Tempting Mr. Forever

by Sara Daniel

  Olivia raised an eyebrow. “You really want me to write that down?”

  “Yeah, I do. Just don’t broadcast that I haven’t spoken to her in a decade. It eats me up knowing Liam will also grow up estranged from his mother. Even though I’ve dedicated my life to fixing the mistakes of the past, I haven’t done enough.”

  Her gaze softened with something uncomfortably like sympathy. “I don’t care how great a therapist you are. You can’t control anyone’s decisions other than your own.”

  “Next question.” He pointed to the questionnaire, needing to steer the conversation to safe ground.

  “‘Three adjectives to describe your mother.’”

  “Never mind. I prefer your personal questions.”

  She smirked. “In that case, I’d love to hear more details about your ‘good-enough’ sex life.”

  “We are not opening that door again.” Because he was very afraid he wouldn’t be able to slam his lust back behind it.

  “You’re not married and bound by silly friendship-over-sex rules. So why are you settling for ‘good enough’ when you can have stellar, stupendous, exhilarating sex?”

  Needing to put distance between himself and the woman he fantasized about having stupendous sex with, he jumped off the stool, knocking it over. “You can’t say those things to me. You have a son.”

  “You’re not my son. I’m not saying them when my son is in earshot.” Olivia pushed the papers aside and faced him. “We’ve both had lousy experiences in the sack, and I challenge you to change it.” Hips swaying seductively, she advanced on him. “Right. Now.”

  Sweat trickled down his back. They would be good together, more than good. Exhilarating.

  And then he would return to his real life as a fraud, haunted that he’d sent her on an emotional roller coaster, directly affecting her son’s sense of stability. “I’m not going to be the bad guy in your son’s life.”

  “The bad guy?” She paused a foot away from him. “The only person who thinks you’re a bad guy is me because you’ve set your sights on Penelope. She doesn’t play games with her heart. You’ll hurt her.”

  Finally, he’d reached safe, familiar ground. “If her heart’s involved, she’s not following Forever correctly.”

  “How can you contemplate a relationship without your heart becoming involved?” She nudged his tie to the side, grazing her fingers over his chest.

  With his cock swelling, along with a host of emotions he had no intention of analyzing, he thrust her hand away. “You just proposed we engage in hot sex. Were you planning to throw your heart at me?”

  “I’m not planning to, but emotions tend to be unpredictable, especially in passionate situations.”

  If she wouldn’t guard herself, then he needed to protect her, even if he had to hurt her in the process. “Then you need to learn to control your emotional impulses. The worst thing you can do is let your heart become involved.”

  More than ever, he needed to follow his own advice. His heart and emotions could not be involved—not in a Forever relationship and certainly not in a hook-up with a woman who made his blood sizzle and turned his brain to mush.

  “I am curbing my emotional impulses. Otherwise, you and your damn theories would be buried face first in the deepest snow bank.” Olivia spun on her heel and stormed up the stairs.

  Both relieved and disappointed, he sagged against the wall. He couldn’t have kept his hands off her for a second longer.

  * * * *

  “Dad’s here. I told you he’d come for my birthday.” Austin dashed from his seat by the window to the front door and threw it open.

  Pushing aside the accounting nightmare in her bookkeeping program, Olivia approached the foyer. An unfamiliar man in a long coat stepped from a car, waving to a guy driving a tractor with a snowplow blade down the driveway.

  Austin’s shoulders drooped. “It’s not Dad. Go away, you big stupidhead!” he yelled, slamming the door.

  As he darted for the stairs, Olivia caught him and wrapped her arms around him. “I know you’re disappointed and you wish Dad were here, but we don’t call people names.”

  “I hate that guy. I hate Dad. I hate you.” He tore out of her embrace and ran upstairs.

  Her heart cracked, but she let him go, plastering on a welcoming expression as she opened the door.

  The man’s lips twitched. “Do you always call your guests names and tell them to go away, or am I special?”

  “I apologize.” She stepped aside to let him in. “My son’s birthday is tomorrow, and he has his heart set on his father attending, despite, well, a prior engagement.”

  He winced. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as I am. And I admire your bravery in coming here despite the bad roads and lingering winter weather. I only hope The Scot’s Mansion will live up to your expectations.”

  “I’m sure your bed and breakfast is lovely, but I’m tracking down my brother.”

  “Your brother?” She narrowed her eyes, taking in the stranger’s brown hair, green eyes, solid jawline, and hunky shoulders.

  He removed his black trench coat, revealing jeans and a sweater, and held out his right hand. “I’m Ethan Paden. I understand Caleb is working on creating a Forever relationship here. You must be the lucky woman.”

  She dropped her hand before he could shake it. Caleb wasn’t trying to create a relationship with her. Which meant the man in front of her had arrived to push Caleb and Penelope together.

  * * * *

  Liam fussed while Caleb recorded documentation on validating dreams from his basement visit to Penelope. So far, he had more evidence of Olivia’s interruptions and interference than anything with her sister.

  The room phone rang with the internal ring from The Scot’s Mansion. “Your innkeeper is lovely. No wonder you want to keep her to yourself.”

  “Ethan? What are you doing here?” And how had he discovered Olivia’s loveliness?

  “I’m trying to save your ass, or more specifically, The Forever Marriage’s ass, if such a thing is anatomically possible.”

  Caleb hoisted Liam and jogged to the foyer. The baby stopped fussing and produced a gummy smile the moment Olivia came into view.

  “Whoa, the kid is real. Is he yours?” Ethan asked.

  Caleb hadn’t thought twice about that question because he didn’t need proof. “I know you’ll find this shocking, but the guest rooms are not stocked with DNA kits. With the storm, we couldn’t exactly go anywhere to get tested.”

  “I managed to arrive. I just had to fly around the backside of the storm as it moved out and pay a guy with a plow to escort me from the airport.”

  They were no longer trapped. Perfect. He could work much more efficiently from his office. “Give me a minute to pack up my stuff. The plane is waiting, right? We can be in Manhattan by evening.”

  “You don’t want to go back to New York. The media will eat you alive if you show up with the kid. Have any reporters arrived here? Has anyone called The Scot’s Mansion looking for you?”

  “No.”

  “Has anyone called you?” Ethan asked Olivia.

  She shook her head, her face pale, her gaze unwavering from Liam.

  “Wonderful. Nobody knows you’re here, so you can keep hiding out. I’ll leak some little tidbit on how you’re embarking on a Forever relationship and need your privacy, which is true, right? Meanwhile, we’ll give the lawyers a few more days to iron out the custody issues.”

  “Why don’t you continue your discussion in the sitting room?” Olivia suggested, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll get some tea and scones, and Liam looks about ready for another bottle.”

  “She’s fabulous,” Ethan observed, as she turned toward the kitchen. “What could be better than a woman who anticipates your every need?”

  She anticipated his every need all right, especially the ones he couldn’t acknowledge as long as everyone expected him to uphold the virtue of friendship over physical encounters
. “I should have known you’d like her,” Caleb shot at his brother. “Between the two of you, you’ve had as many spouses as Mom.”

  “And that’s a bad thing? Innocence requires patience and caution. Who wants to bother?”

  * * * *

  Olivia had nearly fainted when Caleb suggested walking out the door with Liam. Despite letting him take over the parenting, she’d been comforted by the knowledge the baby was just down the hall. New York held no measure of comfort.

  While the tea and coffee brewed, she hurried upstairs to check on Austin. She might not have any control over what happened to Liam, but no one could take her son away from her.

  He sat on his bed staring out the window. The forlorn sight wrenched her chest. She sank onto the mattress next to him. “Dad’s going to come next weekend, in seven days. He promised to take you skiing.”

  Austin picked at the bedspread, not meeting her gaze. “I don’t want to ski. I want him at my party.”

  Understanding his pain but unable to change the facts, she wrapped her arms around him. Soon, she would have more kids in her care whose parents didn’t take their feelings and well-being into account when making choices. She could only control her choices, demonstrate her love, and let her actions show she would always be there for him. “I’m sorry the things you want didn’t work out. Dad’s looking forward to seeing you next week.”

  “Who was the guy in the big black coat?”

  “Mr. Paden.” She welcomed the change of subject.

  “Another one?”

  “He’s Dr. Paden’s brother, and you were very rude to him. You need to apologize when you come downstairs.”

  Austin folded his arms over his chest. “If those Padens weren’t here, we could go see Dad for my birthday.”

  “Your friends are coming over tomorrow for your party. They’d be very disappointed if you weren’t here.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” His voice remained sullen.

  To give him space to sort things out on his own, she rose to her feet. “I have to attend to our guests. Come downstairs when you’re ready to apologize.”

  “I’m never going to be sorry.”

  “Sometimes you have to apologize even when you don’t feel it.” She engulfed him in a ferocious hug, kissing him until he pushed her away. No matter how many times she reminded him she loved him and couldn’t wait to celebrate his birthday with him, she didn’t fill the hole his father’s absence created.

  And if what she had wasn’t enough for her own son, how could it be adequate for foster children to whom she bore no blood relation and who were in the midst of deeper trauma and upheaval?

  Chapter 7

  Ethan sunk his teeth into the scone and moaned. “Olivia, I love you. Will you marry me?”

  Caleb’s breath hitched and his hands tensed, causing Liam to squirm. His brother spouted meaningless words. She wouldn’t take him seriously. Except, what if he’d proposed to all his past spouses the same way?

  “You fall fast,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Fresh scones are a specialty of the inn. You don’t have to marry me to get them.”

  “Delicious.” He crossed the sitting room to the silver tray, helping himself to another triangular biscuit. “This one is different.” He took a bite. “And it tastes even better.”

  She bent her head over the tin. “You had a blueberry oat bran scone first. You’re eating an almond–poppy seed now. Plain scones are on the left side of the tin.”

  “You are a wizard, a scones sorceress.” He slung an arm over her shoulder and pressed his lips to her cheek in a noisy kiss. “Caleb, I can’t believe you haven’t gained fifty pounds yet.”

  “Scones are dry and heavy, not my taste at all.” He tried to stick the bottle in Liam’s mouth, but the baby turned his face away.

  “He hasn’t tried these, has he?” Ethan winked at her. “Too bad for him.”

  Caleb cleared his throat, but the action didn’t dislodge the jealousy he had no right to feel. “Ralph fed me all the scones I ever intend to eat.”

  “These have nothing in common with those golf balls.”

  “Golf balls?” Olivia plucked Liam from Caleb’s arms and held him against her shoulder. “Do you have a bubble again, sweetie?”

  As if on cue, the baby belched.

  Drat. He’d forgotten the burping trick again.

  “Our stepdad.” Ethan referenced him as if the guy were still part of their lives. “I’m dying for one more scone, but if I eat another bite, you’ll owe me a new wardrobe.”

  “I always have scones on hand. You can pace yourself. I enjoy cooking for people who enjoy good food.” She held Ethan’s gaze, but Caleb didn’t doubt the jab was aimed at him.

  And she’d hit her mark. Despite shunning the scones and her fancy meal presentations, he liked the food she’d cooked for him.

  “Mom,” a timid voice called from the doorway. Austin stepped into the room, his cheeks tearstained.

  Still holding Liam against her chest, Olivia broke away from Ethan to join her son. “Hi honey, do you have something to say?”

  Austin looked at Caleb. “I’m sorry I called you a stupidhead.”

  A stupidhead? He’d been called a lot of names lately, but that one didn’t ring a bell.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Austin continued. “But I meant what I said about wishing you’d go away.”

  Despite having no clue what the kid was talking about, he admired the boy’s bravery. “Apology accepted. I appreciate your honesty.”

  “I said it,” Austin announced to Olivia. “Can I go now?” Before she could respond, he sprinted from the room.

  She sighed. “The apology was meant for Ethan. Apparently, he has the two of you mixed up. He didn’t get a good look at the man who arrived, only to see you were wearing a black coat and weren’t his dad. I’ll talk to him again.”

  Ethan shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. If he’s going to hold a grudge against someone’s existence, I’m happy to let my brother shoulder the burden.”

  Caleb smoothed his charcoal suit coat, still confused by the apology and even more concerned by the mounting evidence of the boy’s emotional issues. “So I’m not a stupidhead?”

  Olivia raised an eyebrow.

  Ethan smirked. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  * * * *

  Caleb clenched his fork, wishing he’d skipped dinner rather than spend the meal watching Ethan charm Olivia. She eased a lock of her hair from Liam’s sticky fingers, still maintaining her laughter. Penelope hadn’t joined them at the table, leaving him nothing to fixate on but Olivia’s twinkling eyes and glowing skin, while Austin scowled at him.

  Ethan coaxed a few grins and short conversations from the kid, rubbing in his amusement about the “stupidhead” mix-up. He could turn down the public relations efforts and charm until Penelope arrived, or at the very least point some of the goodwill in Caleb’s direction.

  Forking up a big bite of mashed potatoes, Caleb let the gravy-laden morsel linger on his tongue while he savored the taste.

  Oh, gag. Yuck. Against his reflex, he swallowed. He reached for his milk glass and drained the contents. He had never tasted such horrible potatoes in his life. What had Olivia done to them?

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, no evil intent or mischief in her gaze.

  “More milk, please.” Either she’d tried an ostentatious recipe with disastrous results or the potatoes were simply rotten. Whatever the cause, he needed more milk to wash the taste out of his mouth. Thank goodness Liam hadn’t started eating solid food yet.

  As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, he leaned toward Ethan and whispered, “Don’t eat the potatoes. Tell Olivia you hate spuds or you’re allergic to them to spare her feelings, but whatever you do, don’t eat them.”

  “They’re mashed potatoes. Not my favorite food. But they’re real, with just enough lumps to prove it.”

  He stared at his brother’s plate. Ethan had managed
to swallow half of his massive helping without making a scene. “They taste like—” A toxic waste dump. Considering her son’s presence, he bit off the words, searching for a diplomatic way to convey his dislike.

  “They taste like glue,” Austin suggested.

  “Glue?” Other than licking the occasional envelope, he didn’t have experience tasting adhesives, but maybe kindergartners did.

  Ethan threw back his head, roaring with laughter. “Austin, you rascal.”

  Olivia returned, handing over the milk glass. “What did I miss?”

  Taking the drink, he gulped while peering into the twin gravy boats on the table. The one he shared with Austin contained a smooth white liquid somewhat thicker than his milk. The boat across the table contained a lumpier white liquid with dots of pepper and a sprig of parsley.

  In a final confirmation of the unpalatable truth, no potatoes or gravy graced Austin’s plate.

  “What’s going on?” Olivia asked again.

  Good question. The boy was acting out, just as he’d done with the “stupidhead” incident. Ratting him out to his mother wouldn’t solve anything and might worsen their parent-child relationship. But he understood the kid’s situation of an absentee father and an emotional mother. “Austin was explaining his special gluing project.”

  The boy glared at him.

  By providing a steady influence, Caleb could help Austin find his way. “Take this gravy boat to the kitchen. Rinse it clean in the sink.” He held out the china dish.

  The boy hesitated but then snatched it and disappeared through the doorway.

  “I’m Austin’s parent. If he needs to perform chores, I’ll assign them,” Olivia said through gritted teeth.

  “Sometimes an outside influence doesn’t hurt.” As long as his approach didn’t backfire. Now that he had a son, he needed to personally deal with kids who acted out and nip their inappropriate behavior in the bud.

  “Sometimes the outside influence hurts more than you can imagine. What’s wrong with the gravy?” She returned to her seat and took a bite of her gravy-slathered spuds.

  “Nothing.”

  Her expression said she didn’t believe him, and he couldn’t bring himself to eat another bite to convince her otherwise. Dinner would have been a lot more exciting if Austin had targeted the right Paden brother.