Crime (h.s. au)

Chapter Forty Three

"Can I help?" I offer, and she turns to look at me.

"Sure," she grins, and I get up. I walk to stand beside her and she shows me what she needs me to do. I start preparing the chicken and she tells me what to put on it, her hands cutting up vegetables to put into the sauce.

"Here," she says, leaning closer to me to show me what to do. I know how to cook but I don't want to ruin her recipe or her process. Her hand covers mine and I glance at her as she does so, her eyes focused on preparing the chicken. Ava's long lashes press to her cheeks as she watches what she does and I find my attention completely on her.

Then she retracts and looks up to me, my heart racing in my chest. "What?" she flushes, making me more attentive to her.

"You're just really fucking beautiful Nicks," I breathe out, her lips parting into a beautiful smile. She leans up and I wrap my arm around her, careful not to touch her with my hand. Our lips press together and I move my lips with hers, her hand running against my chest.

"I'm so happy you're here," she whispers to me, my eyes looking down at her. There is no moment I can ever recall that feels as good as this one.

"Me too," I agree, kissing her once more. We turn back to cooking and I set the pan into the oven, standing back up to go to the sink. I wash my hands and grab the towel, Ava beginning to cook the pasta.

"When did you start cooking?" I ask, turning to face her. I lean my body against the counter and cross my arms, looking over at her.

"Um, probably when I was in middle school. My mom taught me a few things and then I just kept going. Then I just started making recipes from scratch and my father loved them. When I got to college I just kept doing that, just like I am doing right now," she says, and I smile.

"You're very good," I compliment, and she laughs.

"Why thank you. You're not too bad yourself," she compliments back, stirring the pasta in the pot.

I watch her, intrigued by everything she's doing. It may be so simple, but because it's Ava, I'm pulled in.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" she asks, and I nod. I reach for a bottle that's on the counter and she tells me where the opener is. My hand twists the cork out and I pull two wine glasses from the shelf. I pour two glasses and leave one on the counter as she continues to prepare the food.

"There haven't been any leads on who may be Maria. Emmett's social media doesn't show anything, and without a phone, we can't tell," I tell her, and she frowns.

"I've been thinking about it a lot actually. Today I was doing some research and I think I found possible models that work with the company," she says, and I nod.

"You think a model did this?" I ask, and she shrugs.

"Fashion's a very competitive business. With modeling, especially," she says, and I press my lips together. I know nothing about fashion, but she's known Annabella for a while. Perhaps Annabella has told her things.

"Maybe Annabella would know of a Maria," I suggest, and she turns to look at me.

"You make a great point. I just don't know how well she is after everything, but she may have records at work," she suggests, her lower lip then taken between her teeth.

"Stop it," I draw out my words, her eyes widening. Then she releases her lip and smiles, shaking her head and turning back to the stove.

"Okay the chicken's ready if you want to take it from the oven. I'll plate the pasta," she tells me, turning to set the pasta on the plates. I take the chicken from the oven after grabbing a rag, setting it on top of the stove. My hand takes the tongs and I set a piece on each of the plates, Ava grabbing hers. I take hold of mine and carry my glass of wine to the table, Ava sitting beside me.