Chapter 23 Olivia
OLIVIA
Sin’s eyes bug out of their sockets, disbelief morphing into curiosity. “Hold on—what?”
Her troubled expression makes me shrink a little and I look away, fiddling with a stray napkin on the counter. I don’t need her approval.
“I’m going on a date with Mrs. Preston’s nephew. She’s been hounding me for weeks, so I caved.”
Her blonde brows rocket to her hairline. “Shut up. You couldn’t just tell her you have a boyfriend?”
“But I don’t.” I try to ignore my cringe at the juvenile word.
Her look sharpens. “But you slept with Sam, right?”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I don’t even bother answering.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Liv, you’re not a one-night-stand kind of woman. So tell me, how is this supposed to work?”
“What do you mean?” The question buys me time because I know exactly what she’s getting at. I just don’t want to say it aloud.
She crosses her arms, unconvinced. “If you and Sam are sleeping together, it’s not casual.”
“It’s just a fling.” My voice lacks conviction. A weird queasiness bubbles up in my stomach, twisting tight.
“Does Sam know that?”
Her tone’s deceptively light, but her eyes are sharp, cutting right through me. She’s stopped pretending to get the snacks ready—her full attention’s locked on me now.
“Well…we haven’t exactly said it.” I fidget from foot to foot. “But…”
“So let me ask you this.” Her hands land on her hips. “Does he think you’re exclusive?”
My silence fills the room.
Sam and I have never had the conversation, not in those blunt, defining terms. And I’m not sure I want to, because I already know what he’d say. Or what I’m afraid he’d say.
My best friend guards me like prey. Like she’s ready to pounce if I don’t admit the obvious.
“Okay.” She’ s reluctant to relent. “Then what if Sam started seeing someone else? Say…Miss Yasmine Thibault.”
The name alone sparks something primal in me. A growl slips from between my lips before I can stop it, my fists balling tight.
One corner of Sin’s mouth rises as her eyes flicker with a smug satisfaction. “Didn’t think so.”
“It’s casual.” My tone is defensive, my body language even more so. “It can’t be anything more.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not starting another relationship,” I say, the words tumbling out fast now, half defiant, half afraid. “I’m almost two years on my own and I like it. I’m good at it. I don’t want some man defining my life again. Been there, done that, not going back.”
Her brows rise, offended. “And you think Colin defines my life because I’ve been married to him for twenty years?”
“Oh, God, no. That’s not what I mean. I just—” My voice softens. “I don’t want to fall into the same trap again. I have no regrets about my life with Pete.”
Sin raises a brow, skeptical but silent.
“I don’t.” Why do I sound like I’m trying to convince myself more than anyone else. “I mean, sure, I wish some things were different, but I can’t regret my life with him. He gave me Drew and Paige. I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”
Sin’s expression softens immediately. “Aww, honey, of course not.”
My arms wrap around my middle. “Still, it feels wrong somehow. Weak. Like I’m betraying that version of myself who decided she could stand alone.
When I left Pete, I’d made peace with being single.
I didn’t think there was anyone out there who could give me what I wanted, and I was okay with that. I was happy on my own.”
I glance out the window again, my reflection overlapping Sam’s image outside. “I was more alone with Pete than by myself, and I was fine with it. It was freeing. Then Sam happened.
“And he could be…everything. He’s not perfect—no one is—but I’ve never had this before. Not even when things with Pete were good. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that. So, yeah, we’re keeping it casual.” I break eye contact, needing space from her scrutiny, from my own honesty.
Outside, Sam’s talking to Drew, Colin, and Finn. He’s completely unaware of Marci’s wide-eyed stare from the pool or the neighbors, Mrs. Sims and Mrs. Patterson, pretending not to look. Paige and Pippa exchange giggles, sneaking glances before turning away, red-faced.
Sin joins me at the glass, following my gaze. She arches a brow, amusement dancing in her expression.
“They’re human. And they’re teenage girls—well, mostly. You’d have to be dead, a lesbian, or blind not to look at him twice.” Her sly grin is matched only by the glint in her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
I huff a laugh, grateful for the levity.
Not long after, we carry out snacks and drinks to the patio. As I set the tray down, Sam’s head lifts. His smile spreads slow and wide, dimples deepening, eyes locked on me with a look that makes my pulse stutter.
Even with all my worries about the distance, and where this could possibly lead—I can’t fight the truth.
I can tell myself to keep my heart out of this, but then Sam Beaulieu walks toward me and every rule I made for myself falls apart.
I’m fully aware of the eyes on us. I don’t know who’s watching—neighbors, friends, maybe even my kids—but I know it’s mostly the women. And honestly, like Sin said, I can’t blame them.
“Damn.” Sam’s voice is low and gravelly as he leans close. “You in that bikini has me on fire.”
His breath is hot against my neck as his finger traces a slow, deliberate path from my collarbone down the curve of my arm to my wrist. My skin lights up under his touch, tingles racing across every inch of me. “And that’s saying a hell of a lot, since it’s already a scorcher today.”
A nervous, frayed giggle escapes before I can stop it. My knees weaken, and I grab his biceps—strong, warm, solid—to steady myself.
I brush a teasing fingertip along the waistband of his swim shorts, leaning in close. “Well, you’re pretty hot yourself.”
His abs tense beneath my touch, his grin turning wicked as his hands slide to my waist and pull me closer. “Uh-uh, you’re the hottest thing here.”
Before I can come up with a snarky reply, his tongue flicks against my skin, then his teeth graze my neck. “I think you need to cool off.”
My breath catches. A pulse of heat coils low in my stomach, my body screaming to forget everyone else and just give in.
But before I can either push him away or surrender completely, his words hits me and I pull back. “Wait… What?”
I don’t even get the chance to finish. The world tilts and then—
Splash.
Cold water shocks every nerve in my body as I hit the pool, shrieking, sputtering, and gasping while his deep, infectious laughter booms above me. When I surface, hair plastered to my face, he’s doubled over on the deck, laughing like a kid who just got away with murder.
“Sam.” I hurl water in his direction.
He wipes at his face and grins down at me, dimples on full display. “Worth it.”
And damn it, he’s right. It is worth it.
We stay for the barbecue, laughter and teasing carrying long into the evening until the sky turns indigo and the air hums with crickets. It’s after nine when we finally make it home, full and happy and sun-drunk.
Paige kicks off her flip-flops, glancing between us.
Drew heads for the stairs, pausing halfway up. “Hey, Sam, want to play some ball in the morning?”
Sam chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, I’d love to, but I don’t think I can swing it. By the time we play, I shower, check out, and make it to the airport, I’ll miss my flight.”
“Check out?” Drew frowns.
“At the hotel.”
Paige crosses her arms, head tilted. “Mom, why does Sam stay at a hotel when he comes to visit?”
“Um, I…”
“It’s stupid. He should stay here. It’s a waste of money.” Drew turns to me, eyes narrowing in challenge. “And if it’s because of us—Mom—we’re fine with Sam staying here.”
“Absolutely.” Paige emphatically nods.
I just stare at them, completely undone. These kids.
Sam’s eyes meet mine, amusement dancing behind the warm gleam. He doesn’t say a word; he just waits, letting me decide.
“Sam can stay the night.” I lock eyes with him.
That’s all he needs. His smile spreads slow and dangerous, dimples cutting deep into his cheeks. He steps inside, bag slung over his shoulder, and quietly closes the door behind him.
“D-man.” Sam may be talking to my son, but his gaze is still on me. “We’re on for ball.”
“Awesome.” Drew disappears upstairs, leaving the two of us standing in the entryway, electricity pulsating between us. His grin widens, pure trouble.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I ask, voice low.
He takes a step closer, close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off his skin. “Well, I could deny it, but what’s the point? Like I’ve said before, I love sleepovers.” He winks, then—because he’s Sam— he smacks my ass as he walks past.
I freeze, torn between laughing, scolding, and dragging him back. He glances over his shoulder, his grin pure sin.
No matter how much I try to keep this casual, it’s like the universe is conspiring against me—one teasing look, one playful touch at a time.
And maybe, just maybe, I don’t even want to fight it anymore.