Broken Hero

by Olivia Hayle

  “Oh… oh!”

  His voice is a deep rumble in my ear. “A good oh?”

  “A great oh.”

  I've never felt him from this angle before. It’s slow, and it’s deep, and so much more intimate than it’s ever been before. Oliver’s hands are everywhere. One cups my breast and tweaks a nipple before it searches down between my legs. He circles my clit until pleasure crests again, rising in tune with his deep thrusts.

  I can feel every inch of his body against mine. I reach back and grip his shoulder, his arm, any part of him I can reach.

  His left arm is a steel band across my chest as he increases the pace. I can feel his chest hair against my back as he moves, his breathing warm against my neck. Why have we never had sex this way before? I can't see him, but I can feel him everywhere.

  “Together,” I murmur, putting my hand over his where it’s working between my legs. “I want us to come together.”

  Oliver’s voice is a low rasp. “Yes.”

  Together, we move and twine and work towards release. Pressed close like this, there's not an inch of my skin that's not pressed against his. I never want him to let me go.

  His breathing picks up and I can feel his urgency. “Fuck, Lucy, I can’t…”

  “Now.”

  He groans into my hair and comes with full force. I can feel it, feel his body thrust and the hot pulse of him inside of me. It sets off my own pleasure and I come, contracting around him. For a split second, I don’t know where I am or who I am. There’s only this—his body against mine and the sound of his groan in my ear as we lose ourselves in each other.

  It hits me with startling clarity. I’m in love with him. I’m so, so, so in love with Oliver Morris.

  His breathing slows, but he doesn’t let me go. “Luce?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I’m never going to let you go either, you know.” A strong hand snakes up to cup my breast again, but this time it’s a sweet caress, a comfort.

  “Good,” I murmur. He’s still inside me, our bodies sweaty and intertwined.

  We fall asleep like that, tucked close together in my narrow bed, his arms around me.

  24

  Lucy

  “Wake up, baby.”

  I blink my eyes open. Oliver is looking down at me, his deep blue eyes serious. For a moment, I think we're at the ranch until I register the scent of freshly baked bread. It smells like sourdough, like rye…

  “We overslept!”

  Oliver runs his hand down my back again. “Yes, for the first time in forever.”

  “Wow.” I push off him and glance at my alarm clock. “Oh my God.”

  He sits up with a smile, the sheet pooled around his waist. “I’m sure your aunt and uncle won’t mind.”

  “You’re right, although I’ve never been late before. But—Oh.” I clasp a hand over my mouth. “They’ll see you leave.”

  His grin is crooked and far more playful than I’m used to. “I’ll say hello.”

  I toss him his t-shirt and quickly pull on a pair of panties, fastening my bra. The dress I usually wear to work isn’t in my closet, but I find it thrown over the desk chair. I lift up my hair and turn to him. “Will you help me with the clasp?”

  He fastens it with deft fingers, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. “Your aunt and uncle like me,” he murmurs. “Don’t be nervous.”

  I take a deep breath and turn around, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’m not worried about that part, actually. My aunt has already figured it out.”

  “She has?”

  “We were pretty obvious yesterday. But now they’ll know I… ugh.” I bury my head in the crook of his neck. “They’ll know we had sex, up here, last night.”

  Oliver laughs. I hit him on the shoulder, but he doesn’t stop, and it’s infectious. Soon enough we’re both laughing. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

  “It’s embarrassing!”

  “I’m pretty sure they’ll think we’re sleeping together as soon as they find out we’re together, sweetheart. But if it makes you feel any better, I can try to sneak out while you distract them.”

  I hand him his jeans. “No, that’s silly. We’re adults. I’m allowed to have sex, even if it’s mortifying that my family will know the exact details.”

  “You’re exaggerating. They weren’t in this room with us last night, were they?”

  I pretend to look under a pillow. “I don’t think so.”

  Oliver rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Come on, scaredy-cat. Let’s go.”

  I pull my hair into a ponytail and glance in the mirror. I look presentable. We’re adults, I think again. Nothing to hide. Oliver heads for the door, but I stop him with a hand on his arm. “Oliver?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for coming over last night.”

  His eyes soften and he's looking at me that way again—the way that makes me melt. "Anytime,” he murmurs.

  I take the lead down the stairs to the bakery. It’s still early and we haven’t opened yet—thank God!—but I can hear cheery music from the radio in the kitchen. Phil is probably out doing the rounds, but Claire will be in.

  It’s just my luck, of course, that she pops out from the kitchen right as we pass by the counter. She smiles at us both, as if seeing Oliver in the bakery before the store is open is an ordinary occurrence.

  “Good morning!”

  We have nothing to be ashamed of. I grab Oliver’s hand and smile back at her. “Good morning! I’m sorry for being late this morning.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. We don’t open for another ten minutes anyway. Hi, Oliver.”

  “Good morning, Claire.”

  “Do you want coffee before you go?”

  “Thank you, but I should be going.”

  “Are you sure? We have a new roast… it’s from Colombia, I think. Or Ethiopia?”

  “No, I better be off. The first wedding of the season is coming up.”

  “Oh, of course! But before you go, tell me, what did Sarah think about the cake for John?”

  He smiles. “She loved it, and so did John. They both send their thanks.”

  “I knew she’d like the red velvet!” Claire gives us a cheery wave and heads back into the kitchen. We’re left alone, hand in hand. A slow smile spreads on my face, echoing the one on his. She well and truly knows about us now.

  Oliver bends to whisper in my ear. “She didn’t even bat an eyelid. Do you do this often? Bring men through here in the morning?”

  “Ass.”

  He shakes his head at me, but his eyes are light with teasing. “And here I thought I was special.”

  “Nope, just one of the many.” I pull him towards the front door. “Thank you, though.”

  “For what?”

  “For being my favorite one.”

  Oliver grins and pulls on his cap, once again covering the thick blonde hair I love to bury my hands in. He presses a final kiss to my temple.

  “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Bye.”

  The door shuts behind him and I just stand there, watching as he heads out on Main Street. I’ve never felt this before—this intense mixture of admiration and compassion, of want and need.

  I love him. I won’t tell him, not yet, even though the feeling is so strong it threatens to consume me. All those weeks ago, when I sat on the bus towards Claremont, seeking an escape… Would I have believed it, if someone had told me that I’d find happiness here? Love? I don’t think I would’ve.

  I start prepping the displays. The bakery opens later on weekends, but we draw a larger crowd. People tend to filter in throughout the day to buy our famous cookies. The huge stack of chocolate chip and toffee is shrinking by the hour, but so is Claire’s new variety with crushed Oreos. She’ll be happy to see it’s a hit.

  I smile at each and every customer, so happy I feel like I could burst. Love. Who would have thought? I don’t know where Oliver and I are heading, but I’m beyond e
xcited to find out.

  Mandy pops into the bakery around lunch, camera in hand.

  “Hey!” It’s rare for her to stop by. “This is a happy surprise!”

  “Hi, Luce.”

  "Are you here for a cookie?" I wiggle my eyebrows at her. "Don't tell my bosses, but I'll let you have a sample."

  She smiles, but it’s tight. “No, although I might take you up on that later. I wanted to see you.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, no. I just… I just figured you should know.” She glances around the bakery before she leans forward. “I stopped at Ricky’s this morning for some coffee.”

  “Ah. The gossip hotspot?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Has something happened?”

  “Well, I overheard talk about how a certain red truck was parked outside the bakery… overnight.”

  “What?”

  “It wasn’t bad, you know. Not really.”

  “Did they mention us?”

  “Yes, well, people know you live here, and that the two of you work together. But it doesn’t matter what anyone says. They’re just curious, and you’re new. It’s been a long time since Oliver’s name has been connected with anyone. They’re interested.”

  “I’m not that new.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’ll be new for years, Lucy. It’s how this town works.”

  A wave of panic sweeps through me and I do my best to choke it down. “Thanks for the heads up.”

  “Of course, I figured you’d want to know.” She puts a hand over mine, her dark eyes warm. “They’ll gossip for a day or two, and then it’ll die down. You know how it is. Besides, this way, you and Oliver won’t have to announce it or anything.”

  I nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Does this mean you figured things out last night, then?”

  “Yes, we did. I’m sure we’ll argue more in the future, but as long as we talk it through, we’ll be fine. How about you? Did you survive Logan?”

  “Yes. We talked for a bit, actually.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, but don’t get any ideas.” She raises a finger in warning. “I can see where your mind is heading.”

  I pretend to salute her. “Understood. Roadblocks erected.”

  “Dork.”

  “You know you love it.” I grab the plate with tasters of the Oreo chocolate chip cookies. “Try our new flavor?”

  Mandy gives me a final hug before she leaves, and I’m left alone with my thoughts. So people know. It’s not just speculation—they know know.

  The reasonable part of me tries to argue that it was inevitable. The town was always going to find out, anyway.

  But not this way. Now everyone knows he stayed the night with all that that implies. I like to think I'm not a prude, but in a town this small, with people like Gavin who already draws conclusions about me being a massage therapist? This was not the way I wanted to be spoken about.

  My aunt realizes something is wrong the second she comes back out of the kitchen. She’s at my side in seconds, and the concern on her face nearly undoes me. I tell her exactly what Mandy told me.

  “I just don’t want them to think… he’s my boss, technically, you know.”

  She shakes her head. “People don’t think that way. They’re just curious, sweetie. It’ll pass, especially once they see how you and Oliver are together.”

  “You think?”

  “I know. Tell you what, they’re unveiling the new fountain in town today.”

  “They are? The one that’s been under construction for ages?”

  “The very one. I even think the current mayor will be there to give a little speech. How about you and I go there this afternoon? Phil can handle the cash register. People can’t talk if you’re there, and if anyone has any questions, you’ll be there to answer them.”

  I swallow. I know exactly the type of crowd who’ll be there—Mrs. Masters and her friends. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Of course it is! You have nothing to be ashamed of. Why don’t you show them that?”

  “I just don’t like being the town gossip, you know.”

  She rubs my shoulder. “I know, sweetie, no one does. But you’re strong, Lucy.”

  I take a deep breath. What was I afraid of, really? Oliver and I had done nothing wrong. “You’re right. We should go.”

  “And who knows? Maybe they’ll discover a new lark next week and your relationship will be entirely forgotten.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Thank you.”

  “Now let’s find your uncle, wherever he might be, and tell him he needs to man the front desk. We’re going out to have some fun.”

  The center square is entirely shut off from traffic. Tables with drinks are set up along one edge, and in the center, the fountain is covered with a giant, red piece of cloth. The top 100 hits are playing on repeat from a hidden speaker. I shade my eyes and look around at the crowd.

  Is this far too much attention for a single fountain? Yes. But I’ve kind of learned to like this aspect of small-town life. Claremont locals will take any excuse to celebrate and talk with their neighbors, to spend more time together, and there’s something beautiful in that.

  Claire waves at a group of women as we arrive. “That’s the book club I’ve been trying to get into for ages,” she stage-whispers to me.

  “Trying to get into?”

  “They’re very exclusive.”

  I chuckle. “I’m sure you qualify.”

  “Yes, well, I might have to bribe them with some cake.”

  “That’s a great strategy. Bake it in the shape of a book.”

  Her eyes light up. “Lucy, you’re a genius.”

  “I was joking!”

  “I’m not. Come on, let’s go talk to some people.”

  I extricate myself from a fascinating conversation about Claremont history about twenty minutes later to head to the drinks table. My aunt is right—no one is looking at me any differently. Only one person asked me about Oliver, and that was more in a congratulatory way. Maybe I’d overreacted, after all.

  It isn’t until I’ve reached the drinks area that I notice a small clique to my left, hiding from the sun under a parasol. One of the men is easy to recognize, with his slicked back hair and confident stance. Gavin Whittaker.

  I pour myself a cup of lemonade and try to listen to what they’re saying. I finally make out their words, though I quickly wish I hadn’t.

  “That’s why he hired her, you know. Easy access.”

  There’s a round of snickers. “He doesn’t even have to leave the ranch,” a woman says, someone I don’t recognize. “I can’t think of a more perfect set-up. Home delivery.”

  “Zero work, maximum reward.”

  I look over and see a blonde woman shaking her head. “Well, that’s for sure—I’ll never let Mark book a treatment with her!”

  They all laugh. “What wife would let her husband go there? No, you were right from the start, Gavin. This town is better than… that.”

  This can’t be happening.

  The ground tilts underneath my feet. This can’t be happening, not again, not here, please not here. The cup slips out of my hand and falls to the ground. This town is better than that, she said. There was a world of insinuation in that single word. That.

  I pick up my cup with shaking hands and throw it in the trash before I head blindly for Main Street. I need to get away, I need to go back to my studio. I need to be alone. I can’t let them see my cry, even though tears burn behind my eyes.

  “Wait.”

  I speed up.

  “Wait!” A strong hand reaches out and grasps my forearm. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

  I blink my eyes clear as I look up at Gavin. Was he not done humiliating me? “I heard you,” I say. “I don’t want to be in your company for even a second longer.”

  Gavin shakes his head. “If only you’d taken me up on my offer. At least
I would have paid you. Morris is only with you for convenience, honey.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I, though? Think about it.”

  I shake off his hand and take off towards the bakery. His words, their laughs—it all rings in my head.

  I fight the urge to run. My tears threaten to spill, but I choke them back. I’m channeling the neutral expression I’ve seen Oliver wear so many times. The thought of him brings a new, fresh round of despair. Oliver. What Gavin said… what he implied… Easy access. They made us sound so crude.

  I wouldn’t let my husband go to her!

  That’s what Oliver had implied, too, before he apologized—with me and his staff. All my old fears come rushing back. I can’t handle a repeat of Dallas, with the old rumors chasing me. If people here knew why I’d officially been fired, if they knew the story that creep spread…

  My hand shakes as I open the door to the bakery. As soon as I’ve closed the door behind me, my tears finally overflow.

  Everything is collapsing around me. Only this morning, I’d been happier than I could ever remember being. Now I wonder if I’d been deluding myself this entire time. Claremont would never be big enough for me to fit in. How could my work possibly be seen as professional now? I’d screwed things up.

  I throw myself on the bed. I find that it smells exactly like Oliver and our lovemaking. If anything, it makes me cry even harder.

  25

  Oliver

  “Where do I sign?”

  The delivery guy hands me a clipboard. “Right here, Mr. Morris.”

  “Thanks for coming out so quickly,” I say and sign my initials on the dotted line.

  “Well, it’s a pleasure doing business with you. I’ve heard a lot about this place.”

  “You have?”

  He shuts the doors to his truck. “Yes. My mother and sister came up here a couple of years ago and loved the riding trails. Beautiful place.”

  “Thanks, Dave. Take care.”

  “You too.”

  He drives off, leaving me with a massive, nearly unsolvable mess of wood and insulation on the ranch's parking lot. It's a good thing Lucy won't be around this weekend, because I'm going to build her a sauna.