Avery looks a little shellshocked, but snaps out of it, her eyes turning glassy. “Thank you, Amelia.”
“That’s what family does,” her voice is light and breezy like she hasn’t just made all of this feel possible with one visit.
I stand with her and walk her to the door and open it for her. Before she steps out, she wraps her arms around my waist and gives a squeeze. “If you ever need anything, I expect you to call too, Bridger.” I grunt and she pulls back to look up at me, all motherly affection and familial love shining in her eyes. “I’m serious. Don’t think I haven’t seen how you’ve tried to keep walls up between you and the family. I was letting it go because it’s what you needed, but it’s not just about you anymore. We’re here to lean on just like your Vibrant Ink family is. Let us help you.”
“I’ll try,” I grunt.
“That’s all I can ask for,” she chirps.
And then she’s gone.
When I walk back into the living room, Avery is looking through all the papers in the folder with wide eyes. She looks up at me and I run my hand across the underside of my jaw and through my beard.
“Sorry, that was probably a lot, too much maybe.”
“No,” Avery swallows hard and shakes her head, “that was amazing.”
My shoulders sag with relief. Talking about what we like and want to eat for dinner is a lot safer than talking about the elephant, or baby, in the room. So, that is exactly what we do. The big stuff will be there; it’s not going anywhere, and I think we both need a minute to just be.
CHAPTER 10
AVERY
As I get situated on the couch, I’m able to watch Bridger clean up the last of our dinner. He moves through the space efficiently and I can’t help but take in the way the muscles of his back bunch and move underneath his t-shirt.
The man really is gorgeous even though I get the feeling he doesn’t see himself that way. Yes, his brown eyes are intense as he looks at me and his tattoos crawl up his arms like they can’t bear to do anything else. But there’s more to him as well. Underneath the quiet brooding, there’s a steadiness about him which has helped to calm my fears and anxiety since the moment I locked eyes with him after screwing up all my courage to walk into Vibrant Ink.
Honestly, it was sheer fucking luck that I even remembered the name of where he worked. I’m quite sure he only said it once, but the small fact about him stuck with me. Frankly, I’m damn glad it did.
I have no idea where I would be right now if I didn’t remember or if seeing him again had gone differently. More than likely, I would be sitting alone in a hotel room surrounded by nothing and sobbing.
That is not a good look for anyone.
But that’s not how this day ended up playing out, and my heart flutters in my chest because of how damn sweet he’s been.
He didn’t yell at me or accuse me of trying to trap him with a baby. He didn’t tell me to go take a walk and get lost because I hadn’t tracked him down at some point in the last four months after finding out I’m carrying his baby.
He simply accepted me at face value, drove me to his place where he rolled out the red carpet, and let me into his home while making me feel like anything is possible.
The hope that has been trying to claw its way to the forefront of my mind since the moment his eyes softened as he looked at my baby bump, is getting harder to ignore. But hope is dangerous; I know that firsthand.
I’ve hoped I could be what my father wanted me to be, even though he’s never once been the father I needed. I’ve hoped for someone to see me, really see me, and still want me. When I was younger, the desire was innocent and wrapped up in a child’s desire for love. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve yearned for love that lasts, that is real, that is dependable.
The couch shifts as Bridger sits down. He’s close, but not too close. Is it wrong of me that I’d rather be snuggled against his chest right now instead of having any distance between us?
I swallow past the lump in my throat and try to push the feeling away. It won’t do me, or my baby, any good to give into temptation.
“You look damn good in my clothes, Sweetheart,” Bridger rumbles.
When I look up into his eyes, there’s a hunger there which has arousal flooding my system and dampening my panties.
Bad Avery.
The chastisement does nothing. I didn’t think it would, but I had to try. For my heart’s sake.
After we decided on what to order for dinner earlier, Bridger ran his fingers through his beard, something I was noticing to be a nervous tell, and muttered, “If you want to take a shower, I’m sure I have some sweats that’ll work for you until we can go by your place tomorrow and grab your stuff to bring it home.”
The way he said home, like I had a right to be inhishome, had words tumbling from me, “I really appreciate you giving me a place to stay for the night Bridger, but I don’t expect this to become permanent. I was spiraling after the meeting with my father, and I dumped a lot of shit at your feet, which you handled with so much grace, but I can find a place.”
