Chapter 37
CHAPTER 37
OLIVIA
T he work week went by in a flash, and before I even knew it, it was the day of my date with Charlie. In some ways, it felt like it had taken an eternity to get here. All week long, I’d missed him more than I cared to admit.
In other ways, however, getting to work on their account and watching the footage we’d filmed so often had made it race by. I felt like I’d learned more about him by helping to stitch together the content. Even though I’d been there for the filming and I’d seen it all go down in real life, there was something about watching those moments over and over again that made me feel closer to him.
While it had been happening, I hadn’t seen the way the corners of his eyes tightened when any other man looked at me. I’d noticed him cutting those sharp looks at Dave, but I’d missed the more subtle tells.
Not only the corners of his eyes tightening, but his muscles tensing sometimes or even just a slight flare of his nostrils while I was joking around with his brothers. The cowboy was possessive with a capital P and I was here for it.
In a big way.
It gave me all the flutters. The tingles. The whatever elses that made a girl feel so swoony and special that she just wanted to climb a man like a tree and have his babies. Not that I was interested in babies right now, but eventually?
I’d be damned if I don’t suddenly want to have them with a man who would probably destroy the world to protect them.
New York baddie I might be, but it was nice to know that he felt strongly enough about whatever was happening between us that it could elicit those kinds of reactions from him. Far from making me feel like a damsel in distress, it made feel dainty and feminine— and more powerful than ever before. Because he cared that much. He was that interested. In a city girl he hadn’t wanted anywhere near him. In me .
It didn’t hurt that he smelled earthy and masculine, or that I loved the flannel and jeans he wore. More than that, I really, really loved the way he made me feel.
When we were around each other, he was totally locked in on me and I couldn’t get enough of that. I’d come to the conclusion that as a strong personality myself, there was nothing wrong with appreciating that same characteristic in the man I was interested in.
I wanted a husband one day. Not a doormat. A man who was my equal. My partner. A man who could keep up with me in a boardroom and a bedroom.
Charlie and I weren’t even nearly at the point where I should’ve been thinking about him as potential husband material, but hey. If it walked like a duck and talked like a duck, then there was every possibility that it was, in fact, a duck.
We’ll see how it goes.
All I knew was that I was thoroughly enjoying getting to know him and I was extremely excited for our date tonight. But that was nine hours away.
Until then, London and I were planning on hitting up a morning yoga class and then getting our nails done together. With everything that had been going on lately, learning all about the Houston branch and the people in it, getting to know the Ranch, and prepping for the conference coming up, I hadn’t had much time just to go to yoga and take care of myself.
It was a cardinal sin in my books. Self-care and sister time had always been part of my list of top priorities, and I’d been neglecting both lately.
As I tightened my ponytail, a knock came at my door and I smiled. That had to be my sister.
Although I wished Abigail could’ve been with us too, I was really looking forward to spending time with London. I missed Abi, but happily, I’d be getting to see her in just a few more days as well.
Upbeat and in high spirits, I strode through the pools of natural morning light streaming in through my windows and smiled. Today is going to be a damn good day.
London grinned when I opened the door, big black sunglasses covering her eyes and wearing a tight-fitted black tank that left a piece of her midriff exposed. On the bottom, she wore capri-length yoga pants—also black—with stylish black sneakers on her feet.
Her lips bore a smudge of clear gloss, but her skin was otherwise clear of makeup. In her left hand, she clutched a glittery, pale gold thermos, and in her right, she twirled her car keys around her finger.
“You ready to go, big sis?” She popped a bubble with the gum she was chewing and stepped aside so I could lock up.
I looked her over, feeling the smile on my lips soften. “Texas hasn’t really changed you at all, has it?”
Her brow puckered above the dark sunglasses. “Why should it have? I’m always going to be me, Liv. No matter where I go.”
I chuckled, torn between envying my little sister’s attitude toward life and having even more appreciation for the way I’d relaxed a bit since we’d arrived. The rat race up north had really been getting to me. The pressure to look perfect, be perfect.
But London hadn’t been caught in it as long as I had, nor had she ever had the same weight of responsibility on her shoulders. I stepped out into the bright spring sunshine and quickly locked the door behind me.
“I love you,” I said instead of commenting. “Never change. I, for one, am glad you’re always going to be you.”
She tossed her arm around my shoulders in a sideways hug and we walked toward my car. “Well, I’m glad you feel that way. Liam sure as hell would love it if I changed.”
I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. “Are you sure about that? I’m not.”
A loud scoff huffed out of her. “Trust me, that guy cannot stand me, but the feeling is mutual, so there.”
I decided not to prod her about it. Clearly, her mind was made up, and as much as I was sure there was something brewing between them, I was also sure that she wasn’t ready to see it just yet. As we reached my car, she darted back to her own to grab her gym bag, and then we took off.
Our morning together turned into everything I’d hoped it would be, including sweating ourselves silly at yoga, drinking yummy but elaborately named coffees that Charlie would never touch, and then having our nails painted in matching, shocking orange to celebrate the springtime.
“I love this color!” London squealed when we left the salon, extending one hand ahead of her and snapping a picture of her fingers with the other. She quickly uploaded it to her social media, then stashed her phone and turned to give me a smug smile. “What do you think Cowboy Charlie will have to say about it? I know you want him to think it’s pretty, but will he?”
“I don’t care,” I said, but the words weren’t even all the way out of my mouth yet before I realized they weren’t true. “I love it and they’re my nails, so whether or not he thinks they’re pretty is irrelevant, but sure. I do want him to think that.”
She giggled and grabbed my arm. “Do you know what else I love?”
“Lattes.”
“Yeah.” She paused and crinkled her nose before she let out another giggle. “Fine, I do love those as well, but what I love most is seeing you with a crush.”
I scrunched my entire face up at her. “What? You’ve seen me with a crush before. It’s not a big deal, and I’m not even sure if it is a crush.”
It could also be fascination with the ruggedly sexy, older rancher whose callused hands felt like a dirty dream on my skin and who was so stubborn himself that he could handle the same thing from me without breaking a sweat. Infatuation. That’s what it’s called, isn’t it? An intense but short-lived fascination with someone. Yeah, that’s definitely it.
London bumped her hip into mine as we walked, snapping me right out of my thoughts. “No, I definitely haven’t seen you with this kind of crush before. You were a lot more structured when you started dating Todd. There was no blushing or giggles. It was more… businesslike.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that.” It was true, but still. “Again, I don’t even know if this is a crush. It’s probably just good old lust, a sizzling attraction that will burn itself out in no time.”
It didn’t really feel like that, but at this point, I had no idea what else to say. London lifted a manicured brow at me before sliding her sunglasses back on. We left the mall. On our way back to my place, I couldn’t help but think of what she’d said though. Excitement and anticipation for tonight made my heart race, but there was something else there too.
Fear, perhaps. Fear of rejection. God, it’d hurt when he said those things about me.
I’d forgiven him, and now that I had the context, I knew he hadn’t at all said what I’d thought he had, but that didn’t change the pain I’d felt when I’d heard it. Please don’t wind up being a dick, Charlie Anderson. Please?
After we got back to my place, London had a quick drink and begged off, leaving me alone to get ready for my date. She would have stayed if I’d asked her to, but I hadn’t. I needed some time to arrange my thoughts into some kind of logical order.
Once she was gone, I started by taking a long, hot shower, scrubbing everywhere twice after that yoga session, and shaving carefully until I was sure I wasn’t prickly at all. Not anywhere.
With that done, I dried my hair, wrapped a satin robe around myself, and headed to my closet, fighting myself on what to wear. The choices were pretty simple, either flannel and boots, or my favorite dress and heels.
A couple weeks ago, I would have gone for the flannel, but tonight, I wanted to be myself. But I also couldn’t help remembering the way Charlie had looked at me in that hat and I wondered if he’d want me in the flannel instead.
In the end, I decided I was going to take a page out of London’s book and go as myself. If we were ever going to become anything more than we were right then, there was no reason to give him the wrong idea.
I slipped on my dress and my heels and applied my makeup with a light hand. Just after I was done, I heard a knock at the door. My heart skipped, my palms suddenly sweaty. Goosebumps broke out across my skin.
Oh my gosh. He’s here. He actually came. He’s freaking here!
Inhaling deeply in a futile effort to control my racing heart, I tried to keep my steps measured as I walked from my bedroom to my front door. I opened it to find Charlie dressed a lot nicer than usual, clean, untorn, dark jeans hanging from his hips and a crisp white, button-down shirt with the top button undone stretching across the broad, strong planes of his torso.
My mouth dried up even before I lifted my gaze up—and up a little more—to look into his face. A thrill shot through me at how much taller he was even when I was wearing these heels. A much more intense, much sexier thrill shot through me when, as I watched, his mouth dropped open. He raked his eyes all over me and his jaw tightened, a soft grunt escaping him before he brought those brilliant blues back to mine.
“Wow, Liv,” he murmured so softly that I almost didn’t even hear him. “You look beautiful.”
I shivered, hearing him call me Liv in such a husky, reverent tone of voice. While he’d been calling me that fairly often since Honky Tonks, I’d never heard him say it quite like that—and in my regular life, only the people who loved me called me by that nickname.
To hear him say it like he might join the ranks of those people? Wow is the correct expression here.
I smiled. “You look pretty good yourself, Cowboy. Do you want me to do a little twirl for you, or are you just about ready to go?”