the pregnancy, and then take it to the partners to use against me when I refused.
I haven’t heard from him in weeks, and it makes me anxious.
It could be that he’s finally given up on trying to control me, but he’s not exactly the type to give up when someone around him doesn’t submit.
I sigh, leaning over to pull on the old boots I brought over from my dad’s house, figuring it’s time to get over my general boycott of a practical wardrobe.
I’ve held on to my tailored suits and pencil skirts for as long as I could, to every scrap of power I was able to create for myself outside of the walls of this town, but that’s over now.
Plus, Kasey’s right—the heels were starting to hurt.
The boots still fit like a dream, and I can’t deny how much more comfortable they are. At least it’ll make Kasey happy to see I’ve finally made the switch. Not that I’m particularly interested in making him happy.
Standing to go meet Kasey out in the living room, I’m surprised to find him hovering in the open doorway, watching me with an unreadable expression on his face. “You ready?” he asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“How long have you been standing there?”
He shrugs. “Not long.” But I can tell from how he quickly looks away, trying to hide a dark expression, that he’s been watching me for a while.
“Liar,” I tease.
He rolls his eyes, muttering, “You still think very highly of yourself.”
The insult lands roughly, though I’m not surprised—he’s said much worse. Still, after the last few days of seemingly getting along with him, the words hurt. But when I really look at him, I realize he’s . . . anxious. Maybe a little bothered. “You okay?”
“Fine.” But his hands clench into fists at his sides as he seems to be getting more and more worked up about something. “Let’s go.”
I frown, deciding it best to listen as I head toward the bedroom door.
But instead of turning to walk down the hallway in front of me, Kasey flattens himself against the wall to let me pass.
As I brush past him, I hear the unmistakable sound of his deep inhale, feel the faintest flutter of his nose against the top of my head.
Oh. Oh.
Heat pools low in my belly as I realize Kasey’s not irritated—at least not in the way I thought. He’s . . . turned on. And he’s trying to fight it.
The ego of a half feral cat blooms inside of me, stretching out and scratching at the door to be let loose. Suddenly, this feels like a challenge. And I’m nothing if not a petty girl who loves a good challenge.
When Kasey reaches for his keys on the counter, I tell him it’s a good night for walking, pointing to the boots on my feet as assurance that I can handle the trek.
The truth is a walk along the pasture sounds divine, and it gives me plenty of opportunity to have a little fun with my handsome new groom.
I’ve had these jeans long enough to know they’re just at that level of worn to be forgiving of some of my new curves, since it’s not just my stomach that’s been rounding out.
I walk with the swagger of a jungle cat, swinging my hips side to side as we make our way toward the main house.
Kasey stays quiet behind me, but I feel the weight of his attention like a caress against the back of my neck.
“What are you doing?” he asks gruffly when we’re a little over halfway there.
I turn and bat my eyes through a mask of innocence. “What do you mean?”
His stare turns near-lethal.
I grin, turning back around to continue on.
By the time we make it to the house I figure I’ve won our little game, since Kasey hasn’t uttered another word, but just as I’m about to round the corner to the front of the house, a thick arm curls around my ribs and yanks me backward.
I’m pulled off my feet by the sheer force of it, hurling into a wall of stone that turns out to be Kasey’s chest. I forgot what it was like to be handled by him.
How he used to lift me like it was nothing, used to overpower me in the best of ways—a wildly underrated benefit of dating a cowboy who regularly works ranch chores.
Kasey spins me around so I’m facing him, then backs me into the side of the house. My heart hammers as he wraps a palm around my waist, squeezing, pulling my hips against him. “Have I told you lately how crazy you make me, sugar?” His eyes glow with fierce desire and wicked challenge.
I grin, arching into him. “You know, I think you may have mentioned it once or twice, but I honestly don’t remember. Care to remind me?”
“Really fucking crazy,” he murmurs, eyes dipping to my cheek before falling to my mouth.
“Well, that’s too bad.” I hold up the back of my hand to show him the ring on my finger. “I think you’re kinda stuck with me now.”
He doesn’t look at it, keeping his gaze trained on my lips, his eyes growing distant and murky. “Yeah? You think?”
“Yeah. Well . . . at least until—”
I’m interrupted by a kiss so fierce it buckles my knees.
Kasey devours me.
Calloused fingers drag against the skin beneath the hem of my shirt as his tongue strokes deep into my mouth.
His hips press harshly into mine, trapping me against the wall with a low grunt.
I’m consumed by the heat of him, everywhere, all over me, as his other hand angles my face to better fit against his, like two long-separated pieces of the same puzzle, finally slotting together.
There’s no mistaking it: this kiss isn’t to prove anything to anyone else.
This one is just for us.
“Be good, Ava,” he says roughly into the curve of my ear as he tries to pull away from me.
“You’re the one pinning me against the house like the world is ending,” I rasp, clutching him tighter, not ready to let go.
He groans as he reaches for my wrist and tears himself loose, like it’s the last thing he wants to do.
“Behave,” he begs.
“Or what?”
I’m pushing too hard—I know it. I see it in the way he’s obviously fighting a losing battle. And yet, I can’t stop.
His eyes are so dark they match the night sky.
“Fuck,” he growls, turning away from me, reaching to adjust himself through his pants. “Let’s go.”
He leaves me panting and breathless and much colder than I was mere moments ago.
But as I push off the wall to catch up to him, I can’t help the wide smile that pulls at my cheeks. I feel more alive than I have in years.
Dinner goes well, all things considered.
I feel like a fish out of water sitting at the table with Kasey (who won’t look at me), both of his parents, Layla, and all three nephews.
Rhett and Wells are tending the bar—they’ve picked up shifts for the next few nights to give Kasey and me a chance to “get comfortable” with our new living arrangement—and Brooks opts out of dinner altogether.
Without any of his brothers around, the spotlight of everyone’s attention falls on Kasey and, therefore, me.
But I expected it. How could I not? Kasey just committed fraud for this family, to protect their home and their assets.
Everyone at this table knows our marriage isn’t real—except maybe the boys who probably don’t even know the ranch was under threat to begin with—and it’s honestly kind of freeing not to have to lie or put up any pretenses about it.
“So, Ava,” Mrs. Bennett asks over her plate of barbecue chicken and collard greens, “what brought you back to Saddlebrook Falls?”
I swallow down a mouthful of food. “My job sort of went . . . sideways,” I explain.
Kasey snorts, jaw ticking.
“Aw, that’s too bad,” his mom says, scrunching her nose. “But there’s no place like home to figure out what’s next!”
“You’re a lawyer?” Mr. Bennett asks.
“Yes, sir.”
He grunts, slicing a gaze to his wife. She picks up a bottle of white wine and points at me.
“Would you like a glass?”
“Oh, no thank you—I’m trying to cut back.”
“Good on you!” Mr. Bennett gruffly declares.
“What about you, honey?” she asks Kasey.
“I’ll stick to my beer, thanks.”
“I’d love some,” Layla chimes in.
“That’s my girl.” Mrs. Bennett beams.
I try not to let it sting.
I’m not sure why it even would.