Page 65 of Sugar
A tear slips out of her eye, sliding down her cheek. I brush it away with a swipe of my thumb. “I do,” she admits.
I shake my head. “No, you don’t, because if you did, you’d know I couldneverbe better off without you, Ava. Ever.” I reach out and clutch a piece of her hair, wrapping it around my fist. “You know what I think?”
Her eyes shutter closed again as I tug her head back, her mouth going slack. “What?”
“I don’t think you would have left,” I say. “If you’d stayed back then, if you’d married me, you’d never have left, Ava. We’d still be together. We’d probably fight every goddamn day and you’d drive me out of my mind, but you would have stayed.” I let my open mouth trail lightly along her jaw. “You know how I know that?”
She keeps her eyes closed, but I see the way her skin pinches between her brows, the way her lips press tight. “How?” she whispers.
“Because you’re not your mother.”
Her eyes fly open, the surprise in them obvious enough to know I’ve hit the bull’s-eye.
I let my gaze roam her face, soaking in the soft skin of her cheeks, the curve of her nose. The slope of her lips and the way she keeps them parted. “You looked beautiful today,” I say, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering against her skin for far too long before finally pulling back.
And then just like I did the last time she was here, I disappear inside my room and leave my new wife alone in the dark.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
AVA
Amuffled groan pulls me from sleep.
It takes me a handful of seconds to remember where I am, recognizing the bedroom only when I pull the blankets higher and catch a whiff of the familiar woodsy smell ofKasey. Then I remember I’m in his guest bedroom—mynew bedroom—the unfamiliar weight of the ring on my finger a perfect match to the stone in my gut.
I strain my eyes and look around the dark room, trying to figure out what stole me from sleep, but I literally can’t see a thing—it’ssodark out here on the ranch without streetlights or porch lights from neighboring houses. I’d been exhausted when I peeled my dress off and fell into bed, and I don’t even remember what kinds of furniture decorate this room. There’s a window on the far wall I’m pretty sure looks out the back of the cabin, but the curtains are closed and out of reach. Maybe it was an animal outside? One of the horses in the pasture?
“Run!” a male voice shouts from somewhere in the house, tone urgent and full of intense, bloodcurdling fear. I scramble to sit up, tossing the blankets off my body and twisting to plant my feet on the cold hardwood floor. A shiver runs through me as I push off the bed to do just as the voice directed andrun, but mybig toe makes contact with the biting edge of something hard, sending a jolt of pain that radiates through my foot.
“Ow!” I squeak, the urge to cry out muffled only by the fear of a possible intruder. It would be just my luck to stub a toe and lead them right to me. I bend over to rub at the skin, giving myself to the count of ten to wallow in my suffering before moving again.
There’s an unmistakable sound of shuffling coming from across the hall: a thud of something smacking against the wall, the low groan of a bed.Kasey, I realize, and a new bolt of fear slices through me. And then I’m running again, because if thereisan intruder, it sounds like they’ve already found him.
This time I make it across the room, brushing a hand along the wall to guide me toward the door. I search for the doorknob, cursing when I can’t find it, but then I try the other side and my hand closes around the cool metal, twisting and pushing until I’m in the hallway.
There’s a little more light here, bleeding out from an open window in the living room, but it’s still not much. I can just distinguish the outline of Kasey’s bedroom door on the other side of the hall right as I hear a muffled “Fuck you” from inside.
I don’t hesitate.
Bursting into the room, my eyes fly to the broad male form in the center of the bed, the light of the moon through the window like a spotlight in the heavy darkness. His sweat-soaked face is crumpled in anguish, the sheets around him twisted into knots and clutched tight in his fists. His dark comforter lies in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed, a rogue pillow teetering on the edge behind his back.
It’s Kasey—justKasey, I realize with striking relief. No intruder to be found. He’s in the throes of a nightmare, his body thrashing as he grunts and mumbles his protests against whatever’s happening to him behind closed eyelids. He barksout a strangled curse, his brows pulling together and etched in fear.
I hurry over to him. “Kasey,” I say, shaking his damp shoulders. He flings out an arm but I block it from hitting my knee. “Kasey, wake up!”
His eyes fly open as his chest heaves. “Ava?” he asks, voice hoarse, his terror far from abandoned.
“It’s me,” I say calmly. “You were having a nightmare.”
“A nightmare,” he repeats, squeezing his eyes shut as both frustration and relief war across his face.
“Just a nightmare.”
He groans, leaning forward to bury his face into my lap, a heavy arm wrapping firmly around my hips to draw me in closer. I soothe my hands across his back, rubbing my fingers into the taut muscles still clenched tight. “You’re okay,” I tell him, tracing the divots of his long spine. “It was just a dream.”
He curses softly, his face pressed against the fleshy meat of my thigh. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles.
“Don’t be,” I insist, dragging a hand up to his neck so I can knead my fingers into his shoulders. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I thought someone had broken in. It sounded like you were fighting someone off . . . I thought you might be hurt?—”
