40. Big Sis
BIG SIS
Ivy—July
I was giddy—me. Giddy.
Ever since we’d gotten back from our California vacation and then moved my stuff out of the apartment, things had just felt different. More permanent. Happy. Exciting. Endless possibilities on the surface of it all.
I’d been here just over a month now, the summer slipping into late July before we knew it was happening.
Somehow every night I’d managed to find myself sharing his bed.
My things had begun slowly maneuvering into his room and bathroom.
Things that I thought would stress me out or make me anxious, yet somehow I found myself eager instead.
We still hadn’t told everyone officially yet, but the girls had claimed it was pretty obvious.
I came down the steps just as Oliver was coming back inside from dropping off Sunny.
“Is he excited?” He was staying over at Ember and Wyatt’s tonight, and then tomorrow morning they were going to a comic book convention in Denver all day. Apparently, it was a big deal, and it happened every summer just before school started back up.
Oliver nodded. “Insanely excited. One of his favorite illustrators will be there, and Wyatt was able to get him some tickets, so he’ll be able to meet the guy and get his comics signed.”
“I’m so jealous I didn’t grow up with cool aunts and uncles like him.
My parents are both only children. Lame.
” I walked past him on my way to the kitchen, when his hand slid around my waist, spinning me around and pulling me back into his body.
I couldn’t help the smile when I looked up at him.
He’d trimmed his beard back slightly, but it was still long enough to run my fingers through if I wanted.
“Yes, my favorite stoic cowboy?”
“Your favorite implies you have more than one, Ivy Tinsley,” he grumbled as his hands cupped my butt and he lifted me up, my legs around his waist on pure instinct. “Anything you want to explain before I redden that ass of yours?”
My arms wrapped around his neck, and I smiled. “Mmm, maybe. I mean, we do know quite a few cowboys.”
He slid me onto the island countertop, standing between my thighs as his hands slid down to my hips.
“We do know a few cowboys, yet I don’t recall hearing you call any of them Daddy while they made you scream at the top of your lungs and orgasm all over their cocks.” There was a spike in my heart rate, and if it weren’t for his body, I’d absolutely be closing my legs right now.
“I mean, I don’t think you’re wrong there, no.” I hoped I didn’t sound as breathless as I felt, but given the smirk he was tossing my way, he absolutely caught onto it.
“You don’t think I’m wrong?” His arched brow with that damn smirk made it hard to fight off the smile on my own face.
“Okay, so you’re not wrong. Not wrong at all.” My arms went back around his neck, and I pulled him closer, kissing him without reservation.
We’d tried to keep things between us on the down-low, especially around Sunny. Not because I didn’t want him to know, but because part of me was still terrified this wasn’t going to work out. That something was going to go wrong. That I’d manage to fuck it up somehow.
“I can feel your brain spiraling,” he whispered, his fingers dipping underneath my T-shirt, rubbing small circles along my bare skin.
“I was thinking about Sunny.” That was another thing—it seemed being honest with Oliver Carragan was the easier than breathing.
He just waited, giving me the space and time to articulate my thoughts.
Something that should’ve been the bare minimum but hadn’t been prior to him.
“Hiding this thing between us from him doesn’t feel good, Oliver.
But on the other side, I don’t want him dragged in if it doesn’t work out. ”
One of his hands snaked up my back and into my hair, his grip within the curls sturdy and unrelenting. “It will work out, baby doll. I’ve already moved you in. But we don’t need to tell him or anyone before you’re ready to do so.”
I nodded, kissing him one more time before forcing myself to pull away before he decided right here on this counter sounded like a better idea than going dancing with the rest of his family.
“Are you ready to go be social for a bit?” The question came out a whisper, our foreheads set together as I reigned in the desire to further those kisses. But thankfully, he pressed a kiss to my nose and nodded.
“Let’s do this. Ready to see my girl twirl.”
He lifted me up and off the counter, smacking my ass as I walked past him once more and grabbing his hat from the counter.
He looked every bit of his normal scrumptious cowboy self tonight.
Light jeans, button-up olive-green shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a cowboy hat, and his clean boots—his words, not mine.
All of which matched my jeans shorts and olive-green tank top.
Though I’d put on my white boots, I didn’t own a hat, so it left me slightly lacking in the department of us matching.
We pulled up at the The Raven, the truck ride filled with Oliver’s favorite divorced dad rock before he was forced to listen to new age country music for the next three hours.
Again, his words, not mine. He climbed out, jogging over to open my door for me, which only resulted in an eye roll from me.
He leaned into me, unbuckling my seat belt, and whispered, “You keep rollin’ your eyes like that when I’m trying to be a gentleman like my mama raised me, and I’ll show you how un-gentleman like I can be when needed.”
My cheeks heated, my thighs squeezing together against my will as his hand brushed over the bare skin, only for him to stand back, a hand offered out to help me from the truck. As if he’d said nothing to rile me up at all.
I took it, climbing down from the cabin of his truck, and shook off his heated stare, determined to be a good girl this evening.
His words from days ago slid into my mind unprompted. ‘Only good girls get to come.’
“You look all hot and bothered over there.” He’d leaned in, his words not helping my current mental state as I glared at him over my shoulder. He pushed the door open for me, the smirk on his face saying he knew exactly what he was doing.
Fucker.
“I think you need a beer, and I need to be…elsewhere,” I muttered. We’d agreed to play it cool while we were out. We could hang out, but that was it. Nothing intimate and nothing possessive.
Although, with the looks he was throwing me, possessive may have been the only thing on his mind right now.
Aspen smiled, her eyes over my shoulder, but I didn’t have a chance to question it as hands slid around my waist and the warmth of his body encompassed me.
I smiled, despite myself, despite the fact that we’d agreed not to do anything in public.
It seemed neither of us gave a shit anymore.
His hands dipped beneath my tank top, the material sliding from beneath his grasp as his calloused fingers met my skin.
Spinning around, his hands moving to my lower back, my arms linking around his neck, we danced.
And as the song changed, we kept dancing.
And by the time the fifth song ended, I was kissing him.
My hands in his hair, his beneath my tank top, pressing along the sides of my spine and my lower back.
He tasted like cinnamon chewing gum and whiskey all rolled into one.
The feeling of his beard tickled along my jaw.
Only when his hand squeezed my hip did I finally break the kiss.
Breathless. Overheated. Lust filled and eager to take him back home.
Home. I smiled, the anxiety that filled me before melting away as he smiled down at me.
My hands fell from his hair as the song ended, and a low whistle sounded behind us. “Fucking Payton,” Oliver mumbled between us, but I couldn’t help but laugh.
“That’s enough of a show for them, I think. I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. Can you grab me a water?” He nodded, reluctantly pulling away. He walked to the bar and started bullshitting with Payton, if her smile was anything to go by.
Making my way to the bathroom in the far back corner of the bar, I was grateful when I found the room vacant.
Once my bathroom break was accomplished, I splashed a little water on my face and decided to use my spare scrunchie to pull up my hair.
The short blonde tendrils plastered to my neck as if I’d just run a marathon, but something about my eyes still screamed happy. Hot mess and all.
I pulled the door open, only to find a body blocking my way.
“Excuse me,” I tried to holler over the music. Who the fuck stood in front of a bathroom door like this? But a sinking feeling in my gut formed as the body turned around and Todd’s snide face stared down at me. “Um, hi.”
“Fancy meeting you here.” Everything about his demeanor screamed ‘get away from him quickly’, but he hadn’t moved from the doorway, so unless I was prepared to start screaming or physically become a battering ram, I didn’t see many other options.
“Can I get past, please?”
Did he follow me back here? Or was this a coincidence? I mean, we still lived in the same town. He was allowed to be here, though it was weird that he was, since he hated this place and swore he only showed up before because I loved it.
“I meant what I said in those texts, Ivy,” he stated plainly, his eyes not leaving mine. “Don’t think just because you’re hanging out on the dance floor with your boss changes my plans.”
His plans? Texts?
“I’m sorry. What are you talking about? I haven’t gotten a text from you in…I don’t even know how long now, Todd. Since before my California trip, at the very least. Other than me telling you about coming to get my shit and you not replying.”
He reared back, his eyes wide. The way the light hit them, I could tell they were bloodshot. He looked like shit, for lack of a better term.