“But you’ve never slept with a man since that happened to you, right?”

Dropping her head to her desk, Ava shook her head. “No, I haven’t. God, that was so long ago. It seems pathetic that I’ve kept myself in some self-imposed prison since then. I mean, I know everyone understood it for a while, but after a few years, I could see the pity in their eyes. They were starting to worry about me. Wondering if I would ever be the same. Both Brant and Declan tried to talk to me, but it was so damn awkward for all of us that eventually we avoided the subject. It’s why I created this big bullshit illusion that I was normal again. I couldn’t have them and Mac thinking that I was still messed up over the whole thing. I didn’t want people feeling sorry for me. After I had the first fake overnighter, things were better. I made sure everyone knew it and I could almost hear their sighs of relief.

“When Mac came back from the military and opened his company, I knew that he kept an eye on me, so I continued doing it. A fake guy every now and again kept him from getting too close. I was too messed up for a real relationship, so it put him at arm’s length, but I had our friendship. No pressure, nothing messy to deal with. But he was in my life in some way.” Ava had told Emma in one of her weaker moments about her arrangement with the college guys who came over every few months, so the other woman knew well how far she had taken her efforts to appear normal to her friends and family.

“Ava, I believe you’ve pretty much answered your own question. After all this time, you suddenly have a man in your bed. You’ve actually let someone close to you without faking it. Your mind is probably scrambling to keep up with all these new developments. I would be more surprised if you weren’t having some kind of issues adjusting. I mean, it’s amazing that you finally realized that you needed to do something before you lost Mac, but maybe that big step has been a little harder than even you’ve realized.” Giving Ava a beaming smile, she added, “I’m proud as hell of you, though. You went after what you wanted and you’re living again. Shit, you’re as different as night and day from when I first met you.”

Curious, Ava asked, “I am? How do you mean?”

Rolling her eyes, Emma said, “Honey, you were always one of two ways. Either really tense or really depressed. There didn’t seem to be much middle ground there. I figured that like your brother, you were probably eating antacids by the handful. Even when you were being all bitchy or condescending, I still wanted to give you a hug. Underneath the whole tough exterior, you seemed so sad. I think your brothers, bless their hearts, knew something wasn’t right, but in typical male fashion, they just didn’t know what to do about it. Now, even after attempting to strangle Mac this morning, you’re glowing. You look happy.”

Ava was deeply touched by Emma’s words. Especially since she wasn’t used to having heart-to-heart talks with anyone, and she had to admit that it felt good. Maybe if she had had a sister to turn to after her attack, it would have helped her recovery. Emma was right about one thing, though—talking about your feelings to a guy just didn’t happen, or at least it hadn’t happened for her with her brothers. She’d caught both Declan and Brant looking at her thoughtfully on more than one occasion through the years, but they never gave voice to their thoughts. Having their sister break down in front of them was probably right up there as one of their worst fears. She couldn’t really fault them, though. She knew that they loved her and would be there in a minute if she asked. They were good boys who had grown into outstanding men. Blinking back the moisture in her eyes, she said, “Thanks, Em, for everything. For listening to me and putting up with my moods every day. No matter what I say to the contrary, I love working with you and having you in the family.”

With a cocky grin, Emma said, “Yeah, I know. You Stones can’t resist me. I think it has something to do with my sex appeal.”

“Oh God,” Ava moaned, “not again.”

Chapter Eighteen

When Mac called her just as she was leaving the office, she had been both surprised and delighted by his invitation out to dinner for that evening. He had been at a client site, so their conversation had been brief. He was picking her up at seven and taking her to Ivy, one of her favorite restaurants.

As she stood in her closet, surveying the clothing hanging there, she turned her nose up in disgust until it hit her. The clothes that she had purchased with the girls at the mall were hanging in her spare bedroom. With a girlish squeal of happiness, she tore through her apartment and threw open the door to the closet. She went right to the sexy black cocktail dress that Emma had talked her into buying. It was deceptively simple in design, which only added to its appeal. The slinky material felt amazing against her skin, and the strapless bra that she was wearing pushed the creamy swells of her breasts up against the straight neckline of the dress. She loved the wraparound shoulder straps that flowed so easily into the back of the dress. The formfitting design was classy, but definitely sexy. She paired it with a pair of black Christian Louboutin peep-toe, heeled sandals that she had bought years ago in a moment of feminine weakness but had yet to wear.

When she looked at herself in the mirror, she screamed for a different reason. In her haste to find something to wear, she had completely forgotten that she had just stepped from the shower. She only had ten minutes until Mac arrived, and she knew that he wouldn’t be late. She ran to the bathroom and dried her hair as quickly as possible. She had no time left to straighten it. She left it to hang down her back in a wild array of waves. Hopefully, Mac would think the carefree look was intentional. Next, she applied a light base makeup, along with blusher and eyeliner. She had just added a coat of gloss to her lips when her doorbell sounded. Yep, right on time.

She teetered for a moment as she turned quickly on her heels but was able to right herself and continue on to the door. God, she hoped she didn’t land on her face tonight in the restaurant. Maybe flats would have been a better option, but these looked so good with the dress. She’d just walk slowly to compensate. Women did it all the time, right?

When she opened the door, both she and Mac gawked at each other. He stood before her looking good enough to eat in a gray suit with a purple silk tie. “Oh, wow,” she gasped as her fingers itched to run across the fabric covering his broad shoulders. “You look so . . . awesome.” But she swallowed hard at the sight of the scratches still marring his otherwise perfect face.