Page 7 of Sugar
“Shit, sorry,” I mumble.
Inky black lashes fan across the tops of her cheeks. “It’s okay,” she says, keeping her gaze on the mug. She wraps both hands around it, pulling it in close. “So . . . Marriage, Kasey.”
“Marriage,” I repeat.
“I can’t think of a better way to handle all of this.”
I roll my jaw, watching as she lifts the mug to her lips to blow on the steaming liquid. “I really don’t understand why you’re here, Ava.”
“I’m trying to?—”
“Help, yeah, I get that. But why? Why do you care?”
She rears her head back, like I’ve slapped her. “I know how important the ranch is. Of course I care.”
“For fuck’s sake, Ava—I don’t even know where you’ve been for the last decade. And now you’re just . . . here. Trying to right the wrongs inmyfamily.”
She eyes me curiously. “I’ve been in Miami. You never asked around?”
I scoff. “Askedwho? Your father?”
She winces, her gaze shifting down once more. She sets the mug back on the counter and pulls on a loose thread in the stitching of the cushion beneath her. “I went to Florida,” she finally says. “For school . . . and thenmoreschool. And then a shitty job at a high-profile law firm working for a bunch of really shitty men, which eventually turned into a better job workingwiththose shitty men.”
Her eyes rise to meet mine, and I nearly fall right into them, so achingly familiar and yet foreign in the way they study me now. They’re . . . colder. Almost distant. So unlike the warm burst of sapphire that sparkles in the sunlight. “Why aren’t you there then?” I ask.
She frowns. “It’s complicated.”
I almost laugh. “Right. Well, I’m sure it’s not so complicated that you can’t just turn around and go back and face whatever it is you’re running from. Because you’re running from something, right?” There’s resentment bleeding through the words, and she knows it.
Ava sighs, lifting the coffee to her lips easing a tentative sip into her mouth. She leaves the creamer untouched, which surprises me. The woman has the biggest sweet tooth I’ve ever known—I bet if I got a peek inside her purse right now I’d find a handful of candy.
Another vicious reminder.
“Since when do you drink coffee black?”
“Since forever,” she retorts.
I shake my head. “Oh no, don’t lie to me, Ava. You used to drink vanilla creamer with a splash of coffee.”
She shrugs. “I’m not a kid anymore. And I know what you’re doing—this conversation is about you, Kasey. I’m giving you a solution. Marry me. Save the ranch and give that uncle of yours a good old fashioned middle finger.”
“I think that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard in my life. I don’t know how you think you can just waltz your way back into Saddlebrook Falls and into my life and assume I’m still eager to play these games with you. I’m not a damn kid anymore either. You left me a long time ago. It’s ancient history. I’ve moved on.”
Ava snorts. “Oh mygod, Kasey, I’m not trying to play games with you. I’m well aware of the fact that I walked away.” Her words slice into me, but I keep my expression schooled andpretend like they don’t. Like nothing about this rattles me to my core. “Me being here has nothing to do with history. I’m just a friend trying to help you out of a situation that looks pretty shitty from the outside. Unless one of your brothers is ready to walk down the aisle with a new bride?”
“A friend?” I almost laugh. “We were never friends, Ava.”
“Weren’t we?” She lifts the mug to her lips and takes a long pull of the coffee. My gaze trails along her jaw as she swallows it down. “It benefits me too,” she says. “If it makes you feel better.”
“How?”
“I’d rather not get into it, but it’s not just for you is all I’m saying.”
I scrub a hand over my mouth in irritation. “Tell me how this benefits you, Ava.”
She just shakes her head. “Not your business.”
“I think the ways in which you benefit from amarriageto memakesit my business.”
