Chapter 19
LOGAN
My dear boy, marry a woman who makes you laugh
or marry someone who makes you fear for your life.
Either way, there will never be a dull day.
—Advice from Pops to Logan
I’ve played in front of thirty-thousand screaming hockey fans.
Scored game-winning goals. Dropped gloves and thrown fists with guys bigger and stronger, even if they were never better than me, and none of that has ever made me nervous.
Not like I am right fucking now. Because this tiny waif of a woman just forgave me.
And I’m not sure anyone else’s forgiveness has ever mattered before.
I’ve never asked for it and never cared to be given it until now. Until Olivia.
String lights draped across the dance floor glow against the dark sky, and even though we’re surrounded by people and music and laughter, and too many eyes are on us, all I see is her.
She’s all I need and all I want. Her gorgeous face and small smile as she tells me she forgives me.
And that smile . . . it’s not the polite one she gives to the people she tolerates.
I’m all too familiar with that one. No. This smile is real.
It’s hesitant but genuine, and it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Would you mind repeating that, Olive?” My heart beats like a bass drum, desperate to make sure I didn’t hear her wrong, and she laughs.
Fucking laughs. It’s sweet and soft and everything.
That sound wraps around me like it feels my desperation and fills the cracks in my soul left over from a lifetime of refusing to need anyone. A lifetime spent letting few people in.
“Excuse me, son,” Cade St. James interrupts us. “Any chance I could dance with my daughter?”
I look at Olivia, not wanting this moment to pass, and squeeze her hand beneath mine before letting go. “Of course. I’ll go get us drinks.”
She mouths a silent sorry before I walk away, and I can’t even be pissed—because this woman just accepted my apology. She admitted she doesn’t hate me. And for the first time in a long damn time, I wonder if maybe this wasn’t a mistake.
A few minutes later, I’m standing off to the side, a glass of bourbon in hand, watching my wife dance with her father when Rafe moves next to me. Perfect fucking timing as usual. “You’re staring, brother.”
“And you’re an asshole, brother,” I grunt, and swallow the rest of my drink. “Sorry. Thought we were stating the obvious.”
“So it’s like that already?” he taunts as if he’s surprised. He’s not. Rafe knows me better than anyone. “Took you long enough.”
“Yeah. I know,” I groan. “Where’s your date?”
He shrugs and I look around for the strawberry-blonde bombshell that is Serena Kingston.
“Is this thing between you guys serious?”
“Nah, man. I’m her shield tonight. I knew that going in. She needed a friend, not some ass trying to screw her.” He takes a pull of his beer and looks around the vineyard. “What about you? You and your wife still doing the whole I hate you—no, you don’t dance?”
Dumb shit.
I blow out a breath and watch Olivia laugh when the bride and groom move next to her and her father. She tells them something, and Ryker Beneventi kisses her cheek before moving away.
She’s so fucking beautiful, it hurts.
“You’re staring again.”
I shake my head and clap Rafe’s shoulder. “I’m going to get another drink. Go find your date.”
By the time I make my way back to the dance floor, my wife has escaped the crowd. Not surprising. For a woman who likes to control everyone around her, I don’t think she loves crowds. Looking back on college, I’m not sure she ever has.
And I’m not at all surprised when I find her alone, halfway down a cobblestone path. The music is softer out here. The lights too. The moon hangs low above the rows of grapes, stars dotting the night’s sky. Though not a single one is as bright as the woman in front of me.
I step on a twig, and her head snaps my way. “Following me now, Adler?”
“Making sure you don’t get lost is more like it.” I move behind her and drag a knuckle down the bare ridges of her spine, stopping just along the twin dimples peeking out just above the dip of her dress.
“I love it here,” she muses. “Look over there.” She points off to the right. “There’s my house. Serena and I fell in love with it the minute we saw it.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, pulling her against me.
She leans her head back against my chest and relaxes. “Yeah, I think I could navigate these paths blindfolded, we’ve walked them so many times.”
“Sounds like a challenge, wife.” I think I could get down with her and a blindfold.
She looks back at me, those catlike green eyes narrowing.
There she is . . . My favorite version of this woman. Quick wit. Sharp tongue. Ready for battle. This version makes me want to push every button she has just to fire her up before I fuck her senseless.
And there’s the problem.
We’re not supposed to do this.
Whatever the hell this is turning into definitely goes against our deal.
Guess it’s a good thing I’ve never given a shit about playing by the rules.
Olivia pushes away and grabs my hand, tugging me behind her, forcing me to fall into step. The silence stretches between us as she guides me through the vineyard, navigating it in her ridiculous heels until we stop behind a small shed, shielding us from prying eyes. “Isn’t it beautiful out here?”
“It reminds me of the ranch. It’s peaceful.”
“That’s why we bought it,” she murmurs, and I stop, unsure I heard her right.
“You what?”
Olivia turns to face me, that soft smile back.
“Serena and I bought it a few months ago. Before Vegas. The two of us and one of my other cousins. We pooled our money and bought it. The family that owned it were going under, and they were out of options. I’ve known the owner’s oldest daughter for a long time and made them an offer. ”
“Seriously? You own this place?”
She nods as the breeze catches her hair, and for a moment, she doesn’t look like the little badass she wants the world to see. She just looks . . . happy. Relaxed. “Nobody knows. Just the three of us . . . and now you.”
“Another secret,” I murmur, fighting back the urge to touch her. “We seem to be keeping a lot of those.”
Her gaze catches mine as she nods again. Neither of us able to look away. “I’m getting tired of lies, Logan. I feel like I don’t even know what I’m lying for anymore. What’s worth it and what’s not.”
Still, neither of us moves.
Frozen in time.
In the moment.
In the truth bathed in a lie.
Maybe it’s the night. The wedding. The wine. Or maybe it’s the weeks or years of tension finally reaching a breaking point. Who the fuck knows? Maybe it doesn’t matter what it is. “What about us, Liv? Are we worth it?”
I know what I think.
What I want.
But she’s an enigma.
“Worth the lie?” She turns to face me, her eyes searching mine.
Looking for an answer I’m not sure she’ll find.
Maybe it’s too soon to ask for it. Maybe I never should.
Maybe this woman will always be too good for me and I should cut my losses while I’m ahead.
Be grateful she’s helping me keep custody of Maggie and not push for anything more.
Every instinct tells me it’s the last truth that’ll stick.
The son of a junkie who was raised as the help.
Even if I live in the main house now, I’ll never be the kind of man she’s supposed to marry, no matter how you dress it up.
But this is Olivia. My Olive. She’s complicated, but she’s never looked down on me.
Treated me like her enemy—yes. Treated me like less than—no.
Even if I’ve never wanted her to be my enemy.
Even if it was easier to put us in that box.
I should walk away before this gets more fucking complicated.
She’d be better off if I did, but I’m a selfish bastard when it comes to things I want, and I want this woman, my wife, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole fucking life.
The breeze kicks up again, and her spicy scent fills my senses as I run my fingers through a loose lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. And when her eyes close and her face relaxes, every ounce of restraint I have is eviscerated.
“Olive . . .” This time I’m the one who sounds exhausted, even to my own damn ears. “Tell me to stop.”
Her long lashes flutter for a half a second before she opens those gorgeous green eyes again, only now the fire is back, and the peace is gone. Her lips part, and the sweetest fucking sigh slips past, and I close what little distance is left between us, moving closer.
Close enough to see the rise and fall of her chest.
Close enough to feel her chilled skin.
Close enough to know I’m fucking screwed.
Olivia’s eyes drop to my mouth, and her teeth press into her pillowy bottom lip.
I want to be a better man, but I can’t. Not with her. Not now, when the woman I’ve wanted for years is standing in front of me, within my reach. I slide my hand along her jaw and tilt her face up. “Olivia . . .”
“If you stop right now, I think I’d die.”
Fuck . . .
I capture her mouth with mine, sliding my tongue against hers, swallowing her moan, and she melts against me. Her hands slide up my chest and around my shoulders. Her fingers tangle in my hair, and she presses herself against my chest like she can’t get close enough. Like we can’t get close enough.
“Fuck, Liv.” I drop my head to hers and look around us, mustering any strength I have left before I fuck her between the rows of grapevines. “Let me take you home.”
“Please, Logan.” She shakes her head. “Don’t make me beg.”
My breath catches in my throat, and my rapidly beating heart skips a heavy beat before my mouth crashes down over hers, and she claws at my shoulders. Like she wants more.
Needs more.
That makes two of us, little wife.
I grab her ass in my hands and lift her from her feet, moving us into the shadows. Sliding my hand up the silk, I drag it up around her hips and wrap her perfect fucking thighs around my waist until those heels I love so much are biting into my ass.