Age of Ava (Vested Interest – ABC Corp #3) Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Vested Interest - ABC Corp Series by Melanie Moreland
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
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“I see,” she said. “So, you have no desire to have sex with me anymore.”

“It’s not that. Not at all. Frankly, I’d give my left nut to have sex with you.”

“Your left nut?” She frowned. “Are you left-handed?”

“No.”

Her eyes twinkled. Danced with mischief.

“So, you wouldn’t give your more predominant nut—the right one—to have sex with me. Only your slightly useless left one.”

For a moment, I stared. Then I began to chuckle. The chuckle became a guffaw, which turned into a deep laugh. The kind you have to hold your stomach while emitting. I bent over, gasping for air as I shouted my amusement into my hand.

Who was this crazy, outspoken woman? And how did she make me feel this way—lighter and more relaxed than I could recall feeling every time I was in her presence?

Finally, I wiped my eyes. “You’re a strange girl, Ava Callaghan.” I swiped at my mouth with a napkin and stood, looking down at her. Before she could say anything, I bent down and kissed her briefly. Hard. Not caring who was watching.

“And yes, I’d give my right nut.” Then I winked and tossed a couple of twenties on the table. “Breakfast is on me.”

I was still laughing as I walked out of the restaurant.

* * *

My smile faded as I pulled up to the house, finding a car full of women waiting for me. I climbed out of the truck, grabbing the bags.

“Whatever you’re selling, ladies, I’m not interested. And if you’re some sort of welcome wagon, consider your job done.”

I walked past them, nodding. “Have a good day.”

“Oh, Ava didn’t mention how handsome you were.”

I stopped short at the sound of her name. “Ava?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Did she send you?”

The eldest woman stepped forward. Her hair was snow-white, her hazel eyes intelligent, and her voice clear.

“No, Ava didn’t send us. In fact, she informed us you were private and to stay away. But seeing as you are our new neighbor and on your own, we wanted to welcome you and introduce ourselves.”

Another woman spoke up. She held a covered dish in her hand. “That’s what neighbors do.” She eyed me speculatively. Her green gaze was bright, as was her smile. Her purple streaks and facial features let me know she was Ava’s mother.

“I’m not here for long.”

Another woman holding some sort of container laughed. “You’re here now.”

I hesitated, wanting to tell them to go away. I didn’t do neighbors. I didn’t do anyone. I preferred to be alone. That was what I knew. It was all I knew.

“I’d offer you coffee, but I’m afraid I have no way to make any. Maybe another time,” I lied.

“Your grandfather sat outside drinking coffee all the time.”

“I found a carafe,” I admitted. “But no coffeemaker. It must have broken.”

The older woman shook her head. “Stubborn like Jack, aren’t you?” She stepped forward. “I’m Sandy Hayes. These ladies are Ava’s mother, Cami, and her aunts, Emmy and Dee. Now open the door, young man, and I’ll show you where the coffeemaker is.”

I was going to argue but realized it would do me no good.

“I have a dog.”

“We love dogs,” Emmy insisted cheerfully. “And we brought scones.”

Dammit. I loved scones.

“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Follow me. Watch Cash doesn’t knock you over. He’s crazy.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, it was as if a hurricane had torn through the kitchen.

Sandy had laughed when I’d shown her the carafe, and she had opened a cupboard, finding a plastic cone and filters. “You add the coffee here and pour boiling water over it,” she explained. “It’s called a drip coffeemaker.”

“There’s no kettle either.”

“Your grandfather boiled water on the stove.”

“I have no idea how to use the stove. It’s propane-based.”

“I’ll show you,” Dee insisted. “That’s what we had before we had electricity and gas lines added to the houses.”

While she was doing that and showing me how to use the ancient equipment, the other ladies performed some sort of miracle. The counter was cleaned, some containers of food put into the refrigerator after they explained each had instructions to reheat or cook. They unpacked the groceries I’d bought, clucking at the store I had been to.

“There is a much bigger one about twenty minutes from here. Better prices and selection,” Emmy said.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

The kitchen table with its plastic table cover was cleaned off, and mugs and plates for scones were set out. They had brought jam and butter with them, already in doubt, it seemed, over my ability to have items such as those on hand.

They were correct.

Cash made a huge liar out of me, greeting them calmly, lying down, and accepting their attention with a wag of his tail. He ate up the attentiveness and cooing, making me roll my eyes.

Then the women all sat and waited for me to join them. I had no choice but to pull up a chair and sit, wondering how the hell to get them out of the house—fast.



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