Page 90 of Insta-Family (Forbidden Descendants 3)

“Close maybe,” Maverick had to admit, nodding. “But I still probably got an inch or so on him.”

“Oh, for sure,” Cress agreed, stroking his arm soothingly.

“You guys aren’t helping any,” I muttered dryly. “Now I’m definitely not going to get any sleep tonight.”

“I’d take care of myself before bed, if I were you,” Cress suggested.

Maverick nodded. “Yeah. So would I.”

26

VAUGHN

 

; Now I was torn.

Avoiding Lucy no longer seemed like an option I even wanted to consider exploring. I had to be near her. It was an unexplainable need I felt in my bones. And yet, after that near kiss in her kitchen over the package of razors, I had no idea how to face her again.

I know, technically, we hadn’t done anything wrong, but I felt even guiltier about Wednesday’s encounter than I had after pushing her against a wall and attempting to extract her tonsils with my tongue during our fight a month ago.

Because on Wednesday, we hadn’t argued or been high on emotions, and I hadn’t stepped toward her, totally intending to make a move, because it’d been in the heat of the moment, as Lucy had described our first kiss. I’d stepped toward her, totally intending to make a move, because I’d wanted her as I’d never wanted anyone before in my life.

And I felt like a complete ass for it. But dammit, why couldn’t I just keep my hands off her? I could almost bet the last person she’d been with was my brother, and he’d probably touched her naked body all over. I’m sure he’d kissed her and put his mouth on her—

Jesus, I really didn’t want to think about what they’d done together, even though those very images were beginning to haunt me more and more lately.

It was none of my business, and I had no claim to her whatsoever.

But still…

I wondered, and the thoughts festered.

Ergo, facing her again seemed like more than I could handle.

Twenty-four hours later, I learned I could handle it because I had to. And Ava Grace forced my hand, showing me how.

I’d been hoping to avoid the house altogether: piss behind the garage, go out for supper, and just stay in my little hidey-hole. But then I spilled some ketchup on the shirt I was wearing, and it was my favorite shirt. So I needed some stain remover…which I did not have.

Wincing, I hurried to the house, and eased through the back door with a small load of laundry, hoping to get the one shirt cleaned, only to hear my niece wailing from the living room, and Lucy’s voice calling down the hall from the bedrooms.

“I’m coming, kiddo. Just give Mommy one minute, okay? I’ll be right there.”

Tossing my pile of shirts on top of the washer, I said, “I can get her,” and I hurried to the front room, where Ava was in her swing, upset because it had stopped moving.

“Hey, little girl,” I murmured, kneeling in front of her and reaching for her safety belt.

She grinned when she saw me, instantly done crying, and she kicked her feet like an excited puppy as I unstrapped her.

“Yes, I’m happy to see you too.” Eager to get my hands on all her sweetness, I pulled her from the swing and brought her against my chest to kiss her head and smell her hair.

As we turned to face the rest of the room, Lucy exploded from the hallway, pulling down a shirt she’d obviously just put on. I barely saw a glimpse of her stomach, but it was enough to stop me in my tracks and want to see more.

“Sorry,” she panted from a winded voice. “She just threw up on me, so I had to change my shirt.”

She stepped closer as if to take her daughter, but I shifted slightly, letting her know I wanted to keep holding her—a little tactic I’d learned from Noel.

“What a strange coincidence,” I murmured, kissing Ava’s head again. “I just spilled half a hamburger on my shirt and was coming up here to wash it.”

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