Chapter 74 There's No Place I Haven't Seen
Scarlett felt not only shocked but also shy about Ambrose's request; he said it so casually.
She spun away from him, her refusal losing steam with every syllable.
"I already told you—now's not the time."
His hand landed on her shoulder, firm enough to turn her back around. Face to face now, his expression had gone all serious. "The divorce papers are signed. What part of that isn't the right time?"
Okay, so his logic was bulletproof. But that didn't mean she was ready to jump into something new—not with her head still spinning from the implosion of her marriage. She needed to be straight with him.
"I just got divorced. I'm not racing into another relationship. I don't have the headspace for this."
Ambrose's jaw tightened. Scarlett caught the shift in his expression and backpedaled, trying to soften the blow. "Besides, if word gets out, it'll trash your reputation."
"I don't give a damn about that." His tone was flat, dismissive. Ambrose Sterling made his own rules—society's outdated expectations had never applied to him.
Scarlett's voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Well, I care."
The words hung between them. She pulled free from his grip and headed for the bathroom, pajamas clutched against her chest. Ambrose stayed rooted in place, watching her retreating form, turning her words over in his mind.
She cared? About his reputation?
That thought got him moving. He followed her, leaning against the bathroom doorframe as she set down her clothes.
"You're worried about me?"
Scarlett glanced back to find him propped against the doorway, that penetrating gaze locked on her, his handsome face lit up with something dangerously close to delight.
Ugh, men. Of course, he'd make it about himself—she was worried about her own reputation, thank you very much. But starting a fight right now? Not worth it. Subject change, stat.
"Why don't you go talk to Hayden? I need to shower."
Ambrose didn't budge. His hands slid into his pockets, and that cocky look swept over her like a physical touch. "What, suddenly shy? Pretty sure I've seen everything already."
Heat flooded Scarlett's face. She stood there, speechless, looking like some Victorian heroine who'd just been propositioned.
Ambrose's grin turned wicked. "I could help you out—you know, like I did that night."
Oh, hell no. The more she protested, the more he enjoyed himself. Scarlett marched right up to him, and just as that smug smile reached peak satisfaction—
SLAM.
She shut the bathroom door square in his face.
Ambrose stared at the door, close enough to kiss. No anger, though. Just a slow shake of his head and a touch to his nose before he turned to find Hayden.
Inside, Scarlett sagged against the door at the sound of his footsteps fading. Finally. She could breathe again.
When she emerged, towel-drying her hair, Yara was perched on her bed like a little queen, patting the mattress with both hands.
"Mommy! I wanna sleep with you tonight!"
That adorable face was impossible to refuse. "Okay, sweetheart. Tonight we'll sleep together."
Perfect. This also solved her Ambrose problem—no way he'd try anything with the kids around.
Yara's squeal of delight nearly pierced eardrums. She rolled across the bed, giggling like this was the best news ever.
As Scarlett blow-dried her hair, Yara stayed glued to her side, practically vibrating with cuteness. When the hairdryer finally clicked off, Scarlett scooped her up.
"What's gotten into you tonight? You're being extra clingy."
"Mommy, those flowers—they're for me, right?" Yara had clearly been obsessing over Ambrose's bouquet all evening. Hence, the exceptional behavior.
Scarlett smoothed down her daughter's hair, smiling. "Yes, baby. They're all yours."
More hand-clapping. But before Yara could launch into celebration mode, someone knocked.
"Come in," Scarlett called.
The door swung open to reveal Hayden.
"Hayden! You wanna sleep with us too?" Yara's voice went all syrupy-sweet.
He approached the bed, looking to Scarlett for permission. "Can I?"
"Of course you can." Scarlett ruffled his hair as he climbed up and settled into his usual spot.
Yara immediately scooted over, whispering conspiratorially with her brother. Scarlett left them to it, moving around the room to dim the lights—the faster they crashed, the better.
That's when she spotted him.
Ambrose, lurking in the doorway, his expression dark as he took in the scene: two kids occupying prime real estate in what he clearly thought should be his bed.
Scarlett slipped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind her.
"You should go."
His stare could've melted steel. "You set this up on purpose."
Scarlett was done explaining herself. "Believe whatever you want."
He closed the distance in one stride, caging her against the wall, his face buried in the curve of her neck. A deep inhale, like he was memorizing her scent. "Fine. Guest room, it is."
Her eyes went wide. "No—just... just deal with it for one night."
"I haven't slept properly in days." Oh, so now they were playing the pity card? "You can't let me have one decent night's sleep?"
Scarlett had never imagined Ambrose Sterling would stoop to begging for sex. Every day with this man revealed a new level of shamelessness.
Her moment of stunned silence was all he needed. He swept her up—actually lifted her off her feet—and started for the guest room. Scarlett squirmed, smacking his shoulder. "Ambrose, don't you dare—"
He deposited her on the guest bed, his weight pinning her down. "We already crossed that line. What's one more time?"
Those wide, pleading eyes locked on his. One last desperate play. "I don't want to tonight. And besides, this whole situation is... it's messy."
That stopped him. He went still, studying her face for several seconds. "What's messy about it? Two single people, consenting adults. If the label bothers you that much, fine—we're dating. Problem solved."
"I told you, I'm not ready for a new relationship."
Frustration flickered across his features. But then he caught sight of those doe eyes, still pleading, and the fight drained out of him. His forehead dropped to her chest with a muffled groan.
"You're killing me here."
He pushed himself up and headed for the door. But halfway there, he pivoted—stalked back to the bed where Scarlett had just started to sit up—and crushed his mouth to hers.
The kiss went on forever. Deep, desperate, punishing. When he finally released her, they were both gasping.
If he couldn't have everything, he'd take this.
Ambrose did leave. Eventually. But his body was still on fire as he sat in his car, engine idling, waiting for the worst of it to pass.
When he could think semi-clearly again, he pulled out his phone.
"Feel like drinking?" he asked when Felix picked up.
"On a night like this? And you're calling me instead of spending it with Ms. Mellon?" Felix's voice carried a shit-eating grin. "Wait—you sound sexually frustrated. What happened?"
Ambrose's laugh was sharp, almost bitter. "You wouldn't understand. You're single."
"Oh, screw you and your humble-bragging."
"Usual place. Twenty minutes."
"Fine. I'll grab Ruben."
And just like that, the three of them ended up at Evergreen Club. Felix pounced the second Ambrose walked in.
"So are Scarlett's kids yours or not?"