40. I Will Survive
CARTER
Olivia’s late, but that’s nothing new. I don’t mind, except that I’m slightly terrified her niece and nephew will show up for this sleepover and she still won’t be here. I think I can handle Alannah on my own for a bit, but Jem? He, like…requires a responsible adult. I’m gonna be that adult.
I put the finishing touches on the movie fort and check my phone again. No response from Olivia, and the kids are being dropped off in an hour.
Have I mentioned I’ve never babysat before?
I’m panicking.
I dial Olivia’s number, hand on my hip, foot tapping while I listen to each ring that ultimately brings me to her voice mail. I don’t care how cute she sounds while she tells me she’s sorry she missed my phone call; I’m still panicking.
She should’ve been here an hour ago. She brought her clothes to work so she could come right here.
She’s not here and she hasn’t answered any calls or messages.
Maybe it’s my controlling streak, or maybe it’s the fact that the last time I couldn’t get a hold of someone, he was lying dead on the side of the road, but I’ve passed the point of panic now.
Which is why I call two more times in quick succession.
Olivia answers on the last ring, breathless. “Hello?”
The pain stretching across my chest subsides, yet I still bark out, “Where are you? Why weren’t you answering?”
“I…I’m sorry, Carter.”
My eyes fall shut at the surprise in her tone, the wave of hurt at my words. I take a deep breath and try again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She sighs, grunts, and makes a whole lot of other sounds. I think I hear…kicking? Punching? “Stupid…fucking…snow…fucking Canadian winter…piece of crap…car!”
I swallow my laugh. It’s the second day of March. For most—and usually us too—it means the arrival of spring. This winter from hell means we had a snowstorm yesterday. Olivia drives an old Toyota Corolla, and she got her snow tires the first winter she was here. This is her eighth winter.
“Where are you, Ol?” It’s easier to beat around the bush with her sometimes than to come right out and ask her what you really want to know, which, right now, is whether she’s gotten herself stuck in the snow.
“Down the road from the school,” Olivia grumbles.
“Uh-huh. And why’s that? School finished at two thirty. It’s four.”
“I’m stuck,” she mumbles.
“You’re what?”
“Stuck.”
“Say it again, princess. Can’t quite hear you over the roar of the fireplace.” If I push her buttons right, we can have a quick round of steamy, wild sex with Olivia pushed up against the wall before the kids get here.
Olivia’s still swearing at me, and I smile to myself as I settle into my truck and start backing out of the garage.
“Are you coming to get me?” she asks quietly as my phone connects to my speakers.
“Uh-huh. Which I could’ve done an hour ago if you’d called me when you first got yourself stuck.”
“I didn’t—it wasn’t—you— ugh !”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I tell her with a chuckle.
“Thank you. You can find me standing on the side of the road, halfway in the ditch.”
And that’s pretty much exactly where I find her.
There’s only a foot, maybe, but it’s that heavy, wet snow, the kind that doesn’t want to move, which means the way she’s trying to kick it away from her tires is futile.
I see her mouth moving as she talks to herself, see the way her body sags when she sees me.
She does this dramatic half sprawl thing over the hood of her car, and I love her more than I ever thought possible.
“Well, well, well. Who could have ever predicted little ol’ red wouldn’t make it in all this snow?”
“I have snow tires!”
“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but when your snow tires are eight years old and have no tread left on them, they’re not gonna do their job.”
She huffs and puffs but doesn’t have a retort, instead choosing to pin her arms across her chest and frown. Her toque slips down her forehead, and she couldn’t look more bothered that she has to shift it out of her eyes to keep scowling at me, my fierce girl.
“You can’t drive this piece of sh—” I halt, catching the slow rise of her dark brows. Her expression is expectant, waiting for me to finish that word I started. “Ssshhhiny red metal.” The corner of her mouth lifts and I grin. “It’s not built for Canadian winters.”
Olivia throws both arms in the air. The thick mittens with the floppy puppy ears make the gesture more cute than scary. “Well, excuse me for not having seven cars to choose from!”
“Five,” I murmur.
“What?”
“I only have five cars.”
Mocha eyes do an exasperated roll. “That’s still four more than the average human. But, oh wait, I forgot—Carter Beckett is anything but average!”
Her arms are in the air again, and my teeth press into my bottom lip to keep my smile from turning into a full-blown, shit-eating grin. “Snarky girls get put on time-out.”
Olivia’s face breaks as a burst of laughter escapes. Shuffling slowly through the snow, she wraps her arms around me, chin on my chest as she smiles up at me. “I’m sorry. All five of your cars are pretty, and I love that you’re anything but ordinary.”
“Mmm.” I rock her side to side, hands on her ass. “Would you say I’m superhuman? Your very own superman, perhaps?”
Gripping the collar of my coat, she hauls me down to her, her lips brushing against mine. “Keep talking, big man. See where that gets you.”
“I know exactly where it’ll get me—between your luscious thighs.” I kiss her mouth, then her nose. “I’m sorry, Ollie. I’m sorry I was upset on the phone earlier.”
“It’s okay, Carter.”
“It’s not. I was worried something happened to you, and I let it get the best of me.” My thumb brushes over the crease in her forehead, hoping to smooth it right off. When that doesn’t work, I kiss the spot and try for humor. “Guess I’m not as perfect as you always say I am.”
Olivia takes my face in her hands. “You’re perfectly flawed, and I’m going to love you through all your faults, because you love me through mine.”
“I fucking love you.” I clap a hand to her ass and give her a gentle shove toward the truck. “All right. Follow behind me. I’m parking this thing in my garage ’til the snow is gone.”
“But I-I can’t…I’ve never driven a truck.”
“She’s real gentle. Promise.”
Olivia looks up at the daunting task before her: climbing up. “I don’t think I can…Carter, I don’t think I can reach. I have little legs.”
“ Powerful little legs.” I scoot behind her, crossing my arms as I gesture to the seat with the flick of my head. “Come on. Let’s see you work for it.”
She narrows her eyes before she turns back to the seat and starts trying to climb up there. It’s amusing. Highly amusing. I start reaching for my phone in my pocket, because I know a few people who would get a kick out of this.
“Don’t even think about it,” she growls without looking at me. Damn teachers with their eyes everywhere.
With a grunt, Olivia throws herself at the seat, feet dangling off the ground and ass in the air as she clutches the center console and starts dragging herself up.
Chuckling, I put her out of her misery, boosting her the rest of the way.
Grabbing the shovel out of the truck bed, I make my way back to her car, digging her tires out.
She’s gotten herself stuck pretty damn good, and it takes me a few minutes of rocking the car back and forth before it wants to go forward.
I hit Olivia with two thumbs up when I’m ready to go, then climb into her car. It’s way too small for me and my knees hit the steering wheel.
It takes me all of one minute to realize Olivia’s one of those people who’s anxious about driving in the snow.
Or maybe she’s anxious about driving a truck that’s worth more than her annual salary.
Probably both. Regardless, I’m driving three miles under the speed limit the entire way back to my place just to placate her.
She follows me into the garage and hops down from the front seat with an oomph and a smile. “Thank you, Carter. That wasn’t so bad.”
“New snow tires next winter.” I swap her keys for the truck keys on her ring. “Or an entirely new car.” Birthday present? Maybe. Seems like something she’d be likely to castrate me over, though.
“What are you doing?”
“Adding the truck keys to your key ring?” I arch a brow and smile before hanging all sets of keys up, opening the door to the house. Olivia doesn’t budge.
“I can see that. But why?”
“So you can get around safely in the snow.” I gesture toward the doorway again.
“Carter, I can’t drive your truck every day.”
“Sure you can. I have five cars, remember? Don’t need this one right now.” I tap her nose. “But you do.”
“But-but—”
“I do love your butt-butt.”
Back go the arms across her chest. “Carter.”
“Olivia. We’re arguing over something pointless.
Your car is giving you trouble and I’d worry less about you if I knew your tires weren’t spinning while I’m thousands of miles away.
Please, just use it. At least until the snow is gone.
” Taking her hand, I haul her back to the truck.
“And, look!” I press a button on the inside of the door and a side step appears.
Olivia’s jaw drops. “There was a step this whole time? And you made me climb in?”
I shrug. “It was fun to watch. Plus, I got to touch your butt.”
Her little fist pummels into my shoulder. “You’re a jerk.”
“A perfectly flawed, superhuman jerk.”
Her nose scrunches as she tries—and fails—not to grin. “I love you.”
I wind my arm around her waist and kiss her cheek. “I love you, too, pumpkin.”
Olivia heads upstairs to get changed, and I start on the Oreo brownies I promised Alannah. My mom invented this recipe for my twelfth birthday. There’s cookie dough in these bad boys, and I accidentally eat a few spoonfuls while I smoosh it into the bottom of the pan. Oops.
“ Carter !”
I smile to myself. I’m 100 percent sure what Olivia’s hollering about up there, so I know a little flattery will go a long way. “Yes, my darling?”
“Get up here!”