Chapter 8 Olivia
OLIVIA
Nearly a week had passed since I left Duke’s bar, and each day I wondered if he was as bothered by my sneaking out as I seemed to be.
In my slightly drunken stupor, I thought having the old men tell him I was hitchhiking with a stranger would be funny, but now it just felt rude.
Given, though, that he hadn’t tried to contact me to verify I was, in fact, still alive, I guessed he was fine with it.
He doesn’t even have your number to contact you, you fucking idiot.
Try as I might, everything about that day still unnerved me. Though Lukas swore he hadn’t invited my mother, he’d clearly let something slip. And while I knew avoiding her entirely wouldn’t be possible forever, I’d hoped I could get away with it for a little while longer.
She had barely nodded a polite hello in my direction before her attention snagged on Charlie.
I hated the way they stared at one another.
They might as well have been strangers, and for all intents and purposes, they were.
The last time I’d seen my mother—the night we’d both traded insults we couldn’t take back—I’d vowed she would never know my daughter.
That she’d have no chance to dig her talons into Charlie’s mind, warping and twisting it until she was as lost as I had been growing up under her care.
Lukas, true to his word, had intercepted before she could say a word to my daughter.
I ushered her into John’s house, closing the door on my brother so that he could get rid of her, even if only for that day.
I was struggling enough as it was and I wasn’t allowed to break down the way I wanted to.
I had to hold it together for Charlie, who’d run right up to the man she loved so much.
The silence in the house had been unnerving, immediately setting my senses on alert.
John was the type of man who you could hear from a mile away.
He was loud—obnoxiously so. He’d never learned the concept of an inside voice, not even when it came to business.
Typically, when I came over, it felt like home, but that day it felt like a tomb.
The house was mourning right along with us.
Seeing John in such a frail state, the way his chapped lips cracked as he spoke, the yellow pallor of his skin, had rattled me to my very core. He always seemed infallible growing up. But then again, I’d once thought that about my own father, too. Turned out he was just as mortal as the rest of us.
Though he’d tried to put on a show for our sakes’, I could tell how much pain he was in.
Seeing Charlie helped, I think. There was a glimmer of something in his eyes as we left.
Unshed tears that would likely fall when he was alone.
I hated the thought. Hated leaving him, but his eyes were growing heavy, and Charlie was pulling into herself, watching the man who’d been like a grandfather to her disappear before her eyes.
Before we left, I texted Grady and Cleo to ask if Charlie could come over for a few hours.
I knew it was my weekend with her, knew I’d just gotten back in town, but I needed a moment to wrap my head around everything.
My life felt like it was spinning out of control, and I desperately needed some space to spiral so I could eventually pick up the pieces of my new reality and piece them back together.
Even though, eventually, there would be another piece of me missing.
The decision to show up at Frank’s wasn’t taken lightly, but Lukas had assured me that Duke didn’t work on Sundays.
It was the one day a week that he dedicated solely to Harper.
I hadn’t heard from him after we’d dropped off groceries, so I wasn’t sure if I’d overstepped.
The last thing I wanted to do was suit up for another fight.
My armor was broken and needed repair. I didn’t trust myself not to make a complete and total ass out of myself.
But apparently, the universe had it out for me, because he’d shown up after all.
I’d wanted to die when he walked up to my table and asked if I was stalking him.
Of course, that was what it seemed like.
Accidentally assaulting someone in the grocery store and then buying and delivering their groceries probably wasn’t something a sane person would do.
He’d looked better than the last time I saw him.
Still tired, but show me a parent who wasn’t, and I’d call them a liar.
And with his wife apparently no longer in the picture, Duke was left to do it all on his own.
Even though Grady and I were divorced, I’d never considered myself a single parent.
I wasn’t doing it on my own. I couldn’t, in fact.
Because of my job, I was forced to rely on others for support.
If I didn’t have Grady and Cleo, I wasn’t sure what I would have done. Charlie would certainly suffer for it.
Who did Duke have save for the sweet bartender who also apparently filled the role of a nanny?
His mom had a stroke a few years ago and was unable to care for herself.
I remember Lukas telling me about how hard it’d been to find a good care facility with the space to take her.
John fronted the money for her care to ensure Duke didn’t have to make concessions.
His uncle, the former mayor, had recently moved to an oceanfront state to enjoy his retirement.
And even though I wasn’t quite sure what the situation with his ex-wife was, she seemed to have completely removed herself from the picture.
By the time I’d left the bar, I had more questions than answers.
I wanted to help him in whatever way I could.
Not that he would accept it, especially not from me.
He was too proud. It didn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to figure that out.
If I couldn’t outright ask him, then I’d have to find other ways around it. Ways he couldn’t say no to.
I remembered what he said about Harper’s soccer games.
How Charlie showed up to every one to support her best friend.
Grady offered to take her this morning, but I told him I would do it.
Honestly, I was thrilled to experience this dose of normalcy with my daughter.
If I were home more, it could be a regular occurrence.
Though I didn’t want to impede on Grady’s time with her, the prospect of stepping into a real routine with them had me jumping out of bed this morning.
Now, we were on our way to the game, rocking bright pink t-shirts with coffees and donuts in hand.
Charlie was strapped in behind me, singing loudly to whatever song was playing on the radio.
I sometimes saw so much of myself in her.
She had a true talent for music. Always had, even as a toddler, dancing to the beat.
The music producer and CEO in me was salivating at the potential she could have if she pursued a career in music, but the parent in me was nervous.
I didn’t want her to feel the pressure of the media and fans like her father and I had.
When we pulled up to the park, I paused, watching all the kids run to the field as their parents strolled leisurely behind them, lawn chairs in hand. “What happened to the stands?” I asked, brow furrowing. I hadn’t thought about seating.
“They took them down last month. They’re supposed to be putting new ones in, they haven’t.” Charlie looked behind us at the empty trunk of my SUV. “I thought Dad told you about that.”
I sighed. If he had, I must’ve missed it.
Honestly, I was too excited when I asked if I could take her, I might’ve blacked out entirely.
Shit. “I’m sorry, sunshine.” How could I have already fucked up something so simple?
Why wouldn’t I think to bring chairs as a precaution? I was severely out of practice.
“It’s okay, Mom. I like sitting in the grass by the team anyway.” She looked down at my cream joggers. “But you might want to stand so you don’t get stains on your butt.”
I laughed, unable to help myself. If grass stains were the price I had to pay, so be it. I’d gladly do it to see her smile.
“I’ll be fine. These are old anyway.” They most certainly were not. And they were expensive to boot, but they were just clothes. Clothes could be cleaned or replaced.
Time with my daughter could not.
Charlie smiled and opened the door. She took off at a dead run toward the team before I could utter a word. Like so many others, I let her go without too much worry. It wasn’t until I got closer to the parents that my nerves kicked in.
While I was used to being social for my job, I’d never really mastered small talk with other parents.
Maybe that was why most of the information I gleaned was second-hand from Grady or Cleo.
The majority of conversations I overheard in passing were about PTA meetings and school pick-up complaints, none of which I had experience in.
I didn’t even know what the PTA did, so I couldn’t even begin to contribute.
Sticking to the outskirts of the crowd seemed like the safer bet.
I didn’t want to feel judged for being so unprepared.
I could still see Charlie sitting on the sidelines, chatting to girls I assumed were her friends.
On instinct, I found myself scanning the kids for a pop of copper hair.
Because Harper was who we were here to support.
It definitely had nothing to do with my sudden interest in her father.
That would be ridiculous.
I was just about to sit down when a hand, calloused and warm, caught my elbow. “You should probably pay more attention.”
I whipped around, finding Duke staring down at me. Gone was his unkempt beard, in its place was a goddamn mustache that’d make Burt Reynolds proud. The stubble around his jaw only added to the hotness somehow. Like he was unbothered or just rolled out of bed.
When I didn’t say anything, he glanced down at my feet. “You were about to sit in dog shit.”
“Oh,” I said, following his trail to where a relatively fresh pile was steaming on the ground. “I swear that wasn’t there 30 seconds ago.” I lied. I hadn’t looked at all. But admitting that felt wholly irresponsible, and I didn’t want him to think worse of me than he already did.
“Right,” he muttered, hand still lingering on my skin. It wasn’t until a whistle blew behind us that he quickly dropped it to his side. “I’m guessing you didn’t bring a chair.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Fact. Though he might have disarmed me at first, his accusation had my skin prickling.
“For your information, I happen to like sitting on the ground. I like the feel of grass beneath my fingers. It’s soothing.”
His expression almost seemed bored. “I don’t really give a shit. It’s okay to admit you forgot—”
“I didn’t forget,” I interrupted.
“Yeah, okay. Sure.” Duke rolled his eyes. “Here. Take mine.” Before I could object, he roughly unfolded the chair between us. Both of us stared at it, unmoving.
“I don’t want—”
“Christ, woman. Are you always so damn stubborn? Just sit your ass in the chair.” His voice was loud enough that everyone around us turned to stare.
While he certainly didn’t seem to give a shit, I felt the burn of my cheeks as they turned bright red.
To save myself further embarrassment, I plopped down in the seat with an audible huff.
“Well, what’re you going to do? Just stand there?” I mumbled, crossing my arms. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but I was actually relieved not to ruin these joggers after the first wear. The lining was incredibly soft.
“Yup.” That was it. That one single word had me clamping my mouth shut so hard, my jaw hurt. I could feel him behind me, feel the heat coming from his body. It wasn’t even that chilly this morning, but it was welcome all the same.
Every move I made, every single shift in the stupid chair, was a reminder of his presence.
He seemed to adjust with me. Minute arrangements that always kept him at my left shoulder.
It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable. It was the fact that I could smell his cologne each time the breeze picked up.
There was a hint of spice to it, like burning sage and freshly cut cedar.
Without thinking, I found myself leaning closer.
When I realized what was happening, I’d pull back.
“Do you and Harper have plans after this?” I asked after a particularly long stretch of silence.
“What?”
“I asked if you had plans after this. I’m sure the girls are probably hungry. We could go to lunch. Harper can come over, too. I know you said Grady takes them sometimes.” I added the last part so it didn’t seem like a half-assed invite, but I wasn’t sure it landed as I intended.
When he didn’t say anything, I peeked up at him. His jaw was set, the muscle beneath fluttering as he gnashed his teeth together. “I know what you’re doing.”
I raised my brows in question. “Being nice?”
Silence stretched for a beat before he muttered, “I don’t need your pity, Olivia.”
Is that what he thought this was? “Good, because I’m not giving you any.
I’m trying to show you that last week was a one-off.
I’m not trying to step in and change the girls’ routine with my presence.
If they normally get together after soccer, I’ll gladly take them.
” When he still didn’t respond, I continued. “Lunch can even be on you.”
He made a noise that was somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff. Like he wanted to laugh, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. “It won’t be fancy, then. Sure you can handle that, honey?”
Honey. The nickname rolled off his tongue like butter and made me feel all sorts of warm inside. It was meant to be patronizing, but there was a certain lack of conviction to it. Like he changed his mind at the last minute, yet couldn’t stop himself.
“Please, Duke. I grew up in this town. I went to Dairy Queen every Friday night after high school football games just like everyone else. Contrary to whatever belief you have, I’m still that same girl.
” I pulled my YSL purse from beside me, shaking it his way.
“Just with slightly better accessories.”
His green eyes bore into me, searching for any hint of a lie. When he found none, his gaze flicked back to the field. “I can see that.”
Taking that as my cue, I turned around in my chair.
I didn’t want to fight. And despite the people-pleasing tendencies screaming in my mind, I didn’t need Duke to like me.
We were going to be around each other whether we wanted to or not.
His best friend was my brother, and our daughters were just as close.
His sigh was so heavy, I couldn’t help but smile. I knew what he was going to say before he even uttered the word. “Fine.”