AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are you okay?”
I match her frown and reach up to my forehead, rubbing the back of my hand across the dampness. A stressed sweat? “Yeah.” I gather myself, glancing around. “Come on.” I claim her hand and march us out of the supermarket to the car.
“Where are we going?” she asks, pulling her belt on as I reverse out of the parking space.
“To a place where I hope we can find the unicorn of fucking whiskeys,” I mutter, and she laughs lightly. “Fuck!” I slam on the brakes, narrowly missing a blue Ford that seems to come out of nowhere.
“Fucking hell,” Ava breathes, her arms instinctively braced against the dashboard. I slowly turn displeased eyes onto her, and she smiles awkwardly. “Well, you should watch where you’re going.”
“I was.” I spin the wheel and slam my Aston into Drive, pulling away. “She appeared from nowhere.”
“Love how you assume it was ashe,” she muses, reaching into her handbag and pulling out her lip gloss.
“I know it was a woman because I saw her blond hair.” I’m not having her peg me as a bigoted pig. Although, to be fair, it would be a flimsy claim from Little Miss Independent. Just because I’m a bit traditional, doesn’t make me chauvinistic. “And I’m giving you a fair warning.”
“Oh?” she mumbles through taut lips as she applies her gloss. I don’t know why, it’ll be wiped off soon. “What’s that?”
“There are two liquor stores on a street in Mayfair. Old. Traditional. If we don’t find it in any of those, we go home and order it online.”
“Sounds fair.”
I look at her, shocked. “You’re being rather amenable.” Perhaps todayshouldbe the day I ask her to be mine forever.Fuck you, John.
“I’m tired of shopping,” she says over a small smile and a teasing pop of her lips.
“But not tired, right?”
She laughs. “You mean too tired for you to have your way?”
I laugh too, and it’s a loud, rich sound, one that I’ve not heard from myself all too much. Only Ava can spike it. “Have my way?” She’s talking like it’s not her way too. “What aboutyourway?” I ask, splitting my attention between her and the road.
Her eyes drift down my seated form, her body turning a little in the seat to face me. “What about my way?”
Oh, she wants to go into details? “How do you like it, baby?”
She hums, head tilting from side to side in thought, her hand slipping onto my thigh and stroking. I stiffen in my seat. “Old,” she whispers, retracting her touch and returning her body forward.
“You think you’re funny, huh?” I ask, not insulted, just really fucking happy and content at how easy moments like this are with her. Moments when we simply enjoy being ridiculous because it’s safe to be. It’s ironic, really. Easy, but the most difficult thing ever. I reach across the car and find her tickle spot, digging in.
“Jesse,” she yelps, and proceeds to buck and jack in the seat, laughing uncontrollably. I swerve. It’s Ava’s saving grace. “Oh God,” she puffs, smacking my bicep. “Don’t do that when I’m nowhere near a toilet.”
I’m laughing again. “Noted. The last thing we need is you having to unravelwetknickers.”
“If my knickers need unravelling, you should have to do it since you’re the one who gets them all twisted in the first place.”
“And wet,” I say, and she laughs, eyes closed, mouth wide open. I put my foot down and reach for her leg, squeezing. “I love you, lady.”
“I know,” she sighs, resting her head back on the leather, settling.
“Thank the fucking Lord,” I breathe when the owner of the second liquor store we try—our last chance saloon—pulls down a bottle of Glenmorangie Port Wood Finish from the top shelf and blows off some dust.
“Thank you,” Ava says, looking at me. “Lord.”
She’s so cute. “How much,” I ask, pulling out my wallet.
“Oh, no.” Ava steps in front of me, like she can block me from the man behind the counter. I’m a head taller than she is. I can still see him, and he’s looking between us. “How much?” Ava asks him, rummaging through her bag and pulling out her wallet.
I remain silent and start slowly shaking my head at the man in warning.
