Fusion

Copyright © 2013 Tessa Teevan

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, storylines, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner.

Cover Design by Robin Harper of Wicked by Design

Photography: Kelsey Kukal-Keeton of K Keeton Designs

Models: Don Allen and Faith Danielle

Formatting: Champagne Formats

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Other Books by the author

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

PART TWO

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Fusion Playlist

About the Author

Other Books by the author

Explosive Series

Ignite

Incinerate

Inflame

Intoxicate

The Wellingtons

Combust

Conflagration

Clandestine Affairs

Instigation

Escalation

Sweet Southern Sorrow

“AUNT LEXI? WHAT DOES divorce mean?”

The question catches me off guard, but when I spot the mischievous grin on my husband’s face, I know what’s up. Lexi, however, clearly does not.

My sister’s eyes widen like saucers as she glances from my daughter, Ava, to me. I bite the inside of my lip as not to give anything away. Six-year-olds. They hear everything and have no qualms about repeating them, especially at the most inopportune times. Precisely at the most inappropriate moments in time, in fact. It’s like a little kid specialty. They have no filter, nor do they understand the concept of not the time, definitely not the place.

Case in point: Asking about divorce while my sister is in between contractions, sweating, and panting profusely all while shooting daggers at her baby daddy-to-be, who’s grimacing every time she grasps his hand. Poor guy.

And now, poor Lexi.

She’s not exactly in the right frame of mind to give her niece a lesson on the sad state of marital affairs in our society. To say she was taken by surprise would be an understatement of epic proportions. I’m not sure why though. The things that come out of my daughter’s mouth shouldn’t surprise anyone, especially Lexi, considering that Ava interrupted her rehearsal dinner to ask if Jace and Lexi were going to spend the night making babies. We can all thank Jeremy and his booming voice for that one. She also mimicked his waggling eyebrows and held her hands on her hips while waiting for an answer, and those actions came from both of us.

Or the time, right after Dad had finished up the Christmas blessing, she asked where Pound Town was and then lamented the fact that Daddy only takes Mommy there.

Again, thank my husband. Apparently, he wasn’t as quiet as he thought when he was “whispering” against my neck, so lovingly telling me what he wanted to do to me that night. Or, well, where he wanted to take me.

I’m still not sure if my parents have recovered from that one. Still, the memory of Jace nearly choking on his wine, Lexi slapping his back, and Jeremy beaming like the proudest husband ever always brings a grin to my face. I’m sure I’ll regret it one day, but for now, I can’t help but enjoy the craziness that always ensues whenever my husband and my daughter are involved.

Lexi scowls at me before turning to Ava and patting the bed beside her. My little girl climbs up without hesitation and gives her aunt her big, brown doe eyes. I want to laugh at her feigned innocence, because everyone who’s ever spent any amount of time with Ava Banks knows that innocence isn’t in her genetic makeup.

I study Jace, my sister’s sweet husband, and grin. He looks relieved that he’s getting a break from his wife’s contractions. Still, he’s smiling from ear to ear, more than ready to be a proud papa. My heart swells for the two of them. It’s taken them so long to get to this place, and now that they’re here, neither of them could be happier. They deserve this. Every single bit of it.

“Where’d you hear that word, Ava?” Lexi asks through clenched teeth.

Jace pales at the idea of another contraction, and I have to bite my lip again to keep from laughing.

Karma, baby.

That’s what Jace gets for the hours of pleasure he’s gotten from making fun of Jeremy for having passed out in the delivery room. Hell, Jace wasn’t even there, but the story alone was enough to have him razzing my poor husband.

Ava releases a heavy sigh—one that’s much too dramatic for a six-year-old. Lexi glares at me, and I shrug. Hey, I told her I’d leave Ava with my in-laws, but she—unwisely, might I add—insisted on the whole family being here. Don’t worry. We’ll whisk Ava away before she sees anything too traumatizing.

Then again, considering she likes watching those hospital documentaries that fascinate Jeremy, I think she’d be more than okay seeing a live birth. He swears she’ll grow up to be a doctor, and he’s only cultivating her interest with those shows. I, on the other hand, am way too squeamish to sit through them, no matter how “awesome” Ava claims they are. Blood and gore? No, thank you. Even this girl has her limits, which is ironic because, in high school, Jeremy and I were the complete opposite. Ava definitely didn’t inherit my squeamish stomach. Lucky her.

Ava turns her head and peeks back to where Jeremy’s leaning against the wall. His arms are folded as he watches them intently, his face free of any expression. When Ava gives him a wicked grin and winks, his jaw twitches ever so slightly. Shaking my head, I bite my cheeks to not laugh. These two are awful.