Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
DEAN
Ava and Bella stand in the doorway, watching us with wide eyes.
They’re both clearly surprised, but Bella is having the more…powerful reaction.
A fact she proves as she sticks out her tongue and makes another gagging sound so loud and visceral, I point a finger at her face and warn, “Bella, don’t. You’re going to make yourself sick. And if you make yourself sick, you can’t have pizza. And I know you want pizza.”
She presses her lips together, wrinkling her nose before announcing, “Okay, but no licking, Daddy. Licking is gross.” She sighs, clearly disturbed as she continues her lecture, “We don’t lick our friends.
We keep our tongues to ourselves. If you keep licking her, you’re going to make Clover feel sick, too! ”
Clover snorts in amusement. “It’s okay, Bella. Daddy doesn’t make me feel sick. I really like your daddy. And I like the way he kisses me. Sometimes, when grown-ups really like each other, they kiss like that. It’s not a big deal.”
Ava’s eyes get even bigger. “Really?”
I nod. “Yeah.” I glance Clover’s way before I add, “I mean, it is kind of a big deal, because I really like Clover, too.” I take her hand, loving the way her fingers thread through mine.
A united front, we turn back to the girls.
“But it’s nothing you guys need to be upset about, I promise.
Now, who wants salad while we wait for the pizza to finish cooking? ”
“I do,” Bella cheers, her disgust a thing of the past as she hurries over to the table. “I love salad! Clover, did you put broccoli in it this time?”
“I did,” Clover says. “And edamame, the little hard green beans you like.”
Bella cheers again, but Ava continues to hesitate at the door, prompting me to ask, “Is everything okay, Ava? If you have more questions about Clover and me, you can ask them. That’s fine.
” We didn’t plan on having the “we’re more than friends” talk with the girls tonight, but now that we’ve been caught, I don’t see any other choice but to face it head-on.
“Okay,” Ava says, propping one foot on top of the other as she leans against the doorframe, tugging on her ear the way she used to do when she was feeling stressed out as a toddler. Usually, because Bella was wailing her head off for hours on end.
Having a baby with colic and an eighteen-month-old with a sensitive soul wasn’t easy on any of us.
There were times when Ava would catch sympathy tears, Frederica would lose it, too, and I’d have to fight like hell not to join the sob fest. Two babies that close together were never the plan, but condoms break, and apparently, breastfeeding one baby doesn’t provide as much protection from getting pregnant again as Frederica assumed.
But no matter how hard things were for a while there, we never regretted keeping Bella. The girls have grown up like twins, so close and bonded that they often seem to know what the other is thinking without either of them saying a word.
Like now, when Bella says in a soothing voice, “It’s okay, Ava. Don’t be sad.”
Frowning, I glance between them. “Are you sad, Ava?” I ask, chest aching as she fixes her gaze on the floor before giving a small nod. “I’m sorry, honey. Can I come give you a hug?”
She nods again, and I cross the kitchen in a flash, scooping her into my arms and hugging her tight.
“Why are you sad, sweet girl? What’s wrong?
You know I can care about lots of people at the same time, right?
Just because I really like Clover doesn’t mean I love you any less.
I always love you and Bella so much that words aren’t big enough to say how big. ”
She pulls back, her little face so serious it breaks my heart even before she says, “It’s not that, Daddy. I just… I don’t want to forget Mommy.”
My throat instantly caves in on itself, every muscle and tendon pulling so tight, my words emerge as a rasp as I assure her, “You won’t ever forget, Mommy, honey. And neither will I.”
“But if we all get so happy together, we might forget,” Ava says, her eyes shining. “Sometimes, I forget already, Daddy. I forget, and I feel bad and sad and think Mommy would be disappointed in me.”
“Oh, baby, no. Mommy is not disappointed in you. Not even a little. She loved you so much and only wants you to be happy,” I rush to assure her.
“And you’re never bad, sweetheart, not even when you make mistakes.
You’re such a good, smart, sweet kid and an amazing daughter and big sister and person, and I love you so much. ”
“Your daddy’s right, Ava,” Clover says, appearing beside us.
“You’re one of the best people I know. And I would never try to take your mommy’s place, okay?
The relationship I have with you and with your daddy is something different.
It’s special in a way that will never make the bond you had with your mom less special. Not ever. I promise.”
Ava nods, the tension easing from her features, though she still looks shier than usual as she asks, “Pinkie swear?”
Clover extends a curled pinkie finger. “Pinkie swear.”
Ava hooks her finger through Clover’s, and Clover leans in, kissing Ava’s forehead. “Pinkie swear, and a kiss for luck. Now, how about a salad for you with no broccoli? Because I know you’re not as much of a fan as Bella.”
Ava nods, happily squirming free of my arms as Clover heads for the counter. “Yes, please. No broccoli and no cucumber. I don’t feel like cucumber tonight.”
Bella snorts. “You’re silly. Cucumber is always good, and broccoli is the best.”
“No, it’s not,” Ava insists. “Broccoli makes me have sharp toots.”
I snort as I turn around, amazed all over again at how fast the girls can have me careering from the verge of tears to laughter. “Sharp toots?”
“Toots that poke too hard,” Ava says matter-of-factly. At my apparently confused expression, she arches her brows and adds, “Oh, come on, Daddy. We all know a sharp toot when we feel it.”
That gets us all laughing, Bella and me and Clover, who already has salads plated for the girls and delivers them to the table before asking, “Should we have dinner music?”
“Yes, jazz!” Bella shouts.
“French jazz,” Ava adds, “not smooth dinner jazz because that makes me sleepy.”
“Agreed. It should be called ‘smooth you off to sleep’ jazz,” Clover says, heading over to plug her phone into the speaker on the counter.
A few minutes later, we’re all gathered around the table, laughing as Bella keeps trying to touch her too-hot pizza, and making silly faces when her fingers touch the molten cheese.
Then, it’s time for the girls’ bath and teeth brushing time.
Clover takes point, while I pack for the road trip, and we all meet up on the couch thirty minutes later in our PJs to watch The Little Mermaid.
We only make it through the first thirty minutes before Ava’s out cold.
Promising Bella she can stay up to finish the movie, I carry my oldest up to bed, tucking her in with my heart in my throat.
She’ll be five in a month. She’s way too young to be worried about betraying her dead mother’s memory or feeling guilty for being happy when she thinks she should still be sad.
I think Clover and I put her mind at ease, but still…
Making a mental note to discuss this with her therapist before the girls’ next session, I tuck the covers around my probably too-clever girl and send out a silent plea for the universe to take it easy on her from now on. At least for a little while.
On the way back down the stairs, I run into Clover with a boneless Bella in her arms at the base of the stairs, and rush to relieve her, whispering, “Stop that. Your leg. You should have waited for me.”
“My leg is so much better lately,” she whispers back as she guides Bella against my chest. “But you’re probably right. Thanks. Meet you in your room?”
Shooting her a look, I hope clearly says, “hell yes, there is literally nowhere else you should be headed,” I start back up the stairs as she laughs.
We meet in the dark in my bedroom, both of us seeming to agree that kissing should come first and questions later. Door locked tight, I make love to her on my bed, softly urging her on as she rides me until she starts to shake before I roll on top and give her everything.
I fuck her hard and deep and a little desperately, unable to fight the feeling that I’m on the verge of losing her.
Things are getting way too real, way too fast, and she’s only twenty-four.
She’s going to run. Hell, I wouldn’t blame her if she did.
But fuck, I’ll miss her. Miss her so much. Because, “I love you, baby. Fuck, I love you so much,” I confess as my hips jerk forward, burying myself deep as I lose control.
I come in waves of pleasure so intense, I can barely breathe. My ribs lock up, my head spins, and my cock pulses again and again, urged on by Clover clutching around me.
By the time it’s over, we’re both a little shaken. At least, I am. It takes a good four or five minutes to realize I’m giving Clover my entire weight.
“Sorry,” I say as I pull back. “Was I crushing you?”
She shakes her head, gazing up at me with a look I can’t quite read. “No, I liked it. Sexiest weighted blanket ever.”
My lips curve, but a real smile feels out of reach. Not until I know… “A little too much, though?” I ask softly. “Tonight, and all the…everything?”
She hesitates a beat before shaking her head again. Her palms settle on my ribs, gentle and sure, before she says, “Weirdly, no. It felt good to be honest with the girls. And to let them know that they can be honest with us, too. Even when it’s hard. Don’t you think?”
I nod, but it’s a little too soon for relief.
The relief doesn’t come until she curls her fingers into my back and adds in a whisper, “And knowing I’m not the only one in love, felt even better.”
The bowling ball shoving down my throat vanishes so quickly that a wheezing sound emerges as I ask, “Yeah? I’m not alone here in Sappy Feelingsville?”