He waited for her to say more, but if he wanted to talk, he needed to get to it. She didn’t want to pretend they were still friends. Friends didn’t lie to each other.
Jamie cleared his throat. “I don’t quite know where to start.”
“I’ll start,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”
His shoulder rose on a deep breath before he turned to face her. “You probably shouldn’t have, but that’s okay.”
“I wanted to help, and…” She held up her hands. “And I just wanted to help.”
“It did help.”
“Yeah?” Relief bloomed inside her.
“We talked. Me and Eric and Tessa. In fact, I’m back at the brewery. We’re making it happen.”
“You’re doing it? Seriously? That’s great.” She started to move toward him, then realized that she shouldn’t.
“I wanted to tell you, but you never answered, and…”
“I was out of town,” she said, as if cell phones didn’t function at a distance. They stood there awkwardly, just staring at each other. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Jamie look awkward before. “Well, I’m truly glad it worked out. I hope you’ll… I hope you’ll keep in touch.”
His eyes flickered to the door, but he didn’t move. “I know what my brother told you,” he said. “And I wanted to explain.”
That snapped her from her awkward hovering. Olivia shook her head and retrieved her wineglass from the table. “There’s no need. Really.”
“No, I want to be—”
“I mean it,” she snapped as she opened her fridge and grabbed the wine. “I don’t want an explanation or…whatever you want to call it. It’s done. I’m over it.”
“You’re over it? Just like that?”
“What do you want me to say, Jamie? We had a thing. We had fun. And if you want it to mean something to me, then that would mean your lies meant something, too. And I need them not to mean anything.”
“Olivia, please listen. It’s—”
“I don’t want to listen! What could you possibly say? ‘It isn’t what you think? It meant nothing? I only told you that to make you feel better about yourself?’ I’ve heard it all before, Jamie. And believe me, none of it makes it better. Do you know what it’s like to be lied to? To be made a fool of?”
“Yes. In fact, I do know what it’s like to be made a fool of. That woman—” He looked up at the ceiling as if it could help guide him through this minefield of manipulation. But apparently the ceiling offered no answers, because Jamie closed his eyes, his brow furrowing.
“Even if she screwed you over, Jamie, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t count. How many other women have you slept with that you don’t count? Jesus, were there others while you were seeing me?”
“No. And that’s not why I don’t count her.”
“Did you have sex with her?”
“Yes,” he growled.
“Then why are we having this conversation? You made a damned point of telling me you hadn’t slept with anyone in over a year. You didn’t even have to say it! I wasn’t asking!”
“I wanted you to understand that you meant something to me.”
“Jamie…” Olivia threw her hands up. “I feel like I’m in the twilight zone! It doesn’t mean anything if you’re lying.”
“I’m not lying!” he shouted. “I don’t count her, because I didn’t want it.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. I give up.”
Jamie paced to the dining room table and put both his hands flat on the wood. His head dropped, the muscles in his neck standing sharp against the skin. “My brother had been working this deal for months. He didn’t want to involve me, but I insisted on coming to dinner with Roland Kendall.”
“Roland Kendall?” She tried to figure out how she knew the name.
“He’s a real bigwig. The owner of High West Air.”
Oh, right. He was a huge name in Colorado business. She waved an impatient hand.
“We struck a deal to become the sole provider of beer for High West. It was a big deal. Our biggest ever. It would get our beer into the hands of a national audience. And I wanted to be involved. Wanted to prove myself. So I went to dinner with Eric and Roland Kendall and the VP of High West…who just happened to be Kendall’s daughter.”
When her eyes widened, he laughed bitterly. “Yeah. Exactly. But I’m not an idiot. I’m honestly not. A few weeks later, she came into the brewery. Wanted to try some of the beer. I gave her the VIP treatment, of course.”
He laughed again, and goose bumps spread over Olivia’s skin at the sound. Bitterness sounded completely wrong coming from Jamie.
“By closing time, she said she was too drunk to drive. I was playing the part, you know? Friendly, helpful. I offered to give her a ride. That’s all I offered. In fact, I very pointedly said that I’d drive her car and take a taxi back to the brewery. She was all over me in the fucking car. What was I supposed to do? I pulled up to her place, and she asked me to walk her in….”
“And you had sex?”
“Yeah, we had sex. After I told her I wasn’t interested. Said I didn’t want to complicate things since we were going to have a working relationship. She didn’t like that at all. Monica is pretty. She’s rich. Used to getting what she wants. She said if I was going to be rude about it, maybe we shouldn’t have a working relationship at all.”
Olivia had told herself she was only listening so he’d get it over with and leave. There was nothing he could possibly say that would make a difference. But her frown edged from scorn to concern. “She said that?”
“Yeah. ‘What will my father say when he finds out I asked you to drive me home and you wouldn’t keep your hands off me?’”
When Olivia gasped, Jamie laughed that awful laugh again. “I realized I was going to ruin the deal. The damn irony almost killed me. It was all my brother had talked about for months. He insisted it was the future of the brewery. And this bitch was going to kick it aside like garbage if I didn’t stay. So I stayed.”
“Oh, Jamie…”
“I spent the night, and then I went home in the morning, and I’d ruined everything anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her father saw me leaving. But in the end, it didn’t matter. Because while Monica Kendall was, literally, fucking me over, her brother used my absence to break into the brewery in an attempt to steal credit card information.”
When Olivia’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, Jamie waved a hand. “It’s a long, screwed-up story. The deal fell through, and my brother had yet more proof that I was the ultimate fuckup.”
“He didn’t understand why you did it?”
“I didn’t tell him.”
“Why?” she cried.
“First of all, I didn’t particularly want to talk about it. Second, what could it possibly matter? Was Eric going to explain to her father that his little girl had forced me into her bed? No, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“It would’ve changed how your brother felt.”
“No, it’s going to take a lot more than that to change how he feels about me, but I’m doing it.”
“Jamie…” She didn’t know what to say. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have told you, either, but… That’s why I don’t count her, Olivia.”
She had no fight against this. She couldn’t stop herself from walking to him, putting her arms around him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Tears choked her voice at the thought of what that woman had done to him. “I’m so sorry.”
His arms were so warm when they curved around her back. He tucked his face against her hair and breathed in. “Don’t say it like she…like I… It would’ve been over and done if nobody had found out. I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t sure he was fine. He sounded more than angry. He sounded hurt.
“So, there hasn’t been anyone, Olivia. Not until you. And it did mean something to me. It does.”
�
��God, I’m so sorry.” She hugged him, wanting to hold on forever. But there was more. “But…your brother said you also got into a fight with a jealous husband.”
He eased away, holding her in front of him so he could meet her eyes. “Olivia, that was your jealous husband.”
“What?” Her hands curled, grabbing on to his T-shirt. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m not. He came into the brewery last Friday night, looking for a fight. Unfortunately, I gave it to him.”
“Oh, no.” She let go of him and covered her mouth in horror. “I’m sorry. That was when you left. He’s the one who—”
“It’s no big deal. I shouldn’t have punched him.”
“Are you okay?” Reaching for his face, she stroked his jaw. “Did he hit you?”
“Hell, no, he didn’t hit me. Hard to reach my face from the floor.”
“Oh, my God.” She tried to look serious, but her lips kept curving up. “I’m so sorry.”
“Are you? You look a little bit thrilled.”
“Shut up!” she said, laughing despite her best attempts to stop it.
Jamie’s face softened. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
“For hitting Victor? No forgiveness necessary.”
“No, I mean for lying. About Monica.”
Olivia forgot her amusement and slipped back into his arms. “Of course, I do. Of course. And I’m so sorry if I caused you any trouble.”
“Never. You made everything better.”
Olivia closed her eyes, but she felt a tear escape and slip a jagged path down her face until it disappeared into the warm cotton beneath her cheek. He felt so good. He smelled so familiar. And she had no idea what this meant. He wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t her lover. Yet she wanted him so much. So much that it hurt like a coal inside her chest, burning through everything.
“Christ, I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
She couldn’t respond or she’d cry all over him and beg him to stay. Just stay. Olivia tightened her hold on his shirt and pulled him even closer. His heart thundered at first. She held him until it started to slow. Then she held him some more. All of his tension was gone. She should really let him go.
After a few minutes, she was strong enough to ease her hold and draw back. “Will you tell me what you’ve been—?”
Her words were cut off by his mouth on hers, his tongue sliding in to taste her. Lust slammed through her so hard that she whimpered and sank her fingernails into his back. The same urgency seemed to take him over. His hands were everywhere, shaping her body as if he needed to remember everything about it.
She was panting, whimpering, immediately desperate. She wanted closer. Impossibly close. When he lifted her, she wrapped her legs around him just to feel more of him. Jamie swung her around and set her on the dining room table.
“Yes,” she urged, drawing back to shove his shirt over his head. She kissed his chest, licked his nipple, while Jamie struggled to lift her shirt, as well.
“Your arms,” he ordered, and she raised them to help. She took her glasses off and heard them fall to the floor, but Jamie was unhooking her bra so she didn’t give a damn. Instead of scrambling for her glasses, she reached to unbutton his jeans. Jamie pressed his palms to her breasts with a sigh of pleasure.
But she didn’t have time for this. The last button of his jeans had given way and she stroked her hand down the ridge of his shaft. “I want you inside me,” she rasped. “Now.”
He groaned and kissed her again. She felt the sharp catch in his breath when she slipped her hand inside his underwear and touched the bare heat of him.
Turning her face away, she begged, “Please. I need you.” And she did. Desperation clawed through her, hurting her heart with its brutality. “Please.”
His hands reached for her jeans. One heartbeat later and he was tugging them down, taking her underwear with them, and she was totally naked, her knees spread around his hips. Jamie’s eyes glittered as he pulled his wallet free and slipped a condom out before tossing the wallet to the floor.
She licked her lips as she watched him roll the condom down his thick shaft, and then he took himself in hand and rubbed the head against her. He slid and slipped until she moaned. Finally, he pressed forward and Olivia sobbed in relief as his shaft stretched her pussy. “Yes,” she said, watching him disappear into her body. “God, yes.” When he’d finally sunk as deep as he could go, she sighed.
“Shh,” Jamie whispered, his thumb wiping a tear from her face.
She shook her head, but more tears came.
“Don’t cry, sweetie.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, but when he tried to pull her gently against him, she refused to let him comfort her. Comfort wasn’t what she needed. Instead she surged up to kiss him, rolling her hips into him.
He thrust and kissed her back, so she rolled her hips again, sucking at his tongue until he moaned and stroked deep into her mouth at the same time he thrust deep into her sex.
For a while it was slow and good and hot as he primed her body, easing her toward a climax, but that desperation was back, clawing through her. Olivia put her hands to the table and eased back until she was flat against the cold wood. “Fuck me,” she ordered, bending her knees to slide them higher up his body.
He looped his hands behind her legs and pulled them even higher. This time when he thrust, she cried out at the strength of it. She was totally open to him, totally vulnerable, and he slid deeper than ever with every thrust.
Olivia spread her arms and curved her fingers over the table edges, holding tight as he began to pound into her. She’d wanted this. Wanted him to take her just like this on a table, as if she’d been served up for his pleasure.
His hands tightened their grip and eased her legs wider. He was a glorious work of art as he worked himself inside her, his muscles flexing beneath his skin like an animal’s. Olivia couldn’t look away. Instead she watched him as she forced one hand to let go of its death grip on the table. She slid that hand down her body, and stroked her fingers over her clit.
“Yes,” he snarled. “I want to see you come.”
Oh, he would. Her body was already humming. Her nerves already pulling tighter around her clit as she rubbed it. She wanted to come for him. Wanted him to see what he did to her.
His teeth bared in a snarl, Jamie let go of any restraint. His thrusts became brutal as he watched her touch herself.
“Oh, God,” she whispered as her body seemed to draw itself in. She felt nothing but his relentless invasion and her circling fingers. She was nothing but this in that moment. Nothing but an animal act. “God,” she prayed. “Jamie.”
Her body seemed to shiver and float up for a split second, and then it crashed hard back into her. She threw her head back and screamed, and Jamie growled his pleasure like an animal as her hips bucked against him.
Her body was numb by his last thrust. She couldn’t even open her eyes as the last tremor shook through his body. She’d wanted to watch him, but she couldn’t summon the will to be sorry.
Her skin was slick against the table. Jamie’s hands eased their hold on her legs. But she couldn’t open her eyes.
“Come ’ere,” he muttered, bending down to ease one arm behind her back. When he lifted her, she managed a frown of displeasure and tightened her legs around him, so he wouldn’t slip free of her body. She wasn’t ready for that. But when he collapsed onto the couch, he was still deep inside her. Olivia snuggled close with a happy sigh.
“I don’t want this to just be fun,” Jamie said, his breath sliding over her shoulder. “I want it to be everything.”
The last horrible remnants of that desperation stirred inside her. It dug its claws into her throat and pulled itself higher. She let it free on a sob. Her tears fell down her cheeks and slid over his skin. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry for what I said to you.”
“Shh. It doesn’t matter. And you were right. I did need to grow up.”
She shook her head. “So did I.”
“I think I’m in love with you, Olivia.”
Her eyes popped open. She must have tensed, because she felt him chuckle. “I know it’s harder for you. There’s the divorce, and… I don’t expect you to return the feeling. Yet. But I’ve never said it before, and I wanted to say it to you. Now you can tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
She leaned back and framed his face in her hands. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Screw you.”
Her gaze slipped down to their laps.
“Exactly.”
“Jamie…” She tried hard to think what to say. How to dissuade him or herself or—
“Hush,” he ordered. So she closed her mouth and just looked at him. His gaze slipped to a place past her shoulder. “What’s this?”
She tried to look without moving too much, but Jamie was easing her up. She closed her eyes as he slid out of her.
“Good Table Consulting,” he said, and her eyes popped open.
“Oh,” she said, twisting around to sit beside him. “That’s… That’s me.”
“Are you kidding?” His face lit up. For her. He grinned and touched the logo on the screen. “That’s you?”
“It is.” She ducked her head when he looked at her, but his finger eased her chin up.
“You’re doing it.”
“I am.” She couldn’t help but answer his smile.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“I’m just doing something I should’ve done a long time ago.”
“I guess we’re just a couple of late bloomers, huh?”
She kissed his sweet smile. “Some of us later than others?”
“Just a little, Ms. Bishop.”
“I…” She couldn’t say it. Not yet.
“I know,” he whispered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
OLIVIA BURST FROM HER FRONT door as if she were breaking out of a starting gate. She was late. Late.
Well, she wasn’t quite late, but she wasn’t early, either, and she couldn’t stand the idea of being late for her first dinner with Jamie’s family. She was driving to Jamie’s place first, so she could spend the night and still leave early enough to make it to Denver on Monday morning for an eight-o’clock meeting with a commercial real estate agent. She didn’t need new space herself, but she needed to keep up with what was available on the local market.
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