Chapter 15 Olivia #2
We freeze at the top of the staircase. Sam’s warm forehead falls against mine as he exhales a frustrated groan that’s half laugh.
“Paige,” I whisper, horrified.
Then another voice filters up the stairs. Someone is talking to her and it sounds like Pete.
Sam sets me down and brushes his lips against my temple. “Go.”
He gifts me a grin that is somehow both understanding and unbearably sexy.
“Coming.” I pivot and descend, all the while hastily double-checking my clothes aren’t askew.
By the time I reach the front hall, I’ve smoothed my hair and my heartbeat, barely. Paige stands near the doorway with Pete. Fantastic. The universe really is out to get me.
“Hey.” I force a casual tone, praying I don’t look like I was moments away from coming undone.
Before I can say more, Paige beams, looking past me. “You’re that chef.”
Sam appears behind me, and Pete’s brows knit together.
“What?” I look from my daughter to the man I was kissing and itching to undress moments ago.
Taking a step toward them and deliberately away from Sam, I rack my brain for a plausible reason we would have been upstairs that doesn’t involve what we were actually doing.
A transient and stupid thought runs through my mind.
I could introduce him as a client. My office is upstairs, so it would make sense, but just as quickly, I dismiss the absurdity of the lie because they both know I don’t have clients to my home.
That’s why I rent office space on Bloor Street, so my clients can meet me there.
“You’re on The Chef’s Network,” Paige continues. “The restaurant show…hmm, something about cabbage? Mon Petit Chou.” She grins triumphantly. “That means ‘my little cabbage,’ right?”
Sam chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right.”
“You have a TV show?” I blurt, turning to him.
“Had. I didn’t renew for a fourth season.”
“You had a TV show? Why didn’t I know that?”
“I thought you did.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I figured you’d Googled me. Remember?” He winks.
Pete watches our odd and enlightening exchange and it’s uncomfortable. Why does he have to be here?
“I was joking when I talked about your flock of women. I didn’t actually. Ugh.” I throw my hands up. “I figured there’d be a fan page or twelve, but a whole show?”
Sam emits a hearty laugh, and Paige snickers like she’s in on this. My ex continues to stare, his features impassive, but he’s keenly interested.
“My flock of women?”
“Have you looked in the mirror?” I lob at him, my tone clipped, now feeling irritated more than anything else, and I’m not sure if it’s discovering his stardom or that my daughter knew when I didn’t.
My cheeks burn.
It also doesn’t help having my ex-husband and temperamental daughter watching us like we’re the hottest show on Netflix. Sam’s grin disappears, his face still mellow and now tender as he stands taller. With two short strides, he’s at my side. His arm slips around my waist, drawing me into his side.
He leans in, voice low enough that only I can hear. “You’re the only woman I want flocking to me.” Then, with another wink, he presses a soft kiss just behind my ear.
Then it clicks.
Cabbage.
His tattoo.
I so want to know what it all means.
Paige lets out a dramatic, “Ew,” before storming upstairs, and Pete mutters something under his breath that sounds like a growl.
Sam instantly steps back, muttering an apology as both Pete and I call to Paige, but she’s gone, thumping up the stairs.
“Liv.” Pete’s tone is stern. “May I have a word with you?” He flicks his hand over his shoulder toward the front yard. It’s not a question, even though he phrases it as one.
Shit, I am so not in the mood for this, for Pete and his lecture. Not now. Nodding, I briefly peer at Sam, who looks gravely contrite as he mouths, “Sorry.”
Outside on my walkway, Pete unexpectedly pivots to face me. His hands clamp down on my shoulders, halting my potential crash into him.
“Liv, what the hell?”
“Excuse me?” I rear back, shaking off his embrace.
“Who is that kid?”
“Pete, it’s none of your business. I don’t owe you an explanation, but Sam is a friend.”
“A friend? Since when do your friends make inappropriate PDA in front of your husband and daughter?” His anger is clear in his furious eyes, clenched hands, and impenetrable posture.
“Ex-husband. You keep forgetting that part,” I bite out. “And for the record, you showing up unannounced isn’t exactly ideal, either.”
He takes one step toward me, his eyes shifting downward to my lips. A long-forgotten lust clouds his gaze and his breath quickens. So help me, if he tries to kiss me, he’ll lose his balls. Fisting my hands, I widen my stance.
“Liv, don’t do this. Forget this nonsense. I don’t fucking care what a piece of paper says, you’ll always be my wife. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care what’s happened or who you’ve been with. I want you back.” His tone is heavy and exacting.
“Pete, stop. We’ve been through this before. We’re over.”
“I’m not giving up. I will get you back.”
“Pete, you need to leave. Now.” Twirling on my heels, I hurry to the front door, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.
We’ve done this dance way too many times for my liking. No movement of retreat sounds from behind me, but I’m not scared of Pete. He won’t hurt me, at least not physically. I only wish he’d leave.
If I weren’t focused on getting back to Paige, I’d laugh at Pete being ticked about Sam, like he has a right to give a damn. He never gave a rat’s ass when we were married.
“Liv,” he says, and I halt in my tracks, refusing to face him. “What about Paige?”
I turn around. Pete is a caring and loving parent, and his concern for his children is genuine.
“I’ll talk to her.” It’s all I have, all I can do, but it’s not much.
Pete knows what Paige and I have been going through, and he’s been nothing but supportive. Other men may have used this rough patch with Paige to drive a bigger wedge between us or to tear me down, but he’s been my biggest advocate. I’m grateful for that.
He nods, eyes weary. “That’s all I ask.”
With his hands shoved deep in his pockets, he turns and walks away. And for the first time in a long while, I don’t watch him go.