Chapter 3- Fault Lines

Ava's POV Years passed. Nine of them, actually. Now here I was, pulling into my driveway after another long day at the pediatric clinic. I was exhausted. All I wanted was a shower, comfortable clothes and maybe something to eat. Before I crashed on the couch. Working with Dr. Snyder made the long days worth it, though. He was a wonderful pediatrician, and I loved my job. Kids could be exhausting, loud and unpredictable. They were also honest. Most of the time, brutally so. I walked into the house and dropped my bag near the door. “Hey, honey. How was your day?” Chet walked over and gave me a quick kiss. “Really good. Busy. How was yours?” “Good.” He smiled. “Why don't you get ready? We can have dinner with the neighbors.” “The neighbors?” “Yeah. I've talked to them a few times. They're interesting, but they're good people.” Chet ran his hands lightly up and down my arms. “Okay. Give me twenty minutes.” “Perfect.” I headed upstairs. Chet was different from every man I'd grown up around. That had been part of the appeal. Polos. Khakis. Clean-shaven. I didn't think I'd ever seen so much as a five o'clock shadow on his face. He had lightly curled blond hair, blue eyes, a chiseled chin and a perfect white smile. Everything about him was neat. Controlled. Normal. Nothing like the Razor Riders. Exactly what I'd wanted. After a quick shower, I pulled a sundress from my closet. I hadn't worn dresses much growing up. Jeans, boots and T-shirts had always been more my thing. But that belonged to another life. I was determined to leave that life behind me. I slipped into a pair of flats before heading downstairs. Chet was standing near the kitchen looking at his phone. The second he noticed me, he slipped it into his pocket. “You ready, honey?” “Yep.” His eyes moved over me. The smile I'd expected never came. Instead, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Are you sure about that dress?” I looked down at myself. “What about it?” “Nothing. It's just...” His eyes settled around my hips. “Don't you think your hips are a little too big for this one?” I stared at him. My stomach dropped. I'd been dieting lately. Chet had suggested we both start eating healthier before the wedding so we'd look good in the pictures. He'd said someday, when we showed the pictures to our children. We'd be able to say we'd had enough self-control to look our best. I hadn't loved the way he'd said it. But I'd agreed. “I think I look good,” I said. “My hips have even slimmed down.” Chet checked his watch. “It'll have to do. We're already going to be late.” It'll have to do. The words hurt more than I wanted them to. But I swallowed it. Chet cared about me. Sometimes he just didn't think before he spoke. At least, that's what I told myself. He took my hand as we walked next door. “Just a heads-up. They're a little different.” “Different how?” “You'll see.” Chet rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, the door opened. The woman standing there had fiery red hair streaked with yellow and orange. Her shorts barely covered her ass, and her shirt hugged every curve. Her face lit up. “Oh, hi, Chet.” Not hi, guys. Not nice to see you. Chet. Her eyes were completely focused on my fiancé. Then she noticed me. Her smile faltered. Only for a second. But I caught it. Like my presence had ruined something. “Hey, Spark,” Chet said. “I want you to meet my fiancée, Ava.” Spark. My stomach tightened. That sure as hell sounded like a road name. The woman looked me over. Slowly. Then smiled. Before she could say anything, a deep voice came from behind her. “Baby, who's at the door?” Heavy footsteps moved closer. Spark glanced over her shoulder. “Chet and his fiancée.” A man appeared behind her. And I stopped breathing for a second. Not because of the man. Because of what he was wearing. Leather. A three-piece patch. Razor Riders M.C. You've got to be f*****g kidding me. Nine years. I'd spent nine years building a life that had absolutely nothing to do with the club. I'd moved away. Built a career. Bought a home. Gotten engaged to a man whose wardrobe consisted of enough polos and khakis to supply a damn country club. And somehow, I'd managed to move next door to a Razor Rider. Apparently the universe had a sense of humor. Spark stepped slightly to the side. “Ana, this is my man, Blaze.” My eyes snapped back to her. Ana? Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing. I gave her a polite smile anyway. “It's Ava, actually.” Then I held my hand toward Blaze. “Nice to meet you.” His eyes dropped to my hand before meeting mine again. “You too.” He shook it. There was something about the way his eyes stayed on me for another second. Not inappropriate. More like he was trying to place me. I wondered if he could. I certainly didn't recognize him. Nine years was a long time. “Come on in,” Blaze said, stepping back and opening the door wider. “No reason to stand out there.” “Thanks.” Chet's hand settled against my lower back as we stepped inside. Spark laughed lightly. “Sorry. Ava.” She wasn't sorry. I knew women like her. I'd grown up around plenty of them. “Don't correct her,” Chet whispered. “It was a mistake.” I turned my head toward him. What? “I was just telling her my name.” His fingers pressed slightly harder against my back. “And now she knows.” My stomach tightened. Why the hell was he making this into something? Spark's mouth twitched. She was enjoying this. “Dinner should be ready soon,” she said before walking farther into the house. Chet nudged me forward. Every instinct I had spent nine years trying to bury suddenly woke up. I noticed the exits. The layout. The cut. The woman watching my fiancé a little too closely. Old habits. I hated that they came back so easily. As we followed Spark farther inside, she glanced over her shoulder. Not at me. At Chet. And Chet quickly looked away. I slowed. It happened fast. Fast enough that I could've convinced myself I'd imagined it. Except I hadn't. Spark looked pleased. Chet suddenly seemed very interested in something across the room. I frowned. First the dress. Then the name. Now this. Something felt off. I just didn't know what yet.