Chapter 18
OLIVIA
Well Olivia, what do you think a
healthy relationship should look like?
I’m guessing the answer doesn’t
involve his hand around my throat
while he asks if I’m ready to be
a good girl, right?
Depends on how tight his hold is.
I love the way you get me.
—Conversation between Delia and Olivia
“Come on, husband. Time to face the firing squad.” Logan and I barely made it in time for the wedding, which was a blessing in disguise because it meant no one had a chance to notice us or interrogate us.
However, given the death glare my mother is shooting across the vineyard, my ass needs to get in front of her right now. “Wait.”
I stop the passing waiter and grab two champagne flutes.
Logan looks between both of my hands. “I’m not much of a champagne guy, Olivia.”
“Oh, you sweet summer child.” I swallow the entire first flute and point at the corner of the dance floor. The one under the Edison bulbs strung between two wine barrels. “See my parents over there?”
“Yeah,” he grumbles like I’ve lost my mind, and I take a gulp-size sip of the other flute.
“Well, do you see the people surrounding them?” This is so bad.
“I’ve got eyes, Olive.” His fingers dig into my hip where the weight of his hand feels divine as I lean into him.
“Oh, Livvy . . .” Serena stage-whispers as she and Rafe join the two of us. “The parentals are staring.”
“Which parentals?” Rafe asks, and the fucker sounds giddy as he hands Logan a glass of dark red wine. They’re both enjoying this at our expense.
“All of them,” I grumble and nod with a tight face. “We’re so screwed.”
“Why?” Logan shoots a glance my parents’ way. “They were fine when we were at their house. Maybe not my biggest fans, but I thought it went well.”
“Dude. You’re fucked.” Serena doesn’t even bother to try and act like she feels bad for him.
“You see, any set of our parents are bad enough alone. I mean, mine are worse than Liv’s.
But that’s beside the point. Because right now .
. .” They all look that way again, not even trying to avoid being obvious.
Morons. “That right there.” She motions toward the group of them all together.
“That’s the fucking trifecta.” Serena lifts her champagne flute and points their way.
Again. Like she’s trying to draw attention.
“You’ve got my mom and dad. Dad’s the oldest and arguably the scariest man here tonight, and if you’ve met my aunt, you know that’s saying something.
Then there’s Uncle Becks, the senator, Livvy’s mom and dad, Uncle Hudson, the other former world champion MMA fighter. And, oh shit—”
I make the mistake of looking over there and realize immediately why Serena just stopped. “Son of a bitch.”
“What?” Logan asks. “It gets worse?” he looks like he doesn’t believe me, and Rafe looks like a kid in a candy shop who just stole the fucking candy and is about to let his brother take the blame for it.
“So much worse,” I grumble.
“I didn’t think Killian and Lilah were going to make it home for this.” Serena glances between Logan and me. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” She turns to Logan and takes the glass of wine from his hand. “Okay. Now you’re ready.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Logan grunts, and I pray—actually pray my brother doesn’t decide to be an insufferable ass. “Killian, like your brother Killian?”
“Yeah. Come on,” I tell him. “We might as well get this over with.”
“What the fuck? Are you marching me down the Green Mile or something, Olivia?”
I lace my fingers through his and shake my head. “You watch entirely too much television, Adler. And no, you’re not on death row. But my brother is . . . a little . . .”
“He’s overprotective as fuck, and you just married his baby sister. In Vegas,” Serena announces, like she’s now having fun with this too.
“It was nice knowing ya, brother.” Rafe claps Logan on the shoulder.
“He’s not that bad.” I mean, really, I don’t think he is. At least he wasn’t when Brynlee married Deacon.
“Oh shit,” Serena whispers, then grabs Rafe’s hand. “Dance with me?”
“Okay,” he tells her as she drags him to the dance floor.
And before the next note plays, I see why.
“Livvy . . .” Hendrix Sinclair says my name like he always has, like we’re two little kids conspiring and about to hide from our parents together. But his eyes aren’t on me. They’re on Serena, who’s nicely tucked into Rafe’s arms as the band sings a Sam Smith song.
“Hey, Henny.” I wrap an arm around his waist and lean my head on his shoulder. Only one because my husband refused to let go of my other hand when I tried to tug it free. “How’s the groom doing?”
Hendrix looks from Serena to me and then finally to Logan. “Pretty sure he’s madly in love with his wife. So I’d say he’s winning.”
I don’t bother correcting one of my oldest friends.
Ryker is absolutely in love with his wife. But until the damn charges are officially dropped and the league clears him from any wrongdoing, I’m going to withhold any declaration of winning. I refuse to jinx this.
“You gonna introduce me to your friend, Livvy?”
And the hits keep coming.
Logan glares at Hendrix, and I know what he’s thinking, but I swear to God if he introduces himself as my husband, I will do serious bodily harm.
“Logan Adler.” He offers Hendrix his hand, and the two assholes shake way harder than necessary. “Her . . .”—he looks at me, and I know what he wants to say, but I silently plead for him not to—“friend.”
I drop my hold on Hendrix and step into Logan’s side, and stare up at him adoringly. “My very good friend.”
“Adler . . . You play for the Nobles, right?” Of course they’re going to talk hockey now.
Logan nods, and I see the moment it clicks. “Hendrix Sinclair?” He waits for Hendrix to agree. “The Revolution’s newest acquisition. You were with Chicago, right?”
“Yeah.” Hendrix looks out at the dance floor. “It was time to come home.”
I hate seeing the pain in his eyes as he says those words almost as much as I hate knowing the hell he’s been through this past year with the death of his wife.
But it was definitely time for Hendrix and his son to come home and be surrounded by the people who love him. More than one of us here tonight.
“Well, Henny, I’d love to stand right here and catch up all night, but if I don’t go over and say hi to my parents soon, they’re going to kill me.”
“Looks to me like they’re going to kill Logan,” he jokes. “Hate to break it to ya, man, but they don’t look like they’re your biggest fans. Not surprising since Liv’s never brought anyone to anything before.” If I could make him shut up without slapping a hand over his mouth, I would.
And that’s the problem with growing up with someone.
They know all your secrets.
And Serena and Hendrix know them all because the three of us were together for most of them.
“Not even you?” Logan asks in a way that’s meant to come across as casual, but there’s nothing casual about it.
Hendrix’s chest shakes with silent laughter. “Our moms fucking wished.” He tugs me out of Logan’s hold and wraps me up in a bear hug that nearly lifts me from my feet before he squeezes for a long moment, nothing but silence, heartbreak, and memories between us. “Let’s get together soon, Liv.”
“We will. Maybe you could bring Bodhi to the ranch to meet the animals. There’s tons of them. I bet he’d like it.” I kiss his cheek.
“Sounds like a plan.” He releases me and does that stupid chin lift thing toward Logan before he walks away, leaving Logan looking like he’s about to commit murder.
“You sure there was never anything between the two of you?” my husband asks, his voice rough and possessive, and I can’t even begin to act like I’m not intrigued by the jealous-tinged tone. He gathers my face in his hands, and those blue eyes lock onto mine.
I could tell him no.
I could tell him Hendrix is my oldest friend.
Well, the longest friendship I’ve ever had with someone other than a member of my family.
But the way he’s looking at me. The way he’s been looking at me since I stepped out of the bathroom. The way his hands feel against my skin. Words don’t feel like enough.
I run my hands along his arms and wrap my fingers around his wrists as I press up onto my toes.
“Never.” I brush my lips over his. It’s a whisper of a kiss before I pull back.
“You, Logan Adler, are the only man I’ve ever introduced to my family.
The only man I’ve ever been in any kind of relationship with, and it’s not even a real one. ”
“It’s the most real relationship I’ve ever had, Liv,” he breathes against my lips, and then the kiss happens.
It’s so much more than a brush of his lips against mine.
It’s his hands on my face. In my hair. On my neck.
It’s his tongue tangling with mine. The heat of his eyes before mine flutter shut, and I’m lost to him. In him.
It’s everything.
“Jesus Christ. Get a fucking room.”
And it’s over before it started.
I pull back from Logan, and he drops his lips to my forehead. “Your brother?”
“Yup.” I turn to face Killian, and Logan pulls me in front of him. Oh . . . Apparently, I’m being used as cover so my brother doesn’t have to see exactly how much my husband enjoyed that kiss. But damn, I get to feel it, and it feels incredible. “Hi, Killer.”
“You going to introduce me, Livvy?”
Jesus Christ.
How many of the men in my life are going to be dicks tonight?
Logan offers Killian his hand, but Kill just looks at it, and I swear to God I’m tempted to kick his fucking shin.
“Where is your wife, Killian?” Lilah can usually keep his caveman tendencies leashed.
“She’s curled up at a hotel in Maine with Daisy. She wasn’t feeling well, so I convinced her not to come.” Killian’s eyes soften, and I’m shocked he was willing to even leave her for the night. “But she’s pretty pissed to be missing it.”