Chapter 8
OLIVIA
If it doesn’t scare you, it doesn’t change you.
—Olivia’s Secret Thoughts
The humid air clings to me as I slowly make my way up the long stone pathway from the driveway to the front door of the Triple Crown.
Slowly because I don’t actually want to be here.
I’d rather be back in my house, in my bed, sleeping away this shitty day.
Unfortunately for me, this was my idea. Sort of.
I mean, it was my idea for Logan to find a wife. Not exactly for me to be the wife.
I stop at the arching, black double doors and peer through the windows.
Should I knock?
Walk in?
Text Logan?
Shit.
There was so much we should have discussed last night, but I was too damn tired to do it then.
Another thing I won’t be admitting to him.
It was easier to get changed while he was showering and climb into the side of the bed I assumed wasn’t his.
A video baby monitor and a small clock both sat on the other nightstand.
So I figured my assumption was safe, and when he got into that side after his shower, I also figured my assumption was right.
And maybe I faked sleep at first to avoid another confrontation, but sleep came fast enough.
At least it did until I got the call about Ryker.
I guess my long day is about to get longer.
I know if I was actually Logan’s wife, I’d be expected to walk right in, but that feels . . . wrong.
Olivia
I just parked. Should I walk in?
Logan
The front door is locked. Remind me to give you a key.
We all just sat down outside to eat. Come around back.
Come around back? So gentlemanly.
Olivia
Okay
I look longingly at the door one more time before wishing I could just go up to bed. But if everyone is together out back, that isn’t an option. Not yet. We’ve got to sell this, so I better dig deep and act like I want to be here instead of anywhere but here.
Taking my time, I follow the stone path beside the house, listening to laughter as I move closer to a black wrought-iron fence.
A gorgeous horse barn flanks one side of the property with split-rail fencing beyond that divides the luxurious-looking barn and smaller structures that seem more fit for a Pinterest board than a racehorse ranch.
Sunflowers dot the horizon with a small pond and more animals than I was expecting sprinkled in.
“You going to stop staring and join us, Olive?”
I look up into Logan’s blue eyes shining down at me as he holds the gate open. “Sorry. I guess I was staring. I just didn’t expect . . . all of this. It’s beautiful.”
His grin is slow and sincere. It’s full of pride, and I try to ignore it and the effect it has on me. “Yeah. It really is. Come on. Bobby just got dinner together. We always eat early on Sundays. Pops’s rules.”
“Bobby?” I ask as Logan’s hand moves to the small of my back.
“Watch your step,” he warns as we walk through the grass to a paver patio where his entire family sits with the Highland cow from the pictures lying not too far away. “Bobby is the ranch’s chef. He cooks for the family and the workers.”
“How many people work here?” I ask, genuinely intrigued.
“Two horse trainers besides Pops are full-time. There are a few part-time folks as well. And a couple of ranch hands who mainly work with the cattle.”
I motion to the other side of the patio. “Like the one sleeping next to Maggie?”
“No. That’s all Waverly. She likes to rescue broken things.” His smile is soft as he looks at his sister. “Man and beast.” Something about that statement is going to stick with me long after I’m gone from here, but I’ll fixate on it later.
Logan stops a few steps away from a large table where his siblings sit with Maggie and an older gentleman with kind eyes. “Pops, I’d like to introduce you to Olivia.” His hand presses just a tiny bit harder against my back, and the heat seeps through my clothes as I step into his side. “My wife.”
The older man’s bushy white brow arches in question, but it’s followed by a grin. The same grin Logan’s given me a time or two. “You failed to mention how pretty she is, son.”
“She hasn’t spoken yet, give it time.” Jasper shakes his head with an ear of corn in his hand, and surprisingly, I don’t even care about his words. The wind shifts, and the smell of barbeque wafts my way just in time for my stomach to growl.
I don’t remember the last time I ate.
But I push that realization to the side and smile at Pops. “It’s so nice to meet you, sir. Logan has told me so much about you.”
Okay, so that’s a giant lie, but I’ve got to at least try.
“Well now, missy, I know you’re full of it because that boy never says anything nice about me. Now sit.” He stands and offers me his seat. “Logan, go get your wife a plate and a glass of iced tea.”
And when I look at Logan, the smile on his face is ridiculously handsome, right before he drops a kiss on the top of my head like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Sit, wife. I’ll be right back.”
Waverly snickers as Jasper groans, and I take the seat and rest my eyes on Maggie, who’s sitting in her high chair, kicking her feet while she stacks colorful blocks painted to look like ladybugs.
“So, young lady.” Pops moves down one seat and gets comfortable. “How about you tell me about yourself because my grandson seems to have left out a thing or two.”
I have to stop myself from glancing at Rafe because unfortunately, I don’t have any idea what Logan has and has not told him. Lucky for me, part of my job is to win people over when I want to, and right now, I want to like my life depends on it because in some ways . . . it does.
“Hmm . . . Let’s see. I was born and raised in a small town about an hour from here.”
“Are you close with your family?” he asks before I’m able to continue.
Guess this is more inquisition than exposition.
“I am. I’m the youngest of three. My brother and sister and I are all very close to our parents and our extended family.” I’m not sure what else to say without expanding on my somewhat insane family, and I’m pretty sure that’s not going to help me right now.
“And has Logan met your parents?” He sips from a bottle of soda the way most men would sip beer, and something about that makes me smile.
“Once,” I tell him truthfully. “A very long time ago when we were in college. Maggie, he, and I are going to have dinner with them soon though. The truth is they’re not very happy with the way we got married.
” I really hope I’m playing this the right way.
I always tell my clients to base the message you’re trying to convey with the truth when you’re trying to control the narrative.
“They’re happy because I’m happy. But disappointed they weren’t involved. ”
Logan places a plate in front of me and hands me a glass of iced tea. “And when is this dinner, Olive?”
Pop’s lips tip up into a crooked grin. “Olive?”
“Nickname,” Logan assures him. “She loves it.”
“Sure do,” I force out. “And I told them I’d check with you and let them know.
“Are we all invited?” Rafe perks up. “I wouldn’t mind meeting your dad. He’s a legend.”
“We can make that happen.” I smile as my stomach growls again. “But I think it’s safer this time if it’s just Logan, Maggie, and me. I’m sure Dad will want time to get to know Logan.”
Jasper laughs, and Waverly looks between him and Rafe. “Who’s your dad?”
“Dude. Her dad is Cade St. James. He’s a legend.” Okay, didn’t know Rafe was going to fanboy, but it cuts the tension a little.
“Holy shit,” Waverly gasps. “Your brother is Killian St. James? Like Lilah Ryan’s husband?”
“Yup.” Not the first time I’ll hear this and won’t be the last either. Not when my sister-in-law is arguably the most famous pop star in the world.
“Damn. Can you get tickets when she performs here?” she asks, letting her fangirling go way further than Rafe’s.
“Sure. She’ll be closing her tour out here in a few months. They didn’t want to be gone that long with the baby,” I add, taking a bite of chicken and trying not to moan when it hits my mouth. “Wow. This is really good.”
“Don’t sound so surprised, St. James,” Jasper mocks.
“Adler,” Logan corrects his brother, and I squirm.
Noted. Jasper has a serious problem with me. But Waverly seems to be swayed by my superstar sister-in-law. And that I can work with.
“Sorry.” I swallow and poke another piece. “I’m not surprised. Just starving. I don’t remember the last time I ate. Work was crazy today. Anyway,”—I turn and look at Logan, trying to change the subject—“how was your day?”
He lifts Maggie out of her high chair and sits her on his lap. “Fine. Just caught up on a few things around the house.”
Maggie’s big eyes focus on me, and for a minute, I think she might cry.
Please don’t cry.
“Hi, sweet girl,” I say softly, not sure what to do. I’m not exactly the greatest with kids.
She buries her face in her daddy’s chest, hiding, and I guess that’s better than crying.
“Don’t worry, darlin’,” Pops tells me. “She’ll come around. Just give her time. Adlers are stubborn like that.”
“Thank you,” I say softly as I break off a piece of bread, suddenly uncomfortable.
“Welcome to the family, Olivia.”
Okay, lying to Jasper and Waverly didn’t feel that bad.
Lying to this man . . . This feels awful, and when I catch Logan’s eyes, I know he feels it too. But as his palm runs over his daughter’s hair, he silently reminds me we’re doing this for a reason.
Two reasons.
One for him and one for me.
I am going to be the next partner or I’ll die trying. And if I have to be a part of this family for a few months, then I guess that makes me an Adler.
Brynlee
What the actual fuck, Liv?
Killian
What are we fucking?
Liv
Do you ever read what you write before you hit send?
Killian
Bite me, little sister. Daisy’s been on a sleep strike. Lilah is onstage. And I don’t even know what city I’m in right now. Now why is Brynn yelling at you?
Liv
She’s not yelling.
Brynlee
Yes, I am.
Killian
Want to clue me in?
Brynlee
No.
Liv
No.
I don’t even know why she included you in the text.
Killian
Harsh.
Liv
But true.