At the pinnacle of her career, orthopedic surgeon Ava King conquers the lucrative medical field of London.
A wild and intimate night with competitive Formula One driver James Ellis ends with Ava being stood up. The rejection leads her straight into...
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It's crazy (gosh, should I be saying that?) — anyway... it's crazy, but the second I step foot into Jamie's home in Surrey, I feel calm and relaxed. Despite the emotional turmoil I endured here during my first few weeks, it still gives me a sense of peace and safety.
Perhaps it's the fact that the place smells like James. Or that Adam has made himself very much at home. Either way, as I stand, quite literally, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen while cooking dinner the evening of my surprise, good behaviour discharge, my mind is oddly organized— a feeling I've long reminisced.
It's the first time I've actually found myself looking towards the future, not just the next day. Should I sell the place in Richmond? What about Adam's school? Maybe I should cut back surgery days once I'm back at it. I need to start studying again.
"Ava??" I startle as Jamie hugs me from behind and rubs my belly, a new found habit of his.
"Hmm?"
"I was saying, it smells really good in here." He dips a spoon into the cast iron casserole and steals a taste.
Oh to be a silicone cooking spoon.
"It's Morrocan braised chicken. And that's orange flavoured cous cous." I point to the second dish.
James admires me shamelessly, making me instantly flustered. He crosses his legs as he leans against the counter and brushes his lips with his thumb, looking like an utterly delectable snack.
Fuck me now.
I look across the kitchen island and see Adam deeply engrossed in a game of FIFA on the PlayStation. But not distracted enough, I'm assuming, to ignore his mother jumping some Scottish guy's bones in the middle of the kitchen.
"What?" I ask instead.
"Move in with me when you get back." He says it so casually. And says, not asks.
"The food that good, huh?" I tease, ignoring the fact that we once again seem to be on the same wavelength and the jolt of excitement coursing through me.
"I'm serious. You look happy here. And Adam is very much at home; my man cave is littered with LEGO—"
"Like you mind."
"Ha! Not at all. But he's happy and settled... sleeps and eats well whenever he's here. The distance to school isn't bad at all. And..."
James shifts awkwardly.
"And?"
"Ads," he calls out. "Let's show Mom what we've been working on."
He's digressing. It's probably a go-kart. Adam or should I say, Ads, has not shut up about souping up Jamie's old go-kart back in Scotland. Or the train ride (which I was very jealous about.)
But instead of leading me to the courtyard, or to the garage for that matter, they lead me upstairs, both brandishing equally mischievous looks across their faces.
