Three

Ava

I rang the doorbell at Dad’s house and waited.

The door slammed open. “Ava!” Dad barreled out and swept me up in a bear hug.

“Dad, don't—” Air snuffed out of my lungs as he squeezed me tight.

He grinned and butterfly-kissed my cheek. A reluctant smile pulled at my lips. His hug probably cracked my back in five places, but it was snuggly and warm, so I allowed it.

“How are you, Peanut?” He dropped me, ruffling my hair.

This was the drill whenever I came over for Sunday dinners. I gave up styling my hair and simply opted for ponytails. Dad’s many hugs and head rubs left me looking like I’d been buzzed with static electricity.

“I'm fine, Dad.” I ran my free hand through my hair. “You’re as cheerful as ever.”

His always-smiling brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “You know it.” “Here.” I handed him the paper bag that had somehow survived his

tackling hug.

Dad took it and peeked in. “Cake,” he exhaled. “Did you make this?” “I wish. I got it from the bakery beneath my unit.”

He laughed. “Classic Ava. Come on in.”

He stepped back, and I slipped past his imposing build into my childhood home. Everything was warm-toned, cream and brown, with the occasional pop of an orange color Dad loved. The familiar space felt different today.

“Have you done something new with the place?” I shrugged off my jacket and hung it up.

“Nah, nothing really.” Dad shut the door. “Unless you count this new contemporary art piece!”

He rushed to the mantel, doing a Vanna White hand gesture.

My gaze skipped over the photos and keepsakes to the newest addition.

I gasped, hurrying to his side. The mini statue was shaped like a bee, but with the head of a woman. “The lady and the bee! You've always wanted it.”

“And now I've got it.” Dad stared at it, eyes soft. “Isn't it glorious?” “It is. How did you get it?”

“I may have promised Sonnie six months’ worth of cereal in return.” “Dad,” I chuckled. “You always trade groceries for goods.”

He ran a successful grocery store and could afford it. But still.

“What? I don't always do that.” His eyes rolled up and he pressed his lips together. “Well, maybe. This time was for my heart’s desire.”

I shook my head, still smiling. “Good for you, then.”

“Better on me.” Dad grabbed my hand. “I've never felt so alive. I'm trying new things. Like this recipe I saw online.”

He tugged my arm and I flinched.

“Are you okay?” Dad dropped my hand and turned concerned brown eyes on me.

Two nights ago, I had mind-blowing sex with a stranger, and now I'm sore in places I didn’t know I could be, I thought, keeping it to myself. Instead, I responded, “Yes?”

“Hmm.” He swept a disbelieving gaze over me.

“Come on, Dad.” I bumped his shoulder. “Tell me about your new recipe!”

“Oh, yes.” He jumped into action and I shuffled after him.

My schedule confirmed three homes to clean tomorrow. It would be a challenge at work. Every step I took revealed stiff muscles.

It was worth it, though. Fantastic sex with a handsome stranger was what I'd needed—and got. I’d had my once-in-a-lifetime, wild, carefree night that I could remember forever.

Even if it meant dealing with a few aches and pains. At least they came with the memory of a pleasurable night nothing could top.

“Ava?”

“What?” I blinked.

“You're standing there, smiling into space.” A line had formed between my dad's brows.

“Oh, don't mind me.” I hurried into the kitchen, smiling to hide my wince. “I'm just enjoying the aromas.”

Indeed, everything smelled delicious. My stomach growled in response.

Dad was a cook like no other.

“I didn't always know how to cook. If your mom could see me now, she would be so proud,” he often used to say. Mom died when I was really young, so Dad and his amazing meals were all I knew.

“I made avocado soup for the starter, chicken casserole with roasted

broccoli as a main, and for dessert—” he pulled out a glass container from the fridge and lifted it toward me “—creamy chocolate mousse.”

I could almost hear choirs singing with rays beaming from the sky to light it up.

“Ooh…” My voice tapered out. “What makes this different from all the other chocolate mousses we've had?”

Dad grinned. “Don’t worry, you'll see. It's a fresh new ingredient.” “Jeez, Dad, don't tell me you put a vegetable in it.”

“What? No.” He placed his prized mousse back in the fridge. “It's sweet, I promise.”

The dining table was covered in so much food. It was always a lot when Dad cooked, but tonight, it was two times the usual amount. My eyes narrowed.

“Dad, are we having a—” The doorbell rang.

“Oh, Peanut, I forgot to tell you. We're having a guest.” He started taking off his apron.

“Dad, what guest?” I eyed him, a smile on my face. “No, it's not a woman.”

“So, it's a man?” I gasped, brow raised. “You never told me.” “Ava!” He went red in the face. “It's not what you think.”

I grinned. “Really? What am I thinking?”

He rolled his eyes. “It's just a friend from out of town who's visiting.” “A friend. How cryptic.”

Dad rumbled an annoyed sound, his brows pulled down. He started speaking, but the doorbell rang again.

“Dad, don't keep your friend waiting.” I reached a finger into the casserole, but Dad slapped my hand. “Ow.”

“Don't touch anything. Tonight has to be perfect.”

“For your friend?” I nursed the back of my hand with a rub but still managed to wiggle my brows.

He huffed something about a smart aleck-y daughter but headed off. It was always fun messing with him.

My gaze fell back to the table and my mouth watered. I threw a glance at the archway that led to the kitchen. Dad’s booming voice sounded as he welcomed his guest.

That should take a while.

I picked at the steaming casserole in the middle of the table and snagged a piece of chicken. Score! That'd tide me over until Dad and his guest returned.

It was definitely a date. He was just too shy to admit it. “And here's my daughter, Ava,” Dad announced behind me.

I swallowed and turned in one quick motion. “I wasn't touching the food!”

My eyes met gray ones as they narrowed and my breath caught. What the hell was stormy stranger doing in my dad's house? “You…” I trailed off, unable to speak.

Not because I was too stunned. Something was in my throat. I couldn't breathe.

I was choking.

My hands clutched at my throat, chest heaving. “Ava, are you okay?”

“Dad…” I wheezed, bending over and coughing, my eyes watering. My hacking failed to dislodge the lump. It hurt so bad.

Somewhere in the distance, Dad yelled, “Help her!”

I tried to speak, but my entire being just wanted to breathe.

Strong arms wrapped around my middle, and a body covered mine from behind.

Losing breath…

The arms around me squeezed and my ribs dug into my side. The pain barely registered. I just needed air.

Another squeeze and the lump moved. On the third squeeze, the food dislodged. It flew out of my mouth and across the room.

Dad ducked in time to avoid it. “Ava.” He collected me in his arms. “You okay?”

I took in gulping breaths as I shook. “I'm fine.”

“Jesus, Peanut. Next time pinch something you can swallow on short notice.”

“I didn't.” Dad eyed me.

Sighing, I mumbled, “Okay.”

“Liam, thank God you were here.” Dad looked behind me. I froze and bit my lip. He was really here.

“It's no problem, Thomas. Choking is quite common. Helps to know the Heimlich maneuver.”

This cannot be happening. My wild hook-up was supposed to remain anonymous. Now he was at my dad's house. And how did he make the word “choking” sound so sexy?

“Not in this house, it's not,” Dad replied. “But I should learn to do that instead of screaming like a banshee the next time.”

Dad shared a laugh with his friend. Liam. Oh my God. I could put a name to his face in my head now.

What happened to good old anonymity and one-night stands? Dad would find out. He'd be mad, and I'd—

“Ava, say hi to Liam. He's the friend I told you about.”

Forcing myself not to cringe, I inched my way around to face Liam.

As on Friday night, he wore a button-down and black pants with dress shoes. This time, there was no tie. Just two buttons cracked open to reveal tanned skin.

My cheeks flamed and my gaze shot up to his face. He was assessing me just as I was him.

His dark brows were a bit drawn over gray eyes that looked like a storm ready to unleash its power. High cheekbones. Full, sensual lips that had gone down on me two nights ago.

“Hi.” My voice came out choked, my heart rate spiking.

“Jesus, I forgot. You need water.” Dad scrambled behind me and produced a glass. “Drink.”

I collected it and chugged, avoiding Liam's eyes.

“Come on. Come sit.” Dad herded me to my spot at the table. I dropped into the chair and drained the glass.

“You need more?”

Before I could answer, Dad collected the glass. I offered him a thankful smile. The moment his steps receded, I threw a glance behind me to make sure he was truly gone.

Then I leaned forward. “You’re my Dad's friend?” I hissed at Liam, who sat across from me.

His shoulders moved carelessly, brow lifted. “So?”

“So?” My eyes bulged. “So?” He couldn't be serious. “If he finds out what happened between us on Friday night…”

“I wasn't going to tell him,” he said. “Were you?”

“Uh, no.” I sat back and thought for a second. “Did you know?” “That you were my friend's daughter before I fucked you?”

A thrill traveled up my spine. “You don't need to spell it out.” “No, I didn't know who you were.”

His tone said he wouldn't have touched me if he’d known. But his eyes were saying he'd do it again.

My body heated with the latter observation. I pressed my thighs together and clenched my teeth at the sensation in my core. It could never happen again.

“Fine,” I bit out. “He can never find out. Ever.” “Ava,” Dad said behind me, incredibly close.

I whipped around, heart hammering. “Yes?” Did he hear us? “You’ll never guess what I found out.”

I gulped, my throat suddenly dry. “What?”