Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
SHEA
“Are you sure you’re up for this?”
As we head down the path from the driveway to the entrance of the Blade and Arrow building, Oliver glances down at me with concern. “I told Maya it might be too soon,” he continues, “so if you want to go home, that’s okay.”
Although I’ve reassured him I’m fine at least half-a-dozen times so far today, I can hardly blame Oliver for being worried. Considering I was a nervous wreck at our meeting here just two days ago, even I was a little ambivalent to say yes to Maya’s invitation for dinner.
When Oliver shared the invitation with me yesterday, he couched it by saying, “It’s just an idea, Shea. But it’s absolutely fine if you’re not ready. We can schedule dinner with Maya and Cole another night. They’ll understand.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little uneasy about it. Partly because I can’t help associating this place with the stressful stuff I had to talk about, but also because the place itself is a little imposing—this enormous brick building with black metal fencing that rivals what you’d see at a government facility, complete with dozens of cameras and sensors all along the top.
In normal circumstances, something like this wouldn’t bother me at all. When we were together before, Oliver was able to get me in to see part of the CIA headquarters and I didn’t think it was the least bit intimidating. I thought it was cool. Impressive. And definitely not scary.
But in my defense, I’ve been a bit on edge the last couple of weeks, so it doesn’t take quite as much to rattle my nerves.
It also might have something to do with spending time with Maya.
Despite Oliver’s reassurances, I still can’t help worrying that she’s harboring resentment towards me. That she doesn’t approve of Oliver being with me again. And honestly, I understand. If it was Niall who’d been dumped unceremoniously without explanation, I’d be pretty pissed at his ex, too.
Not that he would. Jade and Niall are meant for each other. But in the hypothetical situation, I’d be worried about Niall getting hurt again.
Which is why I said yes to dinner tonight. I want to reassure Maya that I’m serious about Oliver. That I care about him deeply and have no intention of hurting him. And I can’t very well do that if I hide out at Oliver’s house, even if he’d be completely okay with it.
Will I tell Maya the truth about what happened back then? Eventually, I will. As for tonight? I guess I’ll have to see how the evening goes.
But for now, I want Oliver to have a nice time with his sister and brother-in-law without worrying about bringing me here. I want him to see that I can get along with Maya like I used to—in the old days, whenever she’d come to visit or we’d visit her, we all had a great time. I really liked Maya, and I think she liked me.
Until I broke Oliver’s heart, that is. Now, I’m not so sure.
In the past, I’d swallow back my concerns and insist I wasn’t nervous at all. But this time around, I’m really working on expressing myself better, so I squeeze Oliver’s hand as I reply, “I’m a little nervous. But it’s manageable. And I’m really looking forward to this. Spending time with Maya. Getting to know Cole better. And meeting Clara, finally.”
He holds my gaze for a moment. Then he releases my hand to wrap his arm around me, gently tugging me into his side. “I understand being nervous. But I promise, Maya isn’t angry with you. And Cole… you met him. He’s a great guy. I couldn’t pick a better man to be with my sister.”
“I know they are. And I’m sure I’ll be fine once we’re there, talking, eating…” Pausing, I give him a bright smile. “Plus, I’m really excited to see Clara in person. She just turned one, right?”
“Yeah.” Affection softens his gaze. “Two months ago. But she’s so smart, you’d think she’s older. She knows tons of words, and she’s already running all over the place, driving Maya and Cole crazy.”
Aww . Hearing Oliver talk about his niece like that makes me all gooey inside.
“I can’t wait to see her,” I reply. “From the pictures, she looks just like Maya.”
“She does.” Oliver presses the intercom by the back door and waves at the security camera. “And they both have my mom’s nose. Which is pretty cool.” He sobers. “I wish my parents could have met Clara.”
“But they’re watching over her.” Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I tell him the same thing I told Niall when he shared his regret that our parents would never get to see his child. “That’s what I think. That my parents are still here, keeping an eye on things. They’re not missing out. They get to see everything.”
“Shea.” Emotion thickens his voice. “I love that.”
Then he frames my face with his hands and brushes a soft kiss across my lips. When he pulls away, there’s this look in his eyes—something deeper than desire or friendship or affection, something I used to see there all those years ago.
Maybe he still loves me, too.
I haven’t said it, not when things are still so new. But it’s there. This feeling in my heart that’s almost too big to contain. This certainty that Oliver is the one .
“Hey, guys!” The door swings open to reveal a beaming Maya. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
She hugs Oliver first, squeezing him hard enough that his back cracks. He lets out a little oof before laughing. “Shrimp. Have you been working out?”
“Hardly.” She grins at him. “It’s all from lifting Clara. She’s getting heavy!”
Then she turns to me and darts forward, giving me a hug as well. Once she steps back, she says earnestly, “Shea. I’m extra glad you’re here. Oliver is fine and all—” She makes a little face at him. “But you’re the reason I asked about dinner.”
“Oh.” My cheeks warm. “Well, thanks for inviting me. I’m really glad to be here, too.”
Maya grabs my hand and tugs me away from Oliver. “Now, first thing. I’ll take you on a tour so you can get your bearings.” She pauses, her smile fading to something more serious. “I remember how it was for me. After… everything. I was nervous going to new places, but it helped to know where everything was. The exits. What kind of security there was.”
The smile I give her is genuine. “Thanks. That would make me feel better.”
And after a ten-minute tour of the property, complete with a full explanation of the security system, I am feeling better. Definitely less intimidated than the first time I was here, helped by the cheerful greetings from Nora and Jackson when we ran into them in the gym.
Another thing that helped was how darn nice Maya was. As she towed me around the large building, she kept up a steady chatter about everyone who lived there, and she managed to slip in some funny stories about Oliver, too. Stories I hadn’t heard before, like how he tried to install his own home-made security system at their childhood home out of fishing line and glue.
“My poor dad tripped right over the fishing line strung across the front doorway,” she recalled with a laugh. “Coming home from work, tired, and he had pizza in his hands. It went all over.”
“Well,” Oliver humphed, but his lips are twitching. “That should show that my system worked.”
“It worked alright,” Maya retorted. “Our pizza ended up all over the floor.”
So, thanks to Maya, by the time we make it to her apartment, I’m giggling, Oliver has a huge smile, and most of the butterflies in my stomach have settled. I even get a pang of hunger when we walk inside and the savory scent of garlic and cheese hits me.
Oliver takes a deep inhale. “That smells great. What are you making?”
As Maya closes the door behind us, she says, “Nothing fancy, just pasta with a Bolognese sauce and garlic bread with cheese. Plus a salad to be healthy.”
“It smells amazing,” I agree. “Nothing I make smells that good.”
“Oh, it’s an easy recipe. I’ll give it to you. My best friend Scarlett is the one who gave it to me. She’s an incredible cook. I’m just good at following instructions.”
“That’s not true.” Cole walks into the living room with Clara in his arms. “You’re a great cook.” Then he turns his attention to me and Oliver. “Hey, guys. Glad you could make it. And—” He chuckles. “I’m relieved I’ll actually get to eat. I’m starving.”
Clara—who is even cuter in person—starts to squirm, waving her arms and legs in an attempt to get down. “Unc Ol. Unc Ol.”
Oh. How freaking cute is that?
Oliver drops to his knees and holds out his arms. “Come here, little squirt.”
The second Cole puts her down, she practically sprints to her uncle and launches herself into his arms. He picks her up and stands, spinning her around before kissing her cheeks. “Squirt, have you grown since I saw you?”
And there go my ovaries, jumping to attention.
It was a vague thought when we were together before, but something that was in the distant future. Now? Seeing Oliver holding Clara and looking so sweet and handsome I can barely stand it? It doesn’t feel like such a distant idea after all.
“Shea.” Maya looks at me. “I was wondering if you’d help me for a minute? In the kitchen? If you don’t mind?”
My stomach lurches.
There it is. The inquisition.
“Of course,” I reply brightly. At Oliver’s concerned glance, I give him a reassuring smile. “I’d love to.”
Mostly.
But for the first few minutes in the kitchen, the conversation is casual. Easy. Maya asks me about my job, and my house in White Plains, and how excited I must be to have my best friend married to my brother. “Not that I ever wanted Scarlett to marry Oliver,” she adds quickly. “He thinks of her as a little sister. But it must be nice, though.”
I finish cutting the loaf of Italian bread before I reply, “Yeah, it is. Because now she’s my sister for real. And she makes Niall so happy. I always thought they should be together, but they were both too stubborn to let it happen. And then they had a fight…”
About me.
Jade and Niall didn’t talk for years because of me and my secret.
Maya sets her glass of wine on the counter. Her forehead wrinkles. “Are you okay?”
I could gloss over this. Avoid the topic completely.
But I want things to be right between me and Maya. And I don’t know if she’ll ever trust me not to hurt Oliver again if she doesn’t know everything.
So I take a deep breath and turn to face her. “I want to tell you about the time Oliver and I broke up.”
“You don’t have to, Shea. It’s none of my business.”
“It is, partly. Because he’s your brother. And I want you to know… I wasn’t making good choices back then. Breaking up with Oliver, it was the worst decision I ever made.”
Her tone gentles. “But you’re working it out. And everyone makes decisions they regret later. Trust me.”
“True.” I reach for my own glass of wine and take a sip for liquid courage. “But back then… I wasn’t in a good place. I… I had an eating disorder. It got really bad during the last year we were together. He was away so much, it was easy to hide it. So he never knew how sick I got.”
“Oh, Shea.” Empathy darkens her gaze. “I’m so sorry.”
“It got out of control,” I continue. “And I didn’t want anyone to know. Not Niall, or Jade, or Oliver. I was ashamed. Embarrassed. It’s not an excuse, but I felt like a failure. And I looked so awful, just… terrible, really. At first, I didn’t want to worry Oliver. And later, I couldn’t bear for him to know what I did to myself. So… I broke up with him. I never explained. Never saw him even when he asked.”
Sniffing against the prickles in my nose, I add, “By the time I realized how badly I’d screwed everything up, it was months later. Oliver was angry with me, for good reason. I just thought… it was too late. That I’d lost my chance. That I’d have to deal with the consequences of what I did.”
“Shea.” Maya moves towards me and pulls me into a hug. “I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been. But it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You know that, right?”
“Yes.” Most of the time. “Now I do.”
“But then you saw him at the Hop-less Horseman.”
“Yeah. I was scared when I heard he was coming. All I could think about was how he must have resented me. But he was so kind, and there was just… this… spark. That’s when I knew I had to try. See if there was a chance.”
A smile curves her lips. “Well, from my perspective, it looks like there’s more than a chance.” Then her voice dips conspiratorially. “There hasn’t been anyone else, Shea. For Oliver, I mean. Not since you. And as his sister, I can say with confidence, I’ve never seen him happier than when you’re together.”
“So you’re not angry with me for hurting him?”
Several seconds pass, long enough for a small panic to start inside me, my mind jumping to the worst.
“No, Shea.” Maya hugs me again. “I wasn’t angry before. And I’m not now.” She pauses. “Sometimes relationships need to go through tough times to make them stronger. Maybe before wasn’t the right time for you two, but now it is.”
A bubble of happiness expands inside my chest. “That’s what I think, too.”
“So, how did you think dinner went?”
Oliver punches in the last number to alarm the security system, waiting for the little beep to indicate it’s armed before turning to look at me. “I think it went really well.” His gaze sweeps my face appraisingly. “But what about you? Did you enjoy it?”
“I really did.”
“Good.” With a soft smile, he takes my hand as we walk into the living room, doing that little thumb-rubbing thing across my palm that I absolutely love. “I know you were nervous. Did it get better?”
“Yes. Definitely.” I smile back at him. “The tour helped for sure. It’s a really cool place now that I’ve seen everything. With the gym and the shooting range and the safe rooms, plus that awesome patio out back.”
Oliver sits on the couch and pulls me onto his lap. “Just wait until the next big barbecue. They’ll probably have one for the Fourth of July. Finn loves to set off fireworks, and since he trained with explosives in the Army, he does some great ones.”
I love how Oliver talks like it’s a given we’ll still be together by then. Not that I have any plans to the contrary, but still. It’s nice. Reassuring.
“That reminds me, talking about events.” Absently, he combs his fingers through my hair, sending little tingles of electricity through my body. “Next weekend, there’s a big fundraiser for the first responders of Sleepy Hollow. It benefits the fire department, the ambulance corps, and the police department. I was thinking you might like to go.”
“What kind of fundraiser? Is it safe?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Definitely. It’s being held at my friend Cash’s house, he volunteers for the fire department with Ian and Grant.” A beat, and then, “Well, it’s more like a mansion, really. But he has tons of security. Blade and Arrow installed it, and Cash had more added after he got together with his wife, Ari. Plus, some of the B and A guys will be there, along with at least half the police department. So I’d say it’s about as safe as it can get.”
“Okay. That sounds fun. Do I need to dress up?”
“I think it might be formal-ish. So a dress would work.” His voice takes on a hopeful note. “Maybe that silver one I saw in the closet?”
“What silver one?” I know exactly which one, but I love hearing Oliver’s descriptions of them.
“You know. The shimmery one. With the little tassels.”
I smother a laugh. “You mean fringe? Tassels makes it sound like curtains. Or a lampshade.”
“Fringe, then.” He slants his mouth across mine, teasing my lips open and dipping inside. As we kiss, he cups my breast, plumping it in his hand. His thumb flicks across my nipple, drawing it to a taut peak. When we pause to take a breath, he adds, “The sexy dress, Shea. The one I’ve been imagining you in since I saw it.”
Oh.
And that’s why I keep buying dresses. Even the crappy experience with the fake delivery guy hasn’t deterred me from it. Seeing Oliver’s appreciative gaze every time I wear one, feeling his hand on my bare thigh whenever he gets a chance, remembering the times we’d come home and he’d push my skirt up before we even got to the bedroom, taking me against the wall or on the couch or?—
“Shea.” It’s rough. Needy.
“What?”
“Remember when I said I wanted to make sure you were ready?”
My breath catches. Heat coils in my belly. “Yes. And then you thought I was too tired last night.”
“You fell asleep on the couch. I wasn’t about to wake you up.”
“Well.” I pout at him. “You could have.”
Oliver gives me a mock-stern look. “Not when you don’t get enough sleep as is.” A pause, and then, “But. What about now? How are you feeling?”
“Good.” Turning, I straddle his lap, notching myself at his arousal already straining through his pants. With a little wiggle, I add, “Great. Fantastic. Fully awake.”
Desire darkens his eyes. “Did you know that special massage oil came?”
“It did?” An ache pulses at my core. “The edible stuff?”
“Yes.” A corner of his mouth lifts. “And I might have picked up champagne and strawberries on the way home.”
“Oll.” I hop off his lap and give him a mock-stern look. “When were you planning to tell me?”
“Right now. Are you interested in testing out the oil? And maybe having some champagne?”
“Yes. Please.” Grabbing his hand, I start dragging Oliver towards the bedroom. When he pulls against me, I almost growl in frustration. “Why are you stopping?”
“Because, my impatient Shea—” Cupping my cheek, he kisses me again. “I have to actually get the stuff. It’s not all in the bedroom.”
“I’m not impatient,” I retort. “I’m just…”
“Yes?” He draws out the word.
“Fine. I’m impatient. It’s been a long time, Oll. And I’ve missed being with you. A lot. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.”
The cocky smile on his face dissolves, turning to something softer. “I’ve missed making love to you, too.” A pause, and then, “Why don’t you go in the bedroom and get ready? And I’ll get everything together.”
“Yes.” It’s all I can do not to sprint into the guest room to change. Instead, I manage a leisurely jog while Oliver chuckles behind me.
Once I get into the bedroom, I peel off my clothes and hurry to the dresser, trying to figure out which of my new lingerie sets to wear. Because yes, I may have done a little shopping for those, too.
Before Oliver, I never cared much about lingerie or looking sexy. And in the few short relationships I had before him, I never got that excited about sex, either. It was just… okay. Pleasant, at best.
But with Oliver? It’s something else entirely.
That’s one of the reasons I’m so eager for this—the magic that seems to take over when we come together, and the sensations I’ve never felt except with him.
And then there’s the intimacy of it, that moment when we’re joined and it feels like we’re only two people in the world. When the only thing that matters is me and him.
I missed it. Terribly. And now that it’s about to happen again… Yeah. I’m pretty darn excited about it.
“Shea.” Spinning around, I find Oliver standing in the doorway, champagne in one hand and a small bottle in the other, a bowl of strawberries tucked under his arm. His face brightens. “I could get used to this .”
Oh. Crap. The lingerie.
Which I’m not wearing, because I got distracted thinking about making love to Oliver.
So instead, I’m just standing in front of the dresser, naked.
Not wearing any of the cute slash sexy lingerie sets I bought in anticipation of this moment.
“I was going to put on one of these,” I reply, gesturing at the open dresser drawer. “But I got distracted.”
Oliver doesn’t even look at the contents of the drawer. His gaze is glued to me instead. “Well.” He coughs. “I think you look just fine like this.”
Then he walks into the room and sets everything on the bedside table before walking over to me.
Not walking, really. More like stalks. Prowls.
His features are hard. Not from anger, but desire. Hunger. Need.
“Shea.” His hands come to my waist, big and warm and just the slightest bit rough. “You look… gorgeous. No. More than that. Breathtaking. Stunning. I just… I thought I remembered. Sometimes I’d dream about you. But having you in front of me, like this… it’s beyond anything I dreamed.”
“Oll.” My heart flutters. Where he touches me, my skin feels electrified. Heat pulses at my core. “I’ve dreamed of you, too.”
And I have. Many, many times. Of Oliver like this, dressed in his usual casual outfit of jeans and a button-down shirt rolled up to display his very sexy arms. And of Oliver without any of it, gloriously naked with all his muscles on display. I’ve dreamed about his golden skin dusted with dark hair, trailing down his stomach and below his waist, drawing my gaze to his arousal, thick and velvety smooth and ready for me.
Most often, I would think about the way he used to look at me, like I was this unexpected gift he’d been given, and he couldn’t believe his luck.
But really, I’m the lucky one. Because against all odds, I have him back.
Oliver stares at me, his gaze moving across my body. “I don’t even know where to start first.”
“Well, you could start by taking off your clothes,” I offer. “Then we’re both naked.”
His lips twitch. “That’s true.”
I reach for the button at his waistband and unfasten it, then draw the zipper down. My fingers graze his jutting arousal, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Shea.”
“Yes?” Next, I work on the buttons of his shirt, revealing his golden skin inch by inch. “Is this okay?”
“Of course.” His eyes flare as my fingers trail down to his waistband again. “It just… Shit, Shea. Feeling your hands on me again. It’s incredible.”
His hands come to my ass, gently squeezing as he pulls me closer to him.
Once his chest is exposed, I run my fingers across his stomach, tracing the lines of muscle. “Did you get an extra pack here?”
“An extra pack?”
“Yeah. I thought you had a six-pack. But this definitely looks like eight, now.”
A little smirk quirks his lips. “It might be eight. You should probably count again.”
But halfway through my recount, one hand comes between my legs and strokes along the growing dampness there.
My breath catches.
Oliver dips his head and takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Instinctively, my body arches towards him, wanting more.
And then.
Oh.
He lifts me up and carries me over to the bed.
Still suckling at my breast.
His arousal juts into my belly, hard and hot and insistent.
It’s so sexy I can barely breathe.
Oliver lays me onto the mattress and strips his clothes off even faster than I did.
Then he just stands there and looks at me while I do the same to him.
“Oll.” I reach my arms to him. “Come here.”
His gaze flickers to the nightstand. “The massage oil.”
“Grab it then. Hurry.”
The need to feel Oliver inside me is verging on pain. I’ve never wanted something more.
He picks up the bottle of oil and pauses. “Shit.”
“What?”
“The glasses. I forgot them. For the champagne.”
I sit up. “We can have the champagne later. The second time around. This time, I just want to feel you. I need you. I’m tired of waiting.”
Sinking onto the mattress beside me, he holds my gaze. Emotion works in his eyes. “I would wait for you forever.”
“But you don’t have to.”
As he slowly uncaps the oil, heat builds inside me. Throbs. I feel myself opening for him, slick and ready.
“Hey, Oll?”
Midway through pouring some of the oil into his palm, Oliver glances at me. “What, hun?”
“I was just thinking. What if we save the oil for the second time, too?”
“But I thought you wanted?—”
“I do. But I want you more. Just you. Inside me.” A touch of desperation strains my voice. “Please.”
He immediately sets the bottle aside. “Shea. Anything you want. Any time.”
“Then I want you.”
“Okay.” A smile curves his lips. “Then you have me.” A beat. “But I do have this oil.” Another beat. “And I would hate for it to go to waste.”
Then.
He smooths it over my breasts.
Moves over me.
Braces himself with those sexy arms. And that vein…
“I love that vein,” I blurt, no doubt making no sense at all.
Oliver looks at me with a bemused expression. “My vein?”
“The veins on your arms. They’re sexy. Don’t ask.”
He smirks. “Okay.”
Then his mouth comes to my breast. Licking. Suckling. Teasing my nipple with his tongue.
As my legs come apart of their own accord, he notches himself between them.
I take his hard length in my hand, guiding him forward.
Lifting his head from my breast, Oliver asks, “Are you sure you’re ready, Shea? I haven’t even?—”
“Yes.” Wrapping my legs around his hips, I thrust up, and he sinks inside me. At first, it’s tight, verging on painful, but after a moment, he’s a perfect fit.
“Shea.” Worry tinges his voice. “I was going to go slower. Did I hurt you?”
“No. You didn’t.” Rocking my hips, I let him settle in deeper. Pleasure courses through me, zips of electricity and heat and teases of ecstasy. “This is perfect.”
Bracing himself over me with one arm, he reaches down to find that sensitive bundle of nerves and rubs. Strokes. Caresses. Then he flicks at it, alternating between hard and soft, something else he remembers I love.
Oliver remembers everything.
So do I.
Like the way he likes it when I touch his nipples, or that spot at the nape of his neck. And the way he likes it when I tighten my inner walls around him, making him even harder.
And most of all, he loves when I keep my eyes open. So we can look at each other, seeing the feelings right there , on full display.
As our movements shift from slow to frenzied, pressure builds inside me, desperate to get out. My thighs tremble and my breath comes faster. My heart races.
His neck is strained as he moves inside me, holding his own pleasure back as he plunges deep with every thrust. Those magical fingers pluck at my swollen bud, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
“Oll,” I gasp. “I’m so close.”
“Shea.” His gaze holds mine. And he says the sexiest thing ever. “Come for me, love. I want to feel you come apart around me.”
Then he lifts my hips and sinks deep again, filling me even deeper than before. He hits that spot, the one I used to think was a myth, and?—
Oh.
This.
I fly over the edge. Not falling, but into the sky. Into space. Galaxies burst to life around me. Stars supernova.
My body goes rigid as the sensations surge through me, more incredible than I even remember.
As I convulse around Oliver, he lets out a rough shout and rockets right into space with me. Going impossibly harder, he pulses inside me, filling me with his heat.
And it’s just how I dreamed it would be. Us. Together again, experiencing the most beautiful thing in the world. In the universe, really.
Even as the aftershocks are still working through us, he rolls over so I’m draped across him. I tuck my head under his chin, my favorite spot, as his hand strokes down my back. Resting my hand over his heart, I trail my finger along the little scar he got on one of his jobs, something that terrified me at the time. But now I see it as proof of his bravery. His strength.
“Shea, I’m sorry.”
What?
My head jerks up, almost whacking him in the chin. “Why are you sorry? About this?”
“No. No . Not this. Never. I just meant, we didn’t use anything. I didn’t think?—”
Oh.
Phew.
“It’s okay.” I sag back against him. “I’m on something. And I haven’t… There hasn’t been anyone since you.”
His hand stills on my back. “Shea. There hasn’t been anyone for me, either.”
Unexpectedly, tears threaten. Bittersweet ones, for the time we lost. But also grateful ones for the chance we got back. “I missed you so much. Thank you?—”
“No, Shea.” His voice is thick. “Thank you for coming back to me.”