Vow of Devotion (Vow Series Book 4) Page 11

  “What’s happening, sweetheart?”

  “Why?” she whimpers.

  “Why what?”

  “Why would you want this?” Her fists tap against my chest with each word. She tries to back up a step, but I keep her tight against me. “Hudson, let me go. I have vomit all over me.”

  “I don’t care.” My hold becomes a death grip. “You ruined me in a single glance. Why wouldn’t I want this?”

  “Because I have a six-year-old inside who’s sick and projectile vomiting everywhere. It’s all over the place, including on me. Now it’s on you,” Ava mutters the last part, taking a deep breath before continuing. “It’s everywhere, Hudson. I’m sick. Lilly and I are trading turns in the bathroom to throw up. When I’m not hunched over a toilet, I’m desperately trying to get Lilly’s fever to break and scrubbing my floors so one day I can get my deposit back. I can’t afford to lose my deposit.”

  “Ava—” But she cuts me off with a shove to my chest as she steps out of my hold. Her arms come up and out to her side.

  “Why do you want this?” she hisses. “Before you met me, you were a young, single guy who’d never had a serious relationship. You meet me and you jump feet first into a relationship with a single mom. What kind of crazy person are you? What sane man would stick around and not run for the freaking hills?”

  “Mommy!” Lilly shrieks from inside the apartment. My head pops up. All the air is knocked out of my lungs when I see Lilly standing there, the perfect mini-me of her mother. Throw-up is streaked across her shirt, too.

  Ava spins around, hustling toward Lilly. I’m right on her heels. She bends, taking Lilly’s fevered-face in her hands. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

  “I-I-I threw up again, Mommy. I-I-I tried,” she cries. My heart breaks with every single word and tear filling her blue eyes. I circle my hand around Ava’s bicep, gently pulling her into a standing position.

  “Go to bed, Ava. I’ll take care of this.” I stroke her warm cheek with the backs of my knuckles. I don’t think Lilly is the only one with a fever, and knowing Ava, she hasn’t taken anything for herself yet.

  “Hudson—” she tries to argue, but I cut her off.

  “Go.” I point down the hallway toward her bedroom. When she doesn’t move, I repeat myself, holding firm on my order. “Go.”

  She swallows, staring at me as her eyes fill with new tears, and nods. “Lilly, I’ll be in my room if you need anything, okay? Hudson’s going to help us.”

  Lilly nods. I crouch down in front of her as Ava walks away. Lilly’s cheeks are stained red and her blond hair is matted to her head. My hands fall to her small shoulders, and I give her the best smile I can manage. “Hey, blueberry.”

  “Hi,” she whispers. “I don’t feel good.”

  “I know, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up. Okay?”

  I stand and swing her up into my arms, carrying her down the hallway toward her bathroom. There’s a fresh pile of vomit right outside of her bedroom door. I place her on the edge of the tub. I take a towel and new sheets from the linen closet, put the towel on the counter, and walk out of the restroom after telling Lilly I’ll be right back.

  Inside of her room, I find her a fresh set of pajamas and quickly change her bedding. When I walk back inside the bathroom, she’s leaning against the wall, her cheek pressed to the cool tile.

  “Can you change into these PJs for me, blueberry?”

  She nods, taking them from me. I turn around and focus on wetting the towel. My eyes stay trained on my task. I’ve been around plenty of kids. I love kids, but I’ve never bathed one and definitely don’t know the protocol.

  Even though Lilly and I have bonded, I can’t put her in the shower. I’m not comfortable with that. I put a little soap on the wetted towel and rub it together to make it sudsy.

  I wash off Lilly with towel, making the process as fast as possible so I can get her to bed.

  “Have you taken any medicine?”

  “Yes,” she mutters and wipes her eyes when they fill with tears.

  “Oh, blueberry. It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”

  She falls forward, burying her head in my neck. Her skin is hot to the touch and my chest tightens. Her cries are gutting me. I’d sell my soul to the devil to make sure she’ll be okay.

  I finish washing her off and lift her in my arms to bring her to bed.

  “Do you want to read a story?”

  She nods and points to a book sitting on her nightstand. It’s a mystery book for kids. A smile tugs at the edges of my mouth. Even in her reading choice, this little girl is adventurous.

  I kneel next to her bed and open the book.

  “Hudson,” Lilly whispers.

  She’s at the very edge, on the opposite side of her bed. “Can you hug me? It feels better when you hug me.”

  Fuck.

  This little girl and her mother are going to be the end of me. They already are the end of me.

  I fit myself as best as I can on Lilly’s bed, but half of me is hanging off and my feet are on the ground to hold me up. Lilly slides back over and rests her head on my chest.

  My lips land on the top of her head, the gesture effortless. One hand rubs her back and the other holds open the book.

  She’s asleep by the third page.

  “Night, blueberry,” I whisper.

  I wiggle my way out from under her, trying not to jostle her awake. Thankfully, she stays sound asleep as I tiptoe out of her room.

  After cleaning the vomit from the floor and putting Lilly’s and Ava’s dirty clothes in the wash, I rinse off in the hallway bathroom before getting into bed with Ava.

  She tenses when my arm wraps around her. She has a fever, too. “It’s just me, bluebonnet.”

  Ava turns in my arms and shoves me away. She might as well have sucker-punched me. Tears are streaking down her cheeks.

  It’s breaking me to see her cry.

  “Lilly’s okay,” I insist. “She’s clean and sleeping. I’ll wake up in a couple hours to check her fever. Baby, it’s okay.”

  Ava shakes her head and pushes harder against my chest. “Go. You need to go.”

  “Like fuck I’m going anywhere,” I growl. “What’s happening here?”

  “Why do you want this, Hudson? This is my life. It’s messy and dirty. Having a daughter isn’t always playing at the park or jumping around having fun at trampoline park.”

  “I know that.”

  “Why do you want this? You’re young, you’ve never been in a relationship, and suddenly you’re vying to be a surrogate father.”

  “I want you. And I want Lilly. I want this.”

  “I want you, too, but—”

  “No. I want all of you. The good, bad, messy, crazy, fun. All of it. Give me every piece of you.”

  Ava rolls her body on top of mine, groaning. I want to groan, too, but for a far different reason. For her, it’s aching muscles. For me, it’s an aching cock that’s spent too much time wondering how her body would feel against mine.

  “Every piece, Ava,” I repeat, winding my hands into her feather-soft hair. Her face is pale and drained of color, but her eyes light with warmth. The smile that spreads across her face makes me lightheaded with relief.

  Fuck.

  It’s going to happen.

  “I want you. Too much. It scares me, Hudson.”

  “You have all of me, bluebonnet. You’ve had me from the beginning. Don’t you get that? I’m here. I’m fucking here and I’m not leaving.”

  Ava kisses my cheek, but I turn her head, chasing her lips with mine. “I’m sick.”

  “Don’t give a fuck, baby. I have to feel your lips.” I press my lips to hers again, hard, thanking her for the gift she’s given me. “Sleep. I’ll help you get better. Don’t worry about anything.”

  Chapter 18

  Hudson

  Ava’s been officially mine for two weeks. I’ve considered her mine since I first saw her sitting on that bench. We haven’t spent th
e night together yet, at least not since I stayed over to care for her and Lilly. But it’ll happen soon.

  The smell of fresh-baked goods assaults my nose as I open the door to the coffee shop. If the noises from the coffee machines weren’t creating a dull roar, everyone in this shop would’ve heard my stomach growl. The cup of coffee I had before leaving the house this morning isn’t cutting it. I’m fucking dragging today.

  I’d love to steal Ava away from school and curl up with her in my bed for a long nap. Well, maybe a nap after I explore some more of her body. I can’t wait for tomorrow night. Callan and Brae are moving out tomorrow and Lilly is having her first sleepover with new friends from school. An entire night completely uninterrupted. My dick twitches behind my zipper thinking about the wicked plans I have for her.

  I’ll run my tongue over every inch of her velvety flesh and memorize every expression. The one she’ll make when I sink into her for the first time. The one she’ll make when she calls my name. The one she’ll make when she climaxes.

  Fuck.

  The twitch has turned into a full-blown problem.

  I force my mind away from Ava and onto the bakery case in front of me. An idea forms when I spy a blueberry muffin in the display.

  “Can I help you?” the young barista asks. Her cropped purple hair is poking out from under the cap on her head, and the tiny stud in her nose blinks under the lights.

  “I’ll take a coffee—black—a skinny vanilla latte, and three blueberry muffins to go.”

  There’s only one mission on my mind when I exit the coffee shop with a bag of muffins clutched in one fist and a drink carrier balanced in my other hand. Ava’s school isn’t far from here or my office, so her coffee and muffin will still be warm by the time I get there. I scarf down my own muffin while driving toward her school.

  Before heading inside of the building, I nab a pen from my center console and scrawl a short message on the bag. My phone starts ringing while I’m finishing the message.

  Callan’s name appears on the screen.

  “What’s going on?” I answer. “I’m dropping something off with Ava and then I’ll be on my way to the site.”

  “Hudson.”

  The pen stops scratching across the bag and I sit up straight in my seat. The inside of my truck fills with the tensions pouring off of me.

  “Fuck,” I hiss. “Don’t tell me it’s the tile. I checked it last night after I dropped it off. There weren’t any broken pieces.”

  “Tile isn’t broken. You need to get here.”

  “Callan. What. Is happening?”

  “Just fucking get here. I’m not saying this shit over the phone. No fucking way. Get your ass here.”

  The line goes silent. I hit my fist against my steering wheel. Goddamn Callan, the call, and the fucking unknown. There better not be anything else happening with the site. These little nuisances are popping up too fast for me to whack on the head. Callan can be paranoid though. Maybe that’s all this is.

  I hustle into the elementary school lobby. Behind the desk stands a woman in a severely starched blazer. I know who she is as soon as I see her: my woman’s nemesis or mentor, depending on the day—Mrs. Pritchett. I have to say, Ava’s description of tight curls and pudgy cheeks was dead on. I bite my cheek to stop myself from chuckling.

  I pull out my most charming smile. “Hi!”

  She stays silent, but her pen points to a sign-in form just to my left.

  I shake my head. “I don’t need to sign in. I want to drop this off for Ava Kincaid. Can you make sure she gets it?”

  “Hudson!” I turn at the high-pitched shout. Lilly breaks away from a single-file line of little girls and boys and throws herself at my legs. I bend, picking her up, hugging her close. The smile she shoots me wipes away the frustration from Callan’s phone call.

  I face Mrs. Pritchett again with Lilly still propped on my hip. The frown deepens into an angry scowl. I open the bag, give two muffins to Lilly, and then hand the bag to Mrs. Pritchett. She reads the message I scrawled to Ava, and as easy as that, the scowl fades and a girlish smile spreads over her face.

  “You have to get back to your class, blueberry.” Lilly’s teacher is waiting patiently in the hall, but I don’t want to hold her class up.

  “We’re going to watch a movie about outer space!”

  “You’re going to learn about aliens?” I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, just like Ava does.

  Lilly scrunches her nose. “I don’t think so.”

  The chuckle I’ve been holding in finally escapes. I bend, plop Lilly on the ground, and drop a kiss on the top of her head. “Have a good day, blueberry.”

  But Lilly doesn’t get going just yet. Before I can chase her off to class, Mrs. Pritchett interrupts. “This is sweet.” She gestures to the note on the bag.

  “She’s sweet,” I respond.

  Lilly giggles. “The blueberry muffins are our favorite because I’m Hudson’s blueberry! Want one?”

  She holds up her palm, presenting a slightly squished blueberry muffin to Mrs. Pritchett. The woman’s brows shoot up to her hairline, but then her face softens as she turns to the little girl in front of her.

  Lilly has that ability. She can melt anyone with just her sweet smile. Pride bursts in my chest. I run my hand over her hair. She looks at me, smiling. These girls are mine.

  “Thank you.” Mrs. Pritchett accepts the muffin from Lilly and takes a small bite. “They’re wonderful.”

  Lilly grins and squeezes my waist in a hug before she runs back to her watching class. “Bye, Hudson!”

  I wave as Mrs. Pritchett clears her throat. “I’ll bring this right back to her.”

  “Thank you.”

  I give her a nod and turn, heading back into the late summer air.

  My truck rocks to a stop on the pavement. Before me, the house is coming along quickly. There haven’t been any bumps in the road, and we’re on schedule to break ground on a few more homes in the next couple of weeks.

  I hop out of my truck, regretting the blueberry muffin. My gut clenches as Callan walks toward me with his hands clasped behind his head and his face turned toward the ground.

  Fuck.

  Whatever it is, it’s bad.

  Callan takes a deep breath, dropping his hands to his waist. “Man. You know I’m not judging, but . . .” He turns his face toward the horizon.

  “Not judging what? Tell me what the fuck is going on.” My demand comes out on a near growl.

  “The tile.”

  “The tile?”

  “No one else saw it. I don’t know if you got your boxes mixed up, but I’m the one who opened the box you left here. I’m not judging, Hudson, but fuck. I can’t get mixed up in shit like this. I think you took the wrong box.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Callan. Get mixed up in what kind of shit?”

  Callan’s wary eyes scan my face. “Shit,” he mutters. He spins on his heel and hurries into the framed house. “In here,” he calls over his shoulder.

  I follow behind him. We jog into the unfinished garage. Another worker is in there, stacking drywall.

  “Jordan, take a break.”

  Jordan’s head pops up, his eyebrows arched. It’s barely nine thirty in the morning, too early for a break. Callan doesn’t break his stare. He’d never done construction before but he took to it quickly and soon became a leader among the crews.

  Jordan nods and exits the garage.

  Callan’s head inclines toward the box of tile at his feet, the tile I dropped off last night after picking it up in Wimberley. The hand-painted tiles are the perfect accent for the backsplash in the kitchen.

  “Lift the top two rows.”

  My knees hit the ground next to the box. I peel back the flaps and lift the top rows of tile, then my stomach rolls at what’s underneath. All the air in my lungs stops circulating and the only thing I can hear is the rush of my heartbeat.

  Callan’s voice is too distan
t to make out any of his words.

  “What the fuck?” I mutter. I carefully place the tile back in the box.

  Callan lifts his brows. “Guessing you didn’t know that was in there.”

  “It wasn’t in there. I inspected each piece of tile when I dropped them off last night.”

  “Fuck.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Call Maddox. I don’t know what to do with bags of cocaine. No one else knows, right?”

  Callan shakes his head. “As far as I know. I came in to see the tile and saw it underneath. No one else has come in or tried to look at it since. I’ve been watching.”

  I nod and pull my phone from my back pocket, pressing Maddox’s name in a rush.

  “Wells.”

  “Brother.”

  “I’m busy,” Maddox sighs. He hates taking family calls while he’s working.

  “I need you to come to my job site up on the bluff.”

  He stays silent for a moment. “What is it?”

  “Found some shit that shouldn’t be here, unsure what to do with it or who put it there.”

  “On my way.”

  My hand rubs the back of my neck hard enough to take skin off. Motion off to the side catches my eye. David, the head of the drywall crew, pauses when he reaches the open garage door. When he spots Callan and me standing there, a tremulous smile crosses his face.

  “H-hey,” he says.

  “Did you finish the master closet insulation?” Callan asks.

  “No.”

  “Get back to it then,” Callan commands.

  When David walks away, still skittish my stomach turns queasy. David has worked for Wells Builders for years. So has Jordan and most of the twenty-man crew on site today. Not to mention the army of subcontractors who have been in and out since we broke ground. Sure, we have a new apprentice or two running around, but they, too, have been vouched for by people who’ve worked for the family for years. Not one person here is a stranger, which makes this so much worse. I turn toward Callan. “Please tell me this isn’t one of my guys.”