Tragic Beauty (Beauty & The Darkness #1)(11)

“Thank you,” I say.

He nods.

I take a bite and close my eyes. It’s good. So good. I’ve made plenty of mac ‘n’ cheese before, but somehow this tastes so much better. Maybe because he made it for me. I can’t remember the last time anyone cooked for me. It would’ve been back when Helen was alive.

“So you were heading out, huh?” Gavin asks, eyeing me now. “You even old enough to drink?”

I nod and swallow another bite.

“Jesus, you don’t say much, do you? Every woman I’ve ever met can’t shut up, but you—I can barely get two words from you.”

Heat rises in my cheeks and I push the pasta around with my spoon, hoping he can’t see the tremor in my hand. “Just quiet, I guess.”

I take another bite, chewing slowly, mindful his eyes are still on me.

When I finally work up the nerve to look his way he’s standing with his arms crossed, his bowl already empty and sitting on the counter. By the way he’s looking at me, I can see he isn’t mad, but he isn’t happy. He seems…frustrated, yet curious.

I keep eating, while he says nothing more. Maybe that’s his way of punishing me. When I take my last bite, he grabs the bowl, along with his, and moves to the sink. I slide off the stool and quickly walk to where he stands and reach for the scrubber, but he grabs it first.

“Please,” I say, opening my palm. “Let me.” I want to repay him for all he’s done, and I know it’s not much, but it’s something.

I look up at him, wondering why he’s suddenly almost a foot taller than me now, then realize I was wearing heels before. Then I realize something else. We’re close. So close I can smell the clean linen scent of his clothes, see the tiny specks of gold nestled in the kelly green of his eyes—eyes that stare down at me, darkening. My throat goes tight and I know no more words are coming, but he still hasn’t yielded. Slowly, I place my hand over his and he drops the scrubber like I’ve burned him.

“Back in a minute,” he says, then turns away.

I’m not sure what just happened until I see him discreetly adjust his crotch. There’s no mistaking the hard bulge trying to push through the fabric. He leaves the kitchen as the air leaves my lungs. I turn back to the sink and lean against the counter for balance. When I reach for the scrubber my hand shakes. In a daze, I take the bowl and slowly rinse it out then place it in the dishwasher. I’m on the second bowl when I hear something.

I turn the water off and wait. I hear it again. A knock. Someone’s at the door. I set the bowl in the dishwasher and walk out of the kitchen, down the hall, and stop in the entryway, where a large metal door looms. Another knock, this one more insistent.

I hurry to the base of the stairs. “Gavin?” I call out.

No answer.

The knocks are growing louder and louder, like it’s urgent.

Shit, I don’t know what to do. There are lights on in the house, so whoever it is, knows he’s home. Maybe it’s important. Or maybe he’s expecting someone.

I close my eyes, say a silent prayer, then turn over the lock and open the door.

On the step is a striking, raven-haired woman with cold, grey eyes, bright red lips, wearing a blue sequin dress that reveals everything and hides nothing. As soon as I watch her expression go from haughty to angry, I know I’ve made a mistake.

“Who the fuck are you?” she asks.

She doesn’t wait for an answer, just storms past me into the house, knocking me aside with her shoulder.

“Where is he?” she demands, turning to glare at me. “Where is the fucker?”

“It—it’s not like that.”

Her eyes narrow on me, then drift to the clothes I’m wearing.

Uh oh.

Her face turns a livid shade of red. “I should’ve known,” she sneers.

“Really, my car—”

“Save it, bitch.”

She spins and storms towards the stairs when Gavin appears, taking the few last steps, and looking a bit flushed. My eyes can’t help but drift to his crotch, where things have apparently, umm, been taken care of.

He looks at her, then at me, and his eyes narrow. I look away.

“What are you doing here, Candace?” he asks coldly.

“And you said your mom wasn’t well. I should’ve known you skipped out on your award for pussy.” She turns to me. “And underage pussy, by the looks of it. What is she, twelve? You into kids now?”

Her insult doesn’t even phase me…but…mom not well…and…award?

I glance over at him. He’s calm, but the anger is there, set deep into his face. For a moment, he meets my guilty gaze. “Ava, will you excuse us, please?”

I scurry past them and back into the kitchen and begin scrubbing the pot.

Over the running water I hear Candace screaming words like asshole, lying prick, and child molester. Gavin’s voice, however, is more subdued, so much so that I can’t make out what he’s saying.

My lower lip trembles, thinking of just how much trouble I’ve caused him. If only I’d minded my own business, stayed in the kitchen, and ignored the door.

If only I’d stayed home.

Now I hear Gavin’s voice. “Out!” he bellows.

There’s more cursing and yelling on her part, including the words bitch and cunt, which I know are referring to me, but I shut my eyes and drown it out. Eventually, I hear the door slam.