My phone rang, jolting me out of my thoughts. I picked it up before checking caller ID.
“Hey, baby girl. How are you?” my dad asked, jovially. I picked up on the undercurrent though. He knew I didn’t want Beckett here, and he had sent him anyway. This had come as a surprise. It was rare my father would do something I so violently disagreed with.
“Upset,” I answered, not bothering to disguise the emotion in my voice.
I heard the gust from his sigh. “I didn’t have a choice,” he admitted in a tired voice. His tone, combined with his words, shook me. Never had my father indicated he didn’t have a choice in something. He had nothing but choices. The world was literally his oyster.
“What do you mean?” I asked, hesitantly. As I completed college, Beck had taken over as my father’s right hand man. As much as I hated to admit it, he was perfect for the job. He complimented my father in a way I never could. They worked together superbly, and it was one of the reasons I had never admitted to my father how I felt about Beck. He had become the son my father never had, and I felt like my father had taken that role for Beck, as well. In my darkest moments, I relived the words Beck told me that day on the island. I wondered if I hadn’t been so upset, if I had given us a chance, would we have made it? What would life be like if we had married and Beck had become my father’s son?
“Listen, I know how you feel about this, and I had no intention of sending Beck, but he demanded to come. In fact, he threatened to leave if I didn’t send him. I'm not sure what’s going on here, sweetie, but he wants to be there. For what reason, I don’t know. If you don’t want him there, I’ll call him back, but he was serious about leaving.” I heard the turmoil in his words. He would do whatever was best for me, but losing Beck would be a huge blow to my father. They had developed a tight and loyal relationship over the years. They were an unstoppable team, and I owed Beck for that. I had wanted to take over from my father, be what Beck was to him, but the reality was my dreams had taken a different direction.
I loved fashion and helping people. I had combined my loves into a business model for Beautiful Dreams. My father had given me the startup right out of college to build my business, and it was doing incredibly well. It seemed I had been born with the same Midas touch as my father. But where he liked to acquire faltering businesses and turn them around before selling them at a profit, I liked to do that for people.
I had developed several clothing lines that did well, but it was the outreach program that kept my passion going. I had set up several different programs that connected women and men with the clothes and training they needed to get jobs. I owed my initial concept to Beck. His makeover had inspired the idea for me. My program had expanded to multiple cities and even other countries. Part of my clothing line came from third world countries and the women there who needed to provide for their families.
I knew I couldn’t do what I did if I was my father’s right hand woman, so in a way I was grateful to Beckett. He had helped me find my true purpose in life and fulfilled a role for my father that I couldn’t.
“It’s fine,” I answered, realizing my pause had been a little too long.
“Are you sure?” he questioned me, the hint of relief in his voice stopping any contradictory words coming from my mouth even if they had wanted to.
“Yes. It’ll be good for Beck and I to work together.” I managed to choke the words out, wondering if it was even possible with how I felt. The niggling thought wouldn’t leave me that Beck had essentially demanded to see me. I wasn’t sure why he would use work as an excuse, but I was curious about his intentions.
“Good. I’ve got a call to take. Let me know if anything changes,” he told me firmly.
“Aye, aye, Daddy-O,” I replied, hanging up with his laughter in my ear.
I checked the time and grabbed my purse. I was late for a lunch date with Hannah and Sophie.
“I’m sorry,” I said, sliding into the booth. “Work was unexpected.” They were both looking at me, surprised, and I asked, a bit defensively, “What?”
“You look flustered,” Hannah said, with a smile.
“She does,” Sophie agreed, looking at me closely.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, biting my lip.
“She bit her lip!” Hannah crowed.
“Spill it,” Sophie demanded.
“There is nothing to spill,” I said tartly. “You two are being ridiculous.”
“Classic denial,” Sophie said, in a sotto voice. I glared, but that didn’t stop them.
“Something happened.”
“Clearly.”
They both looked at me. “You owe us.”
“What? How?” I demanded.
“You know every stinking thing about us. You’ve heard our stories. Been at my wedding,” Hannah said, as Sophie interrupted her. “Forced me to have a wedding. Hence why we’re here. You owe us.”
I looked at them in exasperation.
“It’s probably some shipment that didn’t come in.”
“Or someone didn’t like her newest design,” they commented to each other.
“Oh please, everyone loves my designs. At least come up with something realistic,” I told them, rolling my eyes.
“A guy?” Sophie questioned Hannah, looking at her with wide eyes.
“It could explain the attitude.” She nodded.
“The flustered look.”
‘Oooh, she’s blushing.”
“OMG, you’re right. I never thought I’d see the day,” Hannah said, dumbfounded, her head propped on her hand, as she stared at me.
“It’s just someone I used to know showed up unexpectedly at my office,” I admitted, opening the menu, even though I already knew what I wanted.
“Continue,” Sophie demanded.
“That was it,” I replied, airily.
“I somehow doubt that, but we’ll let it go,” Hannah said. I saw Sophie’s eyes widen, as she gestured toward me and Hannah, shaking her head. Their side conversation wasn’t lost on me, but I studiously ignored it. They were sister in laws, and close ones at that. There had been a whole lot of drama back in the day when Hannah had dumped Colt when she was pregnant and wound up with his brother, Ford. Of course Colt had no idea Hannah was pregnant, and when he had found out he didn’t speak to his brother for years. Enter Sophie, who brought everyone back together, but not before almost breaking it off with Colt. That entire soap opera needed its own book, in my opinion.
“So wedding plans.” I rubbed my hands together in glee, as Sophie groaned. Hannah patted her back sympathetically. “Oh don’t give me that. This will be the wedding of the century,” I told her.
“No, that will be your wedding,” Sophie threw back. It was meant as a joke and I knew that, but with everything that had happened that day, it hurt. Something in my expression must have clued them in, because Hannah quickly changed the subject.
She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. She pulled it and me over the table to her stomach. “Feel!” She told me, pressing my hand to her stomach. I felt the flutter of a foot moving against my hand. My smile was involuntary.
“The little man is active today,” I replied, sitting back down. “Changed your mind about the baby shower yet?”
“NO! No showers. This is my second baby. Plus, it’s all about Sophie and her dream wedding,” Hannah exclaimed, shaking her head.
“Oh no, don’t blame me. The only reason there is a wedding, is because of Olivia,” Sophie vehemently denied. She was not one to seek the limelight, even if she was a bestselling author and her husband a famous football star.
“I can easily do both,” I replied, winking at Sophie. Hannah didn’t know it, but she was getting a baby shower. She had denied me the first pregnancy, but not this time. It was all planned out, the invitations sent just that morning. “I’m not the reason there is a wedding,” I commented. “You were going to marry him either way. I just asked to plan it.”
“
Asked? Hannah, do you remember her asking?” Sophie joked. Hannah shook her head.
“I recall a demand. Something along the lines of, “Your ring is beautiful. I will be planning your wedding and no arguments about the size. You can afford it.”
“Yep. That sounds about right,” Sophie agreed, smiling at me.
“I knew you’d try to get away with some tiny thing at the courthouse, and that won’t do. Not with everything y’all have been through,” I said, pulling out my ace. They both nodded, looking contrite. There had been some bad publicity a couple years before, when news of Colt’s daughter had broken. I had helped them mitigate the damage, and to my mind, this was nothing more than a continuation of that. Colt Anderson was America’s dream boy. His story had made news for months, and people loved to hear anything concerning him, or his family. A fairytale wedding was nothing short of perfect, and I would provide it.
I pulled out my dossier and begin reviewing it with them. I got a few uh huhs and oohs when they saw something pretty, but the entire thing was basically so they knew what I was doing. Sophie had given me full rein the day she had said yes.
“Any comments?” I asked, holding a pen ready.
They shook their heads and I arched an eyebrow. “You’re sure? Because when I put down the deposits, it will be much harder to change.” Again they shook their heads. “No change in date?” I asked, looking pointedly at Sophie’s stomach.
“NO!” She shouted a little too loudly, catching the other diners’ attention. She lowered her voice. “God, Olivia, be blunt why don’t you?”
“Well, we’ve already had to change the date once,” I said, cutting my eyes to Hannah, who had the grace to look embarrassed.
“You didn’t have to change the date,” she said, as we both gave her, ‘Yeah, right’ looks. I had to push the date back four months once already, to accommodate Hannah’s due date. She and Ford had announced they were having a baby, not long after Colt and Sophie announced they were getting married. It was a great time to celebrate, but it had caused me no small amount of headaches, as we worked out the timeframes. Everything I had originally planned had to be changed. Between Hannah’s pregnancy, and the demands of Colt’s football schedule, I almost wanted them to elope.
“Alright then. We are ready, set, and go,” I declared, packing up my stuff. “What’s planned for this afternoon?”
When we met for lunch, we usually spent the entire afternoon together doing girl stuff. We took turns deciding what we wanted to do, and it was Sophie’s turn today. I watched their eyes drift behind me, even as I heard him clear his throat.
“Livie.” It didn’t matter how upset I was with him, my name on his lips would always send a shudder down my spine. The widened eyes staring at me almost made me smile, but then he touched my shoulder. “Can we talk?”
I huffed a bit, “We’ve already spoken once. Isn’t that enough for today?” Hannah and Sophie’s eyes met, and I decided to take the lesser of two evils. “Fine. We’ll talk.”
I stood up and gathered my things. “I’m sorry to cancel on you last minute, but apparently work beckons even when I’m off.” I saw the tiny smile dancing around Beck’s mouth, but ignored it, in favor of leaving before the questions started.
“Ladies.” He nodded at them and smiled. I saw his lamentable charm working on them instantly, as they twittered back at him.
I brushed past him, ignoring the tingle where our arms touched. Once outside, I told him, “We can meet back at my office, if you feel we need to discuss things further.” My tone was firm. While I wanted to know more about why he was here, I didn’t have the fortitude to deal with him any further today. Too much had happened, and my emotions were everywhere.
“Actually, I was hoping I could show you something?” I heard the question and desperately wanted to tell him no. The only thing I wanted was a glass of wine and the solitude of my penthouse. “Please.”
Freaking good manners. It was hard enough to deny him when he was being charming, but to throw a please in there too? That was playing dirty.
“Fine,” I muttered, putting my stuff in the back of my SUV. “Where?” I asked, thinking I would meet him there.
“Why don’t you ride with me? I’m not familiar with the area, and don’t want to give wrong directions.” I gave him a narrow look, but nodded. We both knew good and well I could put the directions in my SUV and find it with no issue, but we would play it his way.
He escorted me to a pickup truck, to my surprise. Not that I kept up with him in any way, but last I heard, he had a tiny sports car. Beck had a truck when we were dating, but the years changed people.
He helped me up onto the seat, and I said, “Thank you.” Bad blood didn’t mean bad manners. I looked up to see Hannah and Sophie’s faces pressed to the glass in the shop, watching us. I shook my head at the sight of them. There would be no escaping the interrogation that was coming my way.
For a man that professed to be unfamiliar with the area, he seemed to have no issue knowing where he was going. We turned into a familiar subdivision. It was the same one Hannah and Ford lived in. Colt and Sophie had recently bought a house here, as well, and were having it remodeled. They split their time between Colorado, where Colt played for the Broncos, and Texas where his family was. A few minutes later, he turned down a street I knew well. There was a house for sale that I had thought about buying. It had wide porches and a big backyard. It was a home meant for a family, though. It had been on the market for almost a year, but when we got to it, I saw the for-sale sign was gone.
I anticipated him passing it up, but instead he turned into the driveway. He parked and came around the truck. I knew my eyes were full of questions, but he shook his head, as he helped me down. When we got to the door, he unlocked it and let me in first. I gasped, as the first thing my eyes landed on was the old leather chair we had purchased years before. Then I saw the sofa from his grandmother’s house, and other pieces I knew must have belonged to her. I looked at him with tears in my eyes. Why had he kept this stuff all these years?
“I never stopped loving you, Livie,” he told me, pausing to look down. “I made a mistake not telling you the truth, especially when I knew it was more than a favor to your father.” I sank into the leather chair, the scent of it reminding me of all the good memories. “My second mistake was not fighting for you. I told myself you were young. In college. You had more ahead of you and you would forget about me. What I didn’t take into account was that I wouldn’t forget about you. That the thought of you with anyone else would destroy me. That I would listen for any crumb of news about you from your father.”
“It’s been eight years,” I cried, wondering why now? After all this time, why was he telling me this now. What had changed?
He sat in the chair across from me. “I know. Eight incredibly long years. I thought I could forget. But I couldn’t. No woman makes me feel like you do. June second was my grandparent’s anniversary. It’s also the anniversary of her death.” I blinked back tears. I hadn’t known that. “I was sitting alone in my apartment. Your dad had told me earlier that day that the best thing he’d ever done was marry your mom and have you. And all I could think was that I didn’t want to lose my chance. Maybe I already have.” He looked at me. “But I like to think that you felt the same way. That you can forgive me and give us another chance.”
I was stunned, my thoughts whirling. He was in my dream house telling me everything I ever wanted to hear, and I wanted to take it. But the niggling thought that it was too perfect kept me from throwing myself into his arms.
“I don’t know. This feels too perfect.” I looked at him with questions in my eyes. “Why this house? Why are we here?”
He looked startled. “I wanted to show you I’m serious. I know you love Waco and want to stay here, and I want to be where you are. Your dad can deal with me working out of Waco.”
“But this house,” I said, gesturing around me.
He looked around, “It remi
nded me of my grandparent’s house,” he answered, standing up to grab a photo off the fireplace mantle. He brought it to me. “This was taken in front of their house, right before my dad deployed. It’s the last picture I have of us together,” I cried when I saw the picture. The house had the exact same wide porch and windows. I saw why he would be drawn to it. But it was the little boy standing next to his dad that captured my heart. They looked so much alike, it hurt. The man in front of me could be his dad in the picture.
There were moments in life when you had to trust your heart to know what was right. My heart was telling me to take a chance on him. That what we had was real. I knew it would take time to put our pieces back together, but I refused to be scared of it going wrong.
I threw my arms around him and he held me tight. I felt the tears in my soul knitting back together in his embrace.
Our kiss was as fierce and undeniable as the first one had been. The years slipped away, as we made love on the floor of our house. The one he had bought, but I had always known in my heart belonged to us.
Several hours later, we made it out of bed and into the kitchen. I was starving from our activity, and the fact that we had missed dinner and breakfast. I explored the kitchen, as I searched for food, finally finding a box of cereal.
“I can make you breakfast,” Beck teased me, placing a kiss on my shoulder, as I poured cereal in a bowl.
“I might gnaw my arm off in the time it takes,” I told him, fixing a bowl for him.
We ate our cereal in silence, sharing the occasional goofy smile. I had one of his dress shirts on and caught his eyes admiring my legs more than once. It should feel awkward, but didn’t. It felt like we had never been apart. Like the day he was shot protecting me had never happened.
“I never said thank you,” I told him, and he looked puzzled.
“For what?”
“Saving my life.” I answered, knowing he had. That the choice to save my life had been the ultimate proof of his love for me. I had just been too angry and upset to see it at the time.
The Anderson Brothers Complete Series Page 41