Lost the Handle (Nashville Assassins: Next Generation #8)

Chapter 22

Chapter

Twenty-Two

Emery

If I could bottle the look on Ava’s face, I’d label it: Salty-Ass Bitch.

Her eyes narrow to slits, her cheeks redden, and her mouth parts as if her glare can send me straight to hell. News flash, I already have my ticket to hell, but it isn’t time to punch it yet. I see a lot of emotions in her eyes, mostly anger. It may be wishful thinking, but I think I also see fear in those bright-blue depths.

Interesting.

I don’t look at Quinn. I don’t want to know what his face is showing or what excuse he might try to make. Though, I don’t know that he will. He defended his mom…but she is his mom. She didn’t frame it because the picture is amazing, but because she loves it. As much as my retort may absolutely start a brawl, I believe what I said. I won’t apologize. Even Elli Adler knows I am Quinn’s future.

Ava is a little speed bump.

I’m the whole-ass route.

Before Ava can even utter a word—or a slur, which I think is what she’s going for—the door from the garage flies open, and Evan barrels in. He looks around the room, and a wide grin moves across his lips, his blue eyes flashing with excitement. “Did I miss anything?” he pants, and Shelli waves her arms wildly.

“Shh!”

“Ooh, is it happening?”

“What’s happening?” Callie asks, coming to his side.

“Nothing,” Quinn bites out, but I still don’t chance a glance. Not when my gaze is locked with Ava’s. I don’t know what he sees in her. I was trying to be kind, trying not to tear down a fellow queen, but damn it, this bitch belongs in an ice castle singing “Let it Go.” She is not his type. His type is me, and the sooner he accepts that, the better off we’ll all be. “Everything is fine,” he insists, and I feel him looking at me.

“Are you really going to allow her?—”

Quinn cuts her off. “I said, everything is fine,” he repeats. “Mom, isn’t that right?”

Ava looks away then, and yes, I’m a petty little thing because I smile a huge, triumphant grin. When I look at Elli, she’s nodding quickly. “Yes, yes, everyone is here. Let’s eat!”

Dad comes in then, with Shea on his heels. He looks around and then glances back at Shea, as Aiden and Boon appear in the doorway. “I think I’m choking on the tension in here.”

Shea snorts. “I’d think so, with the fiancée, the ex he isn’t over, and my—” Shea’s voice trails off when he notices we’re all in the room. He smiles broadly at us and goes quickly to his wife. Shea kisses her temple before muttering, “Couldn’t tell me they were all here?”

“Couldn’t look around before you further buried our son?” she retorts, setting him with a look. Shea’s brows touch, and he leans in to ask her something. I watch as she turns to whisper in his ear. He looks back at the picture and then at her. He makes a face, and I don’t miss the way he side-eyes Ava.

Go, Shea Adler! Tell her this is your house! Tell her that picture is real life and what’s happening is just some weird bad dream!

But unfortunately, he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses his wife’s lips and then tells everyone to go to the dining room. When I purposely sit across from Quinn, I don’t miss the way Ava glares at me. Little does she know, I’m allowing her to sit in my seat. I cross my legs, and when I look up, Quinn is watching me again. His eyes are hooded, and as he wets his bottom lip, I quirk my lips at the side. I don’t know why he’s looking at me that way, but I like it.

But then my phone sounds between my legs. Before I can reach for it, Mom flashes me a dark look, and I mouth sorry before I glance at it.

Quinn: No more. Please.

Me: Your eyes and the way you’re licking your lip are saying, “Climb in my lap, please.”

I grin to myself as I set my phone down. When I look across the table, he’s looking down at his phone, and I don’t miss the red creeping up his neck. He tucks his phone into his back pocket and sends me a pointed look that I just ignore. I have no issues behaving, as long as she does.

As much as my immature, petty self wants her not to behave, she does. She eats her salad, not involving herself in any conversations. There are a lot of them too. This table has sixteen people around it. Sure, convos with my nephews would be boring, but still, there are plenty of people to talk to, but she eats her salad and types on her phone. Which would be fine any other time, but I hate how Quinn is just sitting there. Almost as if he’s not allowed to speak, and I swear, if that’s the case, I’m swinging.

“I don’t know, we’ll see how it goes. Boon doesn’t really want to involve a stranger.” Posey’s comment to my mom has my brows drawing in. I was so focused on Quinn and Ava, I missed something here.

I look over at Quinn’s big sister. “A stranger for what?”

Posey meets my gaze, her greenish eyes filled with such pain and longing. This must have to do with her pregnancy issues. “A surrogate.”

“Not to sound like a jackass, but I don’t trust people. How can I trust that they’ll take care of my child the way my wife would?” Boon explains, and I nod. “I know how that sounds, but it scares me.”

“I get that,” I agree, and Posey squeezes my wrist. I don’t miss how Ava’s eyes cut to where Posey holds me. I don’t have to say a thing. She knows I belong, and she doesn’t. Clearing my throat, I tell them, “It’s all just so hard.”

“It is,” Posey says, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Adoption?”

Boon shakes his head. “I only want a child of Posey’s.”

Posey swallows hard as their eyes meet, and my heart sings for their love. He has always been so damn in love with her. So supportive. Everything she needs.

Before I can fully swoon over Boon’s actions, Ava says, “But it would be helping a child in need, not just adding to the population.” She chews a piece of lettuce she just put in her mouth. Honestly, I don’t think she’s meaning to be a bitch; it just comes off that way because she is one. “Or a foster child.”

Posey takes a deep breath as her big, protective husband bristles beside her. “That’s not what we want. We want a child of our own.”

Ava looks over at him, that shitty bedside manner of hers on full display. “Just saying, there are a lot of starving children, but you’re wanting to pay someone to carry a baby for you. It’d be more cost-effective, less invasive for the carrying cow, and you could give a good life to a child. You already have one with your blood, so you’re good.”

“Enough,” Quinn snaps, and I look over to find him red-faced. “This is no one’s decision but my sister's and her husband’s.” He then looks across the table at them. “We’ll support you and love any niece or nephew you give us.”

Ava looks like she’s been slapped. “I didn’t mean to offend you?—”

“But you did,” Boon snaps. His voice doesn’t ease off either as he continues. “This is a very sensitive subject and maybe not one to discuss among so many people—with so many different opinions.”

And people think I’m scary.

“I apologize. That wasn’t my intent,” she murmurs softly, and once more, the tension is thicker than a snicker.

I swallow hard, hating how suffocated I am feeling in a place I call a home. I’m overwhelmed by so many feelings, and without really thinking, I say, “I’ll carry a baby for you guys.”

Posey chokes on her drink as Boon’s fork stops almost to his mouth. My dad spits out the drink he just took, and my mom gawks at me. “Emery Elaine!”

“What?” I ask, shrugging. “I work from home, I take good care of myself, I don’t work out as much as I should, but I can walk if it’s healthy for the baby. I’m not attached since your brother is marrying someone else, and I don’t plan on becoming attached to anyone but him.”

I have no chill. I am well aware.

Before either Posey or Boon can say anything, Quinn’s gruff voice fills the space. “No fucking way.”

Everyone gasps at that, but slowly, I move my gaze to his. His eyes are so fierce, dark, and set on me. I know I’m poking the bear, but I ask, “Why not?”

“Because I fucking said so.”

“Quinn Phillips! The kids are at the table!” Elli complains, but I don’t even know if he hears her.

Zac sure does. Between Posey and Boon, Zac asks, “Is fucking a bad word?”

Dad and Shea sputter with laughter as Posey tries to parent, but my eyes are glued to Quinn’s and I hear nothing but my heart slamming in my chest. “That’s not a good enough reason for me.”

Before he can come back at me, Ava adds, “It’s her life. She can do what she wants.”

“Text Yvette, and stay out of this,” he snaps at her, and Lordy, he’s so hot right now. I feel his heated gaze all over my body, and chills run down my spine. His eyes are fixed on me, and I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. “You heard me.”

Oh, I did. I heard and felt those words all over my body. “Yes, sir.”

His eye twitches, and I snort. Glancing over to Posey and Boon, I shrug. “Sorry, guys. I’ve been told by my engaged ex that I can’t. Guess I gotta listen.”

“Emery,” he says, low and dangerous, pulling my gaze from his sister.

I smile sweetly, leaning on my hand. “Yes, Quinnifer?”

He glares since I usually only call him that when he’s being annoying. But before he can scold me or say whatever he planned to say, Ava’s phone rings, pulling his attention away from me.

Something I’m not a fan of.

She answers it and then says, “Yes. I’m on my way.”

She sighs before standing up, Quinn doing the same. “I have to go.” She looks up at him and holds out her hand. “Can I have the keys?”

“I can take you.”

Her eyes narrow. “It’s okay. Stay and enjoy dinner. I’ll swing by to get you later.”

“Or I can take him home. Since we live together,” I offer, taking a bite of the asparagus on my fork.

I watch as Quinn’s eyes drift shut, and he exhales a heavy breath. Ava is stone-faced as he gives her the keys. She is trying not to let me affect her, but I know I’m crawling under her skin. She blows out a breath and then pats his chest. “Just text me wherever you end up.”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, and she moves her gaze to Elli and Shea. “Thank you for having me. Until next time.”

“I can box that up for you—” But before Elli can even finish her sentence, Ava is storming out of the house.

When everyone’s gaze falls on me, I ask, “What?”