“Dad, would you mind calling the cops? And then please go sit in Julian’s bedroom in case he wakes up. Indi and I will wait out here and make sure she doesn’t try to escape.”
My heart was in my throat as I walked over to him, my hands shaking uncontrollably.
“Remember how I used to complain that your compost bin stunk?” Ambrose asked me cordially as he held Astrid’s head firmly down so her face was smashed in a big pile of leftover lima beans.
“I take it all back. This is sheer genius. If you give me another chance, I swear I’ll help you put 10 of these around the house.”
“I don’t want to talk about—compost,” I said, feeling on the edge of strong hysterics and still a little out of breath. “Are you allright? You literally ran in front of a car.”
“I’m fine! Who cares as long asyou’re safe,” he said, his brows drawn together sharply as he looked down at me.
“You’re such anidiot,” I cried, involuntarily gripping his T-shirt, wanting to freaking strangle him for being so reckless.
My ex’s eyes burned down my body until they landed where my hands were twisted in his T-shirt, my frenzied motion pulling it up so I could see his flat belly and the deep V of his hips. For a moment I froze. Then Ambrose put his free hand on my chin and kissed me.
Damn, I hadn’t forgotten this at all, the way his fingers dug into my skin, the way it felt to have his lips on mine, his grip spanning my jaw.
There was something just raw and fucking feral about him and apparently I wasn’t as immune to it as I wanted to be.
“Fuck you both,” Astrid said in a muffled tone, and Ambrose only shoved her face down further into some rancid banana peels.
Somehow my arms were around his neck and I was pulling him down closer, my mouth opening so his tongue could tangle almost viciously with mine. He smelled like gold and frankincense, the thick strands of his hair feeling so familiar under my fingers that I wanted to grip them andyank. . .
Waitshit shit shit
My pussy was pounding with need and I felt slick arousal soak my panties as I ripped away from him.
Ambrose was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling so fast I thought he’d hyperventilate just staring at me.
“Indigo—” he began, putting his hand out to me as Astrid screamed with garbled rage.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I told her as police headlights swung down the lane.
Because it was better than saying any of the things that were in my brain. I didn’t evenwantto acknowledge some of the things that were in my brain right now.
I just needed dick.
It wasn’t personal.
Ambrose stepped aside and the cops handcuffed Astrid.
“Unhand me!” she snapped. “All I did was burn down my house and try to run over my sperm donor.”
“Bye now!” I said politely as she was shoved into the back of the squad care. It looked like Astrid was going to be in jail for quite a while.
I turned and hastily waddled back inside before Ambrose could talk to me.
My back and hips ached. I was probably going to go into labor. Then Finn would fly back for the birth and I wouldn’t haveto think about Ambrose or my feelings at all. In fact, I refused to have feelings until further notice.
I was getting Braxton Hicks like crazy, I couldn’t get comfortable at night, and my daughter had dropped so low I was having to pee constantly.
It was time to get her out!
And tomorrow was Thanksgiving, the notoriously least sexy holiday.
Everything was going to be fine.
Sowhatif I was still a little bit attracted to my ex-husband?
