Chapter 6 #2
Mustering what little strength I still have in my reserves, I straighten my shoulders and try to act like I like my husband.
Even I’m not good enough to pull off love yet.
“We’ve been seeing each other for a while now, but Logan thought it was better if we kept things quiet until we knew where this was going.
At least that way, we’d know whether the media storm that was inevitable when they find out we were together would be worth it or not.
We figured if we’d broken up first, then no one would be the wiser. ”
“And you what?” Waver sputters. “You just never broke up? So, marrying her seemed like a good plan?”
I look up at Logan, waiting for an answer that never comes before forcing my gaze back to Waverly’s. “Yes.”
Logan gets on board quickly and leans down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Like I said, wife.” His words are barely above a whisper. “You’re frighteningly good at this.”
To the outsiders in the room, it probably looks like we can’t keep our hands off each other.
Guess that’s a good thing.
“Oh gross.” Waverly gags, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Stop. I’ve never seen you kiss a woman.”
“Never?” I cock a brow. “Into men before me, husband?”
“Fuck no. Just never been into bringing anyone home before you, wife.”
“You should have been around in college, Waves. Logan was a manwhore,” Rafe adds, even though I’m pretty sure he’s rewriting history.
“Hmm . . . That’s not exactly how I remember it, Rafe,” I laugh at the player who broke my roommate’s heart first semester. I might not know these men well now, but I knew them then.
“Semantics.” He shrugs.
“Not what that means, Langley.” Playing the part of the sister-in-law comes more naturally than I expected. At least playing it the way my siblings, their spouses, and I all interact with each other does . . . Sarcastic and merciless comes naturally in my family.
“She’s got you there, you idiot,” Waverly groans. “Forgive my brothers for being boneheads and me for my shock, but it appears Logan has been keeping some pretty big secrets.”
Her words seem kind, but her posture screams disbelief.
We haven’t won her over.
Not yet.
“I knew,” Rafe tosses out there, and his brother and sister look like they’re ready to murder him and Logan both.
Waverly growls at her brother before walking over to the stove and sliding a tea kettle onto a burner.
I’m almost certain she’s not buying this.
She’s probably playing along to catch us in a lie.
This might be harder than we thought. “Rafe may have known, but the last time I heard your name, Logan was saying you cost him the contract he’d been fighting for.
I think it’s safe to say we weren’t expecting him to bring you home as his wife. ”
“Waverly—” Logan starts, but his sister isn’t having it.
“How about you put Maggie to bed, Logan, and I’ll make us all some tea while Olivia fills Jasper and me in on everything.”
The way Waverly says that sounds almost like a question, but honestly, I kind of expect her head to spin three-hundred-and-sixty degrees like she’s something from The Exorcist.
She doesn’t believe us, and I’m not sure that I blame her.
Shit.
We’ve got to get it together or we’re screwed before we even start.
Logan
Ipush open my bedroom door later that night, letting Olivia enter before me. “Well, that went well.”
“Sarcasm, Olive?” I ask, as I take her bags and toss them to the chair in the corner of the room.
No part of that went well.
My brother and sister basically just interrogated us like they were on some TV cop show and we were the perps of the week. I half expected them to turn off the lights in the kitchen and hold a flashlight over our heads. “They’re definitely suspicious.”
“Understatement.” She walks further into the room and leans against the tall dresser, a sigh slipping past her lips as she slips off her heels and drops at least three inches.
“Damn.” I cross the room in two strides, closing the distance between us and leaning next to her. “How short are you?”
Her shoulders drop, and her eyes raise with annoyance, and it’s fucking adorable. “How clueless are you?”
“Touché.” I put my hands up between us in surrender, not in the mood to spar tonight. “Whatever. I don’t have the fucking energy for this, Olive.”
“My name is Olivia, Adler,” she snaps through gritted teeth, looking around the space.
“That’s what I said earlier. This whole thing would be easier if you’d just take my name.
” I know that’s not what she meant, but fucking hell, I can’t help myself.
Teasing her is just so much fun. “Kidding,” I warn when the look thrown my way threatens bodily harm.
“I’m fucking exhausted. Can we not fight tonight? ”
She eyes me critically, like she’s not sure we’re capable of getting along, even for a night. “Like a truce?”
“Pretty sure our marriage certificate is the truce, Olivia.” I unbutton my shirt, and what is this . . . ? Is Little Miss Tightass watching me? “My eyes are up here, wife.”
Her cheeks flame as she shakes her head. “Don’t flatter yourself, Logan.”
“Whatever you say.” Oh, she was watching, and she liked what she saw, whether she admits it or not. “I don’t have the energy left to argue, and Maggie has been having a hard time sleeping the past week or so, so she’s due to wake up soon. I’m going to bed.”
“What . . .” she sputters. “Where?”
I look around my room. It’s not massive, but it’s not exactly modest either. Hell, it’s ten times bigger than the room I had in the caretaker’s house I shared with Pops most of my life. “Right there.” I point at the bed. “Were you expecting two?”
“I—” She cuts herself off, her eyes shifting between the bed and the chair her bags rest on before her chin rises in defiance.
I swear to God, if this woman wasn’t such a pain in the ass, I’d bend her over the bed right now, but Olivia St. James is probably like one of those female insects who fucks you, then eats you after.
What the hell is that? A grasshopper? No . . . that’s not right.
“Where exactly do you plan on sleeping, Logan?”
“What?” I ask, still trying to remember what bug I’m thinking of. I know I saw it on the discovery channel at some point. “I’m sleeping on the bed. You’re more than welcome to crash on the chair or the floor if the idea of sleeping next to me is beneath you, Olive. But I’m sure as shit not.”
A wave of red doesn’t so much creep up her chest and neck to her face as it rushes up in an angry crimson wave. Her green eyes practically bug the fuck out of her pretty head just as I snap, “A praying mantis.”
“What are you talking about?” she steams.
Yeah . . . even I’m not dumb enough to fill her in on that one. “Nothing. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. Put a row of pillows between us if it’ll make you feel better, Olive, but I promise you, your virtue is safe with me.”
“It’s not my virtue I’m worried about, you shit.
” Her words are growled as I start to wonder just how bad an idea this might have been.
“Try to remember who my father is. I might not love MMA the way he does, but there was no way he was letting his daughters grow up unable to defend themselves.” Her eyes trail down from my face to my cock and settle there.
“I know all the soft spots to hit if you get a little too . . . touchy.”
“Not a problem, little ice queen. The only touching we’ll be doing is in front of people who expect us to touch.”
“Ugh . . .” she groans. “I loathe you.”
I walk over to the en suite bath and look back. “Loathe you too, Olive.”
The door shuts, and I’m pretty sure the thunk I hear is one of her fancy-ass red-soled shoes hitting it. Bet she wishes it was my head.