17. Olivia
OLIVIA
Our footsteps echo as we move through the barn, this once-grand skeleton that bears my family name.
The floors creak beneath us, warped and uneven like old memories.
We speak over the restless structure, over the dripping water and its complaints.
A stray shaft of light catches Ace’s hair as he measures a sagging beam, his hands steady.
Mine clutch the frayed blueprint of a crumbling dream, and my voice rises above the creaking timbers: “We need to secure these beams before we touch the permits.” The measuring tape snaps back into place, a brief, metallic protest. Ace jots something on the clipboard, his brows knitting together.
“If these supports go, nothing else will hold.”
“And what about those permits?” I nod toward the mess of papers scattered across a dusty work table, half smothered by old toolboxes and memories best left alone.
Ace doesn’t answer right away. He’s still the same in that way, always needing to see something through before speaking his mind.
I study him for a moment, the set of his shoulders beneath the worn fabric of his shirt, the steadiness of his hands as they work their way down the wood.
I can’t tell if he looks different or if it’s only me, the barn, the past and the future twisting in the heat.
“We’ll get this sorted.”
The water plinks into a growing puddle, and I step over it as I pace toward the barn’s southern wall.
Ace follows, notebook and pen now a part of his hand.
My loan through the bank won’t cover all the costs for repairs, but since the charity event, I do have some investors that might be interested.
Wedding venues are new in our area and can bring more tourists to our small town.
So, I just have to make sure that I have all my ducks in a row. Only one shot to seize the deal.
“This wall’s barely hanging on. Same for the roof and crossbeams, too.” I turn, find him watching me. There’s something in his eyes I can’t quite pin down, but I’ve seen it before. He writes in his usual neat scrawl, faster now, listing each problem without hesitation.
“How much of this place do you want to tear apart, Liv?” His voice has that low, warm note to it, the one that sneaks up on me, melts through my intentions.
“As much as we need to,” I say, holding his gaze longer than I should.
We move down the length of the barn, making an inventory of its deterioration, my determination, his resolve.
Dust coats our hands as we mark the damage, every board and beam sagging with neglect.
Each time we talk over another flaw, each time we seem to agree, I wonder what we’re really deciding.
Ace folds his arms, considers my stubbornness like it’s one more thing on his list. We stop near a pile of tools, a jumbled testament to unfinished work.
My dad used to spend time out here and he’s one that always has a project going. He planned on fixing up this barn, but never had the chance. Everywhere on this property are memories with him.
“That’s everything on the south side,” he says. “No point looking at the rest till we secure what we have.” There’s no challenge in his voice, only the patience that sometimes made me want to scream and kiss him at the same time. I brush a layer of dust from the table, watch it settle again.
“I remember you being less careful,” I say, not meaning to.
“I remember you being less reckless.” His words land somewhere between a joke and a dare. It doesn’t feel like an argument, even if that’s what it should be. It feels like the kind of thing we’re used to. Too used to.
The back and forth between us since we casually started sleeping together has been mind boggling. At a certain point, after that many years, you have to feel something for the other person. But things have been different. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes he is still a pain in the ass, but I love him.
Eight years of mind blowing sex with this man and moments where he brought me to my knees… and I’m scared of loving him. He gave up his dream for me in a way. It’s a grand gesture if I’ve ever heard of one, so does that mean he loves me too?
“We should divide things up,” he says. His voice is lighter, teasing. “Or does the Bougie Cowgirl do it all herself these days?”
I feign a seriousness I don’t feel. “She might,” I say. “But she’d rather have a good hand on the job.” The words hover between us, charged and dangerous, sparking all the wrong feelings in all the right ways. I don’t know whether I mean him or the barn.
“Let’s call it a day for now. I’m starving.” I take his hand and lead him out of the barn and toward the house. “You wanna stay for dinner?”
“If you have to ask, then you don’t know me as well as you think. I can always eat. It’s like my superpower.”
We walk into the house, but he doesn’t even make it into the kitchen before he’s pushing me up against the wall. His face is an inch from mine.
“So, how about a shower, huh”?” Ace asks, his hand finding mine and pulling me toward the bathroom, and turning the handle.
“You are in a great mood, aren’t ya?” I watch him as he takes off his clothes, but his eyes are locked on mine. His shoulders and chest are so fucking sexy.
“Don’t make me feel awkward here.”
I take off my shirt and then my bra. His eyes drink me in, as each piece of clothing falls to the floor.
“You are fucking astonishing, Liv.” His lips crashed against mine and then he pulls us into the shower, hands on each other. “All these years I’ve wondered when I would finally have the balls to say something, and now I get to have you in my arms… luckiest fucking man alive.”
His hand falls between my legs, but his lips never leave mine. This man is going to be the death of me, because he picks me up and pushes me against the wall easing himself into me. A moan escapes my throat and then all hell breaks loose.
My nails dug into his back and he pounds into me, and I get closer and closer to climax.
He has always been amazing about knowing exactly what my body needs and giving it to me with certainty.
The way his fingers find just the right spot inside, or the way he knows just how to kiss my collarbone to make me shiver.
“I’ve been waiting two days to feel you come on my dick and I’m not waiting another second. Come like a good girl, Liv.”
All it takes is hearing my name on his lips and I explode, riding him through the intense wave.
He waits for me to stop writhing and eases me back to ground with a huge grin. “I’ll never get used to that.”
After we wash up, I get dressed and he puts on the same clothes since he doesn’t have any here. “Maybe you should bring some clothes to have here in case this becomes a habit.”
“Do you plan on letting me stay often? I’ll never say no to falling asleep next to you.”
Okay, am I rushing things? No, we’ve been doing this for eight years. We know the sexual part of this relationship is on par, and honestly he has treated me better than any other man has… why delay the inevitable?
“I’d love for you to stay here tonight.”
He smiles and takes out his phone. “Just shooting Gavin a text that I’ll come there and grab some stuff.”
“You aren’t staying at the Montgomery ranch anymore?” When he explains what happened with his father, my jaw is on the floor. He finally stood up for himself. It’s about fucking time.
“I’m gonna run to Gavin’s and I’ll be back. Also, I think I’ll see if I can round up some helpers for tomorrow. If we get some help, we can get that barn up to par faster.”
He plants a kiss on my lips, and walks right out of the door. That’s my man.
***
They roll in just after sunrise, boots clack on the wooden steps, the same steps I remember sitting on as a child while chewing homemade jerky and listening to Daddy’s stories.
Today, I’m all business. A handshake here, a “Let’s get to work” there.
Ace stands ready by the red utility truck, directing a small group to unload paint cans and tools.
A woman with streaked gray hair claps me on the shoulder. “Gonna need more than elbow grease to get this old barn in shape!”
“Got plenty of that and then some,” I say, flashing her a grin. “Just you watch.”
I watch them spread out across the yard, families and friends already laughing. I’m wound so tight I don’t notice Ace until he’s standing right beside me, his strong presence hard to miss.
My younger self, more at ease with horses than humans. That girl didn’t worry about the mortgage or modernization; she just wanted to ride. I watch Ace, already deep in conversation with a group of older men.
One volunteer, wiry and spry, raises his hands to the sky. “Did you see this many folks out when we painted the old church last spring?”
Another one, older with a sun-creased face, spits tobacco with precision. “Church wasn’t giving away a horse trailer. Plus George was a good man and helping restore this barn would mean so much to him.”
Laughter breaks like a wave, and I catch Ace’s eye. “Think we bit off more than we can chew?” he teases.
I shake my head, determination clinging to every word. “I’ve got a big mouth.”
The trucks keep coming, rattling in with loose chains and stubborn engines.
It’s all dust and noise and barely controlled chaos.
Serena hangs a bright orange banner off the side of her van that reads “FIXER-UPPER DAY!” She’s out as soon as the vehicle stops, blonde hair catching the light, and runs over to join me.
“We sure got ourselves a crowd!”
“Better than I hoped for.”
Serena hugs me, then dashes off to help Gavin.
I watch him move through the crowd, every bit as easygoing as I remember.
He’s scribbling names on his clipboard, all charm and chatter, checking in with folks like they’re lifelong friends, which most of them are.
He knows how to make people feel important, a skill I envy and admire. He grins and waves as I walk by.