Inked (14 page)

Chapter 13

Brody brought the Volvo to a stop in one of the empty parking spots marked out with a big yellow V, and put the SUV in park. State of the art security cameras surrounded the building and high voltage spotlights flooded the parking lot, but despite the extra security measures, his impression of the building—and the surrounding neighborhood—were less than unsavory. He would offer to rent Avery and Parker and apartment in his building, but she would never agree to that. Heck, she hadn’t even cashed the cheque he’d given her for Parker’s 5
th
birthday, so there was no way in hell she would let him pay her rent. But what if he asked them to move in with him? Avery wouldn’t be burdened with rent and he could provide for his family without her feeling as if she were accepting a handout.
NO!
He mentally scolded himself.
Don’t be a fool. It’s way too soon for that
. He sighed wistfully and ran a hand through his matted hair.
If only
.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Brody lied. “I’m just tired.” Sinking further into the seat, he raised his eyes and studied Parker’s reflection in the rearview mirror. The resemblance really was uncanny. Burnished curly hair hung in ringlets and brushed the collar of his t-shirt, and even though he was fast asleep, Brody knew what lay beneath his delicate, fluttering eyelids: chocolate brown eyes full of life and youthful innocence. Parker was the spitting image of himself as a child, right down to the tiny heart shaped birthmark above his upper lip. Veronica be damned! There was no doubt in his mind that Parker was his son. Of this he was 100% certain.

“Tell me what’s wrong or I’ll be forced to beat it out of you,” Avery laughed, but there was a concerned undertone to her voice.

“I swear, nothing’s wrong,” Brody lied again, and quickly tried to change the subject. He stole one last glance at the hot dog and candy coated boy fast asleep in the back seat. His son. “Let’s get him upstairs, shall we?”

“Shh,” Avery whispered, more to herself than to Brody, as she noisily slid the key into the deadbolt, trying—unsuccessfully—not to wake her son.

“Mama?” Parker mumbled sleepily.

Damnit!
She glanced over her shoulder at the two sun kissed, tousle haired boys and couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay, little man, we’re home now.”

Avery tucked the bear more securely under her arm and gave the uncooperative key a final twist, and with the nudge of her hip, the door swung open. The crisp, cold air that greeted them was a welcomed relief from the afternoon’s blistery triple digit temperatures. She made her way through the darkened apartment, turning on lights as she went and disappeared down the hallway, returning a moment later unburdened of everything she’d been carrying. “Okay, it’s time for bed.”

“I can put him to bed.”

“You? Put Parker to bed?” Avery tried, but failed to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

“I can put a child to bed. It’s not that difficult,” he replied smugly. “I do have nieces and nephews, you know.”

No, Avery didn’t know. In fact, she knew very little about Brody’s family. But that was a discussion best left for another day. Right now her biggest concern was getting Parker cleaned up and put to bed. “Okay,” she replied hesitantly. “There are facecloths under the sink in the bathroom and his pajamas are in the top drawer of the oak dresser.”

Before Avery could change her mind, Brody hurried off in the direction of Parker’s bedroom.

“Hey, wait,” she called after them.

Brody paused in the doorway to Parker’s room.

“I’d better wash those clothes tonight before a stain sets in.” Avery caught up to them in the hall and began stripping Parker of his soiled clothes, then turned her attention to Brody. “Give me your shirt.”

“What?”

“Give me your shirt and I’ll wash it.”

Brody looked down at the front of his t-shirt, stained and speckled with bits of hot dog and blue cotton candy. His jeans had managed to make it through the day unscathed, but his shirt was an entirely different story.

“Umm, okay,” he stammered, momentarily caught off guard by Avery’s somewhat unusual request. “But what am I supposed to wear home?”

Her mouth twisted into a coy smile and she took another step towards him. With only inches now separating them, she reached down and tugged at the hem of his lime green shirt. “Well,” she began, and moved a fraction if an inch closer, so close that she could hear the breath hitch in his chest. “If I have my way, you won’t be needing this until the morning.”

Brody didn’t need to be asked twice. Without a second’s hesitation he placed Parker on the ground and peeled out of his shirt.

This time it was Avery’s breath that hitched in her throat. The sight of Brody topless did things to her that was illegal in forty-eight states. The man was the very definition of sexy. Ignoring the knot in her stomach and the accompanying flash of heat that scorched every nerve ending in her body, she collected the clothes from the floor and turned around before he noticed how flushed and flustered she’d become.

Brody watched Avery disappear around the corner. He had
n’t expected her to want him to stay the night—not that he would say no to her request—and he wasn’t even sure at which point their day had gone from a friendly family outing to anything more than that, but who was he to complain. He’d steal every moment he could just to be with her.

Avery stood facing the washing machine. Her hands trembled. Had she really just said that? Yes, she had. She’d never been one to be forward, but this was Brody, not some random guy she’d picked up in a bar.
Not a bar, a tattoo parlor
, she quickly reminded herself. So why did it feel like her stomach was in her throat? Maybe because things with Brody were getting more serious than she’d ever intended or maybe it was because she knew the things he could—and would—do to her body. Then again, maybe…
Stop overanalyzing it, you idiot!

“I need a cup of tea,” Avery said aloud, even though she was the only person in the cramped laundry closet. Reaching up to the top shelf, she grabbed the bottle of laundry detergent and absentmindedly began pouring it into the washer. “Damnit!” she cursed when she realized that she’d poured out almost an eight
h of a bottle of detergent.

“Everything okay in there, Boo?”

“Yep, is everything okay in there, Slick?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Avery shut the lid to the washing machine then retreated to the kitchen, stopping briefly to add laundry detergent to the ever-growing shopping list stuck to the fridge with a piece of scotch tape. Her feet dragged across the linoleum floor, sore and swollen from overuse, as she crossed the kitchen and turned the stove on. It wasn’t until she heard the discreet creaking noise of Parker’s bedroom door being opened that she realized she’d left the baby monitor turned on. She tried to be as quiet as possible as she tip-toed across the kitchen and sat in the chair closest to the monitor. A rustling sound cackled through the speaker followed by squeals of laughter as Parker climbed into bed.

“I’m gonna tickle you,” Brody threatened in a playful tone.

“Nooooo.”

“Oh yes I am!”

Avery listened intently as the boys rough housed, Brody tickling Parker and Parker shrieking in delight every time Brody neared him. It continued back and forth until Brody stopped with the onslaught of tickles.

“Okay, buddy, it’s time for bed.”

“Aww,” Parker whined. “More!”

“Do you want me to get in trouble with your mom?”

Avery heard Parker answer with a definitive, “No.”

“Okay then, get into bed.” Brody waited patiently for Parker to climb under the covers, and when he was lying dawn and the sheets were tucked snuggly around him, Brody asked, “Do you want me to sing you a song?”

“Yes, please.”

Avery leaned in closer to the speaker and listened fixedly as Brody began to sing about all the ways Parker made him smile. With the tea now all but forgotten, she switched off the baby monitor and crept down the hall, stopping just outside the door of Parker’s bedroom, but not daring to interrupt.

The singing slowly came to a halt and was replaced by the sound of creaking floor boards. A few seconds later Brody emerged from the darkness wearing a smile that lit up his entire face. It wasn’t until he turned around that he noticed Avery standing in the hallway, watching him.

Startled by having been caught in the act, all he could do was shrug. “You heard that, huh?”

“Yep,” she replied, and glanced over Brody’s shoulder. Parker lay fast asleep in his bed, hugging the big blue bear. “Not too bad, rookie.”

Brody’s smile widened and he beamed with pride. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t know you could sing.”

Soft wrinkles etched his face as he frowned. His smile disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Avery.”

The mood had suddenly turned somber. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, but judging by the look on his face, she had. “I know that you’re trying your best to be a good father to Parker, and…” Avery paused to consider her next statement.

“And?”

“And I think it’s time we told Parker the truth.”

“Really?” Brody blurted out faster than he’d meant to, but this was the moment he’d been waiting for ever since finding out Parker was his.

“Really. Parker deserves to know who his father is. He already loves you so much. And you deserve to be a part of his life as his father, not as his mommy’s friend.” A huge wave of relief washed over her and for the first time Avery felt absolutely certain that she’d made the right decision. Maybe now was a good time to come clean, to tell Brody the one thing she’d been keeping from him for months. But things had drastically changed. Brody was a big part of their life now. Could she even go through with it now knowing how devastated he would be? And what about Parker? He’d be heartbroken. Before Avery could give it any more thought, she felt his rough, calloused hands on her forearms, his body pressing against hers, pinning her to the wall. There was an urgency to his touch now, something she hadn’t felt before. It felt different, more intimate than the other times he’d touched her.

“I love you, Avery.”

The words felt like a whisper across her skin, soft and delicate and full of promise. Any thoughts she’d had of telling Brody the truth had vanished, along with all sense of reason.

He kissed her, gentle at first but growing more passionate with every brush of their lips, every touch of their skin. Need overpowered passion and his kiss grew harder, his lips crushing hers, his tongue delving into the recesses of her mouth. She tasted of warm honey, sweet and rich. It was a taste he would never tire of as long as he lived.

Avery’s body quivered beneath his fingertips and she returned his kiss with just as much need as he’d kissed her. Waves of pleasure skittered through her body and her legs trembled, threatening to give out. She tugged at the waistband of his jeans, feverishly trying to unbutton them with one hand, as they stumbled across the hall to her bedroom and landed in a heap of tangle arms and legs on the bed.

“For fuck
’s sake,” Avery blurted out. She pushed on Brody’s chest but he didn’t budge an inch.

“I’ll get it,” he growled—unfazed by her sudden outburst—and reached for the zipper of his pants. “Sometimes it sticks.”

Avery sighed and threw her head pack into the pillows, brushing away a clump of matted hair with the palm of her hand. “No, that’s not it.”

He cocked his head to the side and looked down at Avery, puzzled by her sudden resistance. “What’s wrong then?”

“My kettle’s boiling.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Brody tilted his and listened. Sure enough, he could hear the distinct sound of the
kettle’s whistle. Begrudgingly he pushed himself off the bed and stood up. “I’ll get it.” He was halfway to the door when he turned to Avery and smiled. “Milk and sugar?”

“You’re joking, right?” Hurry up and get your ass back to bed.”

Brody sprinted the length of the hallway like a runner attempting the four minute mile, fast and furious. He fumbled with the knobs on the stove until he found the one he was looking for, and shut it off. When he was confident that he wasn’t going to accidentally burn the place down, he returned to the bedroom. But as he rounded the corner into the room, he was surprised—and somewhat disappointed—to find Avery sprawled across the bed, fast asleep.

“That was fast,” he murmured to himself. But as horny and hard as he was, Brody couldn’t bring himself to wake her. Instead, he collected a spare blanket from the chair in the corner of the room and covered her with it before crawling into bed beside her. Just being with Avery was enough. Sure, the sex was great, but he was happy just sleeping by her side. If he could wake up every morning to her smiling face, he would die a very happy man.

He lay in bed for what felt like hours, glancing around the room at the framed pictures that hung from the wall. A few months ago he’d sworn to himself that one day those pictures would include him, and now that day appeared to be closer than he could’ve ever imagined. Soon they would tell Parker the truth, and soon Avery would realize how much he loved her, that he’d never stopped loving her from the first time they met.