by Vivian Wood
“Oops, sorry!” she says, scooting herself another inch away from me.
My first instinct is to drag her a little closer, put my calloused palms against her smooth skin. Just to see how she would react.
Cool it, Moreland, I remind myself. Think of who she is. Don’t do something that stupid.
So I change the subject. “I hate to be one of those people, but what are you reading?”
She wrinkles her nose, showing me the cover. The cover is abstract, a swirl of gold-brown under the title. “It’s The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner.”
“Faulkner. I think I had to read something by him in high school.” I pause. “Well, I don't mean read. I mean listen. It was one of the few books that my school had on audiotape.”
She lifts her eyebrows. “Oh? You didn’t want to read the novel?” She chuckles. “Actually, most people don’t. He is very wordy.”
I look at the sand in front of me, reach out two fingers to trace a figure eight. “I’m like… laughably dyslexic. When I was growing up, I failed two grades before the school realized that I couldn’t really read.”
“Oh,” she says carefully, gripping her book to her chest with both hands. “Right. I knew that. I just never really put that together in my head. I just assumed that you were as good at school as you were at… everything else.” She wrinkles her nose. “All I ever did as a kid was read.” Her cheeks stain again. “Actually, my childhood wasn’t that different from my life right now in that regard. I’m still a giant nerd.” She crinkles her face up. “I know you were a jock at that age, so… thanks for hanging out with me.”
She huffs out a laugh.
I smile a little. I’ve known her since she was a little kid, her nose always stuck in a book. “I wished I was a nerd sometimes. My dad was this big corporate lawyer who was so angry that he had a dumb kid.”
She straightens her spine and frowns. “You aren’t dumb, Aiden.”
I roll my eyes. “My dad would probably disagree. His fuckup of a son, who joined the Navy straight out of high school, and now spends his days hiking around the forest. I’m a profound disappointment to him and he doesn’t waste a single opportunity to remind me of it.”
Her eyes widen. “Your father actually told you that?”
I push myself onto my back, laying out against the sand. “Yep. In much, much more explicit language than that. That’s why we don't talk anymore. We haven’t even made an attempt since my mom died.”
Olivia pushes her hair behind her ears, her expression a little angry. She reaches out and touches my arm ever so gently, causing goosebumps to raise all over my body. “Aiden, you’re one of the smartest people I know. You always have been. I’m sorry that anybody ever tried to tell you differently.”
Her words are so earnest, making the back of my neck heat. It’s a little weird that she has such complete faith in me when I’ve never really given her a reason to feel so strongly about me. It feels awkward and clunky.
“We don't really need to talk about that,” I deflect. “We should be talking about something more interesting. Like…” I grasp for straws, eager to put the ball back in my court. What am I good at?
Sex. How do I work that into the conversation?
“Okay…” I say. “Ah! Who was your first crush?”
Her cheeks color. “I don't know…” she hedges.
I’m enjoying her embarrassment too much. “Mine was Mrs. Collins, my fifth-grade math teacher. She had sort of this breathy voice. And she used to wear these short, tight little skirts… and she would lean over when she fixed the projector… Mm. How about you?”
Olivia looks at the ground. “I had a crush on Mr. Rodger,” she mumbles. “I liked how neatly he dressed.”
“Oh man,” I say, cracking up. “That is nerdy. You liked how neatly he dressed.” I laugh about that for second, my eye on Olivia. “Alright. How about a tougher one?”
She gives me a look that says she couldn’t imagine anything she would rather be talking about less. I grin, my shoulders feeling looser.
“How about… are you a boobs girl or a butt girl? Or… what’s the female equivalent? Hot arms or strong back muscles?”
She scrunches up her face. “I would rather crawl under a rock than answer that.”
I bump her with my shoulder. “Relax. I’m not going to tell anybody. Me, I’m a butt guy, all the way. Boobs are great, but I like an ass. Gives you something to hold onto when you’re fucking.”
Olivia pinches her eyes closed. “I hate you.”
“Just tell me. Which do you fantasize about? Arms or back? Oooh, or abs maybe?”
She grabs her book, holding it in front of her face. “I like the Adonis belt, I guess…”
That gives me pause. “The fuck lines, eh? That’s pretty raunchy, Olive.”
She moves her book to the side and shoots me a glare. “You are a terror. I don't even know why I’m still sitting here and putting up with this… this inquisition.”
My grin widens. “Who’s the best sex you’ve ever had? Hmm? Who just totally blew your stack?”
She goes bright red in an instant, glancing away. She drops the book, but she won’t look anywhere near me. “Ummm…”
I grin. Reaching out to touch her bare knee, I rib her a little. “Come on, you can tell me.”
She looks back at me, her blue eyes full of mortification. “You’re going to make fun of me.”
“Me? No.” I shake my head. “Scout’s honor, I won’t.”
Olivia looks like she’s about to die. “You go first.”
I have one already lined up. “Easy. When I went to Amsterdam, I did a ton of mushrooms and got crazy with a girl in my hostel. It was four hours of intense awesomeness… followed by her rushing to leave. She had a flight to catch, I guess.” I laugh. “Now it’s your turn.”
Red as a tomato, she forces her gaze down and mumbles. “I’ve never… umm… done more than kiss?” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I’m a… um… a virgin.”
“Bullshit.” My answer is instantaneous, bursting past my lips unheeded. There is just no way that anyone could look like Olivia does and still be untouched. “That is one hundred percent a huge fucking lie.”
She shoots to her feet, looking mad. “You’re a jerk.”
I’m still giving her my most suspicious eye. Is she being for real?
Shoving her book back in her tote bag, Olivia yanks her tote from the sand and storms off.
“Hey,” I call after her. She doesn’t even pause. “Olivia!”
She stalks off, heading across the road. I sit back in the sand, marveling over what she just told me.
Olivia’s a virgin?
No way.
My cock hardens, just thinking about what it would be like to plow that maidenly field.
How amazing her pale skin would look under my deeply suntanned hands.
The sounds she would make.
Knowing that I would be the first man to make her cum…
I sit on the beach as dusk falls around me, wondering what it would be like. And I know full well I can never, ever be the man who takes her v-card…
Still, a guy can dream, can’t he?
Chapter Eleven
Olivia
“Hey.”
I glance up from a mountain of papers that I am meticulously cataloguing in a notepad. I’ve dragged a table and a folding chair into the ballroom, and begun sifting through the stacks of paper, discarding the things I’m sure are trash.
The stacks on the table in front of me are high enough that I have to push onto my tiptoes to see Aiden. He’s lounging in the doorway, looking as handsome as ever. My cheeks instantly begin to burn.
The other day on the beach, I stormed off without so much as a backward glance. And yet here he is, in low slung blue jeans and a white tee shirt, looking unrepentant. I feel like such a fool, not just for admitting that I am a virgin, but for leaving like I did.
Yet he seems unworried. Am I supposed to read
into that?
“Um.” I step around the table I’m using as my desk. Now there are only twenty or so stacks of books and papers between us, and none so tall as what is on my desk. “Hey.”
“This is a lot of stuff,” he comments, looking around at all the neatly organized stacks I’ve created.
Clearing my throat, I try to decide how to answer. I take a minute, working off the lightweight linen gloves I had on to protect the documents. “Yes, it is a lot. I’m starting from the oldest papers and working my way to the future. It’s proving to be interesting work.”
He nods, looking around. “You weren’t kidding about the ballroom thing. It’s like Beauty and The Beast in here, except all dusty and stuff.”
I turn, looking toward the wall of windows. Like everything in the ballroom, the windows are all done up in elaborate gold filigree and heavy royal blue drapes. However they are mostly broken and boarded up.
“It could use some work,” I sigh. “Like almost everything in this house. Margaret keeps everything downstairs in good repair, but I don’t think the second or third floors have got much attention over the years. It’s been quite a while since the estate has had a handyman, I guess.”
Aiden looks around. “For sure. I guess that after you’re done in here, I should come in here and fix the windows. Dust those chandeliers, put a fresh coat of paint on the walls, probably some wax on the floors… it’ll look like brand new.”
I glance around speculatively. It’s hard to see what he sees. “You would know better than me I guess.”
He nods. “By the way, you haven’t come across anything interesting in all this mess, have you?”
He waves his hand to indicate the papers I’m working on. I shake my head.
“Not yet, no. So far, I’m not even in the right century.” I set my gloves down on top of the documents I’ve been working on with a silent sigh.
Aiden’s eyebrows lift. “The Morgan family is that old?”
Warming to the subject, I smile. “Yes. The earliest record I have is from 1752. The Morgans were merchants back east, I guess. Then they moved out here sometime in the mid 1800s. From my what I can tell, Margaret’s great grandfather built this house in the 1870s, I think.”
He thinks about that for a minute. “And you’re going to like… I don’t know, preserve those old records somehow?”
I nod. “Yes. Once I do an inventory of it all and catalog it, I think the next step will be laying everything out on special paper and then putting it in plastic archival document casing. Basically I’ll wrap it all in plastic.”
He scratches his cheek. “Cool. I mean, I don't know anything about it, but it sounds like you have a plan.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” I reply, my tone teasing. “It’s almost like I sought this place out because Margaret was willing to give me hands on experience.”
His lips curve.
“Right.” He looks around. “I wonder what will happen to this place after Margaret… you know, after she can’t stay here anymore.”
I shake my head. “God knows. I mean, this place is a gem, but you would have to really like living away from the city to consider living here. And that’s assuming that you even want to live in a place that hasn’t been maintained for years. I doubt that Carter will be interested in that.”
Aiden seems thoughtful, nodding. Silence hangs in the air for a few moments after that, growing awkward. He sighs and squints off into the distance.
“Listen… about the other day…”
I fidget and my cheeks flame. That’s the last thing I want to talk about. “We don’t have to talk about it. I mean, if you don't want to.”
A ghost of a smile lifts the corners of his lips. “I was just going to apologize. I didn’t mean to imply that you are dishonest. It’s just… when you told me that… you know, you’ve never been with anyone… I couldn’t believe it. I mean… look at you. It just seems… unreal.”
Blushing intensely, I look down at myself. I’m wearing the same dress as the first day I got here, a white structured dress with a red collar and pockets. I don't see whatever he sees; all I notice when I look down is how much I lack.
No breasts to speak of. I’m not especially tall, nor as petite as Grayson’s ex Rachel. I don’t have an ass. And frankly, I don't think I’m particularly beautiful either. I’m basically Kim Kardashian’s worst nightmare.
When I look up at Aiden again though… the look in his dark eyes, the carnal interest, the way his muscular chest rises and falls a little bit faster than normal… it takes my breath away. I shake my head, looking down.
“I don’t see what you see, but… thanks for the apology, I guess.”
His huffed laughter draws my eyes back up. “You don’t think you’re hot?”
My cheeks burn again. My pulse begins to race and I swallow. “No. At best, I think I’m invisible. Guys like you usually look right through me. It’s always been that way for my entire life.”
Aiden pushes himself off of the doorway, straightening to his full height. He looks fearsome just now, his face creasing into a frown.
“Come here,” he commands. His eyes are throwing off sparks.
My mouth goes dry. I gulp. “Me?”
He beckons me over with one hand. “Right now. Come here. Don’t make me come get you.”
His body language is telling me he’s dangerous. But I am curious, nevertheless. It’s like stepping closer to the edge of a crevasse. There is a bone deep calling to just know what it would be like to tumble over the side, to feel weightless for a moment, despite the danger.
My heart is beating as frantically as a frightened rabbit. My whole body feels like it’s made of lead. I take one step toward him, then another. Pulled by some forces I cannot understand, I slowly cross the room.
But I want badly to comprehend them. And there is some kind of answer within him. I know it.
As soon as I am close enough, he reaches out and grabs me by the waist. I can’t breathe as I stare up into his face. I feel so small compared to Aiden, especially when he pulls my hips against his.
Finally, a part of me thinks. I’ve been waiting to feel his lips against my skin for so, so long.
When he cups my jaw and looks down at me with the fiercest expression on his face, the same part of me melts into his rough touch. I start to push up onto my tiptoes, my lips parting ever so slightly, my eyes beginning to close.
Yes. Finally. I’ve been waiting for this moment for years.
Aiden angles my face just so, leaning down close. I feel his breath fanning my lips. Everything slows down, except for my racing heart.
He whispers four words to me, four words that strip me to my very core. “I see you, Olivia.”
He sees me.
He thinks I’m attractive.
I’m not invisible to this man who I’ve loved since before I knew what love was.
Pushing myself up another inch, I find his lips. I barely brush mine against his; his lips are softer and warmer than I had imagined. In contrast, I’m pulled against his hard body. I think I feel the faint outline of his cock through his jeans.
Yes, I think. You want me? Take me.
Right here, right now. Show me all the things I’ve been missing.
I start to open my mouth, to explore his lips more. A growl bursts from deep in Aiden’s chest.
Maybe he needs this every bit as much as I do.
Then Margaret’s voice interrupts us, calling from downstairs. “Olivia, dear? Can you hear me?”
We both jump apart, my heart pounding. I stare at Aiden with wide eyes, and he glances away.
“Shit,” he mumbles.
What does that mean? I know a moment of lovesickness as I wonder whether he cursed because of the interruption or because he was doing something that he knew he shouldn’t have been doing.
I am Grayson’s little sister, after all. Grayson would be beyond livid if he found out that we had kissed.
“Olivia?”
Another voice, this one younger and more masculine. Carter, if I had to guess.
I clear my throat and raise my voice. “Yes?” I call to the door as I head toward the landing.
There is the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. In a heartbeat, Carter climbs the steps, taking me in. A second later he frowns as he looks between me and Aiden.
“Aiden.” He rumbles Aiden’s name like it’s a curse word.
I see one side of Aiden’s mouth kick up into a cold smile. “Carter. We were just talking about you.”
Carter’s eyebrows rise. “Is that right? Well… I wasn’t thinking about you. I was, however, thinking about Olivia.” He has just a hint of a sneer on his lips. “Olivia, my great aunt wants to know if you’d be interested in joining us for dinner in Port Angeles. That way you can catch her up on what you’ve found out.”
“Oh, well…” I frown, glancing back to Aiden. “We were just… working on a project. You know, Aiden was doing, um… handyman stuff…”
“I think we’re done,” Aiden says, his tone flat. His eyes bore into mine. “You had better go on ahead to town, Olivia. I’m alright being by myself.”
Flustered, I don't know what to say. I feel like he’s talking about more than work, but I can't ask him with Carter here.
Would I even ask him if it was just the two of us? Probably not.
“Okay,” I say, straightening my dress. I walk toward Carter, looking back at Aiden. “I’ll be back.”
Aiden just shrugs, his expression humorless.
“Come on,” Carter says, ushering me down the stairs. “Aunt Margaret loves this place in Port Angeles and they close at four.”
I head downstairs, my thoughts in a mess.
I kissed Aiden. Not fully, but enough to make him growl. And I desperately want to kiss him again.
But if his expression at the end was any indication, I shouldn’t count on it happening. I feel such jubilation and yet such disappointment, all at once. I sigh and let Carter escort me out the front door.
Chapter Twelve
Olivia