Chapter 20 #2
The Brand was situated at the end of Main Street. By the time I’d dropped the packages off at the truck and walked Olivia down the street, music was pouring from it. With every step, her hesitation became more pronounced, her pace slowing, her mood shifting.
I stopped us at the side of the building, far enough from the entrance to avoid gossiping glances.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her, seeing the worry back in her eyes.
“Nothing. Let’s go in.” She moved, but I boxed her in, smoothing my hands up her arms.
“Olivia, you’re in your head again.”
Hazel irises fractured with splatters of gold widened and confirmed my suspicion.
“I’m not in my head.”
The thought hit me that I had done this to her. Pushing her out of her comfort zone, challenging the woman she’d become, ignoring the signs that it might be too much. Lost in the euphoria of having her back in my life.
“Fuck.” I scraped my hand through my hair. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“About what? And watch your language.”
I gave her a frown before saying, “About this.” I gestured to the bar and then back to her. “All of it. Pretending you’re excited to have drinks with my ex and her husband.”
“I never said I was excited.”
“You never said anything to make me think you weren’t okay with it, Olivia.” But I should have known. If she’d asked me to do the same thing, I would have done it and hated every minute of it…if I survived the night without punching someone.
Her sigh came out fractured as she lowered her eyes. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? Something I did?” Shit, I sounded like a desperate man, pleading that I hadn’t screwed something up.
She rested her head on the brick wall, bringing her sight to mine. “I’m not sure who I am now.”
Her words struck me, and I tried not to reel back.
“I’m trying to be her again, the girl you fell in love with, but she’s been gone so long.
” Her eyes pleaded with me to understand as she continued.
“I want parts of her back, but there are parts of my life now that I don’t want to lose.
I love designer clothes and dresses that flatter my curves.
I love heels that make me taller than small men with big egos.
I love getting my nails done in pretty colors and having lattes with cute designs in the foam.
” A tear slipped from her eye, and she brushed it away with her fingers.
“But I like jeans and riding and being with you. I like who I am with you, Hudson.”
I eclipsed the space between us and took her face in my hands. “You never have to change those things for me, Olivia.”
“But you picked out this shirt, and I…I really hate it, even if it does make my boobs look great.”
I snickered, dropping my forehead to hers. “I picked that shirt out because I knew it would annoy you. ‘Course I figured it would make your chest look sexy, too, but I really just wanted to aggravate you.”
Fire flashed in her eyes. “And the necklace?”
“Do I look like I care about jewelry? It looked big and gaudy enough to clash with those sparkly diamonds you had on that day.” She brought her finger up to touch the turquoise stone that sat perfectly in her cleavage. “Although it’s pretty hot on you.”
With a laugh, she said, “I hate the cord but I don’t hate the stone.”
Silence washed over us for a beat before I pushed her hair behind her ear and said, “So you got all dressed up in clothes you hate to make me happy?”
“Maybe. But I don’t hate the boots or the jeans, and the socks are growing on me.”
Those damn cat socks. I shook my head and nudged her nose with mine. “What would make you happy right now, Olivia?”
Her eyes danced between mine as her lips parted. I knew what would make me happy, but this wasn’t about me.
“Going home, getting out of these clothes and curling up on the couch to watch one of those boring historical documentaries you have.”
There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in that answer or those eyes. Home. That was the word she’d used. Home as if it were our home, together. I liked the idea a little too much. “Those movies are not boring.”
She rolled her eyes as I pushed away from the wall and held my hand out to her.
“Let’s go home and get you comfortable. I’ve got a frozen pizza that has your name written all over it.” I slung my arm over her shoulder.
“Frozen pizza? That sounds horrible.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it. I might even have a box of wine somewhere in the pantry.”
“Now you’re just being downright insulting.”
I kissed her head, continuing to tease her about boxed wine until we got to my truck.
Once I had her settled inside, I hopped in and shot a quick text to Jessie, telling her we were bailing on them.
She’d understand, and she and Carl would spend the night dancing and drinking since Carl’s mother had the baby.
Reaching over, I took Olivia’s hand as I drove down the dark country roads to get back to the ranch. She’d gone quiet, and I worried she was back in her head, overthinking again. Worried she was thinking about the end of the week and not considering the possibilities the future held.
With a squeeze of my hand to hers, I said, “Don’t, Olivia.”
She turned to me, and I glanced over, seeing the truth that she was going down some rabbit hole of thoughts she couldn’t escape.
“I can’t…” She dropped her eyes and pulled her hand away. “What if I can’t be the girl you loved again?”
A stab of pain lanced through my chest. I pulled the truck to the side of the road, put it in park, and shifted in my seat to look at her.
“You don’t have to be her, Olivia. I’m not the same boy you fell in love with.
We’ve changed. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t glimpses of us left, the pieces that brought us together and brought us back to each other. ”
Taking her hand again, I wove my fingers through hers. Orbs of dusty shades of green and brown drifted to meet mine.
“Don’t be anything you aren’t, Olivia. Not for me. I’m not asking you to change because I promise you, I love every facet of you.”
“Even if it means you have to carry my suitcase up the stairs for me?”
My head went back with my laugh, the mood lifting with the glimmer of a smile she gave me. “Even if I have to carry everything up the stairs, including you.”
Fingers tangling in her hair, I brought her face forward and kissed her. There were so many layers to her that as each peeled away, I fell further in love with her. Small things she said and did that pulled me deeper into her orbit, just like when we were young.
“Ready to go home?” I asked.
“No,” she answered, pressing her hand on my chest. “But I’m ready to go home with you.”
The simple differentiation left my pulse thundering. A gleam of hope grew in the back of my mind that I could keep her, that I wouldn’t lose her this time. If I did, there was no way I’d survive.