That had kept me on the straight and narrow.
I stepped out of my truck gingerly because my body was sore after therapy. As I walked up the front path, I did my best to keep my eyes focused ahead. I still couldn’t believe what I’d seen this morning, or that I hadn’t been able to look away when I’d seen it. But before I unlocked my door, my eyes cut over to her window. I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear music playing.
As much as I wanted to knock on her door, I knew that would be a bad idea. I forced myself to open my door and go inside, but it wasn’t easy. Olivia Calhoun had always been my kryptonite.
When we were young, I didn’t mind being drawn to her. I just loved being around her. I loved that she was so easy to talk to, I could tell her anything, and she never told anyone. I’d never been able to say no to her. The only time I’d ever cheated on a coin toss was when we’d flipped to see if Olivia would be allowed in our tree fort. I said that it was tails when it had really landed on heads because I hadn’t wanted her to be upset.
My feelings for her had always been strong but nothing could have prepared me for the first day of eighth grade when she’d walked into the quad with Bentley.
I’d never forget it for as long as I live. Her blonde hair was shimmering in the morning sun. The moment our eyes met; a wide smile spread across her face. Seeing her made me feel more nervous than I ever had before any competition.
She walked right up to me, threw her arms around my neck, and hugged me. When she did, my heart started pounding, my palms got sweaty and it felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. It was also the first time I’d ever popped a boner in public.
I’d stepped away from her and put my backpack in front of me. I was sure that someone would notice or that she would say something, but neither of those things happened. She just talked to me like everything was normal. When the bell rang and we all went our separate ways, I was convinced Bentley would call me out on how weird I was acting, but he didn’t.
That day, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else during homeroom, shop, and P.E. When the bell rang for lunch, I met Bentley and Travis in the spot that we’d been meeting at since we started Wishing Well Middle School in sixth grade, but this time Olivia was with them.
As soon as I saw her, it all started again. My palms got sweaty. My heart raced a million miles a minute. I felt like I was going to throw up. I didn’t speak to her that entire lunch and I’d barely said anything to her since that day. For years after that, I’d assumed that my feelings for her would go away. I thought it was a phase and I’d grow out of it. Unfortunately, every time I saw her, they only intensified.
By the time I graduated, I was sure that she must think that I was a total asshole, or weird. But then, the night before I left to go on my first national circuit when I was sixteen, I found a letter from her in my bag. A letter that I still kept in my wallet to this day.
I never told her I found it, because what was the point? How could I tell her that I loved her, but I didn’t want to settle down? How could I tell her that she was the only person I’d ever loved, but she deserved better than me? How could I make her understand what she meant to me, but not offer her anything in return?
For years, every time I spoke to my parents, my brothers, or Bentley I had been sure that they were going to tell me that she’d met someone and was engaged. I would have bet every last dollar I’d ever made that she would be married with at least one kid by now.
But that had never happened. I’d never even heard of her having a serious boyfriend. And in this town, someone would have known if she had.
I wasn’t who she was supposed to be with. She deserved better than me. She had before I was injured and she sure as hell did now.
But fuck, I missed her. I missed the girl I’d known, and I hated not knowing the woman that she’d become. But just like my career ending, I only had myself to blame.
I’d just grabbed a beer from the fridge and lowered down into the recliner when I heard a knock on the door. I almost ignored it. In L.A., the only people that knocked on doors unannounced were either delivery drivers or Jehovah’s Witnesses. But then I remembered where I was.
This was Wishing Well. People stopped by all the time without calling or texting first. I was sure by now the entire town knew that I was staying at Bentley’s. It could be my parents, my brothers, Bentley, or one of my other friends. Or it could just be a random person dropping off a casserole or plant as a homecoming gift.
Whoever it was, I knew that I couldn’t ignore them. They’d just keep knocking or come back tomorrow.
I stood and flinched when I did. The stabbing pain only lasted for a moment before a tingling numbness and dull ache replaced it. With each step I took toward the front door the ache got deeper. PT days were always tough, but after spending three days in the car, this one had been particularly brutal.
By the time I made it to the door, there were beads of sweat forming on the base of my neck. I was going to thank whoever was on the porch for stopping by and tell them I was tired and going to turn in early.
My eyes were cast down when I opened it and I was not expecting to see huge brown eyes staring up at me. A gorgeous golden lab was seated next to Olivia, who was carrying a large tote bag.
She smiled and, in that moment, it was like no time had passed at all. We were back in middle school. My hands grew damp, my pulse raced, and I couldn’t breathe.
Chapter 10
Olivia
“The key to success is to focus on what can go right, not on what can go wrong.”
~ Maggie Calhoun
Why in the name of Dolly Parton did Holden Reed have to be so damn good looking? It’s not fair, I thought to myself as I smiled trying not to show how affected I was by being face to face with him.
I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d seen him up close and personal and it was staggering the difference this view made.
After all these years, he looked exactly the same and totally different at the same time. The scar that cut through his right eyebrow that he’d gotten when he’d been helping unload a horse at the rodeo when he was ten and taken a hoof to the face was still there. His nose still had a bump in the center from being broken when he took a header over the handlebars of his ten-speed when he’d been racing Bentley and Travis across Old Man Spratt’s field. His eyes that were bluer than the ocean were still surrounded by thick, dark lashes.
But he did have some wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time I saw him. And there were also dark circles beneath his eyes that he’d never had, but I thought might be because of the pain he was in. But the biggest change was the beard that covered his strong jaw. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch it.
“Hi,” I finally managed to say.
“Hi.”
This was going well so far. He was speaking to me, at least. “I just wanted to stop by and welcome you to the duplex. Well, we did.” I dipped my chin toward Channing.
“Who’s this?” He looked down.
“This is Channing Tatum.”
“Hi, Channing Tatum.” Holden bent over to pet Channing on his head.
Channing ate up the attention and so did I. There was a reason that firefighters did calendars with dogs, and there were entire Instagram pages devoted to hot guys with dogs. There was something really sexy about the combo.
I was mid-swoon when Holden slowly stood back up. I watched the color drain from his sun kissed skin as he straightened. When he was fully upright, he held himself perfectly still as if even the slightest movement would be excruciating.
The nurturer in me was screaming to reach out and put my arm around him to support him, or to do something, anything, to make him feel better. But Holden had never been one that appreciated anyone fussing over him. Which was probably why he hadn’t let his mom come and visit him.
I tried not to let the fact that I could see how much discomfort he was in show on my face as I held u
p my secret weapon. “Can we come in? We brought dinner.”
At the mention and movement of the food Channing’s tail thumped against the wood planks of the porch.
Holden’s jaw tensed and his nostrils flared. It was obvious that he wanted to turn me away, but I knew he wouldn’t because that wouldn’t be very neighborly. He’d been raised better than that. His manners wouldn’t allow him to shut the door in my face.
Just as I’d predicted, he stepped back and held open the door, but he didn’t look very happy about it. Channing, who was used to visiting Bentley, trotted into the condo and made himself right at home.
I wondered if I should drop off the food and leave so he could rest. But I quickly dismissed that idea. He’d had two months of getting through this on his own. Besides, he’d moved next door to me. He’d agreed to keep an eye on me. I didn’t do those things. He did.
As I walked past him, I couldn’t resist inhaling deeply. Even when we were kids, Holden had always smelled like a mixture of Irish Spring soap, fresh laundry, and musk. I wasn’t sure how he pulled that off at seven, but he had. When the scent that was uniquely his hit my olfactory system, my lady parts fluttered. A tingle spread across every inch of bare skin on my body. Goosebumps broke out on my legs.
The energy between us was electric, and it boggled my mind that he didn’t feel it. How could he be so unaffected? I heard him inhale and wondered if maybe he wasn’t. Maybe, just maybe, he’d missed the way I smelt too.
“Is that your mom’s famous fried chicken?”
Or maybe he just missed my mom’s cooking. I’d called her for the recipe as soon as I’d left the diner and I’d spent all afternoon cooking. I figured even if he didn’t want to see me, there was no way that he’d turn away my mom’s fried chicken.
“Yep. I wasn’t sure when the last time you had a home-cooked meal was.”
“It’s been a long time.”
His deep voice sent a thrill racing down my spine, but I did my best to ignore it. I walked straight back to the kitchen. Channing followed along his tail wagging. He circled three times before plopping down in his corner. The dog bed Bentley had bought for him was still sitting in his area.
“Have you eaten?” If he said yes, then I’d know he wanted me to leave. But if he said no, then I knew he wanted me to stay. I held my breath waiting for his response.
“No.”
My lips curled up in a smile as I set my bag down on the butcher block island and started pulling plates out of the cabinets.
“Make yourself at home.”
If anyone else was saying that, my social graces would kick in. But since it was Holden, and this was my brother’s condo, I didn’t feel anything but justified in my actions.
I glanced over my shoulder, armed with a snappy comeback to fire at him, but when I turned my head, I found him standing directly behind me. My breath caught in my throat and I froze.
Holden always had a magnetic energy about him. From the time I was a little girl, if he was around, I was next to him. People joked that I was my brother’s shadow, but the truth was, I was Holden’s.
It had been so long since I’d experienced having all of his attention directed solely at me that I’d actually forgotten what it felt like. Now that I was in the same space with him, and we were alone, I found myself a lot more nervous than I’d anticipated. I’d spent the last five hours thinking of all the things I was going to say to him, but as I stared up in his eyes, I couldn’t remember a single one of them.
His jaw clenched, and he inhaled through his nose.
“Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Not right now.” The way he was looking at me made me feel like there was some significance to his answer, but before I could figure out what it was, he moved to the side and opened the fridge. “Beer or pop?”
“Beer,” I answered as I continued grabbing what we’d need for dinner.
Within a minute or two we were sitting down to eat with plates full of chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans.
“Did you cook all of this?”
“Yep.”
“Damn,” he said, looking impressed as he surveyed his plate. His eyes lifted to mine. “This looks good.”
“It tastes even better,” I said confidently.
“I’m sure it does.” His voice dropped several octaves causing the aforementioned thrill to become a full-blown tremor as it travelled down my back. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I had to remind myself to breathe.
I wasn’t sure we were talking about the food anymore. Images of him tasting me started populating in my head like computer virus pop-up windows. Since the eyes were the windows to the soul, and right now mine was X-rated, I closed them, tilted my head back and downed half my beer in several swigs.
When I set the bottle back down on the table, I could feel him looking at me.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
A tiny grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’re old enough to drink. It’s weird.” He shook his head and took a drink of his own beer.
“I’m old enough to do a lot of things.” I hadn’t meant it to sound as sexual as it had, but I wasn’t mad at my delivery.
He choked a little bit and set down his bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Without looking at me, he lifted a piece of fried chicken to his mouth. When he took his first bite, a low moan rumbled in his chest as his eyes rolled back and his lids closed.
My lady parts had fluttered when I’d smelled him at the door but hearing him make that noise and watching what I could only assume was his O-face, had caused me to do involuntary Kegel exercises in anticipation.
I was getting ahead of myself.
This isn’t a date, I reminded myself. Holden was only living next door to report back to Bentley about my comings and goings. Not that I’d be coming with anyone other than myself. Maybe that’s why just hearing Holden make that sound and seeing his face look like he was experiencing ecstasy was enough to send my body close to the edge.
When he opened his eyes and they locked on me, I felt like he could read all the dirty thoughts in my head and I blurted out, “So, what are your plans while you’re in town? I mean besides spying on me for Bentley.”
Of all the things I’d wanted to say to him, that hadn’t been at the top of my list. I’d wanted to ask him why he’d gone from being my best friend to completely ignoring me. I’d wanted to ask him how he was doing, really doing. I wanted to ask him how long he’d be staying in town. If his girlfriend was going to be joining him.
I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle knowing that on the other side of my bedroom wall he was having sex with his Brazilian model girlfriend.
But I hadn’t asked any of that.
He didn’t rush to finish chewing his bite. If anything, it seemed that he was taking more time to enjoy the dish. “Who says I’m going to spy on you?”
“Are you really going to sit there and deny that that’s what my brother asked you to do?”
Holden didn’t break eye contact as he took another bite of chicken.
I wasn’t sure what game he was playing, but I decided to mirror his actions and bit into the crisp batter, my teeth sank into the juicy meat of the drumstick. There was a reason why my mama’s fried chicken was famous. It was mouthwateringly delicious. Just like I was sure Holden’s lips would be.
After he took his time chewing and swallowing, he said, “He’s worried about you.”
“I don’t need anyone to worry about me. I’m a big girl now. I’m all grown up.”
Either I was seeing things, or a flash of heated desire flared in his Paul Newman stare. My body lit up with awareness as he held my gaze. Tingles ran from my head to my feet.
“I know.” His deep voice fanned the flames of arousal burning through me.
I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
His eyes dropped to his plate as he stabbed his fork in potatoes and brought a heaping portion to
his mouth. I watched as the food disappeared and his lips slid along the silver surface.
I’d never wanted to be a utensil more in my life.
Chapter 11
Holden
“Ya don’t have to see the whole staircase to take the first step.”
~ Maggie Calhoun
As I walked to my truck, I was careful not to glance toward Olivia’s door. It had been a week since our dinner and so far, I’d been able to avoid seeing her again. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. I’d seen her.
Every morning I’d told myself that I wasn’t going to look out my window, but every morning I’d found myself glancing out to see if she was there. And she had been. Naked. Doing yoga. Every single day.
I never stared. Never did more than just quickly glance, but it was enough to get me hard each and every time. I knew it was wrong. I shouldn’t be peeping like a fucking creep. But I couldn’t help myself. And not only that, something in the back of my mind, told me that she was doing it knowing that I could see her.
I knew that sounded ridiculous. Olivia didn’t play games. She was the most upfront, put her cards on the table person I knew. If she wanted me to see her naked, she’d show up on my doorstep in her birthday suit. Just like she’d shown up with her mom’s chicken and called me out on moving in here to spy on her.
But that only proved my suspicion. She knew that I was keeping an eye on her, so why would she do that if she knew I could see her unless she wanted me to see her?
The entire sordid situation was messing with my mind in a big way. As was living this close to her and not speaking to her. Keeping her at arm’s length emotionally had been a hell of a lot easier when she’d been at arm’s length physically. It had never been an out of sight out of mind situation with her. I always thought about her. Every day. But when she was hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles away, it had been easier to resist the magnetic pull that she had on me.
Educating Holden (Wishing Well, Texas Book 11) Page 7