Chapter 10 #3
I move toward the register with the gardening book I’ve decided to buy for Carol, pulling out my wallet.
The woman hobbles behind the counter, still cradling Mr. Darcy.
Her fingers fly over the register keys with surprising speed despite her obvious discomfort, and she hands me the book back with the receipt tucked inside, offering me a bag.
Then she freezes, her gaze snapping up to my face.
“I’ve seen you around. You’re Olivia’s new boyfriend, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Her entire demeanor transforms. “Oh! I’m Avery. Avery Bloom. Olivia and I went to high school together.”
I file that away. Olivia hasn’t mentioned her friends. Hasn’t introduced me to anyone beyond her family. I wonder why.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, because it seems like the thing to say.
Avery sets Mr. Darcy down. Her fingers reach across the counter to the display beside the register.
A small stand featuring a book with a dark blue cover.
A knife and a single red rose dominate the design.
“Give this to Olivia,” she says, pressing it into my hands before I can protest. “Tell her Avery sent it.”
I look down at the title. Winter’s Promise by A.J. Blackwood. The name’s familiar. I’ve seen it in airport bookstores, prominently displayed in mystery sections. Bestseller lists, if I remember correctly.
“I should pay—”
“It’s a gift.” She waves off my wallet with a shy smile. “For Olivia. She and I were best friends once.”
“Alright.” I fold it into the bag with the gardening book and tuck them under my arm. “Thank you.” The bells chime as I step back into the cold.
Snow falls harder now, fat flakes melting on my coat. I’ve barely taken two steps when Chase moves directly into my path, blocking the sidewalk.
He steps closer, his chin lifted in challenge. “We should talk.”
I stop, adjusting my grip on the books under my arm. “About what?”
“About you and Olivia, of course.” He takes another step forward, close enough that I can see the vein pulsing at his temple.
His voice drops, taking on what I assume he thinks is a knowing tone.
“There’s no way Olivia loves you. She didn’t get over me that fast. It’s not even been a year.
” His smile turns smug, satisfied, like he’s just delivered a devastating blow. “She’s using you. You’re her rebound.”
I study him for a moment, and then I smile. “You said something similar before,” I say pleasantly. “Or was it your girlfriend?”
Chase’s smugness falters. “I’ve been with Olivia for ten years. I know her better than anyone ever could.” He puffs out his chest slightly. “You’re not her type.”
The laugh that escapes me is genuine, if cold. “If you’re trying to tell me her type is you—a selfish boyfriend who can’t look past his nose and admire the achievements of the woman he claims to love, and a cheater on top of that—then I would say her type has gone through a transformation.”
His face flushes an ugly red, blotchy and spreading down his neck.
Somewhere down the street, a cheerful holiday tune starts playing from the speakers mounted to the lampposts. The melody feels absurdly out of place against the tension crackling between us.
I shift the books, settling them more comfortably. “Actually, I forgot to thank you.”
“Thank me?” His voice comes out strangled.
“I’ve been waiting for you to screw up.” The words come easy, honest. “So I could show Olivia how a real man will treat her. You provided me with the opportunity.” The color drains from his face like someone pulled a plug. White. Bloodless.
Perfect.
I lean in, close enough that my breath clouds between us.
Close enough that he has to tilt his head back slightly to meet my eyes.
“Olivia has upgraded in every sense,” I murmur, my voice low and lethal.
“She went from a small-town vet who can’t keep it in his pants to a self-made billionaire who can’t see anybody but her. ”
I straighten, putting distance between us again. Chase looks like he might be sick right here on Main Street.
“Unlike you,” I say, my tone returning to something almost conversational, “I plan to keep Olivia.” I pause, letting that sink in. “You should focus on Amber. I’m sure she must be worth it.” The last part is said scathingly, and I feel a sharp sense of satisfaction when Chase flinches.
I step around him, my shoulder brushing his as I pass. He doesn’t move, doesn’t try to stop me. Just stands there in the falling snow, frozen. Good.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I walk. I pull it out, expecting a text from Olivia. It’s not exactly her.
Sophie: ‘we ran into Amber and her friends at lunch. there was an argument. olivia got tipsy. we’re ten minutes from the house’
My jaw tightens. I type back immediately.
Me: ‘I’m on my way home.’
I pocket my phone and turn, heading back toward the Hartley house. My strides are long, purposeful. The books under my arm feel suddenly heavy, but I don’t slow down.
What the hell happened?
I jog home briskly despite my attire and reach the driveway just as Carol’s car pulls up, tires crunching on the fresh snow. Carol gets out first, her expression frazzled in a way I haven’t seen before. Her usually neat hair is slightly disheveled, and she’s wringing her hands.
“Alexander, thank goodness.” She moves around to the passenger side. “Can you look after Olivia? She’s had a few drinks. Nothing terrible, but she’s a bit buzzed. I have a customer emergency at the shop, and I need to take Sophie with me—”
“I’ve got her,” I say, already moving toward the car. Carol opens the passenger door, and Olivia steps out. Mostly steady on her feet, but there’s a brightness to her eyes and a flush to her cheeks that tells me Sophie wasn’t exaggerating.
She looks up at me and winks. “Hey, handsome.”
Despite everything, despite my anger at whatever happened with Amber, despite the worry coiling in my gut, I can’t help but smile. “Oh, you’re very drunk.”
She holds up her thumb and forefinger, pinching them close together. “Just a teensy weensy bit.”
From the backseat, Sophie rolls her eyes. “She had two cocktails and broke Amber’s phone. It was epic.”
Carol gives me an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t be.” I slide my arm around Olivia’s waist, steadying her. “Take care of your emergency. I’ll take care of her.”
Relief floods Carol’s features. “Thank you. We’ll be back in a few hours.”
Sophie slides into the front seat, and Carol hurries back around to the driver’s side. They pull away, leaving me standing in the driveway with Olivia leaning comfortably against my side.
“Come on, my little drunk,” I murmur, guiding her toward the house. “Let’s get you inside.”
She hums, her hand slipping into my coat pocket. “You’re warm.”
“You’re cold.”
“Not anymore.”
I bite back a smile as I maneuver us through the front door and up the stairs. She’s perfectly capable of walking, but she stays pressed against me like she doesn’t want any distance between us.
In her bedroom, I ease her down onto the bed. She sits, looking up at me with those bright hazel eyes, her inhibitions clearly lowered but her gaze sharp and focused.
I kneel in front of her, reaching for the zipper of her coat. “Let’s get you comfortable.” She watches me work the zipper down, her gaze fixed on my face with an intensity that makes my mouth dry. Once the coat is off, I toss it over the chair in the corner and reach for her boots.
“I broke Amber’s phone,” she announces, a note of satisfaction in her voice.
My hands still on her boot’s laces. “Really? Why?”
Her expression shifts, anger flashing across her features. Her lower lip trembles slightly, and I recognize it’s not from alcohol but from genuine hurt. I look up at her, gentling my voice. “Why did you break her phone, Olivia?”
“When I came home last year...” Her voice is steady but tight. “Before I found out about the cheating, Chase and I spent the night at his place.” My entire body goes rigid. The thought of her with him, of them together like that, sends a hot spike of jealousy through me.
She continues, her words clear and precise despite the alcohol loosening her usual control.
“Amber played an audio message. From Chase. The next morning after I left.” Her eyes burn, tears threatening to spill.
“He was mocking me. My skills in bed. Mimicking me.” The rage that floods through me is white-hot and immediate.
I force myself to breathe. To keep my hands steady on her boots.
“She played it for the entire restaurant to hear.” A tear slips down her cheek. “Her friends were laughing. And she said—she said you’d tire of me, too.”
“How did you destroy the phone?” My voice comes out rougher than I intend.
“I dunked it in the fancy fish tank.” A defiant smile tugs at her lips. “At the restaurant. The koi looked confused.”
“Good.” I finish unlacing her boots and set them aside carefully. “I’ll deal with Amber.”
“I already dealt with her.” She wipes at her face. “But she’s not going to take this lying down. She asked me if that’s how I got my job, actually. By spreading my legs.”
I can hardly contain my anger any longer.
I lean forward, my hands bracing on either side of her thighs, my face inches from hers.
“What do you want to do?” My voice is deadly quiet.
“If you want me to deal with Amber, I’ll tank her father’s entire business.
I’ll set up a competitive car showroom and drive him out of business. ”
Her eyes widen. “You’d really go that far for me?”
I take her hand, bringing it to my lips. I press a kiss to her palm. She sucks in a sharp breath, her fingers curling slightly against my mouth. I see her pupils dilate, the flush on her cheeks deepening.
I hold her hand against my cheek, my eyes never leaving hers. “There’s nothing I won’t do for you.”
“Why?” The word is barely a whisper, breathless.
“Do you really not know?” I search her face, willing her to see what I’ve been trying to show her all week. Her cheeks flush deeper, and she looks away briefly before meeting my eyes again. Her breathing has quickened, and I can feel her pulse racing where my fingers rest against her wrist.
“What will it be?” I ask, slowly getting to my feet.
“I can take my own revenge.” Her jaw sets with determination, though her voice has gone slightly husky. “But nothing in that voicemail was true. I’m not bad in bed. I’m not all those things Chase said.”
Before I can respond, she grabs my shirt and pulls.
Hard. She’s perched on the edge of the bed, and the sudden force sends her tipping backward.
I fall forward with her, catching myself at the last second with my hands planted on either side of her head.
The muscles in my arms tense with the effort of not touching her, of maintaining that torturous sliver of space between us.
She’s breathing hard beneath me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her hair fans out across the pale purple comforter, dark waves that frame her flushed face. Those hazel eyes are wide, pupils blown, staring up at me with determination and something that looks dangerously like want.
“Of all the people to believe Amber, I don’t want you to be one of them.” Her gaze is direct, challenging.
I smile despite the desire flooding my veins, despite the fact that I’m hovering over her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body but not close enough to touch. “I don’t.”
Her gaze drops to my lips, lingering there before meeting my eyes again. Her hands slide up my chest. “I want to prove her wrong.”
All the blood in my body rushes south. I force myself to speak, to be rational, even as my eyes keep wandering to her soft pink lips. “You’ve been drinking.”
“You didn’t have any problem kissing me when I was drunk at the airport,” she counters, her voice husky but clear. Her arms slide around my neck.
The memory hits me. Her soft and pliant in my arms at that bar, tasting like whiskey and need. “This time I won’t be able to settle for just a kiss,” I warn her.
“So?” Her chin lifts defiantly.
“So I’m not taking advantage of you when you’re drunk.” I start to push myself up, to put distance between us before I lose what little control I have left.
Her arms tighten around my neck, and she declares, “Fine. Then I’m taking advantage of you.” Before I can react, she arches up and captures my mouth with hers.
And every rational thought flies out of my brain.