War (Boston Bolts Hockey #3)

13. Tyler

THIRTEEN

TYLER

I shouldn’t be even mildly surprised that Xander would break up with a woman on Christmas Eve. Through text . Yet here I am, stumbling down the hall in shock, carrying a T-shirt and the smallest pair of sweats I could find.

He broke up with Ava.

Ava’s single.

Neither of those facts should cause this kind of tightening in my chest. Her relationship status has no bearing on my life. She has no bearing on my life.

Except she’s Josie’s favorite person, and my kids’ happiness is all that matters to me.

The three of them are the center of my universe.

That truth is why I’m in a rush to get back to her.

“Where are you going?” Brayden calls from his bedroom at the top of the stairs.

I stop in my tracks and peer over my shoulder. For a breath or two, I consider concocting some story, playing off why Ava is here. But I quickly think better of it. The first night Brayden’s mom chose a bar over coming home, I promised him the truth. Swore he could trust me to tell him where she was, where I was. Guaranteed that he could trust my word. That I wouldn’t sugarcoat the difficult stuff. So I turn on my heel, clothes still in my hand, and stop in his doorway.

“Xander left without telling Ava while she was tucking Josie in. I’m not really sure what’s going on with them, but I told her she could stay tonight, so I’m bringing her clothes.”

“Dick,” Bray mutters, his focus split between me and his phone, where he’s been watching game highlights all night.

I glare at him. “Language.”

“You know you’re thinking the same thing.”

It takes more strength than I’d like to admit to fight back a smile and force seriousness into my tone. “You okay with her joining us for Christmas morning?”

Lowering his focus to his phone completely, he shrugs. “It’s your house. Invite whoever you want.”

“It’s your house too.” I step into the room and duck, forcing him to look at me. “This will always be your room. I will always be here for you, and I’ll always take your feelings into consideration. So if you’re uncomfortable with something, tell me.”

Bray runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes fixed on the wall behind me. There are a few Bolts posters on it and a jersey from last season signed by all the players. It was his birthday present. I’ve never seen the kid so excited.

It’s the opposite of how he’s trying to appear right now. Though I know it’s all an act. “Cool,” he says simply.

I raise a brow and tilt my head so I’m in his field of vision. “So? Is it okay if she stays?”

Going for nonchalant but not quite hitting the mark, he replies, “Yeah, she’s nice. And she makes Josie happy.”

I hook him around the neck and pull him into my chest, not letting go until he wraps his arms around me and gives me a real hug. “You’re a good big brother.”

When he pulls back, his lips are lifted in a genuine smile. Like me, Bray fell hard for Josie. It’s impossible not to love that little girl. Just like it’s impossible not to love this kid. “Thanks, Tyler.”

I squeeze his shoulder and back toward the doorway. “Always. Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day, and the girls will have us up early, I’m sure.”

With a laugh, he shakes his head. “Yeah, don’t stay up too late with your pretty friend.”

I roll my eyes. “She’s not my friend.”

“Yeah, yeah. We all know you love collecting strays. Someone left her behind, so you’ll find a place for her. You always do.”

A little stunned by his assessment, I head down the steps.

Collecting strays? Is that what he thinks? Is that really what I do?

Downstairs, Ava is sitting on the hearth, inspecting the Christmas tree. She glows in the light of the fire, her hair looking almost golden. For a second, I study her, take her in as she is, rather than as the woman I call Vicious . Rather than the quiet woman she has the world believing she is. In this moment, I think I’m seeing the real her for the first time since the day I found her dancing in the studio off the gym. I’m getting a glimpse of the warmth. The depth. Even as she smiles while perusing the ornaments, she emanates sadness. And fuck if I don’t ache to know what’s caused it.

Not because I want to use it against her.

But because I hate seeing her struggle.

And because I recognize that bone-deep sadness that comes from loneliness after loss.

Clutching the pile of clothes to my chest, I shake the ridiculous thoughts from my mind. She’s not a stray. She doesn’t need my help. She doesn’t need fixing.

Tomorrow she’ll go back to her life, and the girls will circle her like they always do. They’ll lift her up, and eventually, she’ll find a man worthy of her. Xander definitely wasn’t, and I’m not foolish enough to believe I ever could be.

“Got clothes for you.”

She swivels, slapping a hand to her chest, as if I’ve startled her.

I hold the clothes out, rooted to the spot, chastising myself for the thoughts I allowed to float through my mind. For pretending I have any clue who this woman really is.

She lets out a slow breath and a quiet “thank you,” but makes no move to stand. Instead, she straightens, her body stiffening and her eyes roving the room, like maybe she doesn’t know what to do with me here. Like maybe she’s uncomfortable.

Why wouldn’t she be? I have done everything in my power for the last two years to make her life miserable. Showing up late, ignoring her, taunting her.

Since I’m to blame for her discomfort, I make the first move. “You up for a drink before bed?”

“Um.” She remains focused on her hands in her lap for a moment, but when she lifts her head, she gives it a nod. “Yeah, I could have a drink.”

“Wine?”

“You got any good bourbon?”

I bite back a grin. It’s not the first time she’s surprised me tonight. I’m about to make a list of all the things I’ve gotten wrong. “Yeah, I think I’ve got something you’ll like.”

In my office, I set the sweats and T-shirt on my desk, then pick up two tumblers and the bottle of James Whiskey I picked up the day I came across this house.

I put an offer in on a whim after I discovered it on my way home from one of Bray’s hockey games. It was dark, and I got lost in the area. Or maybe I was found. Though I’m not sure I believe in that shit. Either way, I ended up in front of this house, and the moment I saw the for-sale sign, I knew it would be where I could give Brayden and Josie a better life.

Maybe make a better life for myself too.

And god did I want that.

I went to the liquor store, bought this bottle, and told myself I could open it once the house was officially mine.

That’s the only time I’ve had a drink from it. But tonight feels like the right time to have another. And no, I don’t want to dig into the reason behind it or why I’m sharing it with Ava.

I settle on the bricks beside her and hold out the glasses for her to take. Once I’ve poured two fingers into each, I set the bottle on the floor and take one glass from her. “Merry Christmas.”

With a coy smile, she taps her glass to mine. “Merry Christmas. ”

I watch her take a small sip, expecting her to cough. Instead, she hums appreciatively. Damn. That small sound only adds to the many layers of Ava.

“Can I ask you something?”

I nod.

“What made you want to adopt Josie?”

I rough a hand over my face. “How could I not want to? She deserves the world. How her mother could walk away, her foster parents too, blows my mind. It hurts, knowing they did it, but honestly?” I worry she’ll use this next part against me if I don’t get the wording right, but I go for it anyway. “I’m not even angry that they abandoned her.”

Like I expected, she scoffs, but I don’t let her get a word in before I continue.

“You know why? Because she deserves better than anyone who would leave. But I do feel bad for them. They’re missing out on one hell of a little girl.” I look around the room, cataloging all the shit I never had as a kid. “And I have the resources to take care of her. What’s the point of having all this, of working so hard, if I can’t use what I’ve got to help other people? If I don’t have someone to share it all with?” With my forearms on my thighs, I swirl my glass between my knees. “Maybe it’s not enough, but I love her. So yeah, maybe it’s selfish, but I want to adopt her because I want to be the one who does it all for her. I want to be her dad.”

When I finally turn to look at her, I’m not sure what I expect, but it’s not this. In the light of the Christmas tree, her green eyes are deep and full of understanding. She takes another sip of her drink as if she’s really considering my words, then gives me a soft smile. “That’s a really good answer.” She shakes her head, and then her eyes seem to dance around the living room again. “And you’re giving her all of it. I’ve got to admit, I couldn’t wrap my head around you being the one to adopt her.”

I smirk. “Admit it, you still can’t.”

She giggles as she brings her lowball glass to her lips. After another long sip, she lets out a slow breath. “Only because I wish it could be me.” The admission is so quiet I almost miss it, and a heartbeat later, she blinks away the look of longing that’s come over her. “Sorry, I think the alcohol is going to my head.”

“Don’t do that.” I straighten. “I like when you’re honest with me. When you’re a little vicious, even.”

Her smile grows. “I swear it only happens around you.”

Glass just hitting my lip, I chuckle. “Yeah, sure.” It’s a tease, but damn if I don’t know it’s the truth. And damn if I don’t enjoy that truth a little too much. It’s heady, knowing that I affect her in any sort of way. I bump my knee against hers. “Don’t sweat it. You may still have a shot if the judge turns me down.”

Shifting so she’s facing me, Ava blinks. “They can do that?”

“Sure.” I blow out a breath. “I have to prove that I’m fit to be her father, and if what my lawyer says is true, I’m fighting an uphill battle.”

“That’s ridiculous. Look at everything you’ve done for her. I love Josie with my whole heart, and I don’t even like you, yet I’d pick you for her father any day of the week.” Her voice cracks, and she blinks back emotion.

The righteous indignation that fills her on my behalf, the way she cares so deeply for my little girl, has me leaning forward and swiping a thumb below her eye, catching the falling tear. “Thanks.” It’s humbling to know that she’d pick me. That she believes I’m worthy of filling the role of Josie’s dad.

We’re closer now, my face and hers only a breath apart. My hand on her. My thumb now stroking her cheek. Her lips part, and her eyes move back and forth, taking me in. I find myself doing the same, cataloging her every feature. The way her body is inching closer and how her watery mossy-colored eyes are blown wide.

I’d only have to clear an inch of space to know what those lips taste like. To swallow her breath. Maybe get to the heart of her sadness.

“What does your lawyer say you should do?”

Her words have me pulling back, instantly awash in the knowledge of what a grave mistake I almost made.

Ava is heartbroken and maybe a little drunk. God, she must be to say I should be Josie’s father. She hates me .

I run my hand through my hair and watch the flames flicker in the fireplace. “Prove that I’m stable. That I have a system in place to support Josie. It’s not as easy as it sounds, since I’m a single parent who travels for a living.”

“But you have Maria.”

With a nod, I take another sip, relishing the way the whiskey burns. “She’s a Band-Aid for the situation. Maria could up and quit while I’m out of town, and then what?”

Affronted, Ava rears back. “She would never.”

I hold my glass out like I’m making a toast. “Maria is a saint. That’s for sure. And while you and I know that, the judge doesn’t. I’d never admit it outside this room, but he isn’t wrong. Josie deserves a mom and a dad. I’d be hoping another amazing family would come along and snatch her up if it weren’t for Scarlett and Brayden. But they need her.” I take another sip of my whiskey, licking a drop off my bottom lip. “We all need her.”

“Did your lawyer have any suggestions? I mean she has to have a plan, right?” Distress laces Ava’s tone. Like this is her problem and not mine. It’s nice to have someone care as much as I do. And it’s always been clear to me that when it comes to Josie, Ava cares.

Maybe that’s why I continue to open up, to spill all the overwhelming thoughts that have been swirling and keeping me up late into the nights as I search for any possible way to keep all the kids together. “She said Josie needs a mother figure. Another parent who can be here when I’m not.”

“So you need a wife.” The declaration is so simple, so flippant.

I choke on my drink, coughing and pounding my chest with my fist. “ Now you sound like my lawyer.”

Ava straightens, her eyes as big as saucers. “She said that would help?”

I kick at an invisible speck of lint on the hardwood floor in front of me. “Yeah, it would show stability. It’d be good for all the kids, really. I’m never gone for more than a few days, and I rush home as quickly as I can, but I do travel a lot.”

“I’ll do it,” she whispers .

I snap straight with so much force I almost topple off the brick hearth. “You’ll do what?”

“Marry you. I’ll do it.”

I cough out a laugh, even as a wild mix of emotions swirls through me. “Wasn’t aware I proposed.”

She glares in the way she reserves for me only. “Come on, it’s a good idea. You want to be Josie’s dad,and I want Josie to be happy. Tonight was proof enough that she’s happy here, so I’ll do what I can to make sure she stays with you.”

“And you want to be her mom,” I point out.

She shrugs, the move unapologetic. “Well, yeah.”

“But you wouldn’t just be her mom.” I set my now empty glass beside me. “Scarlett and Bray are part of this family too. Bray may not be mine yet, and maybe he never will be legally, but he needs people who care about him just as much as the girls do. This isn’t about you living out some fantasy you have of being Josie’s mom.”

Her glare darkens. “I’m not an asshole, War.”

I blow out a breath. Once again when it comes to her, I’m getting it wrong. “All I mean is that this isn’t the kind of decision you should make on a whim. This is life-changing. You’re not talking about a farce of a marriage to get one over on the judge, are you? Because I can’t put the kids through that. We can’t get married, only to get divorced after a year or whatever. And living separately wouldn’t work. There’ll be more home visits and inspections coming up.”

“No.” She places her hand on my knee. With that simple touch, the heat of her hand against the flannel fabric of my pajama pants, it’s as if she’s put a spell on me. One that makes it impossible to look away. “I get that you need full-time help. That they need full-time parents.”

“Until Scarlett turns eighteen,” I rasp.

She doesn’t even blink. “Okay.”

“This is fucking crazy.” Finally shaking free of her glamour, I pick up the whiskey bottle and pour two more fingers for myself. Pointing my glass at her, I say, “You know that, right? This is nuts. You don’t even like me. And you were dating my stepbrother. Is this some sort of revenge? ”

She scoffs. “God no. Do I seem like the type of person who would use kids for revenge?” She shakes her head. “Don’t answer that.”

She doesn’t. I may give her shit about a lot of things but one thing I think we both can agree on is that both of us care about Josie. She would never use her for any sort of revenge. I almost feel bad for saying it. Swallowing down my guilt, I bump my knee against hers again. “You’re not. But still, this is crazy. We could never pull it off.”

Realizing that I’m not saying no, Ava lights up. She’s more animated in this moment than I’ve ever seen her. “No. It’s brilliant. We both get what we want. We know exactly what the arrangement is and isn’t. And we agree that the kids are what’s important here. Their happiness. Their safety. Their lives. Because after her time here with you and Scarlett and Brayden, there’s no way Josie will be truly happy anywhere else.”

Just the thought of her being taken from me creates a pain in my chest so acute I have to rub at it with my free hand. “Of course not.”

“And do you think there’s another woman out there who could be a better mother to Josie?” She blinks and scoots back. “Oh shit,” she breathes, clutching at her neck like she did earlier. “Are you seeing someone?”

I laugh at the absurd turn this conversation has taken. “No, I’m not seeing anyone. And just tonight, I was thinking that I should find a mother for the kids, and that if it weren’t for our mutual dislike of one another, you’d be perfect for that role.”

She grins almost like she enjoys my response.

“So we agree—outside of our obvious distaste for one another—that we’re the best option for Josie.”

I dip my chin. “I suppose.”

“And we’re both single.” She arches a brow, as if she’s waiting for me to confirm.

Once again I give her a tiny nod. “But Scarlett’s only two. We’re talking about a long-term commitment.”

Ava nods. “Sixteen years until she turns eighteen. I can do the math.”

“Don’t you want a happily ever after with someone like Xander? A man who will give you the white picket fence, kids of your own, a love story?”

She scrunches her nose and then coughs out a humorless laugh. “A man like Xander?” She snags her phone off the floor by her feet and taps at the screen. Then she’s holding it up. The image on the screen is grainy and dark, but I can clearly see the nearly naked woman with her bare ass grinding in Xander’s lap and the huge smile on his face.

“Is that from tonight?” I grit out as I take the phone from her to inspect it. Rage fills me and bubbles over. How could he leave her here on Christmas Eve to go do that?

“I don’t need a man to give me a love story.” Her voice is soft but determined. “And I definitely don’t want one with anyone like Xander. I’ll write my own. Josie and Bray and Scarlett”—she holds eye contact, her expression serious—“can be my love story.”

“So you’re not looking for anything from me?” I ask the question, even though I’m not sure what kind of answer I’d prefer from her.

“I’d like us to be friends,” she says evenly.

The words hit like a knife to the gut. I’ve never hated a sentence more, and I don’t want to dig into the reasoning there.

Clearly reading my reaction wrong, she adds, “I’d prefer it if my husband didn’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I say softly.

Her eyes light up, full of mirth. “Say it again like you mean it.”

I chuckle. “I don’t hate you, Ava. I just—” I groan, sifting through my thoughts, hoping to put them in order in a way that makes sense. “I want you to be sure. Take the night to think about it. Hell, take a week. By morning, you’ll probably change your mind.”

Me? I’ll be left dreaming of what could have been. And kicking myself for pushing back rather than dragging her to a justice of the peace right now.

“I don’t need a night. I don’t need any time at all. This is how it’s supposed to be, War. Can’t you see that?”

Yes . “I don’t know. Fuck, this is crazy.”

She grins. “You said that already.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat and ask her one more time. “You really want to do this? ”

“Yes.” Her smile only expands, just like my damn heart. She’s so goddamn beautiful. There’s no way this won’t hurt. She’ll fall for my kids, she’ll live in my house, and she’ll be my damn wife, but she’ll never truly be mine. This isn’t my love story, but it is theirs, and there isn’t a chance in hell I’ll keep my kids from living it. She lifts her pinky and holds it up between us. “Pinky promise.”

Jesus Christ, this woman is so rare. My swallow is hard as I stare at that finger. Never have I ever longed for a goddamn pinky in my life, but right now, I want to reach for it. It’s a lifeline. A solution.

Blame it on old habits dying hard, but I can’t help but push a little more. Standing, I ignore the gesture and instead hold out my hand to her. “Then I guess we should head to bed, wifey.”

She blinks at my hand. “What?”

“We’re going to be married. For a long time.”

“I-I’m not sleeping with you,” she stutters.

A sharp laugh escapes me. “You are. But yeah, I’m not fucking you.”

She winces in response to my brash declaration and finally drops the damn pinky.

I blow out a breath. Jeez, some moments I forget how fucking innocent she is. I’m an asshole. I should have grabbed her pinky. But I wouldn’t have wanted to let go. I’d have wanted to tug her closer. She’d have fallen into me, not expecting it. And then…

No, Tyler. And then nothing . “It’s just sleeping,” I say gruffly. “If we can’t share the bed for a night, how the hell are we going to live together for years?”

That word—years—echoes between us, resonating, soaking in. That’s what this is. A true commitment. Though it won’t be a real marriage, it will be a partnership, and if we’re going to make this work—and god, for some reason, I really want to—she needs to be comfortable around me. And I need to get over whatever this fucking obsession is with her.

I offer her my hand again. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman, I promise.”

She swallows thickly, scrutinizing my hand. Like she’s worried it’ll morph into a bear trap the moment she touches it. I hold my breath, certain she’ll tell me to get lost. That she had a momentary lapse in judgment, but she’s come to her senses. That she can’t possibly put up with me for years. I don’t want her to do that, though. So I lift my little finger and waggle it. “Pinky promise.”

Instead of recoiling, she surprises me for the hundredth time today. Looping her finger with mine, she meets my gaze. “Okay, let’s go to bed.”