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I suck in a sharp breath. “You had my art removed only a few days before that. You told Margot my work wasn’t good enough to be in your gallery, yet that didn’t stop you from fucking me the first chance you got.”

“Your art isn’t good enough, Avery. Maybe one day it will be,” he replies evenly. “But none of that has anything to do with what’s going on between us now.”

“Like hell it doesn’t!” A pair of elderly women dressed in their Sunday best turn sharp looks on me as they pass, and I realize my voice is climbing with my outrage. I dial it back, glancing at them apologetically before unleashing my anger on Nick in a tight whisper. “You lied to me. You could’ve told me the truth, but you didn’t. What else will you lie to me about?”

“And when I asked if you were an artist, you could’ve told me you had paintings in the gallery at one time. What else are you hiding from me?”

A flood of secrets and lies crowd my conscience in the seconds I remain mute. I shake my head and release a long breath. “This is a bad idea. I thought it was from the beginning, but now I know for sure. I can’t do this, Nick. Please, don’t call me again.”

He grinds out a low curse. “I’ll be back in New York in a few days. We can talk about this some more when I see you.”

“No,” I murmur. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Then we won’t talk. I can think of far better things we could be doing together.”

“Nick, I’m serious—”

“So am I, Avery. I’ve upset you, and I’m sorry.” His voice is solemn, a deep rumble that caresses my senses. “As for that night, your art and my gallery had nothing to do with what happened between us. We fucked because we both wanted it. We’ll do it again because that’s what we both want.”

I wish I could deny it. Every fiber of my being tells me this is my chance to halt what can only turn out to be a massive mistake. I don’t have room in my life for Dominic Baine or the complicated twist of emotions that he stirs in me.

And the desire.

I shouldn’t give that room in my life either.

But it’s there, just as he says.

I want him, even now.

“I have to go,” I murmur. “My friend’s daughter is being baptized this morning. I only have a few minutes to walk the rest of the way to St. Michael’s for the mass.”

“St. Michael’s on 99th?”

“No, in Queens.” I glance at the time on my phone and wince. “I really have to go now.”

“Okay,” he relents, but I can hear his reluctance to release me. “And Avery?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll see you when I get back to the city.”

I don’t reply. There’s no need to say the words. I end our call, then close my eyes on a soft curse, too well aware of my own need for this man to even think I’ll be able to deny him.

Chapter 17

Tasha’s home is small and cramped, her family large and boisterous. The chattering, happy crowd of thirty-plus aunts, uncles, and cousins of varying ages fills the first-floor kitchen and living room of the little duplex. In the hour or so following Zoe’s baptism, the women have served up a potluck buffet big enough to feed an entire neig

hborhood, and the men are clustered around, balancing paper plates in one hand, beers in the other, while they talk sports and argue over rival teams. It’s a comfortable warmth—a palpable sense of love and security—that I can’t help but envy a little.

As I weave through the guests and return to the food-laden buffet table, I smile at a shy little girl with big doe eyes and dark brown pigtails who peeks at me from behind her mama’s legs. I put my finger against my lips and wink conspiratorially before helping myself to a second piece of chocolate sheet cake. She’s enjoyed some recently, too, as evidenced by the rainbow ring of frosting still clinging to the corners of her cherub mouth.

“Are you having a good time?” Tasha appears from behind me, looking radiant in her cream-colored dress from church and her mane of spiral curls swept off her face in a pretty updo.

“Are you kidding? I’m having a great time.” I hold up my plate. “This cake is amazing.”

“I know, right? My mother-in-law is friends with one of the ladies who bakes at Martha’s in Forest Hills.” As Tasha talks to me, she waves at some more guests who’ve just arrived. “Sorry to abandon you to my family after we got back from the church. Zoe needed some mommy time after all of that activity this morning. Hopefully, she’ll sleep for a while, so I can get something to eat now.”

She reaches for a plate and begins filling it with slices of spiral-cut ham, green beans, and several dollops of the assorted noodle and potato salads.

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