Chapter 15
OLIVIA
Me sending a voice note in the text thread because it’s faster.
Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
—Olivia’s Secret Thoughts
Serena
I did it.
Olivia
You’re going to have to be so much more specific than that, babe.
Serena
I asked Rafe if he’d go to the wedding with me.
Holy shit. It’s like we’ve reverted back to middle school.
Seriously.
Olivia
And . . . ?
Serena
He said yes.
Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.
I make a mental note to be a little extra nice to Rafe.
Right after I warn him not to fuck my cousin.
Olivia
So, is this like a date, date?
Serena
Or what? A pity date?
Olivia
I didn’t say that. I meant is this the kind of date you buy new lingerie for?
Please let her say no. I’m not sure how well my husband would take it if I had to castrate his brother and hang his balls up on my rearview mirror like fuzzy dice.
Serena
. . .
Olivia
You don’t have to know now. Just don’t do anything you’ll regret later.
Or anything that will make me commit a felony.
Serena
You mean anything else I’ll regret?
Olivia
Maybe.
Serena
I may have gotten nervous and blurted out why I wanted him to go with me.
Olivia
Seriously?
Serena
** Hides in the box of shame** Maybe.
Olivia
Well, damn. I didn’t know you and Rafe were friends. I thought he was just a fuckboy you hadn’t fucked.
Serena
Pretty sure he is a fuckboy. But he’s a good guy, Livvy. I think he’s going to be a good friend.
Olivia
With benefits?
Please say no benefits. Please, please, please say no benefits.
Serena
Pot meet kettle. How’s your hockey hottie husband doing? Are you diddling the daddy yet?
Olivia
Really? Can we squeeze more alliteration into those questions?
Serena
Don’t judge me. It’s been hard to sleep in this bigass empty house.
Olivia
And that’s made you less funny?
Serena
There’s my bitchy Barbie.
The Triple Crown is rarely quiet, inside or out.
Between the family, the workers, and the animals, it’s a bustle of nonstop noise and frenetic energy.
Today, however, seems to be one of those rare exceptions.
It’s the kind of crisp September day that prepares you for the October chill just around the corner.
The kind where the scent of fall is blowing in on the breeze, the air is cooling, the leaves are changing, and lucky for me, the Wi-Fi is strong.
I never expected to find myself wrapped in my favorite cashmere throw and working outside on a tree swing for hours. But that’s exactly how I’ve spent my afternoon.
Unexpected but peaceful.
Little girl giggles followed by leaves crunching under foot simultaneously make me close my laptop and look up in time to catch a running Maggie. When this girl gets faster, watch out world. “Come here, you little chaos gremlin.”
“Up. Up. Up.” Her arms fly into the air as her daddy follows behind with Posey strangely hot on his heels. Today, the adorably fluffy cow has sunflowers in the warm walnut hair by her ears, just like her favorite little one-year-old does.
“Come here.” I reach for Maggie, pulling her up next to me. “Well hello, Miss Maggie May. Are you having fun?”
Maggie May, Logan mouths, and I smile. Dad always loved that song.
She pulls herself up to stand by my side, and my hands fly to her waist to steady her before she can fall while reaching for Posey.
I think this cow might be her bodyguard, making sure she doesn’t fall flat on her face.
It’s adorable, really. But a little piece of me still dies inside when she pushes at my hand with her wet nose. Not sure I’ll ever get used to that.
“Not a fan, Olive?” Logan teases, and damn, he’s sexy.
Logan’s light wash jeans look twenty years old and soft as butter. They’ve molded to every muscle in his legs, and as much as I want to act like he has no effect on me, I’m not into lying to myself.
Other people when I have to.
But never myself.
“I’m a fan,” I argue and wince as Posey moves closer, her tail swishing behind her, a pretty red bow tied at the end, glinting in the sun. Guess Posey got a full-on makeover today. “I just like her better from a distance.”
Maggie babbles something that sounds an awful lot like love Posey, and my distaste for the cow and her gigantic tongue lessens. At least a tiny bit.
Anything that makes Maggie happy can’t be too bad. Right? Maybe if I tell myself that enough, I’ll start believing it.
“Sure, ya are,” he humors me, clearly not believing it either. “How are you feeling? You’re looking a little less pale.”
“You may need to work on your complimenting skills, husband. They’re lacking.” I turn myself into a human seatbelt as Maggie falls on her diaper-covered tush.
How old are babies when they’re potty trained?
One? Two? I guess I should know these things.
Oops.
“Wasn’t trying to compliment, wife. Just stating facts. The sun seems like it’s doing you some good.”
“Yeah well, my vitamin D levels typically suck, too, so I like working outside when I can. I go later this week to have blood drawn, so my doctor can check my levels at my appointment next week.” The appointment where I’m sure I’ll be told to monitor my stress levels because that’s what I’m told every time.
Logan stuffs his hands into his pockets, flexing his forearms. And holy fucking arm porn, this man’s arms are a thing of beauty. The corded muscle. The tan skin. The gorgeous black ink. And that leather watch. It all does it for me.
Oh. My. God.
I’ve got to get it together.
“My eyes are up here, Olive.” His grin is so fucking cocky, I kind of want to throw something at his head just to watch him cover his face. That damn dimple is going to be the death of me.
“I’m aware, Adler. Your head is so big, it’s pretty hard to miss.” Not a complete lie. “Shouldn’t you be at practice or something?”
“It’s Sunday.”
Of course it is.
“I’ve got practice tomorrow, and we have our first preseason game Thursday.”
Shit. I knew that too, but with everything that’s been going on, I kind of forgot. “Right . . . Speaking of schedules. Any chance you’d want to go to my cousin’s wedding next weekend?”
Logan shifts, and I force my eyes to stay focused on his instead of the way his blue tee is now straining against his chest.
For fuck’s sake, if I weren’t married, I’d say I needed to get laid. Badly.
Who am I kidding?
We may need to revisit this damn deal. Again.
Maggie leans into my side, and Posey leans into Maggie.
A little too close for my taste, but okay, I’ll go with it.
“Not a date. More like a business transaction. We’re going to have to be seen together in public eventually, so we can ease the press into the whole married thing. This is a good launching point.”
“Launching? Like a grand opening?” This infuriating man licks his lips like he knows what he’s doing to me, and he’s enjoying it. “And what would be required of this launching?”
“You’d meet the rest of my family. We’d dance and smile and look like we’re—”
“We’re what? In love?” the pain in my ass interrupts me. “Sounds complicated, Olive. What do I get out of the deal?”
“I’m sorry, what?” I’m going to kill him. “You get to be part of a believable couple, so you can keep your daughter. You get the power of being part of the Kingston family behind you. And trust me, whether you chose to wield it not, it comes with power.”
“But you’re a St. James, not a Kingston,” he taunts, and I laugh.
“We’re all Kingstons. It doesn’t matter what our last name is. The family legacy is the same. It’s the same as being a Kennedy,” I warn him.
“Famous?” he asks, and I roll my eyes and enjoy the way his flare as I do it.
Maybe a little too much.
“More like infamous,” I warn as Maggie climbs into my lap and lays her head against my chest. Guess it’s nap time. I drop a quick kiss on her head and look back at her infuriating daddy. “It’s a few hours for one night, and it’s good PR. Not to mention Rafe’s going. I mean, I could ask Jasper, if—”
“Not a chance, Olive.” His jaw clenches, and if I’m not mistaken, I think my husband may have just gotten a teeny, tiny bit territorial. Huh . . . Something to keep in mind for renegotiations. “Jasper isn’t your husband.”
Ohh . . . Definitely territorial.
That’s interesting.
“No rings. No husband and wife.” Gently, I run my hand down Maggie’s back, enjoying the way she’s relaxed against me.
I know this is only temporary, but avoiding catching feelings for this little girl is virtually impossible.
Avoiding those same feelings for her daddy .
. . that’s a little easier. “Not that night. That night, we focus on Ryker and Delaney. We can game-plan coming out of the closet after Ryker’s cleared of the charges. ”
Something catches Posey’s attention, and I turn to watch as she trots away faster than I’ve ever seen her move. I still wouldn’t call it fast, but it’s fast for her.
Logan grips my chin in his fingers and turns my face back to his. Only this time, he’s closed the distance between us. “Been a long damn time since I’ve been in a closet with a woman, Olivia. But I have no doubt we could have a lot of fun there. You just gotta admit the truth.”
“What truth?” I snap. Or more accurately, try to snap. But the words come out a little huskier than I’d like because I’d give this stupid man just about any words he’d want for him to take the damn edge off at this point.
He steps back, breaking the connection. “Simple.” His arms cross and his muscles bulge. “That you, Olivia St. James-Adler, don’t hate me.”
You are holding his baby and cannot beat this man silly.
You are holding his baby and cannot beat this man silly.
You are holding his baby and cannot beat this man silly.
I repeat this mantra over and over in my head until I calm myself enough to stand.
“I can think of so many things I’d let you do to me in that closet, hotshot.
” I carefully transfer Maggie to Logan’s arms. “But none of them are worth lying for.” Turning, I gather my things and look back over my shoulder one more time.
“So many things, Logan. Naughty things.” His eyes flare wide, pupils darkening.
“Sexy things.” I lower my voice and lick my lips.
“Things you could do with your tongue and your hands and your teeth before you even take your clothes off, and I get my first taste.” I drag my eyes down his body to the unbelievably impressive bulge in the jeans I was admiring earlier.
“All you have to do is get over yourself and realize that hate sex can be oh, so much fun.”
I walk away again before he gets a chance to answer, adding an extra sway to each step, hoping his resolve will break soon.
I might consider myself a badass most days, but even badasses have their breaking points.