Page 166 of This Woman Forever
“Our babies.”
“That’s what I fucking said.” I get to the bottom and lower her, checking the footwear situation. Flats. That’s one wise choice she’s made. “No doing stupid shit, lady.”
“How is carrying a case stupid?” she asks, fixing her clothes.
How? Did she miss the breaking news? “Because you’re pregnant.” Lord, send me strength and patience before I explode.
“You’d better rein it in, Ward,” she hisses, wagging an accusing finger. Rein what in? Do I have to read her the list on what pregnant women need from their husbands? Love. Patience. I huff. Why can’t she be—“Cornwall!” she barks.
I chuckle, and Ava frowns. “How many times are you going to threaten me with fucking Cornwall?” There’s not much in this world I’m certain of, except my love for this woman and the hard fact that she would never voluntarily move back in with her mother.
“I’ll go now,” she yells, the volume of her voice making her shake. And perhaps the level of her frustration. She has no idea. It seems I got ahead of myself when I concluded she’s finally accepted my level of commitment to her safety. And now my babies’ safety too.
“Come on then,” I say, serious, collecting her case. “I’ll take you.” I head for the door, smiling to myself. I can’t hear her following. “Are you coming?” I look back, finding her stock-still, eyes a little wide before she corrects it.
“Have you called Patrick?”
“Yes. You need to be back in work by Tuesday.” But I plan on convincing you while we’re away to never return.
She watches me punch in the code for the elevator, and I dial John as the doors close. “I can’t believe you used the countdown as the new code,” she mumbles.
I ignore her. She absolutely can believe it. “Anything?” I ask when he answers.
“Not really. I finally got into the system and checked all the footage. Except the ones that still don’t work near the garages. Fucking security company. Whoever got in came over one of the boundary walls.”
I guide Ava out of the elevator when the doors open. “Let’s get Steve Cook on it.” My eyes narrow when I see the new concierge smile from ear to ear. And it’s not because he’s happy to see me.
“Hi, Ava,” he chirps.
“Mrs. Ward,” I correct him.
“Did you call the police?” John asks.
“Yeah,” I say quietly as Ava starts getting into conversation with the concierge. “They want to take statements.”
“But you want Cook involved?”
“He’ll work faster. Plus, I can talk to him while we’re away.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m taking Ava to Cornwall to see her parents.” I tug her on, and she cranes her neck back, not letting me stop her having a nice morning chitchat with the concierge. “We’re flying to Malaga after we’ve been to tell her parents we’re pregnant.” Silence. To be expected, I suppose. I come to a stop outside the doors of Lusso, smiling at the gleaming Aston waiting for me. “I’m taking her to Paradise,” I add, in case he thought he misheard me.
“I think that’s a nice idea,” he says softly. Approvingly.
“Where are you?” It sounds like he’s in his car.
“She’s not answering my calls,” he says flatly. “Just checking on her.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I breathe, biting down on my back teeth, as if I can stop myself saying the forbidden. Like... offer Sarah her job back. “Let me know.”
“I will. Enjoy it, okay?”
“Yeah, thanks, big guy.” I swallow and open the boot, putting the cases in.
“What’s this?” Ava asks.
“I think it might be a car.”