by M. H. Soars
“Strange,” he says. “I must have gotten an aversion for the stuff after my accident.”
Oliver makes a strangled sound in the back of this throat, making me glance his way. “What’s wrong?”
He looks at me and smiles tightly. “Nothing, sugar.”
He’s lying. I want to call him on his bullshit, then decide we’ve already bickered enough for one evening.
Thirty-Three
Saylor
Two days after the dinner, Adeline calls the guesthouse early in the morning. First, it’s the house phone that rings nonstop, but it’s easy to ignore that since it’s all the way in the living room. Felix barks at it until it stops ringing.
Then Oliver’s phone starts.
Curled around my body, he stirs in his sleep, pulling me even closer to his morning wood. There hasn’t been a day since we started sleeping in the same bed that this hasn’t occurred, but it seems we won’t be able to care of it today.
“Ollie, your phone is ringing.”
“Let it ring.” He buries his nose in my hair.
“It might be important. Whoever’s calling is being very persistent.”
With a groan, he rolls onto his back, reaching for the phone on the nightstand.
“Hello?”
I can’t hear the other person, but a few seconds later, Oliver says, “Nana? Is everything okay?”
There’s another pause. Wide awake and worried sick, I sit up in bed, watching Oliver with rapt attention.
“Okay, yeah. I can do that.”
“What is it, Ollie?”
He raises his index finger to ask me to hold on, focused on the conversation.
“Okay, Nana. I’ll see you soon.”
He ends the call, turning to me as he does so.
“What, Oliver? You’re freaking me out. Is Adeline okay?”
“More than okay. She’s feeling so well, she wants to go to the green market to buy fresh produce. She decided to invite Harry to come over for lunch. She’s cooking one of her old recipes.”
“She’s really up for all that?”
“If she says she is, we won’t be able to talk her out of it.”
“Okay, then we better get ready.” I untangle myself from the warm sheets, throwing my legs to the side of bed. Once up, the room begins to spin as a dizzy spell hits me out of nowhere. Stumbling, I fall back on the bed.
Oliver is next to me in an instant. “What’s the matter?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. I think I stood too fast.”
Pinching my chin between his forefinger and thumb, Oliver turns my face to his. “You’re not getting migraines again, are you?”
Oh, I see where the troubled gaze is coming from now. I grab his hand and place a quick kiss on his open palm. “Don’t worry. No migraines for this girl. This was nothing. Like I said, I stood too fast. I’m okay now.”
“Sugar, I want you to tell me if you’re not feeling one hundred percent, okay?”
I lean forward and kiss him. His worry is breaking my heart. I’ve kept the truth of my condition from him for a long time and he hasn’t forgotten about it. I don’t know why I was so stupid before.
The kiss is sweet but short. When it ends, I’m dizzy for entirely different reasons. Oliver’s gaze drops to my mouth, his thumb making lazy circles over my hip bone.
“We really should get going,” I say, almost breathless.
His hand moves up my side to graze the underside of my breast. “She won’t kill us if we’re five minutes late.”
“Five minutes?”
Oliver grabs my hand and places it on his erection. “Feel this, sugar? It won’t take long.”
“You always wake up like that.” Despite my words, I curl my fingers around his cock anyway.
“It’s all your fault.” His finger flicks my nipple, causing a zing of pleasure to travel down to my core. I won’t win this fight. I don’t want to win this fight.
I let go of his erection to push him back on the mattress. Before he can say anything, I climb on top of him, effectively impaling myself on his cock. The beauty and practicality of sleeping naked.
“Ah, sugar. I love when you take the lead.”
“You said five minutes. Let’s see if you were telling the truth.” I move at a faster pace than usual. Not because we have an appointment, but because I’m too horny for my own good. I don’t want to take it slow.
We both come within three minutes, a record for us. Most women would be pissed at that, but that’s because they aren’t married to a god of sex like I am.
I fall on top of him, thoroughly satisfied, and kiss his chest. He wraps his arms around my back, keeping me in place while he’s still hard inside of me. Oliver will be good to go in another minute or so. Too bad we don’t have time for a second round.
“We really should get moving,” I say.
“I know. Let me enjoy this for a few more seconds.”
“Will we ever get tired of each other?”
“Never. You’ll be giving me raging boners until I’m ninety.”
“Only ninety, huh? What happens after that?”
“Don’t know. I never thought I would live past ninety.”
I raise my chin and peer up at him from under my lashes. “You promise to still be turned on when I suck your shriveled ninety-year-old balls?”
Oliver bursts out laughing, shaking me in the process. “The pictures you paint in my head, sugar.”
Adeline is waiting for us in front of the house, pacing back and forth impatiently.
“There you are. What took you so long?”
“Uh, we got ready as soon as we could,” I say.
“Right. And you’re both glowing for no good reason.”
Oliver chuckles while my face bursts into flames.
“Let’s go, get in the car. At this hour, all the good vegetables will be gone.”
This time, Oliver doesn’t ask to drive, preferring to sit in the back next to me. His hand is covering my knee casually, but the lazy circles he’s making with his fingers are turning me on again. For fuck’s sake, his grandma’s sitting next to me. It seems like my hormones have gone haywire. I’m hornier than I’ve ever been all of a sudden.
Adeline takes the lead in the green market, walking ahead of us with purpose. She does feel better, removing one item from the list of things I have to worry about. Oliver is in charge of the shopping trolley, which soon gets filled with all kinds of vegetables and fruits. Adeline stops at a shop with the most luscious-looking berries and my mouth waters. She selects a handful of strawberry baskets and their aroma fills my nose as I pass them to Ollie.
“Oh blimey. It seems I didn’t bring enough cash with me. Ollie, do you mind paying for this?”
“Sure, Nana.” He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and stares at it for a beat. “Oh, this is embarrassing. I have no cash.”
“What do you mean? I saw at least three hundred pounds in it yesterday when I took cash out to pay for the pizza,” I say.
“I gave it to Harry when I saw him later and forgot about it.”
“You gave it to Harry? Why?”
“Because he asked me.”
Oliver’s explanation seems like the most normal thing in the world to him. To me, it’s just super odd. Why is Harry hitting him up for money already? I glance at Adeline and it seems she shares my sentiment, her eyes narrowed in Ollie’s direction.
“I have some cash on me,” I say, realizing the shop owner is still waiting for payment.
“Anywhere else you want to hit, Nana? I can look for an ATM,” Oliver offers.
“No, I’m good. I got everything. Now tell me, why is Harry asking you for money? Is he in some kind of trouble?”
Oliver rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know. He just asked to borrow some cash and I gave it to him. No big deal.”
Adeline makes a disapproving noise in the back of her throat. I keep my mouth shut this time, but the ball of anxiety returns to my stomach with a ve
ngeance.
Thirty-Four
Oliver
Saylor and Charlotte are helping Nana in the kitchen when Harry arrives. Mum is MIA, and no one really cares if she decides to skip lunch altogether. Gilbert gets to the door before I can and he’s already taking care of Harry’s coat. From where I stand down the foyer, I notice it’s not the same one he’s been wearing since I met him. His clothes also fit better and look brand new. Maybe that’s why he asked for the money.
I had almost let Nana’s and Saylor’s disapproving opinions get to me. They think I didn’t notice the glance they traded at the market. I don’t know why they think it’s so wrong for me to give money to my brother; he’ll inherit a third of the Best fortune anyway.
“Looking good, brother. New clothes?”
Harry looks down, patting his jeans. “Yeah. I figured I should start dressing like a Best now.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever that means.”
“Oh you know, clothes that don’t come from secondhand stores and smell like piss.”
“How bad was the Jenkinses’ financial situation? I thought they had money.”
Harry shakes his head. “They’d been living off appearances for years. I’m afraid to look at how much money they owe the bank.”
“Well, it’s not your problem now.”
“I don’t know. I get what you’re saying, but in a way, the Jenkinses were my parents. They raised me. I’d hate it if the bank took their house to pay their debt.”
“How much do you think is the estate worth?”
“I’m really terrible with numbers, but I think around two million pounds.”
“That much?”
Harry shrugs and looks in the kitchen’s direction. “That’s my guess. I could be way off.”
I pat his back. “Let’s call the bank tomorrow and find out. Maybe we can negotiate with them and buy the property.”
“Really? That would be brilliant.”
His eyes shine with excitement, reminding me of his younger self. The guilt squeezing my heart lessens a bit. I’ll do anything in my power to prove to him that he matters.
“Come on. Nana’s dying to see you.”
“What’s that delicious smell?”
“Oh, she’s cooking one of her special recipes.”
“Nana’s cooking? I thought she was ill.”
“Well, she’s not anymore.” I open the door that leads to the kitchen, my eyes immediately zeroing in on Saylor.
My heart skips a beat as it always does when I look at her, even if at the moment I’m a bit irritated with her. I don’t think she’s embraced Harry’s return completely. It’s like she doesn’t trust him for some reason.
I should talk to her. Lack of proper communication almost tore us apart before. I won’t let it happen again.
Nana turns around with a wooden spoon in her hand. She’s smiling brightly at me, but when her gaze switches to Harry at my side, I notice her radiance dims a bit. She puts the spoon down and comes to us, her eyes glued on Harry. She stops in front of him, not hiding the fact that she’s totally scrutinizing his face.
“You look so different,” she finally says.
“Of course he does, Nana. He’s not six anymore,” Charlotte replies.
“No, it’s something else.” She narrows her gaze, making Harry squirm where he stands.
“You still look the same, Nana,” he says.
“Pfff.” She waves him off. “Impossible. The years have not been kind to me. So, Charlotte tells me you no longer like chocolate.”
“That’s true.”
“What did the Jenkinses do to you, some kind of high-tech brainwashing?”
“Nana!” I say. Jesus, she’s worse than Saylor.
She switches her attention to me. “Oh, will you relax? I’m just teasing. Come, Harry. I have a task for you. Are you good with knives?”
He shrugs and looks at me. “I guess?”
Nana scoffs. “You guess? You’re either good or you’re not. I need you to cut some onions for me. The girls refused.”
Harry wrinkles his nose when Nana turns, looking at me for help.
I laugh and shake my head. “Hey, don’t look at me. She’s been pulling this crap with me for years. Now it’s your turn.”
Nana has everything set up already on the kitchen island: a big knife, the cutting board, and a bowl filled with onions.
“Sweet Lord. You want me to cut all these onions? What are you making, Nana?”
She grabs his hand and sprawls it across the cutting board next to the knife. “Something delicious. Now off to work.”
“Welcome back, brother,” Charlotte says, trying and failing to suppress a giggle.
Nana drops her gaze to Harry’s hand, seeming to freeze for a couple beats.
“Nana?”
She snaps out of her trance and looks up at me. “Yes, dear?”
“Uh, Harry needs his hand if he’s to cut all those onions.”
“Oh, right. I’m sorry.”
She lets go of him and takes a step back. I’m not sure what just happened, but it seems to me that her face has gone a little paler. Maybe we shouldn’t have let her exhaust herself like that. I feel a sharp pang in my chest when I think she might not stay with us that much longer. It’s the way of life, and Nana’s lived a long one, but I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.
Thirty-Five
Saylor
Allan has worked his magic and he and the girls are arriving tomorrow. They’ll stay a couple of weeks, and hopefully by that time we’ll be ready to return to California.
I’m in a good mood despite the shitty weekend. Oliver decided last minute to travel with Harry, a trip only for the lads, so I was bored out of my mind. I thought that maybe I could hang out with Charlotte, but I discovered she’d gone off to London earlier.
Abandoned by everyone, I took the alone time to practice with Rita, trying to keep the worry at bay. It worked while I was at it, but the nights were sleepless. I didn’t like the idea of Oliver alone with Harry. I got a strange vibe during Adeline’s lunch. Her reaction to her grandson was peculiar to say the least, and when I asked her about it later, she was evasive.
I’ve been practicing Rita for the past hour, trying to nail down one of my easiest songs. The amps are at the lowest volume possible. Felix isn’t a fan of my guitar riffs, or maybe I suck so hard that not even the dog can stand it.
I hear the sound of tires against gravel outside and drop everything to run to the window. It’s Oliver’s car.
I burst outside to greet my husband properly, jumping into his arms and showering him with kisses. He has to take a few steps back to keep his balance.
Laughing, he says, “Hello, sugar. Miss me?”
“So fucking much.” I kiss him passionately, savoring the taste of him.
Oliver walks into the house with me still clutched to his frame, not breaking the kiss until Felix decides to join me in welcoming him. The dog barks and jumps around us, and Oliver drops me back on my feet to kneel in front of Felix.
“I’ve missed you too, mate.” He scratches behind the dog’s ear.
“So, how was the weekend?”
“It was brilliant. We had a lot of fun in Dublin.”
“I thought you’d get back earlier.”
“We did, but we had an appointment with the bank in London.”
“Appointment? What for?”
“I’m going to buy the Jenkinses’ property.”
And just like that, my mood turns sour. “Why?”
“Because Harry lived there his entire life and it means something to him.”
“That’s fine, but I don’t see why you’re the one who has to buy it. Can’t he buy the property with his inheritance money?”
“We don’t know how long it’ll take for him to have access to it. And the bank was ready to put the house up for auction. We had to move fast. I have the money. It’s no big deal.”
“How much is the property?”
&nb
sp; “Two million.”
I blink a couple of times, trying to process what he just said. Then I get real mad. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Why are you angry? I have plenty of money. So what if I want to spend a little to make my brother happy?”
“A little? Two million pounds isn’t pocket change, Oliver. I see what’s going on here. You still feel guilty for something you shouldn’t, and now you’re trying to make up for it by making ridiculous grand gestures.”
“You wouldn’t be saying that if the grand gesture was for you!”
I wince involuntarily, taking a step back. My vision blurs, but hell if I’m going to cry in front of him.
“I would never have allowed you to buy me something that expensive,” I say through clenched teeth. “That’s the biggest difference between me and your brother.”
“What are you saying, Saylor? Do you think Harry’s taking advantage of me?”
I should keep my mouth shut, but I’m beyond the point of reason.
“To be completely honest, yes. First it was only a couple hundred pounds, and now we’re talking millions. You’ve just met him.”
“He’s my brother!”
“He hasn’t been your brother for thirteen years!” I shout, hot tears rolling down my cheeks.
I hate that Oliver’s taking Harry’s side, that he can’t see what’s right in front of him.
“Harry warned me about this. He said you’d be angry. How foolish I was to tell him otherwise.”
There are so many things I want to say to that comment, but I keep them all bottled inside. I turn on my heels, grabbing my coat, and burst out of the house. Felix follows me, but Oliver doesn’t. Which is fine; I didn’t make a dramatic exit in the hopes he would come running. I need time alone to cool down. I don’t want to say things that will only make matters worse. Words can’t be unsaid.
Without thinking, I veer toward the tree house. It seems that spot’s become mine too. Out in the cold, my wet cheeks almost freeze. I try to wipe them off but it doesn’t help. Before long, I stop in front of the tree house and look up. Maybe it’s warmer up there. Decision made, I start the climb, but when I’m halfway there, light-headedness takes over. I hold tightly to the pegs as the world around me starts to spin. Closing my eyes doesn’t help, and before I know it, my body becomes boneless. Then nothing.