Tangled in Vows (Tangled & Torn #2)

23. Olivia

Chapter 23

Olivia

Why did you save me just to shatter me for good?

S hit, shit, shit.

I glare down at Stormy, who’s busy pretending she didn’t just make a bunch of noise. Holden and Archer probably think I was eavesdropping. Which I wasn’t, of course. Well, mostly.

After my phone call with Ian, I needed some time to gather my thoughts and composure. With every additional blow lately, it has taken me longer and longer to maintain my equilibrium. The result is a myriad of unwanted emotions and memories that keep bubbling to the surface.

To no surprise, loud footsteps hurry toward us, so I take a deep breath and brace for impact. Metaphorically speaking.

Holden. My husband. The person who can occupy my brain simultaneously in the best and worst ways.

“Hey.”

He gives me a once-over to check I’m okay, like he always does. Too bad for him, he can only see the damage on the outside. He most definitely wouldn’t regard me with worry in his eyes if he saw the ugly wasteland that was my insides.

Are we feeling a bit dramatic today?

Maybe.

But with the emotional roller coaster lately, it might be time for a pity party. Maybe that’ll help get rid of it all.

“I’m absolutely terrified this thing with Olivia won’t end well. Especially once she finds out the truth.”

Since the mixer was on, I only heard the last snippet of their conversation. They were obviously talking about me, but about what exactly? What’s going on between Holden and me? Or this whole stalker mess? I’m unsure how much Holden has shared with Archer or what they might hide from me.

“Did something happen?” The words are out of my mouth before I can overthink them. I don’t need more on my plate, but I also don’t want to be kept in the dark.

Holden’s forehead creases. “No. Why?”

I shrug. “Just wondering. You look like something bad happened.”

“I think there’s been enough going on as it is.”

I nod, listening to the clanging coming from the kitchen. “Is Archer cooking?”

“Baking. He does that when he’s stressed.”

My eyebrows rise. “Wow. Can’t say I expected that.”

There’s a fondness in Holden’s eyes when he says, “His grandma used to bake a lot with him, and then we’d all reap the benefits from it. She was the best.”

“I think you mentioned her before. Was she the one whose house you spent a lot of time at after school?”

Holden nods and smiles. “Yeah, that was her.”

“You told me she was a great woman, and I’m glad you had her. Everyone should have good people in their life.”

“You’re right.”

I know some of Holden’s past, but not a lot. It was only him, his mom, and his sister. No dad. From the way he talked about them, he was only close with his sister, until she was ripped away from him during an accident with her boyfriend. It was eerily similar to what happened to my parents when a drunk driver took them from me. Contrary to Holden’s situation though, my mom and dad were the best, fun-loving, and lovable parents I could have hoped for.

After their accident, the state sent me to live with my aunt in her unconventional and unprogressive off-the-grid community. I went from a home where I knew nothing but love and acceptance to one where I was too wild, too loud, and too everything. I never fit in, no matter how much I tried or how they pushed and punished me.

Something rattles in the kitchen, pulling me out of my thoughts. Muttered curses follow the noise.

I chuckle. “Is he okay?”

Holden smirks. “Yeah. Trust me, we’d be hearing it otherwise.”

Trust me.

I know he didn’t mean it in the literal sense, but do I trust him? Between all the crap happening with the naked guy in my condo, the bouquet during the photo shoot, the club incident and delivered photo threat after, and my breakdown over Felix, things have slowly shifted.

I’m not as on edge around him anymore. Calmer. Not as snarky either. And as much as I try not to suppress it, he sometimes makes me laugh. Then there’s the dang attraction. With each passing second, I seek more of his closeness, comfort, and body. Occasionally, I catch myself wanting to touch him, even if it’s just a tiny gesture like laying my hand on his arm.

I’m screwed.

And worst of all, I don’t want to hate him anymore. Not that I ever really did. But I’m tired of being mad. It’s exhausting to hold on to those negative emotions for so long.

Maybe that makes me slightly delusional and stupid even to consider letting him fully in, yet I can’t help but wonder what would happen if things worked out somehow.

Forgiveness isn’t easy, but neither is loneliness.

While not everyone deserves a second chance, shouldn’t I at least give him the benefit of the doubt? Even if that means putting my heart on the line?

You could get your best friend back and the man you secretly had a crush on.

I never said anything about a crush.

Uh-huh. Sure.

I shake my head at my crazy thoughts.

You need to know what happened back then. That’s the main obstacle between you.

I know I need to ask him. Soon. Without Archer around. That’s not a conversation I want to have in front of anyone.

Holden leans his shoulder against the wall, crossing one foot over the other. And damn it, I can’t help the heat that blooms in my stomach. It’s slightly embarrassing, and I’m glad he can’t see my body’s reaction to such a mundane thing as him leaning against the wall because this is slightly obnoxious. He already dares to look good enough to eat without doing any extra hot things. Next thing I know, he’ll be rolling up his sleeves or start dirty talking to me. My body is clearly in charge of my feelings for him.

He crosses his bulky arms over his chest, and I inwardly groan. He’s totally doing this on purpose. He has to be. I swear there’s even a twinkle in his eyes.

Warmth seeps into my cheeks, and he raises a brow in response.

“Sooooo.”

He draws out the word, giving me a much-needed moment to collect myself.

“Do you approve of this place?”

His question surprises me, and I blink a few times. I’m sure I imagined the hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “It’s beautiful, Holden.”

“Good.” He pushes off the wall. “Let’s return to the city and pack your stuff then.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, why not? We can get the essentials today and the rest in a few days.”

We’re both silent until the words tumble out of my mouth.

“You’re sure you want me to move into your house?”

You told him you’d move if he thought it was safer.

Yes, but at that point, I didn’t realize I’d be moving in with him. I thought we might rent a random place or something.

Moving in with Holden is a big deal. It’s more than just sharing the same place with him as we did in my condo. This is his house. It changes the circumstances. The rules. Right?

I could continue living in my condo, but now that I’ve seen this place—the vast property and how much Stormy enjoys it—it’s almost impossible to decline. He also has a state-of-the-art studio. The studio he built. For me.

Maybe that was his way of apologizing to you?

Either way, it’s absolutely beautiful—the entire house is. The only difference from us sharing my condo would be the bonus of more space for Stormy and me—a pool, an entire property, where I don’t need to worry about paparazzi getting pictures of me.

We’d be safer and more comfortable here than in the city for now. And if I need to go back, it’s only about forty miles away.

“Stop thinking so much. I can practically hear your thoughts.” He steps closer. “And yes, I’m sure I want you here.”

I inhale deeply and blow out my breath. Then I say, “Okay.”

He briefly closes his eyes as if I just said something profound and nods. “Do you want to take Stormy back with us or have her stay here with Archer?”

I stare at the spot near the patio doors where Stormy has curled up on a large dog bed. Holden got a dog bed for her. While her eyes are still open, they’re definitely droopy. “Will he be here the entire time we’re gone?”

“As far as I know, yeah.”

I nod. “Then she can stay. If that’s okay with him.”

Before I can say another word, he spins and marches into the kitchen, and I’m hot on his heels. And I only stare at his dark pants that hug his tight ass for a second, five max.

Archer’s on one side of the big kitchen island with a medium-sized mixing bowl in one hand and a spatula in the other. He stirs whatever is in front of him while Holden talks to him. Then, his gaze swings to where I’m standing halfway into the room.

The corner of his mouth moves into what I consider his signature smirk. “Don’t worry about us, Buttercup. I’ll take good care of your girl.”

Holden groans, and I laugh. There’s just something so refreshing about the way Archer talks to me. It sounds stupid, but most people walk on eggshells around me. Say what they think I might want them to say and behave accordingly. Archer still acts exactly like his cocky and flirty self from five years ago, and somehow that grounds me in the here and now and in my relationship with Holden.

“Thanks, Arch.”

His gaze snaps to Holden. “Aww, did you hear that? She called me Arch.”

I laugh some more and walk over to Stormy. After giving her some pets and cuddles, I tell her, “I’ll be back soon, sweetie, okay? Be good for Archer.”

Holden rubs over Stormy’s head too, and with a wave at Archer, we head toward the garage door.

“Hurry up, or there won’t be anything left for you,” Archer yells after us.

Holden shakes his head at my laugh. “He wasn’t joking. I’ve seen him eat an entire box of donuts before. In one sitting. By himself.”

My eyes widen at his statement. “No way.”

He nods. “Oh, I couldn’t believe it either. And he didn’t even get sick. I’m convinced there’s a huge black hole in his stomach.”

“How on earth does he still look that good?”

Holden’s step falters. “You think he looks good?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, have you seen him?”

He scoffs, “Too often, to be honest. I just didn’t realize you’ve been checking him out.”

I jab my elbow into his side. “You know what I mean. Of course I notice the people around me. I didn’t mean I was checking him out, merely observing.”

“Uh-huh.”

He opens the SUV door on my side, and I turn to him before getting in. Taking in his set jaw, his slightly narrowed eyes. “Holden Donahue, are you jealous?”

Instead of answering my question, he leans closer until our noses almost touch. “Get your sweet ass into the car, Hurricane.”

I press my lips together to keep from laughing, but a grin still threatens to split my lips when I slide into my seat and Holden shuts the door. Is he jealous because I said Archer looked good? That would be ridiculous.

I watch him through the windshield while he talks to his men, who were waiting for us in the garage. He towers over most of them with his height and broad frame. They nod to whatever he says and file into their cars. We leave the property in the same three-car formation as earlier. It’s probably overkill since no one knows about this place, but Holden seems to deem it necessary, and who am I to tell him how to do his job?

The next few hours pass quickly as I pack three suitcases with my essentials: clothes, toiletries, all the electronics I need, and the few pictures I have left of my parents and some I took with Evie. As Holden said, I can stop by if I need to get more.

As if summoned, he knocks on my open bedroom door. “Are you all set?”

I’m standing in the middle, doing a three-sixty. “I think so.”

“Jax and I packed up all the perishable food from the kitchen. We’re not moving to a remote island, so we can get everything else later or just buy it.”

I huff a laugh. “True. Although a trip to a remote island sounds pretty great.”

“Just say the word, and I’ll get the jet ready.”

“Angel Island?”

The corner of his mouth tilts upward. “The one and only.”

“I might take you up on that offer once my schedule gets better.”

So now we’re openly flirting? Making plans to go on vacation together?

“Consider yourself whisked away.”

Ugh. This man.

Someone calls him, and he sighs. “Duty calls.” He points to one of my suitcases. “They’re ready to go?”

“Yup.”

He grabs two of my suitcases and heads out with them, while I walk around again to ensure I didn’t forget anything important.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re back in the car and ready to head out, with two large drinks sitting in the cupholders.

Holden must notice my stare and says, “I had one of the guys pick up a couple for us for the ride home.”

My response seems to take too long, and he adds, “It’s a caramel macchiato. Was that the wrong one?”

I shake myself out of my stupor and pick up the warm cup. “No, sorry. That’s my favorite. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

On the outside, I sip my drink as if Holden didn’t just do this super-thoughtful thing. On the inside, I’m giggling and kicking my feet.

I’m so ridiculously screwed.

The city streets turn into freeways and then into more quiet roads.

The sound of screeching tires is the only warning that everything is about to go to shit.