by Soraya Lane
Olivia’s heart felt as if it had slid up into her throat, forcing her breath out in shallow bursts. He was virtually towering over her, his big frame dwarfing her, overpowering but not crowding her.
“How do I be a good husband, Ollie? Tell me how,” he demanded.
If only she could. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than for Luke to be the husband she’d hoped for, but it was hard to forget the past. Trust was everything to her, and no matter how her body tried to disagree, she had to be careful, protect herself. Even if she did want him so badly she was almost slithering to the floor into a pool of liquid.
“How, Ollie?” he asked again. He was so close that she could feel each word as he punched it out, his mouth within dangerous proximity to hers. “Tell me how.” His voice was deep, raspy, dangerous.
Luke stopped asking questions and reached for her chin instead, his thumb forcing her to meet his stare. There, she saw the pain in his eyes—the desperation mixed with need, much like what she felt inside.
She couldn’t answer him. Her eyes were locked on his as if she was transfixed, her mouth clamped shut as if she was scared of opening it. Every hair, every pore of her body was on high alert.
“Just tell me how.” His voice was barely a whisper now, cracked with emotion, and the tightness in her throat forced her to realize she was choking up, too.
“Luke...”
He didn’t wait to hear her excuse, but kept his thumb under her chin and somehow shuffled his body even tighter against hers. She was stuck between the edge of the counter and a huge male frame, six foot four inches of lean muscle and determination. She swallowed a lick of excitement. Most of her wanted to run, but the part of her she couldn’t defy was telling her to stay. To enjoy.
He brought his lips down to hers painstakingly slowly, until he was only a breath away. Then he closed the remaining distance fast. Kissed her so hard her fingers leaped to take hold of his arms, which snaked around her to keep her locked against his body.
Olivia consumed his kiss like an alcoholic searching for a sip of tequila, drowning in it like a junky floating in a drug-induced haze. It was as if she’d been sober for two long years, and she was finally fueling her addiction.
But her addiction wasn’t for a substance, it was for a man who’d sent her crazy from the moment she’d first set eyes upon him. From their very first kiss. Their very first date. The very first night she’d spent in his arms.
His lips moved more desperately against hers, and Olivia didn’t fight his embrace or his kisses. Luke scooped her up and placed her on the countertop, and she wrapped her legs right around his waist, forcing their bodies even closer.
“Mommy!”
Luke jumped a step back as a scream from down the hall pierced the silence around them.
Olivia blinked twice, still lost in the moment. Her hand fluttered to his mouth, still so close to hers.
“Mommy!”
“I’ll go to him.” Luke’s voice was calm, deep.
She couldn’t move. Olivia looked at Luke, at the flush of his cheeks, the ruffled mess of his hair. What had just happened? How had she let things get so out of control?
“Ollie?”
She snapped out of it. “Aah, he has nightmares. Are you sure...?”
“I’ll go.” Luke stepped closer to her again and kissed her cheek, his lips warm as they touched her skin.
Ollie watched him walk down the hall, then glanced at the bowl of unused icing.
So much for staying up late to finish the cake.
Instead, she’d let herself be seduced by her husband. And she’d more than enjoyed it.
She’d loved it.
CHAPTER NINE
OLIVIA FELT AS if she’d blown all the air out of her lungs. Balloons filled the room, a burst of colors that enlivened the white walls. She was trying to fill her mind with the party, with thoughts of the little boys who would be arriving soon, but she couldn’t.
While Luke had been away, she’d thought about him a lot. When she was hating him, grieving for him, wishing for him—at every stage. But nothing beat the way she was thinking about him now. The way he moved, straight-backed and confident, like the soldier he was. The coil of his biceps when he reached for something, the breadth of his shoulders when he stood before her. Everything about him was making her think, making her want, and it was starting to drive her crazy.
A soft thud made her look up. Speak of the devil. She spotted him from the corner of her eye, saw him move through the kitchen and tried not to watch him. It was an impossible task.
Luke looked up. Heat made her cheeks burn as their eyes met—like a flame ignited with the strength of hell’s fury. Olivia tried to look away, to break the stare, but she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. And neither did Luke.
“Hey.” His voice was a low rumble.
Olivia swallowed. “Hi.”
She tried to go back to blowing the balloons, but was out of breath. She’d blown up twenty-odd balloons in a row, but one word to Luke and she was suddenly incapable.
“The streamers are flying at the gate and the sign’s up on the porch,” he told her.
“Huh.” Where were the witty words when she needed them? “Thanks.”
“You okay?” Luke walked toward her. “Need a hand?”
She absorbed the snug fit of his white T-shirt, the tan of his bare feet, even the slight length of his hair. Mussed as if he’d just rolled out of bed.
Olivia gulped and passed him the balloon. He took it from her with a smile and pressed his lips to the opening. His steady breaths reminded her of his role as a soldier. Was he so kind, so thoughtful, so steady in the field?
She shook her head and pushed the thoughts away. When had she gone from thinking about him leaving them to describing him as thoughtful? The man had left them, alone, until he’d swept back into their lives last week. She needed to remember that and not get carried away with things like kissing in the kitchen the night before or...
“You sure you’re okay?”
Luke’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.”
He gave one final blow, then tied the end in a knot. “All done now?” he asked.
“All done.”
They stood looking at one another. Ollie kept trying to think about why they couldn’t be together, why she could never trust him again. But he was making it hard. Her eyes trailed over his face. He just stared at her, the iron clamp of his jaw softening as he gazed back.
When Olivia looked away at last, she felt like a deer just rescued from the glare of lights in the dark. She couldn’t trust herself around him. The pull was too great and it was slowly, surely, breaking all her defenses. He was making her feel as if there was no way out, no way back, except into his arms. And she was wanting it more and more.
“Mommy!”
That did it. Saved by the kid again. Olivia stepped aside and moved in the direction of Charlie’s voice.
“Ollie.” Luke touched her arm, gripped her wrist and stopped her from moving. She looked up, a shiver catching in her back.
She thought he was going to kiss her, say something important, anything. But he just watched her, his gaze digging deep into her heart.
The moment passed. He let go. And Olivia walked toward her son’s room. She could feel Luke still standing behind her. Not moving. Immobile, like a statue.
As she walked, she’d never felt more alone. Because this time she’d wanted him to do something, to kiss her again, to pull her into his arms, or to simply take her hand and walk with her down the hall.
But he’d done nothing.
Just like how he’d left her. Alone, when she’d been so desperate for his touch, desperate to tell him she was sorry and that she didn’t want to fight with him any
more. And just like before, it was as if a wound had opened within her, raw and painful. Because Luke was the first person she’d ever truly trusted, and she wanted so badly to go back to that place again. Where she could trust him with all her heart and not be worrying about when he was going to leave, or that he was staying with her only out of duty. Again.
“Mommy!”
“I’m coming, honey,” she called back. In one more step she was in his bedroom.
“Look!”
She looked down and couldn’t help but smile. Luke had given him a gun for his birthday, but not the big, black, glossy one she had dreaded. It was carved from timber, a beautifully crafted toy that Charlie had hold of as if he’d never let go.
“Daddy made it himself. Can I show my friends?”
She nodded. “Sure thing.”
Olivia sensed more than heard Luke behind them. She didn’t know if she could even turn to acknowledge him. Every little thing that happened, every action that made them more like a family, terrified her. She had thought he’d make more mistakes, that it would be easier to blame him and push him away. But everything he did right now only seemed to make her want him more.
She kept her shoulders straight, determined to remain confident no matter how she felt. And sure enough, when she turned, those eyes were waiting for her, and she needed every ounce of her strength not to step into his arms. Those smiling, soft, concerned eyes that had been entrenched in her heart since the day she’d met him were focused on her. As if he could see straight through her and into every emotion pummelling her body.
“We all ready for the party?” he asked.
Ollie nodded. As ready as she’d ever be to introduce her husband to the friends she’d made in his absence.
“Will they be here soon?”
Charlie broke their spell. His little voice pulled their gazes from one another, reminding them that they weren’t alone in the room.
“Let’s get out there, kiddo,” she said. “They’ll all be here before you know it.”
Luke shifted his weight from the doorjamb and she watched him move away. A ball of worry stuck in her throat. This was harder than she’d expected. A whole lot harder and then some.
* * *
The squeals of children echoed around the room and Luke’s head started to pound. He wasn’t used to this. The noise level was too much, too loud, too happy. He’d never heard anything like it. In war zones there was often noise, either hardly a sound or the reverberating of bullets like a curtain of terror. But even war was nothing like this.
Luke looked over at Ollie. Just the sight of her dulled the thumping in his head, the strain in his neck.
She was talking to a friend, a mother of one of the children. Her head was tilted slightly as she listened, mouth parted as she laughed, and Luke couldn’t look away.
All his life he’d felt a hollow void within him at not knowing his family, at not having parents, at missing out on the childhood he could have had, had they been alive. There were plenty of other children at his school, in his life, who’d easily had it as rough as he had, so he’d never realized quite how much he’d missed. How much of the fun and joy he’d been deprived of as a child. Fun and happiness that his son was so lucky to be experiencing.
“Dad!”
Luke looked down to find Charlie tugging the leg of his jeans.
“Can you show them the soldier’s wave?”
Luke guessed these kids didn’t have soldiers for dads, but the last thing he’d wanted was to draw attention to himself. “They don’t want to see, buddy,” he told him.
Luke caught Olivia’s gaze. She was watching him from across the room. So were some of the other moms.
He looked down at Charlie, who was pouting, his lips pulling down into a frown, something Luke had never seen him do before.
“Charlie...”
He had that I’m-gonna-cry look on his face again, and Luke felt like crap for shooting him down. It was time Luke learned how to do what he was told.
“Okay, boys,” he said, looking at the four eager faces turned up at him. “You need to spread your feet apart like this.” Luke paused and stood still. Each little boy mimicked him, grins slapped on their faces. “Then you keep your arm stiff, bend and salute.”
They were all following his lead and Luke had to try hard not to laugh. Such serious faces for a moment, then grinning and goofy the next. “Good work,” he praised, internally kicking himself for being such a jerk when his son had asked him the first time.
Charlie kept hold of his legs, not ready to let go of his dad yet.
“You having a good birthday?” Luke asked him.
The boy nodded his head vigorously but still clung on. Tightly. The other boys had moved away and Luke wasn’t sure what to do. Was Charlie hanging around so he could be with his dad? Was Luke meant to pick him up or would that be babying him?
From the corner of his eye he could see Ollie watching them still, and he had no idea what was expected of him.
So he did the only thing he could do, and went with his instincts. He scooped his son up high in his arms. “You sure you’re all right, bud?” He tucked a finger under his chin to tilt his face up, but Charlie resisted for a moment, before turning his big brown eyes up to him.
“Charlie? Tell me what’s wrong,” he insisted.
“I don’t want to share you,” his son whispered.
Luke digested the words. If the boy hadn’t looked so serious he would have laughed. Didn’t want to share him? As if he was some new toy he didn’t want anyone else to play with?
“You don’t share me, Charlie. I’m your dad, no one else’s.”
Charlie twisted his mouth and squirmed, before giving him a shy smile. Luke could see the confusion in his eyes.
“But I want you just for me, and Tom said he wanted a cool dad like you, too.”
Luke was flattered, but he had a feeling this conversation was stemming from something deeper. Charlie no doubt already had issues about not having his dad around, and now that he was home, didn’t like to think about Luke going away again. About losing him.
It scared the hell out of Luke to think a four-year-old could already have issues, problems, conflict in his mind. But there was no mistaking it.
“You know what? Why don’t we go out and show your friends what playing soldiers is all about.”
Charlie looked up at him, his eyes like saucers. “Really?”
“Yeah, or cops and robbers or something. Anything you’d like.”
Charlie nodded.
“I’ll be on your team, so you can have me all to yourself.”
He dropped Charlie to the ground and followed him out. There was still a lot he didn’t know about parenthood, but trying to make his son feel secure was a lesson he knew only too well. He’d had no one in his own life who cared enough about keeping him safe, but with Charlie, he could change that pattern. Had to change it.
Because otherwise he was just as bad as the foster parents who’d treated him like he wasn’t worth the space he took up in their homes.
* * *
Olivia had an unfamiliar flutter tickle her throat. In all the time she’d been in charge of Charlie, been his number one, she’d never seen him look like this. Perhaps it was the party, maybe even the excitement of being that much older and enjoying his birthday, but deep down she guessed it was more serious.
Charlie was besotted with his father, that much was obvious, and it only made her fear deepen. It took hold with an iron fist inside her, and made her worry more than she’d ever known was possible. That dread within her that reminded her how quickly this could all disappear, how heartbroken her boy could be, with her left to pick up the pieces. She wanted so badly to push the thoughts away, to live in the now and take her husband for the man he was being
right now. But being a mom changed everything.
Her son was her world, was her top priority in life, and seeing him so happy, so overawed by his father, only made her worry increase. It would affect him for the rest of his life to get to know his dad and then have him leave. And having him here at this age, knowing what it was like to have his dad at home, was worse than never knowing him. Charlie would never forget this time they’d spent together. Never.
Ollie looked up when she felt eyes upon her. Not just anyone’s eyes, but the deep, dark eyes of her husband. She put down the knife she was holding, covered in chocolate icing.
“That’s a good-looking cake.”
She smiled. It was a great cake. But it wasn’t the cake she was thinking about.
“Mmm-hmm.”
She raised her head and Luke winked at her. It sent a shiver down her spine even more delicious than the chocolate she was looking at.
“Need a hand carrying it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Please.”
Luke moved toward her, his tall frame engulfing the small space. She was suffocated by his presence, like an insect caught in a spider’s sticky web. Her feet were rooted to the spot, and although she wanted to move, to flee, memories of the night before kept her stuck like glue.
He brushed against her as he moved past, just the softest touch of his bare arm against hers. It made the tiny hairs prickle, her skin grow taut...and suddenly all she could think about was what they’d been doing in the kitchen barely twelve hours earlier. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
Luke paused before picking up the cake. “Am I doing okay?”
His question took her by surprise. “You’re doing fine, Luke,” she said. “Really fine.”
He turned to her, his eyebrows forming a crease as he searched her face. “Really?”
She nodded.
“Because I feel like I could be making an idiot out of myself here and not know it.”