Everything I Dreamed (Everhope Road #2)

25. Hailey

25

HAILEY

C arter’s stare slices through Oliver and me when he steps through the door and storms right to the living room.

Oliver flashes his eyes at me and tips his head in the direction of the living room, and we walk together toward the dreaded conversation.

Carter is already sitting on the couch rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sits up straight. Oliver and I choose to remain standing, with Oliver leaning against the fireplace that I’m not sure that he ever uses.

My hands are on my hips, and I give him a warning with my eyes. “Are we going to have a conversation like real adults or am I going to be walking right out of here until you finish your timeout and say sorry?”

“Sorry? Are you kidding me? You both decided to uproot your lives due to a little thing that most people call marriage,” Carter answers, and we can all see and hear that he is still tense.

I shouldn’t be so invested in this conversation. It’s between them, but it’s about Oliver and me. I won’t abandon my husband.

Oliver rubs his head in aggravation from the direction of this conversation. “You make it sound like a game.”

“And? So how is this going to work? Because now that the charade is out in the open then you can get a divorce. Are you going to divorce?” Carter questions.

I try to grasp where he is coming from. We expected Liam to lose it, but in the end, it’s Carter. “I think we’re going to be fine. We wasted time, and we won’t waste any more trying to prove to you that we’re not crazy. I mean, we’re a little crazy, but that’s beside the point.” I try to make him smile, but all I get is his face relaxing a smidgen.

I roll my eyes and go to flop on the couch opposite Carter. “If it calms you, I’m moving in here and we are staying married. I love Oliver.”

“And I love Hailey.”

My gaze lifts to Oliver and a small smile of agreement appears on my lips. I’m his.

Oliver propels himself away from the mantle and comes to sit on the arm of the sofa, placing his hand firmly on my shoulder. “We are clear about what we want. A long-lasting marriage,” Oliver reiterates.

“Look at you two forming a united front.” I can’t assess Carter’s level of cynicism.

Carter’s nostrils flare, but he says nothing. Carter grows silent and looks forward, and it seems to be in deliberation.

Oliver squeezes my shoulder as he is familiar with my brother’s communication style.

“This is promising,” Oliver quietly mutters to me.

The long silence that overcomes all of us is unnerving.

“This isn’t about us, it’s about Rosie.” The words fall out of Oliver’s mouth in a string of words as though he was waiting for a balloon to pop.

Yikes. I roll my lips in, recognizing this is confronting.

Carter snaps his sight to Oliver.

“You know he’s right,” I add, though I’m not sure I should get involved.

“I… I just want my brother to have what I didn’t.”

Oliver scratches his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I kind of gathered in your not-so-subtle explanation of marriage that everyone heard.”

“Is it so crazy that I don’t want my brother to make mistakes or experience misery?” Carter justifies.

Oliver’s jaw slides to the right as he forms his words. “It isn’t crazy at all. And I’m sorry that this must be… bringing up memories.”

“Fuck memories. It’s letting something go so easily.”

“As in Rosie?” I voice my theory, slightly afraid that I’m saying her name. He’s clearly uncomfortable.

Carter doesn’t answer, and instead, Oliver takes the lead. “I won’t let go of Hailey, I promise.”

He huffs a breath and rolls one shoulder back before muttering a sound. “Fine.” He’s barely audible.

“Fine?” Oliver checks.

Carter cracks his neck in discomfort. “Yes. Fine.”

“Is it because you actually want us together and can accept that we’re married, or because you just want to end this conversation?” I replay our events and pry into his mind.

Carter stands abruptly with fists hanging at his sides. “Yes. Okay. Fine. This is what it is. My brother can be happy and do things the right way.”

Oliver stands to align with his brother. “You’ve always done what you think is the right way. Sometimes we figure things out differently. And this is Hailey and me and our way.”

Carter looks between us both. “I just want you both to be happy.”

“We know,” I assure him.

I’m beginning to think that I need to find a blind date for him so he can attempt to move on, but I can tell that he is nowhere near ready to let go of his ex-wife.

“We’re happy,” Oliver affirms.

Carter gives Oliver a look that only they seem to understand, a sort of code. “I expect nothing less than everything from you when it comes to your wife. Just be a good husband.”

“You don’t need to say it,” Oliver firmly agrees.

Carter lets out a deep sigh. “Good.”

“Good? Or good you’ll be fine at the next family BBQ?”

“Funny. I said good, so good is good.”

Oliver tries to suppress his smile.

Carter bows his head slightly in my direction. “Well, welcome to the family.”

“Thanks, brother-in-law.”

He flutters his eyes as his ears adjust to the title. Carter looks between us. “Now that your little secret is out in the open then put on your damn wedding rings,” he reprimands Oliver before he walks on out, bumping Oliver’s shoulder in the process before Oliver collapses onto the couch.

I would say the conversation ended on a solid note which is why I beam a smile at Oliver and move to sit on his lap.

“He is right about the rings. I’ll be changing that as soon as we’re upstairs,” he promises.

Giving him a quick kiss, I feel an overpowering urge to lock ourselves upstairs for a while. “That’s a start. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re available.”

“Ready to do this long-haul marriage thing with me?”

I bop his nose with my finger. “I am.”

My smile dims a little. “I hope Carter can move on.”

Oliver licks his lips while he contemplates. “I would love it if he was a little less grumpy. But he hasn’t been the same since Rosie left, and that was two years ago.”

“He doesn’t want us to have the same ending, and we won’t.”

“Come on, Wifey. We have rings to slide onto fingers right before I slide into you.”

He tips his lips up to kiss me. I must still taste of him from earlier when his mouth ravished me. With no protest from me, he stands, and we begin to shuffle our way to the stairs. Circling and stumbling because we are too occupied with our kisses and roaming hands.

Luckily, the map to his bedroom is set in stone in our heads.

Sitting on the middle of the bed, already down to my bra and panties since we lost all my other clothes at the top of the stairs—his shirt, too, as we were impatient to reach the bedroom—I watch Oliver dive his hand into his jeans pocket and pull out his ring before discarding his pants.

“You always had it in your pocket?” I wonder.

He tosses himself onto the bed and lies on his side. “Unconsciously, but yeah.”

I fumble with the clasp of my necklace but manage and allow the ring to slide off the chain. “It needs a new home.” I hold up my fingers, and he smirks with complete gratification.

He steals the ring that I’m holding up in my other hand and ceremoniously slides it onto my ring finger. “That’s better.”

Holding my palm out, he places his own ring into my palm. Grabbing his hand, I slip it onto his finger. “That’s better,” I echo.

His thumb rises and caresses my bottom lip then rides up to my cheek. “I love you.”

I take hold of his thumb and kiss it. “I love you, too.”

That smug smirk of his appears because he has a hold on me. Not figurately but inside of me.

Slowly, he guides me back until I’m lying flat, and his body encases my own. His warmth showering me and our bodies molding.

“Hmm, what shall we do to celebrate?” His heavy breath cascades down my neck before returning to that spot just below my ear. It tickles but it’s sensual and has an effect on my pussy.

The feeling of his cock under his boxer briefs pressing against my thigh naturally causes my body to curve into him.

“I could think of a few things,” I rasp when his fingers hunt down my nipple to rub.

“Then come lie on top of me,” he directs.

My body is on fire because I always listen when he commands. He leads us, and I don’t mind one bit.

We shift and remove all remaining clothing before I straddle him, making a point to rub my slick pussy against his cock in the process. We don’t waste a second, and I take hold of him to align him, and I slowly clench down, pulling a moan from both of us.

His hand rests on my hip and his other thumb begins to play with my clit as I find a rhythm on top of him. I drive myself crazy because I can circle around his length to find a rhythm, and occasionally his strong hands lift me slightly, to then plunge me back down on top of him. My entire pussy envelopes him. No matter the position he always fills me up and fits just right.

“That’s it, beautiful. Ride me. Take what you want,” he whispers.

I slow down for a second, and he brings his elbows to the mattress and holds his forearms up straight to the ceiling, offering me his hands. I interlace our fingers, and I continue on my quest to make us come.

My head falls back and my eyes close of their own accord. Bouncing on top of him, my tits move, and I coo every other breath. My hair is behind my shoulders but feathering my skin with every thrust.

Slowly my head rolls until my sight lands on our hands. Interwoven with rings.

It’s all heavenly, overwhelming, and I fall forward, keeping Oliver inside me. Our stomachs press together, and I tuck my head into the crook of his neck as he takes over my body, bucking up into me, letting a grunt release as he speeds up and mercilessly thrusts up into me. But then he slows, and we whisper those three words, over and over as our lips and gazes orbit around a gravitating force that can only be justified by our souls murmuring hello.

I could lie like this forever, and now I get a chance to.

My attempt to cook this vodka pasta sauce I saw on social media is failing. I wince when I hold up the vodka bottle to see I used way more alcohol than I should’ve, and when I bring the wooden spoon to my tongue darting out for a taste, I gag. Even with the sliding doors open off the kitchen to the beautiful evening, the smell doesn’t seem to escape.

Ugh. This isn’t cool.

Oliver should be home any moment from work, and I’ve failed at the housewife thing. It’s only been three days since everything unraveled. Still, I’m going to throw myself into the deep end.

Picking up my phone resting on the counter that has a dot of tomato sauce on the screen, I swipe to find what takeout we could do. I’ll have to go pick it up unless we order pizza, and because I’m tired from dealing with pre-teen angst today, then pizza it is.

I hear the garage door open, but I focus on the pizza choices on the website.

“What the— It almost smells like a frat party in here.” Oliver enters the kitchen carrying a bag, amused but wary as he approaches the stove.

“I was trying to make a sauce with vodka but got a little overzealous, and I know most alcohol burns away when cooking, but I can’t get over the smell. Pizza it is.”

He chuckles then holds up a bag. “I’m way ahead of you. Got Chinese food on my way back from Lake Spark.”

I pout at him, and I dodge his attempt at a kiss. “But you knew I was going to try and cook.”

He remains mute, and for a second, I wonder if I should be disappointed for his lack in faith in my cooking abilities, but then… “Thank the heavens because I suck at cooking.”

“You always did.” He supports my claim.

He sets the bag on the counter, and I feel we can keep it casual and just eat at the island. Oliver sneaks in to kiss my cheek. Virtuous but just as deadly as if he’d twisted my tongue with his.

“One more thing. Check the other bag.”

I see that the two bags are different colors. The brown bag doesn’t seem familiar or at least not of any place I know. I’m curious, and I get a peek at the contents but my brows furrow in confusion as I pull out a hammer.

“What’s this?”

“A hammer.” He stands behind me, knitting his arms around me to hold me flush to his body.

“I can see that.” My lips thin, but I want to smile.

“When you get the keys for the preschool you need to do a lot of renovations. You should be the one to knock the first brick down. I remember how much you love those home shows.”

I’m beaming, as it’s sweet. “You are full of surprises.”

“I just want to make sure you have everything you dream of.”

I turn in his embrace and chain my arms around his neck. “My husband, don’t you know?”

“Know what?” He stares at my mouth then travels back to my eyes, and his gaze gleams with desire and strong conviction for the way he feels for me.

“A preschool is nice, but all I need is you to have everything I dreamed come true.”

He licks his lips as his cheeks rise from his signature smirk. “We share the same sentiment.”

We meet halfway for a kiss that keeps us on earth because we won’t let go of one another but has every sensitive spot within me floating.

The sound of a chime draws our attention to the wind chimes from the road trip that Oliver kept. One for him and one for me.

“It seems our dreams arrived with the wind.” The back of his knuckles lightly rub against my cheek.

I sputter a laugh. “That was cheesy, but I’ll let it go.”

“Fine, the chime is sending the message that this time next year, if we feel like it, maybe we should do a vow renewal or something. A real wedding kind of thing.” He said it so matter of fact and that makes it better because it’s not a big production.

My chin juts out from the unexpected. “Really?”

He shrugs as though it’s nothing to do something to make me happy. “Yeah. I believe you probably have a list of all the details for a wedding with Oliver since you had a crush on me for so long. Maybe you even doodled little hearts next to my name too.”

I playfully shove his shoulder. “Funny. And why do you keep asking me major questions in your kitchen?”

“Because things tumble out of my mouth around you.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Not at all. It’s just your effect on me. But answer before the food gets cold.”

I quirk my lips up and pretend to think over his question. “Hmm… yes.” My face erupts into absolute elation.

“Oh good, my wife listens to her husband,” he deadpans before grinning ear to ear and kissing me.

I wasn’t lying when I told him that everything I dreamed is only complete if he is part of it, and I have that all now. But a semi-wedding? Well, that’s just the icing on the cake.