“The broth is for later, so not right now. You don’t cook for your family? Have they seen this place yet?” She was genuinely curious. Had their relationship changed during the years? That would be nice.
“Nope. They know the address. Between my mom’s charity gigs and my dad’s international law firm, they haven’t been able to come out. I don’t mind so much.” He shrugged, his face tight. “They may not make the games, but they do watch.” Sadness tinged his voice.
Her heart ached for him. “At least they make the time,” she offered up. “I haven’t watched hockey in a while. I feel bad for not being more in touch with my family.” She didn’t mention Perry. Ava didn’t want to talk about that part of her life, not yet and not with Brice.
“Why Florida?” He bent down to taste his sauce. She hadn’t asked what he was making. She assumed it was pasta for the carbs.
“Job opportunity after college. My aunt lives there, and she owns a café. She offered to show me the ropes while I learned how to run a food-oriented business. I want to own a bakery one day.” Heat flushed her cheeks as she waited for him to laugh at her dream. Perry hadn’t been impressed, so he hadn’t encouraged her.
“That’s awesome. Davis mentioned you were into food in college. Why didn’t you go to culinary school?” He poured noodles into the sauce and mixed it all up.
She almost preened at his interest. “I wanted to have something to fall back on, so I got a degree in marketing,” she explained. “I went to culinary school down in Florida while working at my aunt’s café.” Ava had declined any help from her parents or her aunt. She’d wanted to earn her way.
Brice patted her on the back. “Nice! I’m so proud of you. That’s awesome. So what kind of bakery would you open?” He poured the pasta into a bowl and sprinkled on parmesan and put it on the dining room table. “You almost done with the soup?”
“Yep. Just have to let it simmer for a bit. Do you want me to make a salad? Do you have any bread or bread sticks? I didn’t look.” She turned down the heat.
“Sure. Something simple, okay? The pasta will be heavy enough.”
“Okay.” She got out the ingredients for a lettuce and tomato salad. The atmosphere was cozy, simple and warm. Almost homey. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or not, but it was comfortable. Brice didn’t seem the least bit off put by what looked to be growing between them.
“Got it. Picked some bread sticks up a couple days ago. Wasn’t sure what I was going to do with them, but they were on sale.” He grabbed some gluten-free bread sticks and put them in a basket, then on the table. She felt relief that he hadn’t lit the candles on the tabletop. This wasn’t a romantic situation; this was dinner.
Ava finished with the salad and then settled across from him. A sense of ease filled her. He looked so relaxed. Tension wasn’t evident in him. Not like in her father’s office. Brice served first her, then himself. “Thanks for helping with dinner. Beats going out for food. And like you pointed out, these things don’t get used much.”
Warmth filled her chest. As she dug in, she became very aware of how alone they were in this massive place. Every move she made seemed to be amplified. She could hear the squelch of him twining the spaghetti around the tines of his fork or when he picked up a bread stick and bit into it. The crunch of the lettuce bounced back at her. Her chewing filled her ears, and she could hear nothing else. Once she swallowed, the silence returned to them. She opened her mouth to say something but wasn’t sure what subject to broach.
“This is delicious. Is this gluten-free pasta?” Ava grimaced at how stupid she sounded.
Food talk? Really?
As she chewed, she could taste how similar it was to regular pasta but not as filling, not as heavy as gluten-based counterparts.
The grin he gave her could blind; it was all straight, bright white teeth. “Glad you like it. I’m not allergic, but it’s healthier. Also better for my diet so I don’t gain a lot of weight. Pasta is excellent before a game. Lots of energy to burn but easy to make.”
“I’ve been meaning to try gluten-free products, see how they taste and everything, but my aunt is old-school when it comes to baking. When’s your next game?” She ate her salad to keep from looking at Brice and avoid feeling stupid for that amateurish change of subject.
“This weekend with our toughest opponent, the Falcons. We’ve only lost to them once this season and won the last time we met. I really need to be on my game. I’m actually glad you’re here.” His tone didn’t tell her whether he was serious or not.
She looked up at him and caught the smile on his lips. “I’m not a good-luck charm, and I still have to finish reading my hockey book.” Again that sense of stupidity settled on her. She was tempted to pull an all-nighter and watch nothing but the NHL Channel but didn’t want to keep him up too.
“No need for the book. You have me to help you refresh your memory of the game. And yes, you are a good-luck charm. You’re going to help me stay on my game.” His face showed how serious he was; his eyes flashed with conviction. “I already feel good, better than I have in years, with you around. It’ll be nice having someone I know cheering me on.” His features softened.
Silken tendrils of heat filled her, reminding her of every touch from him in the kitchen. She cleared her throat. “I have to run back to my parents’ place and get my things. Dad’s letting me use one of his cars since I don’t know the area yet and I don’t have a rental.” She didn’t want him thinking too much of her attending games.
“Why don’t I drive you over? My SUV has enough space, and unless you’ve brought everything and the kitchen sink, I’m sure I can fit it all. The visit will give me a chance to talk to James.” His eyes sparkled with amusement that she didn’t understand.
“O-okay, Sure. I only brought what I could pack. Everything else is in storage until I have a place to stay. I had just put the last of my things away and only had my clothes to go when Mom called. I had already sold most of my furniture and kept the pieces I liked.” Her heart stuttered. So many memories sold because of her breakup with Perry. She hated to sell the rolltop desk that she’d found at a flea market and cleaned up and varnished herself. Perry had refused to lift a hand to help her. In fact, he hated looking for treasures with her, thought it was waste of time. One of the many things they hadn’t had in common. Why had she wasted her time with him for so long? Why had she even agreed to marry him when she’d had reservations? It wasn’t like anyone held a gun to her head and told her she had to. Brice’s attention only made Perry’s neglect that much more obvious.
A void filled in her head. The last few weeks had been focused on packing up her life and moving on, but she hadn’t thought about why her relationship fell apart beyond Perry’s cheating. She dragged her fork through the pasta and sauce and drank a bit of water, but her appetite was long gone.
“You okay? Where’d you go? Is it the spaghetti?”
Ava shook her head. Would Brice get it? Sure, he looked concerned, but they barely knew each other. She studied his expression; genuine worry filled his green eyes. Ava knew she couldn’t hide her emotions from him, not when they’d have to live so closely together. Besides he could just pester her until she told him.
“Ava,” he said, his voice soft, lulling, “you can tell me. I swear I won’t judge you.” Conviction flew over his features. He leaned forward in his chair, both hands pressed to the tabletop. “Tell me what the asshole did to you, honey.” The softness was gone; only the hard edge of anger remained. It seared her flesh, slicing through her hesitation.
The words tumbled out unheeded, as if she needed to say it before she hid it all away behind her walls. “I was thinking of my ex. I don’t know why I stayed with him so long. We barely had anything in common, and from what I understand from my neighbors, he’d been cheating on me for most of our relationship with the twins down the hall and his assistant and a few women from his law firm. I don’t understand why he’d propose to me. I just… I never really thought about these things. Didn’t have the time. I’ve been trying to move on. He didn’t even protest when I broke up with him. Just told me it was my loss. I don’t know why he cheated on me. I want to ask, but I don’t want to face him.” She sighed and took a sip of water. “I wanted to ask him if it was my weight, but part of me didn’t want to hear that.”
Didn’t want to think that again a man had rejected me because of my figure.
Ava felt stupid for feeling the way she did and for even voicing her desire to talk to Perry one last time. Perhaps it was a need for closure, she wasn’t sure, but she knew she needed to understand why someone would hurt another person like that. She remembered how nonchalant he’d been. He hadn’t even fought her, argued for her to stay, or given her reasons to be together. That’s what hurt the most. His law career came first and her second. She could accept that if he’d been dedicated to her, but to know that he wouldn’t even fight for the woman he’d claimed he wanted to marry?
Tears burned her eyes, and an ache started in her chest. What would it be like to matter to a man so much that he’d fight for her? Argue with her to stay, to give them a chance? Not even Brice had done that. No phone calls or visits to her dorm, nothing. He’d had his life, and it hadn’t included her. Slips of hot water burned a trail down her cheeks. She sniffled and ducked her head to hide her emotions. Had Brice fucked her up so much that she was still hurt over that Christmas?
She heard the scrape of a chair on hardwood but didn’t look up. Brice’s heavy footsteps came toward her. The fevered weight of his calloused palm settled on her shoulder. He gave the muscle a squeeze. A wave of comfort washed over her before she remembered the pain of no calls or visits, of seeing him around campus. Rather than talk about that bit of embarrassment, she allowed him this moment, even though she wanted more than a shoulder squeeze.
“Okay, first, Perry is an asswad, plain and simple. He’s a douche bag for cheating on you. If he was cheating on you for that long, he had no desire to commit to you. Giving you an engagement ring was probably his way of distracting you. Probably thought it would appease you.” Brice stood up, grabbed his plate and glass, and headed into the kitchen before coming back and getting hers. “And second, if he didn’t fight for a prize like you, he was a moron. You are a priceless treasure, honey. I was stupid for not going after you after Christmas, but he was an even bigger idiot for using you like that.”
She remained silent, unsure of whether to believe him or not. Brice had the same charisma as Perry, the same easy charm that lulled you into a sense of safety. She couldn’t trust that, could she?
Ava pressed her lips together, unable to voice her pain to him, the humiliation she’d felt waiting by the phone for him to call, getting close to but not asking Davis about him.
No, can’t trust him. Just because he’s a smooth talker doesn’t mean anything. I’m just easy prey to him. Live-in pussy that he could seduce so he won’t have to go out to clubs to hunt
. She used those thoughts to steal herself against him.
“The question is what did you get from your relationship with Perry that you couldn’t get being single? Why stay with someone who doesn’t tick all the boxes?” Brice turned to look at her, a hard gaze in his green eyes, gold flecks flashing. She shifted in her seat, feeling like a child caught in a lie.
Facing the truth about Perry would be easier than telling Brice what he’d done to her. Ava licked her lips to give herself some time to answer. “Well, he kept me company. We didn’t live together—he had his place and I had mine—but he stayed over. I didn’t feel like a loser when I ate dinner alone and he was working late.” Her thoughts wrapped around this notion. “I suppose I just liked saying I had a boyfriend or fiancé. He wasn’t exactly that giving in bed. Okay, he was crappy in bed and only really cared about his orgasm and not mine. I just didn’t want to be alone,” she admitted. Just saying she didn’t want to be alone out loud made her feel stupid. “How pathetic am I that I’m so scared of being alone that I’d stick with someone who cheated on me?”
“But you didn’t,” Brice pointed out. “You left his punk ass once you found out. You’re a strong, sexy woman, Ava. You walked away when you could’ve stayed and settled, but you didn’t. I’m proud of you.” He bent down and kissed her temple.
She felt silly that his words made her ridiculously happy. Electricity spread from her stomach outward to envelop her body. Arousal weighed on her like heated oil, almost a balm on her soul, but it still didn’t make up for what Perry had done to her.
“So what did you like to do that he didn’t?” He waggled his eyebrows at her before he got up and headed to the sink area and began to fill the basin with water.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. For a moment her brain dived into the sexy, dirty, filthy places she’d only been able to fulfill with fantasies she’d read about. “Spankings,” she blurted out. Her face, neck, ears, and chest flushed with fire. What harm could it do to tell him that? Nothing would happen. She just wanted to see if she was a weirdo for wanting that.
“Wha—” Brice turned his head to stare at her. “Fuck!” He yanked his hand back from under the stream of water and patted it dry.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I thought… Shit.” She rushed over to the freezer and grabbed a bag of peas. Ava wasn’t sure why she was sorry, but the words came out nonetheless. She also felt amusement that he’d been so distracted by her confession that he’d hurt himself. That’s what he got for not paying attention.
“Not your fault, sweetheart. My hand is fine, just a bit warm. Now, spankings. Tell me more.” His grin was lascivious, filled with dark delights that made her pussy flutter and her heartbeat tick up a few notches. “Do you want bare-handed? Wooden spoon? Belt? Whip? Flogger? Crop?”
Ava groaned. She couldn’t even blame her outburst on being drunk. Her sex-starved whore had taken over her mouth. There was no taking it back. “Can you just forget I said that? It’s not acceptable, only done in fiction, and I got confused for a second. Why don’t we go get my stuff right now?” She hadn’t met anyone who shared her sexual interests. She’d avoided sites and chat rooms and groups, never having the courage to join up and see if maybe there was hope for her. Her sexual confidence had never been high to begin with. Perry’s disgust had only made her feel worse. How could she expect Brice to understand and accept her when the man she was supposed to marry couldn’t?