Thawing Ava Read Online Free PDF Page A

Hiding a grin, she moved away to check out his French-door-style refrigerator. No use encouraging him, even if she felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach. She opened the door and used it to shield her body.
    “First and foremost a premium coffeemaker—I need my coffee, no excuses—two six-burner stoves, and of course a professional-grade, best slow cooker on the market, an immersion blender, two sets of double ovens, convection oven to do roasts, a smoker, flat-top grill, walk-in fridge and freezer. Basically top-of-the-line everything with dark wood cabinets, brushed-steel handles, granite countertops, and cork flooring for easy cleaning. Oh and an ice cream maker. That’s just a few of the things in my dream kitchen.”
    “Oh really?” He had moved closer. Those two simple words, whispered in a husky tenor, danced like fingertips up her spine to tease her nape. She resisted the urge to shiver.
    When she shut the door and looked back at him, their gazes met, and heat wrapped around her body. Her clothing felt scratchy and too tight. Ava was the first to look away. Job: keep him out of trouble. He’s trouble. Focus, Jackson, focus! She looked back up at him. His gaze hadn’t moved, and amusement quirked his lips. The corners of his eyes were crinkled. He was older but still as sexy and appealing as he had been in college. There was a confidence and assurance that radiated from him, a sexual comfort in his body that reached out to caress her and remind her that he was all man. She ducked her gaze, which snagged on the very prevalent erection that pressed against his fly.
    Ava swallowed and tried to ignore how big it seemed. The thickness of his erection looked like it would rub her vaginal walls right, maybe even hit that special spot that would make her see stars. Her internal muscles rippled and clenched. Her panties became damp; her clit swelled. She looked away and shuffled toward the dining room area, trying to put distance between them. The closer she let him get to her, the more likely it was that her caution and resistance would erode to nothing.
    He’s just like Perry, she told herself.
    Liar.
    Even a few minutes with him showed her that. It was a weak argument, but there was nothing else she could think of to stop her. Not even a reminder that her father was counting on her helped keep those errant, sexual urges away.
    Ava focused on the dining area. Although spotless it looked unused, no scuffs or scraps on the tabletop or floor. “No dinner parties or eating at the table?” she asked but knew the answer. He’d say no time. She wondered if any of his conquests came home with him, saw this, and wanted to take care of him.
    Her heart ached for him, and a moment of clarity hit her: the various women—never the same one twice—the unused dining room, the barely decorated apartment. Brice didn’t live here; he just stayed here. This wasn’t home for him. He was so blessed and yet didn’t seem to know or understand it.
    She resisted looking back at him to confirm her thoughts. Instead she examined the padded beige chairs and dark wood table. Unused candles sat in their pillars, having never been lit.
    “Nope. I don’t really need the dining room set, but I don’t know what to do with it. I keep wanting to donate it but keep forgetting. Besides I don’t have the time for anything. Didn’t even have a housewarming.” Again, he’d moved closer without her noticing it.
    Was this what it was going to be like while she stayed with him? Nothing but practice and making sure he didn’t go out at night? What else was in his life besides hockey and charity? Ava wanted to push him away, gain some distance, and yet part of her wanted to see what could have been. What he would do if she allowed him to get close. See if he’d let her take care of him. Where was his family?
    With a sigh she knew what she needed to do even if it hurt her to do it. “Brice, give me some space, okay? I’m here to make sure