Deciding to make good use of her being distracted, and needing to distract myself before I seal my mouth over her pouty lips and steal every little whimper that escapes them, I lift her injured hand and pop the blister before she can process what is happening. Once all the mucky ooze has seeped out of the small hole, I run the iodine-drenched cotton ball over the wound before covering it with a band aid.
“There you go, just like new.”
She remains stunned, like a deer trapped in headlights.
“It’s not how a trauma surgeon at a major hospital would have done it, but it gets the job done,” I say jokingly, quoting some of the words she said last week.
Her bright white teeth are exposed in a full smile. “I guess I’m not the only one who enjoys torturing people for a living?” she murmurs.
“There is averyfine line between pleasure and pain,” I reply.
I try to keep the sexual overtones out of my voice, but my words are still drenched in them. Smirking at Ava’s wide-eyed expression, I lace my fingers with her uninjured hand and guide her out of the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, the large wooden deck in the backyard is packed with over three dozen people.
More than half are strangers to me. Spotting a section of empty chairs across from Jorgie and Chase, I place my hand on the small of Ava’s back and direct her towards the makeshift dining table. Ignoring the snickering of Chase across the table, I pull out Ava’s chair and gesture for her to sit.
For the first hour of brunch, the only audible noise is the sound of me shoveling Ava’s blueberry pancakes into my mouth. I’ve never tasted anything more delicious in my life – except Ava’s lips. They taste even sweeter than her world famous pancakes. Like she can hear my private thoughts, Ava’s head shifts from talking to Chase to peer at me. Her eyes roam over my face before she flashes her killer smile. My cheek muscles twitch when she licks the tip of her thumb and runs it along the right-hand corner of my mouth.
“You had syrup on your lip,” she explains, her voice a husky purr.
Everything blurs when she pops her thumb into her mouth and sucks off the syrup with a little groan. Thoughts of her lips circling another part of my body rushes to the forefront of my mind, turning my dick to steel. It’s only when I catch sight of Ava’s lips twitching as she vainly tries to repress a smile do I realize what she is doing. She is returning my earlier tease with one of her own.Who would have thought innocent little Ava would grow up to be a cock tease?
Deciding I need to put some distance between us before I drag her onto the table and taste the syrup directly off her skin, I excuse myself and make my way inside. When I spot Jorgie washing dishes in the kitchen sink, I snag a tea towel off the bench and commence drying the mountain load of crockery stacked in the drying rack. Jorgie’s eyes lift to mine, and her lips tug into a thankful smirk, but she remains quiet, which is very unlike Jorgie.
Only once all the cooking dishes are clean and packed away do her cornflower blue eyes turn to me. “If you hurt Ava, I'll kill you.”
I scoff. “I thought this was what you wanted?” My voice relays my genuine confusion. Jorgie nagged relentlessly for months for me to go out with Ava. Now, the instant things get a little interesting, she pulls out a yellow flag.
“No, this isn’t what I wanted,” Jorgie replies. “I wanted you to fall in love, have 2.5 children, and live in a house with a white picket fence. Not you look at Ava like you want to devour her on the kitchen counter.”
I grin and waggle my brows. There is no use denying the accuracy of her statement. Even if I did, Jorgie knows me well enough to see straight through it.
Spotting my contemptuous face, Jorgie huffs and throws the damp tea towel at my head. “You’re disgusting,” she mutters under her breath.
I stare at her. “Who are you and what happened to the real Jorgie Marshall? The one who would takeBabyup to the Mt. Louis lookout every weekend just to look at thescenery? The same Jorgie Marshall who danced on the tabletops at senior prom and went skinny dipping in the Hudson River because it was a full moon? The shackles aren’t even locked on your ankles yet, and you’re already acting like a middle-aged citizen.”
Her nose screws up as she stomps her feet. “What is it with everyone giving me crap today? First Ava said I’m getting soft and squidgy and now you’re saying I’m turning into our mother.”
My wholehearted chuckle booms around the kitchen. Jorgie loves our mom, but no self-respecting twenty-four year old wants to be compared to their mother. My laughter dissipates when I see a small gathering of tears welling in the corners of her eyes. Jorgie’s hormones have been all over the place the past few months, but this is the first time I’ve seen tears in her eyes in years.
I take a step closer to her and pull her into my chest. “What’s going on, Jorgie?” I ask. The trembling of my heart is heard in my voice.
“I’m scared,” she murmurs into my chest a short time later.
My brows furrow. “Of what? What have you got to be scared about?”
She takes her time deliberating a response before she faintly answers, “That everything will change between Hawke and me when we become parents.”
I’m taken back by her statement. I’m not kidding when I say Jorgie and Hawke are the strongest couple I’ve ever seen. Even when she is up to mischief, nothing but love beams out of Hawke’s eyes when he looks at Jorgie.
Her head pops off my chest, and her glistening eyes lock with mine. “What if he doesn’t find me attractive anymore?”
Like the sun rising over the horizon, clarity forms. Hawke was deployed when Jorgie was only a few months pregnant, so she wasn’t showing yet. Tomorrow afternoon will be the first time Hawke will see Jorgie with a rounded stomach.
“He loves you, Jorgie,” I assure her.
The smallest grin tugs on the corners of her mouth.
“Watermelon belly and all,” I josh.
