“I’ll take it.”
I look out the floor to ceiling windows and across the very familiar McCormick Lake. I couldn’t let someone have a piece of Olivia’s life. Her childhood home is one of the things she treasures above all else. If I’d fucked up my chance of being with her, I could at least keep this part of her to myself.
Then again, maybe I’m at a point where I’m ready to stir things up. I remember the last time I saw her, just home from deployment, driving by her house only to find cop cars out front. I was overcome with panic. When she opened the door, greeting me in tiny gym shorts and a snug-fitting tank top, the first thing I wanted to do was crush her tight little body against mine. I was so relieved to see that she was all right. I had missed her so god damned much, despite all the shit I’d been through. But then my worry morphed into anger.
I had always been protective of Olivia, but this was a step further. I was overcome with an irrational level of anger over her not calling her brother to stay with her. At the fact that she was staying alone. At the fact that she didn’t have a god damned alarm system. I knew I was acting crazy, but I was unable to reign my shit in. I knew my recent brain injury was at least in part to blame. The doctors had talked about the mood swings. The short-temperedness. The short-term memory loss that could all result from the TBI. That’s why I knew it wasn’t the right time. That I had to get out of there as fast as possible before I fucked things up even further. I had gone up the stairs to say goodnight. But when I saw her cradling that baby, I snapped.
“As if I could ever forget you.”
Her words to me from our fateful night in my truck echo in my head. So much for waiting. It was selfish of me to even suggest it at the time. I would be even more of a dick to be upset over the fact that she didn’t when I ignored all her attempts at contact while I was gone. I shouldn’t be surprised that she moved on, and I’m not. But I’m an asshole, so it doesn’t change that fact that I’m pissed off about it.
Satisfaction spreads over me at the thought of just how pissed off she’s going to be when she finds out about my new address.
“Your mom is going to put me in an early grave, God love her.” Dad closes the hood of the car we’re doing a tune-up on and leans against it. “What’s it to her if I get a motorcycle? I’m old, not dead.”
I lean against the car and take a swig from the water bottle he holds up. “I completely agree with you, old man. I’ve always said she’s crazy, but no one seems to believe me.”
“If she hadn’t spent the last week yammering on about the number of deaths caused by motorcycles each year, I would kick your ass for talking about your mother like that.”
“Just give her time. You know she likes to spout off when she’s pissed about something. She’ll cool off.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right.” He nudges my shoulder and ambles out of the shop.
I wipe my face with one of the greased up rags lying around and toss it back onto the countertop. There’s only an hour or so before closing time and it’s been slow as hell, so I rest against the counter, my head hanging on my hands. The headaches are less frequent these days, but if I push it, I get fatigued easily and dizzy. The seizures have slackened off too, and hell if I want a repeat of those.
A tap on my shoulder sends my responses into overdrive. I spin around, heart racing with a combination of fear and automatic shame.
The guy trying to get my attention throws up his hands, keys jangling, and says, “Whoa, there guy. Didn’t mean to freak you out. I called your name a couple times and you didn’t hear me.” His eyes flicker to my hearing aid and back at me.
“It’s fine. Can I help you?” I make sure to keep my good ear facing him.
“Yeah, uh, I need the oil changed in my SUV, if you can. Do you know about how long it will take?”
I rub a hand over my neck. “About a half hour. We’ve got a waiting room around front.”
“Alright, thanks man.”
He turns to leave and a woman steps into the garage doorway. I have to squint my eyes for a second because at first I think I’m seeing things. The bump on the head can cause visual disturbances, not that I’ve had the pleasure of those…yet. Blinking doesn’t erase her presence, though. I knew it would only be a matter of time before we would run into each other. I just thought I’d have more time to get the fuck over her before I did.
“Hello, Olivia.”
The guy stops and looks between the two of us with a stupid look on his face. “I gotta take a piss. I’ll see you in the waiting room, yeah, babe?”
“I’ll meet you there, Chad,” she tells him.
I wonder if this chump is the kid’s dad. Fuck if I can picture her with a dumb shit like this guy, but what the hell do I know?
Chad leaves and I turn back to find Livvie glaring at me.
“Please tell me that you didn’t do what I think you did.”
I grab the keys Chad left on the counter and head out to pull the car up. Livvie follows close behind. “Hey,” she says. “Hey!”
“What do you need, Liv?” I ask, pausing by the SUV.
“Tell me that you didn’t put an offer in on my dad’s house. Please, for the love of all that’s holy, Benjamin Hart. Please tell me you didn’t do that.”
“How could you possibly know that already? It’s barely even been eight hours.”
She growls in frustration. “It’s a small town, Ben. People talk. Now answer my goddamned question.”
I stare at her, cheeks red with anger, her bright red hair shining in the sunlight. I look down to where she is holding a baby carrier-type contraption, a sleeping baby boy inside of it. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad, by the way. He was a good man.” I look up at her to find that my words have caught her off guard. Her anger seems to lose steam for a second, just a second, before her emerald eyes narrow at me. “And as for the other thing, there was a house for sale. And I put an offer in on it. Simple as that, Olivia.”
Her eyes spark with rage. “You can’t do that. You just can’t disappear and then reappear and buy someone’s house!”
I slip into the car. “Someone’s? It was no one’s house. Pretty sure that’s what the For Sale sign meant. So, sure I can. I’m going to be living here now. And you frankly don’t have a say in what I do or do not buy. Happens to be a good investment. Unless you can beat my offer, I’ll be the proud new owner of a house on McCormick Lake.”
“Dammit, Ben.” Her voice breaks, but I stand my ground. “You know—”
Chad pokes his head out the door. “Hey, babe, everything okay?”
She settles me with an icy glare. “Yes, everything’s fine. We’re done here.”
Olivia turns to storm off and I let her, watching her hurried steps as she stomps away from me. And for the first time in over a year, I smile. The action feels almost foreign to my face which has seen a gamut of emotions over the last year, happiness definitely not being one of them. She might be a mom now and she might be slumming it with some other chump, but my little spitfire hasn’t changed one bit.
Something else makes me smile as well, and that is the knowledge that Olivia and I may be a lot of things, but we are so very far from being done here.
Seven Years Earlier
“You’re not wearing that,” Jack says, his voice sharp.
I turn from my vantage point by the truck to see what’s holding us up. Jack is standing by his truck, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Olivia and Sofie. Sofie is smiling widely at Olivia, who is scowling at Jack.
“C’mon man,” I tell him. “The concert is going to start before you even get your ass in the truck.”
Jack turns to me and throws an arm in the girls’ direction. “Do you see this shit?”
Olivia blushes, but doesn’t back down from my stare. She’s dressed in booty shorts that truly deserve their name, as they leave very little to the imagination. The tank is skin tight and a deep purple that sets off her emerald green eyes, even from where I�
��m standing. She sure as hell hadn’t looked like that before I went off to boot camp. But telling him that would mean that I wouldn’t get to stare at her legs all night. Probably because he’d use his famous right hook to blacken both my eyes.
“She looks like she’s going to be late,” I tell him instead.
“I’m not changing, Jack. You can kiss my ass,” Oliva spits out, eyes flashing and her hip cocked. With her red hair in thick curls that whip around her heart shaped face, she looks like a goddess about to wreak havoc on the world…or maybe just me.
“You’re being a jerk,” Sofie says, slinking to Jack and wrapping her hands around his waist. His attention immediately reverts to her own “assets.” Forgotten, Olivia rolls her eyes and walks over to me. The smirk on my face freezes as I catch the scent of her perfume.
“Do you mind if I ride with you? They’ll be all over each other and I love Sofie, but I don’t need to know her that well.”
I laugh. “Sure, hop in.”
Sofie finally manages to get Jack distracted and in the truck. Thank God. The state carnival wasn’t much to write home about; just a bunch of rides that had seen better days and junk food guaranteed to shave a couple years off of your life. This year, though, they’d managed to snag a band I’d been dying to see.
That is, if we didn’t miss them.
“I can’t wait until we get there. I’ve been craving a funnel cake,” Olivia says, leaning a shoulder against the window. Her curves are illuminated in the light of oncoming traffic. I manage to keep my eyes on the road…barely.
“That shit is horrible for you, you know.”
She lifts a creamy bare shoulder. “I don’t even care. I’m headed straight there.”
“After the concert,” I say pointedly.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
The ride to the fairgrounds is short, but the line to find a parking spot snakes through the Florida back roads until there’s nothing in front of us but hundreds of twin red lights.
“Where are you headed to next?” Livvie asks.
“Hawaii.”
Her mouth gapes open. “You lucky bastard!”
“I know. I’ll think of you while I’m there.”
She slaps my arm. “Just for that, I hope this line takes a looooooong time.”
“You’re an evil, hateful woman, Spitfire.”
“Nope, just a hungry one.”
I look at her and watch the play of carnival lights over her face. When I first met her, she’d been this knobby kneed ginger with an attitude. She sure as hell wasn’t knobby kneed anymore and her hair was now a deep red, but I could tell she hadn’t lost that attitude.
We sit in a silence for a while, listening to the soft music on the radio and the horns from passing cars. Her fingers tap out a beat on her exposed thigh and my eyes go right to them. My fingers twitch where they rest on the steering wheel as I wonder what the skin there feels like.
Livvie clears her throat and I meet her eyes. Busted.
I open my mouth to—what, I don’t know—when someone starts banging on my window. Thank God. I turn and find Jack glaring at me, which effectively kills the growing hard-on I’ve got going on in my pants.
He motions with a hand and I roll down the window. “Line’s not moving. Those dudes told us to pull over here and park.”
Probably a good thing. Being in an enclosed space next to Livvie is proving to be more of a clusterfuck than I thought it would be.
We join the mass of people making their way toward the fairgrounds. I hear the squeal of an amplifier in the distance and stretch to see over the heads of those in front of me. A sharp elbow connects with my ribs and causes me to grunt.
“Chill out,” Livvie says. “You’re gonna make it.”
“You’d be the same way if you’d been locked up with a bunch of other dudes for the past year, too.”
The concert arena is jam packed by the time we make it there, full of rednecks and rodeo queens from the surrounding counties. Peanut shells litter the ground and beer flows freely from surrounding taps and concession stands. Jack automatically hovers over the girls. I stay close, though I keep a healthy distance between me and Livvie. There’s no way I want a repeat of the awkward moment in the truck.
A sense of peace washes over me as the first opening band starts up. I manage to coerce a vendor out of a glass of beer. They saw my military haircut and nodded without a word. Buzzed, relaxed and having a damn good time, I weave through the crowd back to Jack and the girls.
I find Olivia, face flushed and damp with sweat. Without asking, she takes the beer from my hand and takes a deep swallow. Dumbfounded, I watch her throat bob. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and says, “Thanks. It’s hot as hell out here.”
Jack is luckily focused on keeping Sofie out of the hands of the surrounding guys, so he doesn’t see her hand the beer back to me. “You tryin’ to get me killed?”
“Oh relax, Ben. One sip won’t kill me. Besides, the band’s about to start. I didn’t want to lose my place trying to get a drink.”
“Yeah, but—”
A shrill scream breaks through the night and is followed by a roar. The crowd surges forward, carrying us with it. I wrap Olivia in my arms to protect her from the sharp elbows and burly guys who’ve had way too much to drink. My arms and back get pummeled, but the crowd flows around us. We lose Jack and Sofie somewhere in the melee. By the time the riot is calmed by the patrolling cops, the headliner is halfway through the first set.
I don’t know how it happens, but Olivia stays in my arms the whole time. I’d forgotten what it was like to be with a girl, not just a random girl who ends up in my barracks because I managed to sneak them back from the bar. But a girl I know, a girl I’ve grown up with and care about. She feels so damn good in my arms I don’t ever want to let her go.
Her body is plastered to my front and she hasn’t let go of my hands the entire time. A part of me knows that I should just walk away, should try to find the others and put some much-needed space between us, but I can’t.
I don’t want to.
When the last note of the final song rings out she turns in my arms and looks up at me. I’m frozen to the spot, my hands resting on her hips, people pushing past where we’re frozen in the crowd. Finally someone knocks into us and I wrap a protective arm around her shoulder and usher her out of the way.
We wind up at the base of the Ferris wheel, hidden in the shadows of two looming carnival games. The crowd spills on either side. Bright lights dance in the distance. For the first time in my life, I don’t have a goddamned thing to say. Sensing my hesitation, she raises her hands to my shoulders, her fingers slide up my neck and she pulls my head down to hers.
I crowd her against the particle board siding of the stand, unable to keep from touching her. She tastes like beer and the sugar from the funnel cake she’d snagged. I lick it up, tracing her lips with my tongue. She nips my bottom lip and I can’t help but grin against her mouth.
She arches her neck and I taste the skin at the curve of her shoulders. Her fingers flex against my chest and she trembles against me. Or maybe it’s me. I feel like I’m a fucking virgin with her in my arms. I nip a line up her throat and my hand moves of its own accord to the exposed line of her stomach. Her skin is satin-soft and I feel her hum as my hand moves upwards. Hopefully she can’t feel them shake.
She urges me closer and I use my free hand to hitch her up against the wall as my lips find hers again. We groan in unison as her legs wrap around my waist. I can feel her heat through our clothes. I’ve never been so hard in my life.
My hand inches up the bared expanse of her skin. I trace the line of her bra with a finger and she does a full body shiver. “Touch me,” she says.
The sound of her throaty voice breaks through the haze of my arousal. Even though it hurts, literally hurts, I manage to put some distance between us.
She looks up at me, her lips puffy and red. “What’s wrong?”
<
br /> “We should—we should head back.”
I take a step backwards, trying to regain control over myself.
What the fuck was I thinking?
Livvie grabs my arm. “No, not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“You’re not that girl, Livvie. I’m not about to fuck you against the wall.” She blanches and I feel like an asshole. “I’m leaving again soon and you’re better than that.”
Her face falls, but she covers it up with a fake smile. “Right. I’m going to go…find Sofie.”
I watch her walk away, cursing myself for making that move…and for not following through on it.
Present Day
Maybe this is my second chance. As I watch them leave, I vow not to make the same mistake twice.
Later that afternoon, unable to stomach my parents’ house for another second, I head to Jack’s gym, almost hoping that he’s there. We hadn’t talked much since I got back, he’s probably pissed at me for sleeping with his sister. If I were him, I’d want to kill me, too.
Unfortunately, he’s not there when I shoulder my way through the front door. I pay for a day pass and a locker rental, hoping to pound out my frustration on the mats. The locker rooms are empty as I change into my gym clothes and turn off my hearing aide. It does come in handy when I want to check out of the world. The loss of sound helps center me…it isn’t always like that, though. Sometimes the silence can be deafening.
The doctors had advised against too much strenuous activity. But fuck ‘em. I needed this.
A couple of guys were sparring on the mats. I joined them to wait my turn. When it came, I was paired up with a big motherfucker. I bared my teeth at him as we started our round. He managed to work in a couple of powerful hits that jarred my ribs, but he stayed away from my face. I return with a right hook to his chin that pisses him off. It makes me smile and the weight in my stomach lessens.
Then he manages to land a glancing blow off of my ear and everything goes white. When I come to, I’m on the floor, looking up at the dirty ass ceiling and Jack’s ugly face is hovering above me.
Warrior (First to Fight #1) Page 9