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They'd tried to buy land close to his parents, but nothing had come up for sale. They'd ended up in the part of the county where Josh and Hannah lived. Still only twenty minutes from his mom and dad, they'd bought fifty acres and built a sprawling country house that was their main home. They'd sold their condo in Dallas after he left the NFL and bought a beach house in Pensacola.
Ava's mother had eventually remarried and moved to Atlanta. She'd met a well-to-do businessman and Ethan had to admit, it was less stressful now that she lived out of state. She and Ava kept in touch but they didn't have the kind of bond he wished Ava could have had with the woman who'd given her life. It wasn't a great relationship, but it wasn't horrible either.
His mother-in-law was remorseful for what she'd done to them, he knew that. Before she'd taken off with her new husband, she'd found a lawyer and put their mortgage-free childhood home in Ty and Ava's names, so they'd always have a place to live, somewhere to go, no matter what. Maybe it had soothed her conscience somewhat, Ethan didn't know.
The old Anderson house mostly sat empty, and he and Ty split the maintenance costs. They'd both decided it wasn't worth selling, since neither of them needed the money. The house was a decent investment and it had given Ty a place he could stay where he could have some privacy from their three rug rats when he'd come to town to visit. The house also seemed to soothe Ava's soul. Maybe it made her feel closer to her parents, he didn't know. Every month or so, she'd go visit for a few hours and recharge while he watched the kids. Maybe they'd sell it someday, but he didn't anticipate that happening any time soon.
He glanced at the clock. Damn, they needed to hurry. It was hard to believe that Evan was graduating already. Their other two wouldn't be far behind—he knew how damn fast time could fly by.
And as much as he loved being a family man, well, the thought of having Ava all to himself someday was so tempting that he wasn't dreading the future. Not one damn bit.
As he began to pull on his shirt, Ava stood up from her vanity and walked across the room toward her closet. She angled her fingers across his chest with a barely-there touch as she slid past him. Right. Like he could pass up the opportunity to touch her every single chance he got.
He snatched up her wrist and stopped her from moving forward. She glanced up with a question as she focused her attention on him. But he didn't have anything more pressing than to prolong her touch. He smiled into her eyes as he threaded his fingers through hers. He lifted her left hand and brought her knuckles to his lips.
As he dragged his mouth across her flesh he glanced down at her ring finger and rolled his eyes, trying to contain a smile. "You gonna wear it there forever?" he asked, referring to the promise ring he'd given her all those years ago.
He'd bought her a wedding band when she was eighteen and had added a four-carat engagement ring when he'd been able to afford it. The bling was damn near blinding but she deserved every bit of it and more. For the first couple of weeks, she'd moved the promise ring to her right hand, but that hadn't lasted. For whatever reason, she wanted the promise ring on her left hand, under both her wedding and engagement rings. She said that put it right where it belonged: closest to her heart.
It made his own heart constrict in response every time he saw it there.
"Yes, I am," she answered firmly before slipping from his hold to begin getting dressed. "Is that okay with you?" she questioned over her shoulder with pouted lips meant to entice.
He knew she wasn't asking permission. Her question was purely rhetorical. That promise ring was staying on her left hand whether he wanted it there or not. Lucky for him, it pleased him more than he could say to know that she loved that little piece of jewelry more than any gift he'd ever given her.
Not only did his wife's sentimental attachment to the ring make him happy, it reminded him every single day of the girl he'd married, of the kind of girl he'd married: honest, compassionate, and loving; not grasping or greedy. She didn't have an avaricious bone in her body. She loved that little chip of a diamond way more than the four-carat ring he'd given her when he'd been drafted by the NFL. It reminded Ethan, day in and day out, that she still loved the headstrong, devoted boy he'd been when she'd married him, because she kept that boy tucked away nice and safe on her left hand.
He smiled in response, not even trying to keep the adoration from his eyes. And why would he? She knew he adored her. She owned his heart, body, mind, and soul. She was his world and she knew it. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
As she smiled back, he glanced down at her curvy body in nothing but bra and panties and a memory flooded him—a memory of the day his world had changed.
Because he could, because he owned her now, because she was his and nobody else's, he yanked her to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. With her chest flush against his, he slid his free hand over her hip and tugged her even closer. As he nuzzled her hair, he closed his eyes in exultation as every dream, every fantasy he'd ever had about her was now his for the keeping.
He took her bottom lip under his, nipping her, once and then twice, before thrusting inside and taking the passion she was freely and honestly giving back, her arms snaking up and entwining around his neck. He held her to him, spirals of hunger racing through his system. He kissed her for all he was worth; he kissed her for the man he'd become and for the boy who'd yearned so fiercely for something he didn't think he could ever have. He kissed her repeatedly, ferociously, until he realized that, once again, their hearts were beating as one.
Contentment spread through his veins like a living force. Life was good.
And it would only get better with time.
