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“They’re called Eskimo kisses. Mom used to say they make everything better when I was little.”
I’m inclined to agree with Elizabeth. They’re the best thing I’ve felt in days.
“You still haven’t told me what the outcome was.” Damon searches my eyes, the hand on my legging-covered thigh rising to hold my waist.
“I don’t think I am. I took another test this morning, and it was negative. I’m waiting on my blood test result. Apparently, it could be too early to tell with the usual home tests, or it could be that my body has fallen out of sync. I hope it has because I’m not ready for a baby. And I’m scared. Look at Fran.”
“Yeah, the whole baby thing is petrifying.” He says that like he’s had firsthand experience, and it leaves me curious. “Oh?”
“Mom really wanted another child, but it never worked out. I was a fluke.”
“A good one.” I’m looking at him, and all I think of are the baby photos Elizabeth had around their home.
I’m kind of warming to the idea with the picture of a little boy just like him: thick, dark hair, deep chocolate eyes and beautiful golden skin. Maybe he’d have a freckle just like his daddy’s.
“I love this,” I whisper, touching my fingertip to the freckle. “And I love these,” I say, tracing the sculpted lines of his lips with my teary gaze before I find his eyes, “And these.”
“I love you, little mouse.” His hand cups my face before he kisses me softly, and before he can pull away, I kiss back. Harder. With all the longing and the force of the pain that’s churned me up inside since I left him.
I suck his lip into my mouth, and I don’t let it free until Damon opens his. His tongue licks over mine with a groan, and he takes his time savoring me, just as I take my time relishing in his hold and touch.
We only stop to come up for air, and as he smiles at me, I tell him, “I love you too.”
“Enough to go with me tonight?”
“More.” But I guess tonight is a small token of it.
Chapter 23
Damon
The organizers for the awards clearly didn’t get the memo when they set out the seating plan. Ava’s been tense all evening, barely touching any of her food or joining in the light conversation around our table. Her focus is on the table beside ours—Monroe’s table.
This is the first year I’ve personally attended. Public fanfares aren’t something I’m interested in, but I imagine that Ava would have attended these events with her family. She would’ve sat at their table and made small talk with everyone.
“We can leave whenever you want?” I tell her, bringing her chair flush to mine so that I can tuck her into my side.
“We’re here for the awards and they’re not done yet.” Although she’s smiling, Ava’s eyes hold that stricken disappointment that’s glistened in them from the moment her parents walked in with Marshall in tow, as though he’s their flesh and blood.
Ava glances over at the Monroe table, and when I follow her stare, the asshole holds up his champagne with the same jerk-ass grin he’s held all evening. If I wasn’t certain that breaking his nose in front of the entire audience would only cause Ava more upset, he’d be sleeping like a dog beneath their table already.
“Excuse me a moment,” Ava says, standing from her seat and walking in the direction of the restrooms as the organizers walk onto the stage for the penultimate award—book of the year.
I should be paying attention to what’s being said, but instead I’m too busy stalking the most incredible person in this place. Ava maneuvers through the tables more gracefully than it should be possible with the way the tables are so close together. The black dress she’s wearing contours her curves like a glove, emphasizing the natural sashay of her rounded hips and peachy ass.
Fuck me, Ava’s a fucking goddess, and there isn’t a second while she’s in my sight that I can tear my eyes from her. When she finally disappears from my sight, my chest squeezes so tight around my insides, at the loss, that I can’t fucking breathe.
“You good?” Grayson asks, nudging me with his elbow as our table erupts into applause.
“Yeah, sure.” I’m so out of my mind, and depth, with her, that I missed the winner announcement.
“Six out of eleven—” He continues clapping as our client, soccer’s superstar of the moment, gives a quick fire thank-you speech our translation department helped him put together. “—I think we can say we’ve cleaned up this year.” Grayson slaps my shoulder for attention, but I’m still watching the auditorium doors, waiting for Ava to come back to me.
It seems like the longest drag of time when she returns. The smile on her face is pinched, forced. Nothing like the usual bright, beaming expression I adore. When I glance at the Monroe table, her mom is returning to her seat too. Anger paints her face with a glower when our stares catch. She can hate me for what I’ve done, but whatever she feels for me is nothing compared to the contempt that I hold for her or her husband, and the way they’ve completely abandoned their daughter.
Ava is a once in a lifetime phenomenon. Like Halley’s comet, blink and you might miss her magnificence and the magnitude of wonder and brilliance she brings with her. There are many things that I may regret in the future, but it’ll never be any of my moves or ploys that brought her to me. Because of them, I am the luckiest bastard in this room. To say that I’ve hit the jackpot with her would be putting it lightly.
Just as Ava reaches me, the announcement for publisher of the year is underway. This is the one that every house wants to walk away with.
