War (Boston Bolts Hockey #3)

32. Tyler

THIRTY-TWO

TYLER

By the glow of the night light, I check in on Scarlett. She’s sleeping soundly, her favorite pink bear smooshed against her face. I move the bear a little and brush my fingers through her silky blond hair. With a scrunch of her nose, she shifts, turning so her other cheek is pressed to the mattress, but she doesn’t wake. I watch her for a few more minutes, wishing I had unlimited time with each of my kids.

It took a while to get Josie down since she’s nervous about the dentist tomorrow, but she’s finally asleep, so when I leave Scarlett’s room, I knock on Bray’s door to say good night.

“Come in,” he calls from his bed. He’s on his phone, which is pretty typical lately, but he drops it when I step inside.

“Ready for your game this weekend?”

“You mean games,” he teases. He likes to point out that he plays a lot of back-to-back games, whereas we professionals need longer breaks between them. He’s not wrong. The older I get, the harder it is to push myself the way I did when I was his age.

“Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

He laughs, his dark shaggy hair brushing his forehead. “Kyle’s dad said I could sleep over Friday night so Ava doesn’t have to wake up early on Saturday to drive me to the arena.”

It’s hard not to smile at that. It’s taken a little while for Brayden to settle in at his new school, but he’s finally making friends. It helps that one of his teammates is in class with him. It’s just what he needs and exactly why I begged Trish to let me keep him in this school even after she gets out of rehab. Which should be any day now, actually. Fuck, I’ve got to follow up on that. Things are going so well here. The last thing we need is an unpredictable Trisha to rock the boat. If only I could control every aspect of these kids’ lives.

It’s exhausting, waiting for the court to decide whether I’m a suitable choice. Waiting for Trish to decide whether she wants to be a parent. Hell, even waiting for my wife to finally look at me like she trusts me. Because today in Madi’s office, she appeared ready to run. Ready to distance herself again, even while we both knew she could still feel my touch between her thighs.

It’s going to take more than a few orgasms to prove to her that I’m not going anywhere. Lucky for both of us, I’m up for the fight.

“Awesome, Bray. I’ll call Kyle’s dad tomorrow and make sure everything is set for the weekend. Everything else good? You all caught up on your homework?”

With an easy smile, he leans back against his headboard and picks up his phone, practically dismissing me. “Yup, Daddy War. All my work is done. You can relax now. You’ve done your fatherly duties for the night.”

“Cut the shit,” I warn him. “You know I don’t consider any of this a duty. I like having you here, and if you’re happy here and want to stay, we can talk to your mom.”

His attitude softens, along with his posture. “I know. And I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“I don’t feel disrespected. Just want you to know I love having you here. You aren’t an obligation. You’re why I like coming home. Why I have this home in the first place.”

“Pretty sure you love coming home now because of the redhead in your bed,” he taunts.

All I can do is laugh. “Yeah, I definitely like coming home to my wife. But she’s not the only one I look forward to seeing after traveling.” I tap on the doorframe as I walk out. “Night, Bray.”

“Night, Daddy War,” he hollers .

I temper my responding laugh as I shuffle down the quiet hallway. With everyone tucked in and Maria’s door shut, I allow myself to relax. In our bedroom, I find Ava sitting on my side of the bed in nothing but a towel, facing the window, her hair wet and her hands gripping the edge of the mattress. All that easiness drains from me instantly and is replaced with a heavy unease. “Everything okay?”

She doesn’t startle. She doesn’t even move. For a moment I think maybe she didn’t hear me. But then her raspy admission almost takes me out at the knees.

“No one has ever braided my hair.” She turns to face me, tears cascading down her face. They’re flowing freely, like she isn’t even aware of them. “I don’t know if anyone ever really loved me. Not the way you love Josie. Unconditionally. Without effort.”

I kneel at her feet and rest my palms on her thighs. She presses her fingers against my cheek. The move causes the towel to slip, but my attention doesn’t lower to her breasts, which are now barely covered. No, my eyes find the tiny, jagged scars that line the insides of her arms.

An intense rage slams into me as I grasp one wrist to get a better look. “What the fuck is this? Who did this to you?”

Her lids flutter closed as she shakes her head. Then she takes in a long, unsteady breath. When she opens her eyes again, there’s nothing but defeat there. “My sister was like Josie. She was sick.” She swallows thickly, focusing on a spot somewhere near my throat rather than my face. “I was created to save her.”

My anger dips, along with my gaze. I survey her scars again and press my lips to her wrist, willing her to feel at least a little of the comfort I want to give her. Fuck, I feel helpless crouched here, knowing I can’t make these marks disappear.

“Is this why you always wear long sleeves?” I whisper between kisses to the jagged lines that mark her pale skin.

“It’s easier to cover them up. I hate having to explain it,” she rasps. “I have bad veins, but my sister needed a lot of blood during her treatment. It’s just scar tissue.”

“You said you were created to save her?” I ask with a frown.

“Savior sibling. That’s one term people use. I’m a hashtag. A controversy, really. But my parents would have done anything to save my sister, and the doctors told them that the umbilical cord blood of a sibling with the right genetic makeup was her best chance of survival. They made me in a test tube, and here I am.” She offers me a sad smile and a gentle shrug.

“ Ava .” There’s a knife in my chest, and fuck if it doesn’t feel like I’m bleeding out in front of her. I don’t know what the fuck to say. But as I process her words, so much makes sense.

She makes sense.

Her quiet demeanor. The need to care for others. Her dedication to Josie.

“My whole life, I was told my purpose was greater because I was created to save my sister. She was my purpose.” She lets out a long sigh. “Now your kids are my purpose. I’m here because you need me.” A sob catches in her throat. “I’m so happy to be needed, because I love them. I love them all so much, and I don’t want you to lose them. I’ve never been loved like you love them. And they deserve that.” She sniffles and wipes at her cheek with one hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry. I’m not sad about any of this. I’m happy. I’m happy I get to play a part in their lives and watch them be loved in the way they deserve. I’m happy they have you. I just?—”

Hauling myself to my feet, I lift her, then spin and settle on the bed, positioning her on my lap. With my arms around her, I rock from side to side, my head on her shoulder, kissing her tear-soaked cheek. “You aren’t giving yourself enough credit. Josie has known a love like that since the day she met you. We’re all incredibly lucky to have you here, not just because of a so-called purpose, but because of who you are.”

Ava shakes as she sobs in my arms. With every tear that falls, my heart shatters further. It guts me, watching the woman who is always fighting break before my eyes. I’m at a loss for what to do or what to say, so I hold her tight and stroke her hair until her sobs turn to shuddering breaths. Then I shift back and slide her off my lap and onto the mattress in front of me so I can braid her hair.

Her voice is rough when she speaks again. “Where did you learn to braid?”

“My mother would get these awful nauseous spells when I was growing up. It was just the two of us, and she never complained, but on the days she felt especially lousy, when she couldn’t shake the migraines, she’d braid her hair before bed. She said it soothed the headaches. So I watched her and learned to do it myself. She’d close her eyes and listen as I told her about my day. It became our thing. Even when she didn’t have headaches.”

Ava looks at me over her shoulder, her green eyes vibrant from tears.

Dammit. Despite how they glimmer like jewels, I never want to see them like that again.

“You were twelve when you lost her?”

“Yeah. Moved in with my father that summer. I knew no one. Hell, I barely knew my dad. And Dory—” I sigh. “She wasn’t like you. She couldn’t care less about her husband’s son. I was an inconvenience. She wanted my dad to give all his attention to Xander.” I came to terms with it all years ago. For a long time, I did everything I could to get her to like me. To get her to love me. But there wasn’t a thing I could do to make that woman accept me the way I needed. “That’s why it was so important to me that you wanted Brayden and Scarlett too, not just Josie. I know what it’s like to be the unwanted kid.”

Ava leans her head back against my chest, her eyes locking with mine. “I’m really sorry about your mom.”

I press a kiss to her forehead. “Me too.”

She shifts and settles beside me on the bed, her head on her pillow, still watching me. “There’s a charity event next weekend.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Will you come?”

“I told coach I would.” I sigh. “I know I haven’t shown up like I should have in the past, but?—”

She grasps my hand and pulls it to her lips. The gentle kiss surprises me and quiets my defenses.

“I meant will you come with me?”

My eyes widen. “Like as your date?”

Her lips lift in the smallest of smiles. “Yeah, you are my husband, aren’t you?”

A soft breath escapes me at that word. Husband . Damn, I like the way it sounds coming from her. “Yeah, I am. ”

“So you’ll come with me? On time ?” Her eyes are narrowed a bit now. There’s that vicious woman that I’m falling too hard for.

“You worried I won’t actually show up, wifey?”

By the way she bites down on her lip and the smile that spreads across her cheeks, she’s enjoying the teasing as much as I am. Makes me wonder if her chest feels as light as mine. If, like me, she feels capable of anything right now. Including confessing my real feelings to my wife.

“No. I’d just really like to go together. As a couple.”

I push the hair back from her face and stroke her cheek. “I’d like that.”

And despite the way I want to pull her to me and tell her that she is loved, that I love her as much as I love Josie, that I’m falling in love with her , I just hold her until her breathing evens out and she finally finds rest.