She gives a small nod as my mom flutters into the room. “Okay. Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Dad lets Liv go and pours the coffee that’s just finished brewing, while I get up and reach for a cup to pour Liv’s tea. ”I’ve got Liv’s tea. You two go ahead. I’m sure we’ll see you later,” I hug them both and watch them scurry out the door.
Once we’re alone, Liv clings to me again, sobbing into my chest for what feels like an eternity. My own heart aches for her, and I desperately wish I could take away her pain. Knowing I can’t, makes me hurt more.
When Liv finally lifts her head and looks up at me, her eyes are wild and uncertain as she pushes up on her tiptoes. Then her lips meet mine. At first, I’m stunned, unsure of what to do. This shouldn’t be happening right now. It’s wrong on so many levels. But she persists, and I react, kissing like I’ve wanted to my whole life.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, but when she pulls back, I know nothing will be the same again.
“Make me forget. Please.” She pleads softly.
“Liv, are you sure it’s a good idea. You hate me, remember?”
“I don’t hate you. I want you to make me forget. I need to feel something other than overwhelming grief. Fix this Jameson.”
Running a hand over my face, I sigh. Sex isn’t going to fix this. Sex won’t make Liv’s father come back. Damn if I can deny her though. Not when I’ve kept my feelings for her locked away for so long. I’d walk to the ends of the earth to save her. To make this all go away. If she wants me to make her forget, then I’m going to do my best to make her feel euphoria.
“There’s no going back,” I warn her as our bodies touch again.
“I don’t want to go back. I want to move forward, with you,” Liv proclaims as her lips land on mine again.
This isn’t how I imagined this going down. Not at all.
There are a million reasons why I should say no, right now. There’s no stopping, the carnal desire rushing through me though as I lift her in my arms. I hurriedly carry her up the steps to my old bedroom and shut the door, locking out the world around us.
Right now, we’re the only two people that exist.
Our hands fight for control as we shred each other’s clothes from our bodies. Having Liv finally naked before me has me pausing, only for a moment, to take her in – in every ounce of her gorgeous glory.
My cock bobs and begs for her touch. She responds, wrapping her hands around my length as if she can hear every part of me calling to her. “Liv,” I hiss and thrust into her hand.
“Take me, Jameson. Mark me. Own me.”
In the back of my mind, I hesitate for a fraction of a second, feeling like I’m taking advantage of the situation. Deep down my heart screams that if I don’t take this chance, I’ll lose her for good. That thought alone terrifies me and propels me back into action.
Liv lets go, and crawls on my bed, laying down with her body spread out before me. I quickly check to make damn sure I’m not dreaming and then I’m on her. My mouth and my fingers, exploring every inch of her milky skin. Every time I look up, her blue eyes glisten for me. She’s watching every move I make.
“Jay,” she gasps as my tongue swipes against her pussy.
She’s never called me anything except for Jameson. Something I plan to revisit later. Right now, I’m like a starved man, feasting on his last meal.
Her body writhes against me as she eventually comes undone, my name spilling from her lips again.
As I move up her body, I kiss her lips then whisper in her ear, all the devilish things I plan to do to her. She stifles a laugh and wraps her legs around my hips, tugging me closer. The minute my cock brushes against her wet skin, I let out a strained groan.
“Make love to me, Jay.”
I swallow hard as she pulls me even closer, allowing the head of my cock to slip inside of her.
“Goddamn, Liv.”
Everything around us ceases to exist as I slip all the way inside her waiting heat. I take my time until she’s begging for more, then I finally give even in and make her see stars. As she tumbles over the edge again, I follow her with one final thrust.
She surprises me yet again when she pulls me down beside her and curls up; her arms wrapped tightly around me. In minutes she’s fast asleep tangled under a sheet with me.
Chapter 11
Olivia
It’s warm, almost too warm and there’s something heavy draped over me. My eyes slowly open as I reach over for my phone, except its not there. Jameson is. I blink again and look around, wondering why he’s in my bed, except he’s not - I’m in Jameson’s bed. In his childhood bedroom and that’s his arm wrapped around my naked body.
“Jameson,” I elbow him hard enough that he’ll move. “Get off. I need to get my phone.”
He curses and rubs his side as I jump up from the bed, taking his sheet with me to cover my body. Each movement across the room has my body aching from all the delicious ways that Jameson owned me the night before.
I find my phone on his dresser and quickly answer.
“Livi,” My mom sniffles. It’s her voice that brings reality back to the surface and a shred of regret.
I squeeze my eyes shut as tears fill my eyes. “Yeah, Momma.”
“I...I’d like you to go with me today to make the rest of the arrangements.”
Jameson’s strong arms wrap around me as I take a deep breath. “What time?” I’m not sure how I’ll get through this but I know I have to.
“Soon. It’s after eleven now. The sooner, the better, I guess. You should come home and put something decent on, you know, dress appropriately.”
Of course, dress appropriately so that we don’t look like a family of grieving women. I roll my eyes, thankful that my mom can’t see me right now. “I’ll be home shortly.”
She doesn’t say goodbye, just ends the call silently.
Jameson keeps one arm around me and takes the phone from my hand. I’m unable to process anything he says as my chest tightens and I feel like I can’t breathe. I gasp for air, and he picks me up in his arms to carry me back to his bed, murmuring to me.
My entire body feels warm and tingly, and I’m breathing rapidly. Anxiety overtakes me like a wave.
“Breathe, Liv. Breathe babe, in and out.” He coaches me until I’m able to calm down again. “One...two...three...four, let it out. One...two...three...four, take a breath in.”
I have no idea how many minutes pass; it all feels like it’s in slow motion. With my eyes closed, I can see my dad laying there. Pale. Cold. Lifeless. Gone.
“I’ve got you Liv; let it out.”
Tears are falling in a steady stream down my face, and I shiver against him. “He’s gone.”
“He is, and there is nothing we can do about it, except put one foot in front of the other and keep living.” Jameson kisses the top of my head. “Come back to here and now. Focus on what you need to do right this minute. Worry about the rest as it comes at you.”
Slowly I nod. “I know.”
“Focus on me.”
Looking up, I lock eyes with Jameson and see his own sadness, but more than that, I see his strength.
“You with me?” He asks.
“I’m here.”
“Good. Let’s get you in the shower, shall we?”
My legs are shaking beneath me as Jameson lets me stand. He stays close, practically holding me up on the way to his ensuite.
I lean against the counter while Jameson fusses about, turning on the water and gathering towels and washcloths.
“Do you want me to stay, or would you rather have a minute alone?” He questions, softly.
“I think I need a minute.”
Tucked under the warm cascade of water, I begin to sob uncontrollably. Grief sweeps in like a freight train as thoughts of my dad swirl around in my head. Guilt consumes me when the play by play of my night with Jameson rolls back through my mind. I’m ashamed that I let things go that far in a moment t
hat I needed it so very much.
When I finally step out of the shower, I find a pair of Jameson’s gym shorts and one of his old t-shirts waiting for me on the counter.
I take the clean clothes and put them on, rolling the shorts a dozen times, before I step out of the bathroom. My is hair still wet as we head back to my parents' house.
As soon as the front door opens, my mom is standing there, waiting. A scowl firmly planted on her face. “Olivia,” she hisses. “What on earth are you wearing right now?”
“Mrs. H,” Jameson quickly swoops in and gives my mom an unexpected hug. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Ma’am. Liv wanted to freshen up before we came over, so I let her borrow clean clothes just for the ride over.”
“Right, well. That was very kind of you Jameson,” my mom casts her judgemental glare at me. “Olivia, please go change into something more appropriate. And for the love of God, fix your hair.”
Chapter 12
Jameson
The funeral service for Marvin Hawthorne, the man I always called Pops, is two short days later. I’m sitting in the Catholic church that Liv grew up in, listening to Father Bigham speak about all of the great things we loved about Pops while Olivia sobs in the pew in front of me.
I feel helpless, as I have most of this trip back home.
Since we stepped foot back in her house after our night together, she’s shut me out, effectively putting me right back in the frenemy zone. Yeah, it stings like a bitch, but I’m trying to be respectful of the fact that she likely has her reasons and she’s grieving right now.
Before the service began, I offered to sit with her, but she refused. Instead, she’s sitting next to her mother’s stoic form with Pop’s brother Devin on her mother’s right side, while I sit with my parents in the second row. Both her mom and uncle seem oblivious to Liv’s pain. I’ve kept my eyes on the three of them the whole time. Devin and Mrs. Hawthorne seem incredibly close, his comfort almost over the top. It didn’t go unnoticed that Devin’s wedding ring is missing too.
Something’s not right and judging by the looks my father keeps shooting my way; I think he senses it too.
As the service concludes, we all make our way to the front of the church to offer condolences to the family and say our final goodbyes to Pops. For the first time in days, Liv affords me a little more than a casual acknowledgment when she wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight. I do my best to appear unphased when she lets me go and asks me to stay with her until the very end.
With a firm nod, I agree and stay by her side.
The church empties and her mother pushes her forward, “Your turn,” Mrs. Hawthorne sniffles.
Liv casts a tiny glance over her shoulder, and I follow her, standing behind her but not making a single move to touch her. It’s too much for me to ignore when a sob escapes and her body begins to shake again. I reach out and wrap my arm around her shoulder, reminding her that I’m still here.
Minutes tick by, and the world feels frozen as she says goodbye to her father for the final time.
When she finally pulls back and starts to walk away, her legs give way, and before I think twice, I’ve scooped her up in my arms. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see her mom roll her eyes and hear her say something about Liv always having a flair for dramatics as I carry her to the closest pew and sit her down.
Like a beacon, my parents are by our side in seconds. My mom somehow produces a cold bottle of water for Liv to drink and has my, er, uh, Liv, wrapped in her arms, running her hand over her head and whispering to her.
Eventually, Mrs. Hawthorne and Devin walk over. Instead of comforting her daughter, Mrs. Hawthorne snaps that it’s time to leave. Mom promises me that she’s got Liv while Dad and I take our places to do our duty as pallbearers.
With Mr. Hawthorne’s body in the back of the hearse, we all head to our vehicles. Mom is waiting near the limo reserved for family, with Liv tucked to her side. When she sees me approach, Liv’s head pops up, “Any chance you can get me back to the house? I’ve decided not to go to the graveyard; I’ve had enough.”
Rubbing the back of my neck nervously, I look at my mom, and dad, who’s joined our little group now.
“You take our car, Son.” My dad hands me the keys. “We’ll find someone to ride with, and I think we’ll be able to manage without you both. Take care of her,” with that last sentence, my Dad pulls me to him and gives me a hug and pat on the back.
As we exit the church parking lot and breakaway from the procession a few minutes later, I reach out for Liv’s hand. She’s silent the entire drive back, but she never pulls away from our entwined fingers. I only wish that as we step through the door of her childhood home a short drive later that Liv could have the solace she wanted. Instead, we’re bombarded by the catering crew the moment we cross the threshold.
“Mrs. Hawthorne said you’d be here soon and could tell us what to do with all of this food. There have been deliveries from people, all day. On top of what we’ve already prepared at the Mrs. request.”
Not giving Liv a chance to speak up, I step forward with one hand on the small of Liv’s back. “I’m afraid you are misinformed. Olivia isn’t feeling well. I’m going to get Miss Hawthorne to her room and then I’ll join you in the kitchen and help sort this all out.”
Guiding Liv upstairs, I tuck her safely inside the barrier of her room and make sure she’s settled before I go. Her silence is deafening.
My dress jacket is long gone, and my sleeves are rolled up as visitors start piling in. The catering staff and I have been working together to determine what could go in the freezer for later and what should be served right away. We have long since run out of room in the two freezers, so everything else has joined the spread of food that has been catered for today.
Mrs. Hawthorn strolls in a few minutes after visitors have started to arrive with Devin on her heels and the minute she steps into the large kitchen, I can see her disgust.
“What is all of this? Where is Olivia? I told the staff she would sort it all. Is this her doing?” Liv’s mom hisses loudly.
“Actually, no Ma’am. Liv isn’t feeling well, so she’s retired to her room. I led the brigade here. Your freezers are fully stocked with food that your friends and family have all sent. When we ran out of room, I instructed the staff to go ahead and set things out, rather than letting them go to waste. If you have a problem with any of that, you can take it up with me.” I meant to be polite and calm, but there is no mistaking the bite in my tone.
I can tell by the look on her face that she’s contemplating her response to me. My parents step into the room and comment with how great everything looks and Mrs. Hawthorne’s expression softens as she plasters on a fake smile. “Well. Thank you so much for your help, Jameson. You always step up to the challenge.”
“You’re welcome, Ma’am.” I offer as kindly as I can. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling a little parched.” Without a backward glance, I beeline for the drinks and grab myself a bottle of water.
Chapter 13
Olivia
Hours pass and the house begins to fall silent. Trusting that most of the visitors have left, I finally venture downstairs. I prefer to stay locked in my room until my flight back to New York, but it’s not worth being scolded by my mother. Today has been tense enough, especially considering the fact that just yesterday I walked in and found my mother and my uncle, Devin, in what appeared to be a compromising situation. Of course, that was my fault, too. How dare I, not knock, before entering my childhood home. The same house I’m currently staying in.
They offered no explanation, simply floated around as if nothing happened. And here I was worried about how everyone would respond if they knew about Jameson and me? Not that there was anything to know about...us. You know, Jameson, the man who has gone above and beyond, in spite of my often very shitty disposition, to be there for me - in a way my mother couldn’t, or wouldn’t, I’m not sure which.
Reaching the bottom of
the stairs, I take a deep breath and face the small group that is still here. They all do the same thing that everyone has been doing for the last two or three days. Looking at me with pity, hugging me way too tight and telling me how sorry they are about what happened. As if that changes anything at all.
The minute I’ve made my rounds, I try to slip into the kitchen for food only to be cornered by Mom. “Oh, Olivia, so nice of you to join us. How are you feeling dear?” I can tell by the way her words slur that she’s been drinking, again.
“Much better now,” I say, reaching forward and taking her glass from her hand. I take a big swallow, confirming what I already knew. Dad’s Macallan. “How are you holding up Mother Dearest?”
My mom leans in and whispers a threat about how a lady should behave and not embarrass her, that makes me chuckle.
“Yes, heaven forbid I shatter the glass house you live in.” I snark back. No longer able to hold on to every ounce of restraint I’ve had since this all began.
I can see the anger in my mother’s eyes and Uncle Devin’s quick approach. I’m sure this isn’t going to end without a blow. But before things inevitably get worse, Jameson plays the white knight again and pulls me away from the scene that is about to unravel. I want to fight him off and stand my ground, though I don’t have the energy.
“My parents wanted to speak to you,” He guides me to the corner of the living room where his parents welcome me, as always.
“Liv, we wanted you to know, our house is open if you’d like to join us tonight instead of staying here,” his mom, Greta says softly.
“You know what Mrs. Phoenix? That sounds like a great idea. It will just be for the night though; I think I’ll be making my way back to New York in the morning.”
Love Under Construction (425 Madison Avenue Book 6) Page 6