Free Faster (Stark Ink, #3) by Dahlia West Page B

She preferred their playful banter to this.
    “Just in case any of them forgot to kiss you like this,” he said softly.
    Ava turned away. This time he let her go. She stalked to the door, cheeks aflame.
    “Ava,” he called after her, but she didn’t listen.
    She tugged open the door and disappeared through it, wishing she could disappear altogether. She drove the Olds back to Sienna’s place and ducked out the side door once again. This time the sun was shining overhead as she trudged through the grass back to her own place.
    She mounted the back steps, headed toward the kitchen door, when she froze, peering through the glass.
    Her heart stopped.
    She stood motionless, unable to either reach for the knob or back away. The silhouette of a familiar figure loomed in the living room.
    “Sonofabitch,” Ava whispered quietly to herself. Her heart had re-started and was now trying to pound its way out of her chest. Blood roared in her ears.
    She couldn’t think what to do. She could leave, she supposed. That was an option. She could dart around the side of the house, slip onto the Honda, and speed away before anyone knew she was even here. She could even knock over the green BMW racer that she knew, knew, was parked out front. She might even slash the tires before she made her exit.
    But that still left the problem of the leather-clad rider standing in her fucking living room, talking to her fucking family.
    “Fuck!” Ava ground out and grabbed for the brass door handle. She twisted it so hard it nearly snapped off in her hand. She stomped through the back door and into the kitchen. Her heavy boots thudded on the linoleum. She stopped herself from slamming the door behind her, though.
    Calla smiled at her as she chopped vegetables at the kitchen counter. “Oh, hey, Ava!” She turned her head back toward the living room, “Ava’s home!” she called out. “Wash your hands,” she insisted, wiping her own on a dish towel. She leaned toward Ava and whispered conspiratorially, “I invited him to stay!” She grinned like she’d taken up the matchmaking mantle that Jonah had refused to take up.
    Ava took a long time washing her hands at the sink. There were knives in the block just a few feet away. She could stab him. She really could.
    “Thanks for inviting me,” a familiar male voice rang out from the adjoining room.
    “Oh, it’s no problem!” Calla replied. “Enough food for everyone.”
    Ava turned and looked at Adam, who was rising up off the couch at this point. He didn’t seem as perky as his fiancée. He shot Ava a questioning look as he moved forward.
    Ava shrugged. It was all she could do. The house was now a veritable field of landmines, fraught with invisible tripwires. There were so many ways this could blow up in her face, and Ava knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the fact that he was here at all meant things were about to do exactly that.
    Explode.
    Devastate.
    Possibly reduce her to ashes or maybe just vaporize her altogether.
    He smiled at her. Ava wanted to pounce on him.
    “Hey, there,” he said, sounding ridiculously cheerful under the circumstances. The sharpness in his eyes didn’t fool her, though.
    Ava gritted her teeth and forced her own smile. “Clint.”
    Calla stepped between them, carrying a huge bowl of tossed salad. “Lunch is ready!”

Chapter Nine
    A va couldn’t move, either toward the dining room table or to the front door to escape. She stared at Clint. Surely he wasn’t actually staying? How could he eat with them? What the hell? If this was some kind of sick, twisted game, he could forget it. She wasn’t going to play.
    He was obviously here to bring the hammer down on her and he might as well fucking do it and get it over with. She’d been dodging him for months now, quite successfully. But she guessed she’d been as big an idiot as Clint if she thought she could avoid him forever. She didn’t think he’d go so far as to involve her damn family , though.