When we returned home, Annie burst from the elevator, dropping her school bag in the foyer. A couple of books spilled out, and I grinned and bent down to pick them up.
“Mommy!” Annie’s excited exclamation rent the air.
Dread curled in my gut. Great. Sara was here.
Hang on…
How the hell did she get in?
I followed Annie into the main living area to find Sara in the kitchen hugging her daughter. She spotted me and offered up one of her false smiles.
“Hi, Harlow. Thank you for picking Annie up from school.”
“It’s my job,” I responded, setting Annie’s bag on a nearby chair. “Sorry, how did you get in?”
She pressed three fingers to her lips. “Oops,” she said with an impish grin. “Busted.”
Annie giggled.
I scowled. “Annie, go get changed out of your school things, and then we’ll get started on your homework before Daddy gets home.”
Annie pouted and clung tighter to her mother. “Aww, Harlow.”
I arched a brow. “Now, please.”
She stood her ground, hands planted on her hips. “I want to stay with Mommy.”
Sara tried to hide the look of triumph. She failed.
“Go on, Annie.” Sara gave her a nudge. “Do as your nanny tells you.”
I ground my teeth at her not-so-subtle putdown. Annie, none the wiser, immediately obeyed, scampering upstairs.
I waited until she was out of sight, then returned my attention to Sara.
“I’d like to know how you got in here.”
Her mask slipped, and she let out an exasperated sigh. “For goodness’ sake. It’s not an issue. What do you think I’m going to do? Steal from my own family?”
I folded my arms across my chest, irked that this woman had the gall to call Oliver and Annie her family. “You can’t just come and go as you please. This isn’t your home.”
“It isn’t your home, either,” Sara stated. “And out of the two of us, I’d say I have more right to be here than you.”
A prickling sensation crept up my neck, and my muscles quivered as I tried to hold on to my temper. “Oh yeah? I beg to differ. I’d say you relinquished your rights six years ago when you walked out on Oliver and Annie.”
My barb hit its target. A flush of red crept over her jaw, bleeding into her cheeks. “Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”
I raised my eyebrows. “A mistake is forgetting to turn off the oven or leaving the butter out in the sun. I hardly think abandoning your baby daughter and husband counts as a mistake.”
I was way overstepping the mark, but something about Sara got to me. Maybe it was the smug expression that she saved only for me, or how she honestly thought she could wipe the slate clean, pretend the last six years hadn’t happened, and walk right back into Oliver and Annie’s lives.
Or maybe it was the jealousy spreading through my gut driving me on.
“He isn’t yours,” Sara hissed, taking a step toward me.
I stepped back. Sara had a few inches on me, and I didn’t want to find out how good her right hook was. I’d had the element of surprise on my side when I’d slapped her in the lobby when she showed up out of the blue, and other people had been around.
“Really?” I pushed as much sarcasm as possible into my voice. “Funny you mention that since I’m the one sleeping with him.”
I hated this version of myself, the clichéd envious harpy going toe to toe with the ex-wife, but I refused to back down. If I did, Sara would take over, and I’d lose the man I’d fallen in love with.
“You don’t even know him,” Sara bit out. “Not like I do. I know what he needs.”
“I love him,” I said, conscious I probably should say those words to Oliver at some point, and certainly should have said them to him before I blurted them out to Sara. I didn’t know why I’d told her at all, especially when her smile built, and stayed there, fixed to her face as if the wind had changed and she’d frozen in place.
“Oh dear.” She shook her head. “So, you have made a mistake. A big one. He isn’t yours to love.”
“Well, he certainly isn’t yours.”
Sara’s haughty expression sent a shiver running through me. “Yes, he is. He’s always been mine. And he will be again. Now run along, you little tramp. I’m sure there is some menial household task that needs doing.”
My fingers twitched, but I wouldn’t allow her to draw me into hitting her. If I gave in to my baser instincts, she’d win. “Fuck you,” I bit out. “Fuck you right back to hell where you belong, you evil witch.”
“Harlow?”
Annie’s tentative voice had me wheeling around. She hovered at the foot of the stairs, her face white, her knuckles almost translucent where her clenched fists rested by her sides.
And right behind her, his expression unreadable, stood Oliver.
Shit.
Why was he home so early? And how much had he heard of our bitter exchange? God, please don’t let him have heard my declaration of love.
“Oliver—”
He ignored me, instead cutting his gaze to Sara.
“I’d like you to leave, please, Sara. Next time you want to drop by, arrange it with me beforehand.”
A rush of relief sent me lightheaded, until he continued.
“Harlow, if you wouldn’t mind giving Annie and I some space. I want to spend some alone time with my daughter.”
I felt his brush-off keenly, a painful tightness in my throat making it difficult to swallow.
“Sure,” I said glumly.
“Oliver,” Sara said. “I came by to talk to you.”
“Not tonight,” he said firmly.
“But—”
“I said not tonight, Sara. Now go.”
“Of course,” she said, gathering her things. She laid her coat over her arm and walked toward them. Bending to kiss Annie, she straightened and brushed a hand down Oliver’s suited arm.
She was lucky I didn’t rip it off.
“Call me,” she said, then left.
Oliver ignored her. Instead, he picked Annie up and swung her around, peals of laughter spilling from her lips. I trudged by, my tail thoroughly between my legs, and headed up to my room. I rarely came in here anymore, and as I closed the door behind me, it felt like the end of a fairy tale.
27
Oliver
I tucked Annie into bed, squished her latest favorite teddy bear next to her—one of the many gifts from Sara—then kissed her forehead.
“Sleep tight, munchkin.”
“Daddy,” she called out as I straightened.
“Yeah, baby girl.”
“Don’t be mad at Harlow.”
I crouched to her level again, plucking at a strand of hair that had caught on her eyelash. “I’m not mad at Harlow,” I said. Disappointed was much more like it. And confused. I didn’t know what had gone on between her and Sara, but the acrimony spilling over into Annie’s world was something I wouldn’t tolerate.
“Good,” Annie stated. “I love Harlow. Will you tell her for me? I love Mommy, too, but you can love lots of people. Isn’t that right, Daddy?”
My chest felt tight. “Yes, baby girl. Your heart always expands to fit more love inside.” I gave her another kiss. “Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I closed her door and padded down the hallway to Harlow’s room. Instinctively, I knew she wouldn’t be in my—our—bedroom. Her insecurity had grown in the last couple of weeks, and I understood why. Our relationship was still very new, and Sara showing up out of the blue had shaken the ground beneath her feet. Hell, it had shaken the ground beneath mine, too.
It was up to me to reassure her, to show her with my actions and my words that she played a pivotal role in my life.
I tapped on her door. “Harlow, let’s talk.”
A few seconds passed, then she opened the door. Her face showed signs of tear tracks, and a rim of red circled her almond eyes.
> “Can I come in?”
She jerked her shoulder and turned around. “It’s your home, Oliver,” she said dully.
I stepped inside. “It’s your home, too.”
She barked a laugh. “Not according to your wife.”
“Ex-wife.”
She spun to face me. “Have you told her that?”
I frowned, then sat on the bed, tugging her down beside me. I caressed her face, then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened tonight.”
Her resigned, almost defeated expression sent a dart of worry through me. “She wants you back, Oliver, and she won’t rest until she gets her way.”
“I don’t want her, Harlow. I want you.” I’d said the same thing several times, but no matter how I phrased it, Harlow didn’t seem to hear me—or maybe she didn’t believe me.
“She’s clever, Oliver. Much cleverer than me. And sneaky, too. She’ll gradually worm her way into your life. You won’t even see it coming.”
I sighed. “What would you have me do, Harlow? Annie is thrilled to have her mother back in her life. If Annie had rejected her, I’d have thrown her out on her ass. But I’m backed into a corner here.”
“Just be careful,” she warned. “She’s sweetness and light with you and Annie, but trust me, when it’s me and her, she punches straight and true, leaving me in no doubt about what she wants.”
I frowned. “What exactly did she say to make you respond the way you did?”
Harlow shook her head, lowering her gaze to the floor. “It doesn’t matter.”
I lifted her chin back up with my finger. “It does to me.”
She drew her teeth over her bottom lip and rubbed the space between her eyebrows. “She treats me like the hired help which, I guess, is exactly what I am.”
“You are not hired help,” I gritted out. Fucking Sara and her vicious tongue.
“Then what am I, Oliver?”
I cupped her face, tilting her head back. Her eyes swirled with hurt and a tinge of anger. The latter caused by Sara, the former, all me.
“You’re the woman I love,” I said, my declaration long overdue. I should have told her weeks ago, but I’d held back for fear she might think it too soon or, worse, that she wouldn’t say it back. But life was full of risks. Each day we put ourselves out there where danger lurked around every corner, both physical and emotional. I’d spent six years shielding my heart from hurt, and now it was time to open myself up.
She blinked rapidly, her brow furrowing. “What did you say?”
I smiled, bent my head, and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “I love you.”
She touched her fingertips to her mouth. “Oh God, Oliver. Do you mean it?”
I covered my heart with my palm. “Every word.”
Her eyes glistened, and for the first time since Sara burst into our lives, she looked at me, her face alight with hope. “I love you, too. You know that, right?”
“I do now,” I said, easing her back onto the mattress.
Slowly I began to undress her, taking my time with each piece of clothing, savoring the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingertips. I explored her with my mouth, my hands, every touch meant to convey my feelings for her. I didn’t want her to feel second best to Sara, and as soon as I got her alone, I’d tell her straight up that Harlow was the woman in my life and whatever fantasies she’d harbored before returning were just that. She was Annie’s mother, but to me, she meant nothing.
I discarded my clothes and caged Harlow with my body. She wrapped her legs around my waist and clamped her hands on my ass.
“I need you,” she murmured into my ear.
I pushed forward, slipping inside the heat of her body, her velvet walls sheathing my cock. We’d stopped using condoms a few days ago, a sign of our mutual trust in each other. Having no barriers between us heightened the sensations, and long before I’d had my fill of her, my balls tensed. I bent my head, sucking her nipple into my mouth and shifted the angle of my lower body, each thrust brushing against her clit.
She came quietly, the speed of her breathing and the way her muscles clenched around me the only sign of her climax. She touched her lips to my neck and held me close. My own climax followed, our quiet orgasms somehow a testament to the poignancy of tonight.
This wasn’t fucking. This was love.
I held her in my arms, her back to my front until the shift in her breathing to a steady rhythm meant she’d dozed off. Slipping out of bed, I pulled on my boxers, and, gathering my clothes, I crept out of the room. After changing into sweats and a T-shirt, I tiptoed downstairs and padded to my office.
I had a few missed calls, work related. They could wait until morning. Then I noticed a text from Sara.
I’m sorry about before. I do hope I didn’t cause any trouble.
I began typing a reply, then deleted it. I’d deal with her tomorrow, face-to-face, not via an instant message. Instead, I called Garen. I hadn’t heard from him in a while, and I wanted to see if he had news.
“Hey,” he said, answering immediately. “I was going to call you tomorrow.”
“Saved you the trouble. Have you uncovered anything yet?”
“Not yet,” he said, a hint of hesitation in his tone which made me think that comment wasn’t all together true. “There are a few leads, but I’d rather ride them to the end than jump to conclusions. How’s she been?”
“With Annie, model behavior. Annie’s thrilled to have her back, so who am I to get in the middle of that. With Harlow, however…”
“She’s a complete bitch,” Garen finished for me.
“You could say that, although Harlow’s no shrinking violet.” I apprised him of the scene I returned home to this evening.
Garen laughed. “Evil witch? I gotta meet this girl, and soon. It’s good she’s willing to stand up for herself. Can’t be easy.”
“No.”
“Listen, man, don’t let Sara come between you two. The way you talk about Harlow shows me you think she’s special. You’ve been to some very dark places these past few years, and the last thing I want is for Sara to destroy you all over again. If you find yourself weakening, remember the hell she put you through. And if you still need a reminder, call me.”
“I feel nothing for her beyond the fact that she’s Annie’s mother.”
“Keep it that way,” Garen said. “Give that woman the hint of an opening and she’ll slither back into your lives and fuck you up all over again.”
“Not a chance.”
“Buddy, I gotta go,” Garen said. “Eliza just arrived.”
Eliza was his latest girlfriend, if four dates could be counted as such. Garen always had a line of females vying for his attention, but he suffered from a short attention span and the lowest boredom threshold I’d ever seen. For him, the thrill was all in the chase. The problem he had was that very few women ran.
“I’ll call if anything changes.”
“Thanks. Enjoy your night.”
“Oh, I will, buddy. I will.”
I chuckled and ended the call. My stomach growled, and only then did I realize I hadn’t eaten dinner, too caught up in the drama of the evening. And then it occurred to me that Harlow wouldn’t have eaten either, unless she kept a stash of snacks in her room, which I doubted.
I headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge. I removed a couple pieces of chicken and rubbed in some spices, set them to cook on the stove, and rustled up a quick salad. As I thought about going to wake Harlow, she appeared at the foot of the stairs wearing my shirt, the tails skimming her soft, creamy thighs.
“That smells good,” she said, drawing my attention back to her from where my eyes had locked on to her legs.
“It’s only chicken and salad.”
“Works for me.” She slid onto a stool and rested her elbows on the counter and watched me cook. “Oliver?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t hurt me.”
I set down the cooking impl
ements and moved around the counter, taking her in my arms. “Never.”
28
Harlow
Whatever Oliver said to Sara must have worked because there were no more unexpected visits. In fact, I barely saw her unless she came to pick up Annie or when she dropped her off, and during those times, she made a conscious, albeit fake, effort to be nice to me.
I didn’t buy it for a second.
Oliver, though, was a different story. He made a point of regularly asking me if I’d had any further issues with Sara which, of course, I had to tell him that no, I hadn’t. How could I begin to explain the niggling doubts clawing at me, or describe the feminine intuition that Sara was playing a far smarter game?
I thought I’d feel more secure since we’d declared our love for one another, and at times I did. Then something innocuous would happen, and my inner voice would start a whole series of what-ifs, leaving me floundering and exhausted.
And so here I sat waiting for Katie to arrive for a long overdue catch-up over dinner and drinks on a cold Saturday night. Oliver had been the one to encourage me to go, reminding me with an impish grin that I didn’t work weekends, and that, as Annie was staying over at her best friend’s house, he’d arranged to go for a drink with Ryker and Elliot.
At first, I’d declined, citing tiredness, but then the more I thought about it, the keener I grew to see her. I needed someone with a little perspective to tell me if I was mad and simply looking for problems in my relationship where none existed.
I needed my best friend.
I’d always assumed when you found The One, you’d be happier than you thought possible, yet my days were filled waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Oliver to confess his love for Sara and confirm they were getting back together.
It would destroy me.
I spotted Katie shrugging out of her winter coat and a long scarf she’d wrapped around her neck multiple times. She hung them on a hook by the door and waved, then made her way over to our table. We hugged and then ordered a bottle of wine.
“You look awful, by the way,” was Katie’s opening gambit.
“Gee, thanks,” I drawled. “You’re full of compliments.”
Enraptured: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 2) Page 17