Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Lucian
To Flirt or Not to Flirt .
. . When You’re on The Fence About It
I probably should’ve let her find out about the fence on her own.
Would’ve been hilarious, actually—Olivia coming home after what I assume was a grueling shift at the vet clinic, ready for a quiet evening, only to find her backyard resembling a crime scene.
Fence panels scattered across the grass, some leaning at odd angles, others fully collapsed as if they just gave up on life.
A total disaster.
But I guess I’m feeling generous today.
So, not only did I text about it.
I handled it. I cleaned up the mess and called a guy.
Set it up so he can be here first thing tomorrow.
Now, I’m here, leaning against her porch, waiting for .
. . something.
Not sure what exactly.
I could’ve left a note: a simple, “Hey, don’t forget your fence is wrecked, I called someone. You’re welcome.” But no, I like to be personable and shit.
Also, let’s be honest—I’m bored.
Everyone in my family is busy.
My parents practically live at Leif’s house these days, obsessed with baby Luna.
Not that I blame them—kid’s ridiculously cute.
Leif himself is in full-on dad mode, which means I don’t hear from him unless it’s about baby milestones or emergency parenting favors.
Kade is a newlywed and acting like one, which means he’s basically dead to the rest of us.
His twin, Killion, is plotting ways to convince Camille to elope so they can avoid the wedding drama.
I could reach out to my younger siblings, but Scottie’s busy being a badass businesswoman, and I’m trying to connect with Greyson.
The kid is too young and annoying—we end up fighting sometimes, and I can’t have that when I might need a dog sitter during the season.
Which leaves me with .
. . my new neighbor.
Shit. I need a hobby.
A casual hookup. Maybe both.
My parents suggested I grow up, but where’s the fun in that?
I hear the engine before I see the car pull into the driveway.
Then, Olivia steps out—her ponytail barely hanging on, her puppy-print scrubs rumpled, and her expression set to maximum exhaustion.
I should go easy on her.
But again, where’s the fun in that?
“Why . . .” she stares at me like I’m a stray dog she forgot to call Animal Control about, “. . . are you here?”
“Missed me, darling?”
“Like I miss traffic,” she doesn’t even blink when she responds.
Rude.
I grin. “So, all the time?”
She exhales slowly and deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose like I’ve personally caused every problem in her life.
“Lucian.”
“Olivia.”
Her eyes narrow.
“What. Do. You. Want?”
I tilt my head, letting the silence drag just long enough to make her twitch.
“Fence guy’s coming tomorrow.”
She pauses.
Blinks.
And honestly, I can’t tell if she’s about to thank me .
. . or murder me.
“You . . . hired someone?”
I nod.
“You told me to fix it.”
“I—” Her hands flinch midair like she wants to physically throw the words back at me.
“Did I really? Maybe that was more of a ‘you should take responsibility’ kind of statement, not a ‘literally show up at my house and take over my life’ statement.”
I cross my arms. “So . . . you don’t want your fence fixed?”
She groans, dragging a hand down her face.
“I don’t like people making decisions for me.”
“Noted.” I nod.
“Next time your house falls apart, I won’t change anything. However, today I tidied up your yard, and a crew will be here tomorrow. I already gave a fifty percent deposit.”
She releases the longest, slowest sigh I’ve ever heard.
“But what if I can’t afford to pay it?” she suddenly asks.
“I just moved, and the flooring guy you recommended wanted to charge me an arm and a leg.”
“The one you told to go shove his quote wherever it fits better?”
She gawks at me.
“I never said that.”
“You practically did,” I tease, smirking.
“No. I said I was shopping around, and when I made a decision, I’d reach out to him.”
“Same thing,” I argue.
She shakes her head.
“I don’t have time for your nonsense.”
“Me neither, and yet, here we are.”
“Lucian,” she says, pressing her fingers into her temples like I’m a walking migraine.
“Why are you still here?”
I gesture vaguely toward her.
“Figured you’d be mad about it. Wanted to see it in real-time.”
Her mouth opens, then closes.
Then she throws her head back, groaning at the sky like she’s begging for patience from a higher power.
God, she’s so fucking adorable.
“You are so exhausting,” she mutters.
“Yeah,” I agree easily.
“But you like it.”
Her head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing like she’s going to use some laser beam and maim me.
“I do not like it—or you.”
“Then why are you still standing here, talking to me?”
She folds her arms, posture stiff.
“You’re blocking my door.”
I glance over my shoulder at the wide-open path leading straight to her house.
“Huh,” I say, turning back to her.
“Doesn’t look blocked to me.”
Olivia lets out another dramatic sigh, rubbing her forehead as if she’s actively regretting every life choice that has brought her to this moment.
“Thank you,” she mutters.
“For what?” I ask, grinning.
“For tidying up and helping me fix the fence.”
I blink, pressing a hand to my chest like she just confessed undying love.
“Wow. Did that physically hurt to say?”
She glares.
“So much.”
I chuckle, leaning against the railing.
“See? That wasn’t so bad.”
She lifts an unimpressed gaze.
“Are you done?”
I grin.
“Not even close.”
She groans, pushing past me toward her door.
“You work too hard,” I say before I can stop myself.
She freezes, hand hovering over the doorknob.
Then, slowly, she turns.
“Excuse me?”
I shrug, watching her.
“You’ve been going non-stop since you moved here a few days ago. When’s the last time you did something for yourself?”
She blinks, caught off guard.
Then scowls at me, crossing her arms. “Why do you care?”
I smirk.
“Because you look like you need someone to give a fuck.”
Her lips press together.
I let the moment stretch, watching how her fingers twitch—like she wants to argue but doesn’t know how to counter me.
Finally, she shakes her head and turns back toward the door.
“If I say thank you again, will you leave?”
I lift a shoulder.
“Depends. Will it be sincere?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Then I’m staying.”
She groans into her hands.
“Lucian.”
“Olivia.”
Her fingers curl into fists.
I grin. “Want me to run you a bath or something? Get you a glass of wine? I can cook while you’re taking that bath . . . unless you want me to join you.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
She turns so fast I half expect her to grab something heavy to throw at me.
“There you go, flirting again,” she says, then pokes my chest with her finger.
“I already told you I won’t play your game.”
I laugh, lifting my hands in mock surrender.
“Fine, but my offer stands. I can cook a homemade meal while you relax.”
“No, but thank you. Now, go home. Where is Sarah?”
“She’s at home. We agreed that if she let me visit you alone, I’d take her to the trail tomorrow morning.”
She scoffs.
“Next time, bring her. I’d rather talk to her than you.”
I press my hands to my chest. “You wound me, woman.”
“Go to Sarah and have a good night, Lucian.”
“Fine,” I say, ignoring her exhausted glare, “but I will see you tomorrow.”
Her entire body tenses.
“Why?”
I nod toward the fence.
“Gotta supervise.”
She looks like she wants to fling herself into the sun.
“You do not need to supervise.”
“You never know. Could be a shady fence guy. What if he tries to scam you?”
Her head tilts in disbelief.
“Lucian. You hired him.”
“Exactly,” I say.
“What if I made a mistake?”
Her jaw tightens.
I watch, fascinated, as she fights a full-body shiver of irritation.
She finally presses her fingers into her temples.
“You are unreal.”
I smirk.
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m very real. You’ll see me first thing in the morning.”
She lets out a strangled sound, turns, and slams the door in my face.
I laugh the whole way down the steps.
Because Olivia thinks she’s winning this game.
But I don’t lose.
And tomorrow?
She’s gonna learn that firsthand.
In a few days, she will crave my company, and before she knows it .
. . she’ll crave a lot more.