43. I’m Not Immature, I’m Goofy There’s A Difference #2
I smile down at her, touching my lips to hers.
“I like that.” A heaviness settles on my chest, a weight that’s been looming for years, waiting for a vulnerability to jump on.
Olivia’s my vulnerability. As strong as I am, loving her makes me weak too.
Our love opens up pieces of me I didn’t know existed, or maybe pieces I’d tucked away.
Because I’d do anything for her, give her anything, and right now, I want to give her the truth I’ve been avoiding.
“I’m not sure I’ve been the best son, though. Not to my dad.”
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t visited him since the funeral, the cemetery where he’s buried.”
Olivia runs her fingers through my hair. “I don’t think that makes you a bad son, Carter. Things like that can be challenging. Maybe that’s not where you feel him. And that’s okay. Do you want to go back?”
“It’s always felt too hard, but maybe…maybe one day, if you’ll come with me. Things always feel easier with you.”
Her smile is soft and warm, like her. “Hard things are always easier when we’re together.”
She’s right. And that’s exactly how I find myself turning right where I should be turning left two hours later.
That’s how I find myself gripping the steering wheel as I stare down the long path that winds through the cemetery, the simple thought of walking through it daunting.
That’s how I find myself clutching Olivia’s hand as she walks alongside me, and still as she stands next to me while I stare down at the words carved in marble before us.
Theodore ‘Theo’ Beckett
LOVING HUSBAND & DEVOTED FATHER
BEST FRIEND
“Remember me as I lived: full of love, laughter, and passion”
There’s a strange ache in my chest. It’s tight and a little painful, but it’s not heavy. And when Olivia squeezes my hand, when she turns into my side and presses a kiss to my arm, the pain starts to retreat.
I don’t know how long we stand there in silence, but when I’m ready to leave, Olivia presses a kiss to my lips.
“Just a second, Carter. There’s something I want to do first.”
I watch Olivia approach my dad’s grave, and when she kneels in front of it, head bowing, my throat constricts.
Her head lifts after a moment, and she lays her hand over his name before she stands and makes her way back to me.
I don’t know what to say, but she doesn’t ask me to talk, so we ride in silence, her hand in mine in the center console.
“Carter,” Olivia says as we drive through downtown. “I hate to do this, but would you mind stopping? I need to use the bathroom and I’m not sure I can wait.”
“Sure, baby. Where do you want me to stop?”
She points at the building up the street. “Just at your condo.”
“We can’t go there.”
“I’ll be quick.”
“I sold the condo, Ollie.”
Olivia blinks at me. “What? When?”
“Uh, you know the first time I came to see you at work? The Monday after I brought you to the condo? I dropped the keys off to my real estate agent that morning and asked her to take care of it. It was gone by the end of the week.”
It was a bonus years ago when I re-signed with Vancouver after my initial contract was up.
I had no intention of going anywhere else, but everybody who could afford me wanted me, and Vancouver wanted to make sure I stayed, so they threw everything they could at me.
I only lived there for one season before I bought my house, and instead of selling it, I kept it.
I wanted that part of my life separate from the rest of it, the most personal parts of me.
I wasn’t lying when I said Olivia was the first woman I’d had in my bed at home, and she’ll be the only.
“Carter…”
“It was never my home, Ollie. Not without you.”
My home is wherever Olivia is. When we’re lying on the balcony an hour later, freshly showered and wasting away the rest of the afternoon, the warm breeze tickling our skin, this is where I feel it the most, where I could stay forever, so long as it’s with her.
My fingers dance across Olivia’s shoulders, kissed pink and sprinkled with tiny freckles from the sun. “You’re so beautiful, Ollie.”
“You just like my sundresses.” Her words kiss my neck.
“I fucking love your sundresses.” Winter lasted for-fucking-ever here, a colossal shitstorm Vancouver hasn’t seen in ages and hopefully never sees again, but spring came roaring in like a lion.
April was warm and rainy, and May’s been every bit an early summer.
That means Olivia’s traded in her sweaters for these adorable sundresses that show off her legs, her shoulders, and I get to be touching her all the time, feeling how warm her skin is beneath my lips, or my cheek on her shoulder.
“I’m thinking we should relocate to San Jose or Tampa, somewhere it’s always warm. You’ll never have to wear pants again.”
“Mmm…and you know what comes with no pants, Carter?”
“What?”
Olivia crawls on top of me, straddling my hips, her flowery yellow sundress riding up. She takes my hand, running it up her creamy thighs, and dips my fingers. I think I might cry when I meet that pool of heat.
She bends, lips meeting my jaw. “No panties.”
No fucking panties.
She tugs on my shorts, shifting them down, and I hiss when her hand wraps around my cock. He kicks in her tight grasp and I fumble for my phone, snapping a picture at the exact moment she swallows me in her mouth.
I gather her damp curls in my fist. “I fucking love you.”
Fuck , you ever seen the most beautiful girl in the world smile at you with her mouth full of your cock? Jesus Christ , it’s a sight. I take one more picture before I yank her head back.
“I need you to sit on me, baby. Right fucking now.”
Olivia presses herself overtop of me, rocking, letting my cock slide through her sopping slit, and when she lifts, lining the head up, I stop her.
“Wait. I just want to say…thank you. Thank you for today, Ollie. Spending the day doing something my dad and I used to do together, going with me to see him…it means a lot to me. Thank you.”
Her smile is tender and a little bit bashful, and she sits back on my thighs.
“I was thinking maybe next year we could do a whole week for your dad’s birthday, the way he always did, with you and your sister and your mom.
Do the things you guys did together. And Hank as well.
We could do something he and Ireland loved to do.
Maybe it would be a nice way to remember them. ”
I don’t know how I found her, but I’m pretty sure it was fate, the same way I walked into the same bar Hank was in that night.
“Can I ask you something, Ollie? What did you say? To my dad? When you knelt down…”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you?”
“I thanked him for bringing me another family, trusting me with loving them. I thanked him for raising the man I love, and for bringing him to me.” Her hand glides along my jaw. “I thanked him for you, Carter.”
My chest constricts, a lump in my throat forming that’s impossible to swallow, but I try anyway.
When that doesn’t work, I look to the sky, and a single tear drips from my eye.
Olivia’s lips trap it, stopping it in its track, and when she whispers how much she loves me, I bury myself to the hilt in the best thing that’s ever been mine.
* * *
“You’re going to burn my steak if you don’t stop looking at me.”
I grin at Olivia, hitting her with a wink. She’s lounging on a blanket on the grass, feet in the air as she reads a book, curls piled on top of her head. I don’t know how anybody can be expected to take their eyes off her, but she’s picky about her steak and I like to please her, so I manage.
Today’s been perfect, a glimpse at the summer to come, days on end to spend together, and I don’t want it to end.
It’s been a welcome reprieve from the constant need to be on, always thinking about the next play-off game.
Breaks are few and far between, but we’re one win away from heading to the Conference Finals, and I managed to surprise Olivia by flying her parents to Winnipeg for the game we played there two nights ago.
It’s been a hectic month, and with the finals looming and Olivia’s move, June is shaping up to be even more crazy.
“Is that your phone?” Olivia calls, head cranking in the direction of the patio door.
My ears perk, and when I hear my ringtone, I shut the lid on the barbecue and jog to the door. My phone sits on the kitchen countertop, and the number is one I don’t recognize.
“Am I speaking with Carter?” the voice on the other end asks.
“This is Carter.”
“Hi, Carter. My name is Dr. Murphy. I’m a doctor at Vancouver General Hospital. You’re listed as Hank De Vries’s emergency contact.”
The barbecue tongs in my hands clatter to the floor, and I barely register Olivia’s voice calling out to me.
“There’s been an accident.”