Loving Liberty

by Belinda Boring

  “That’s all I could ever ask for. Like I said . . . your terms.”

  I dropped his hand long enough to turn so I could throw my arms around his neck and hug him. He returned the embrace, rubbing up and down my back as I whispered thank you again.

  “So, we have a little time left before I need to take you to meet your sister. Any last minute requests?” Oliver asked, letting me go.

  I was about to say no when the Ferris Wheel caught my eye.

  How many times had I begged to try it only to have my parents balk at paying for such foolishness?

  He noticed my stare and grinned. “Perfect! Let’s go, then.” He quickly stood and offered to help me up.

  “I don’t know . . .” I answered, dusting myself off as I glanced back over at the ride. “Is it safe?”

  “Only one way to find out, isn’t there? Don’t worry. It’ll be fun!” Grabbing my hand and laughing, he led us over to the ticket booth and before I knew it, we were sitting inside the carriage.

  The fact it didn’t sway or jerk like I thought it would was the only thing easing my nerves.

  Chapter Eight

  There were two benches inside, allowing up to six people to ride together at a time. With Oliver taking one, I hesitated for a moment about whether to sit beside him, or take the opposite side. He was waiting to see which I’d choose, too. It didn’t help that I remembered seeing in movies that this was a ride where lovers liked snuggling at the top. The second that thought entered my mind, I took the opposite seat, my decision made. I cursed myself for not being brave enough to do what I really wanted—to enjoy as much closeness with him as possible.

  “You sure you want to be all the way over there?”

  “Positive.” I grinned. “What’s the worst that can happen, right?” I spoke too soon as the ride jerked to a start, surprising me. I let out a startled scream, flailing my hands out to steady myself, and looked like a complete idiot in the process.

  Oliver simply sat there and chuckled, that sexy eyebrow of his cocked. “Need a second to rethink that? I’ll protect you, Liberty. You’ll be perfectly safe with me.” He then patted the space beside him and threw in a wink to seal the deal.

  My body demanded I accept his offer and move. My heart begged for me to let go of my inhibitions and move. My brain screamed that I must remain where I was sitting, that flirting was safer from a distance.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’m confident Fred will do the job nicely.” Smiling sweetly, I slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out my new friend. When we’d finished at the arcade and taken the few tickets we had to the prize counter, I’d instantly fallen in love with the little finger puppet monster. Oliver had tried convincing me to pick something bigger, but my mind was made up. I knew that it would be easier to hide something small from my family’s snooping eyes.

  “Fred, huh?” Oliver looked at my prize with a smirk.

  “Hey, don’t underestimate the power of a good growl, Mister.” To prove my point, I wiggled my finger and let out a loud menacing roar. “That’s right, be afraid. Be very afraid!”

  Oliver raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, but I don’t think you’ll have as much fun holding his hand as you would mine. Just saying.”

  I ignored his last comment, choosing instead to look out the windows at the view. I didn’t trust myself to answer him without making a fool of myself. It was easier to banter with him when he wasn’t saying things that made my stomach flip flop.

  Our carriage was now at the top of the ride. I tentatively glanced down, expecting the heights to scare me. “Oh, this isn’t so bad!” I exclaimed, shaking my head at what a chicken I had been. It made me wonder how many other times I’d talked myself out of something new and fun, just because I’d overthought it.

  We talked back and forth as we continued around in circles. Oliver pointed out a few places that I might not recognize from a bird’s eye view: Pikes Market and the Aquarium.

  The ride finally came to a slow stop at the platform and I let out a sigh. The whole afternoon had been enjoyable, and stepping out of the carriage signaled the approaching end of our day. The only thing left to do was ride back to the University. Dread filled me, mingling with the returning pressure I associated with going home.

  The door slid open and I scrambled to stand. To my horror, my feet somehow tangled and I went flying—straight onto Oliver’s lap. His arms instantly grabbed hold of my hips, keeping me from toppling to the floor.

  “I knew you were falling for me.” His voice was low in my ear.

  “Wow, you’re just full of cheesy one-liners today. Be still my heart!” I nervously replied, unsure why he was still holding on and not letting me up. Once I was steady, I expected him to release his grip, but instead he gave me little room to do anything. I was now looking directly into his eyes, our faces close. “Ohhh.” The word came out like a long sigh.

  Neither of us moved, the sound of our breathing, blending. I could feel the heat from Oliver’s fingers through my clothes and the soft pressure as he held me. I moistened my lips, my gaze darted over his mouth before looking up into the eyes I knew I’d get lost in. At that moment, it was just me and him. The rest of the world ceased to exist.

  “Liberty . . .”

  The mere mention of my name heightened the intensity between us. He didn’t finish his sentence, instead choosing to trace his finger down the side of my cheek. His hand trailed lower, over my shoulder, and down my back before returning to my hip. The action sent a pulsing shiver through me and I blushed. I couldn’t help it.

  “I don’t know what I like more. Your smile, laugh, or how beautiful you look when you blush.” He caressed the side of my face again like he was unable to stop himself. “I catch myself saying things just to see if I can make your skin flush this pretty pink.” He brushed his fingers through the side of my hair, the gesture so tender that it sent another ripple of trembles through me.

  “You shouldn’t say things like that, Oliver,” I murmured.

  “Probably not, but I can’t help it. Maybe I am dangerous.” He moistened his lips and moved a fraction closer.

  “Definitely.” The word was a faint whisper and I leaned in.

  Oliver was going to kiss me. There was no doubt about it. I ignored the warning voice in my head that told me this was going too fast. I gave in to the moment, thinking of nothing but how incredible being kissed by the one person who had managed to turn my insides into a riot of emotions was going to feel.

  “Tell me to stop.” His breath fanned across my lips.

  I didn’t get a chance to respond as someone clearing his throat broke the spell. A senior couple was standing at the door—the older gentleman obviously waiting to come in while his wife looked on.

  “I believe the ride is over, son,” he said gruffly, stepping over to let us out.

  Mortified at being caught in such a compromising position, I scooted off Oliver’s lap the second he released me. My face burned as though enflamed and I couldn’t stutter my apologies fast enough. Not looking at Oliver, I wanted to die when I heard the woman reprimand her husband.

  “Now, Harold. Was that really necessary? He was about to kiss her.”

  “Darn right it was. I can’t kiss my own girl at the top if we’re standing around waiting. Now come on, Phyllis.” The doors then closed, sealing the couple inside.

  “Wow.”

  “You okay?” Oliver asked, concerned. I had to wonder what I looked like for him to ask that. If it was anything like how I was feeling, I must be a mess. I was still a little shocked at how quickly things had escalated and then fallen apart.

  “Yeah. I think. What just happened?” I glanced back over to the Ferris Wheel, confused.

  “Maybe we should talk about it.” He dragged his fingers through his hair and for the first time, he looked uncertain of himself. Obviously, he hadn’t expected it either. “Look, Liberty,” he started again, but this time I interrupted him with a loud cry.

  �
��Oh no! Look at the time. I’m going to be late. I need to go . . . now!” I’d been so distracted by the ride, and the almost kiss, that I failed to keep an eye on my watch. Fear instantly replaced my confusion. If I didn’t get back and meet my sister, there’d be hell to pay. And was no way I was going to give Erica more ammunition to blackmail me.

  “Don’t panic, sweetheart. I’ll get you there,” Oliver promised.

  We raced back to his bike, neither of us speaking as he straddled it and I hopped up behind him. Slamming his foot down, the engine roared to life and we took off.

  All talk about our near kiss, forgotten.

  The second Oliver brought his motorcycle to a stop, I jumped off, trying to unfasten the helmet strap, my fingers trembling. As soon as I felt the clasp give, I shoved the helmet at Oliver with the promise I’d call him as soon as I could.

  There was no time for proper goodbyes and rounding the corner, Erica’s silver Lexus was already parked in her usual spot. I could only hope that she hadn’t been waiting long. She was one of the most impatient people I knew; and the more aggravated she became, the ruder she was. The last thing I wanted was to be the brunt of her frustration, again.

  “For goodness sake, Liberty. Try and control yourself,” Erica snarked, as I slammed the car door, reaching for the seatbelt.

  “Sorry. Guess I wasn’t paying attention,” I mumbled, finally able to take a deep breath. I’d made it. My secret friendship was safe for the moment. There was no way my sister could know I’d spent the afternoon with Oliver. As far as she was concerned, she held his phone number hostage, leaving me no way to contact him.

  All she did was snort in disgust before pulling out into traffic. Neither of us spoke, which was fine with me. I settled in for the ride home, staring out the window at the passing scenery.

  Thankfully Erica was content in the silence, too. Slowing the vehicle for the approaching red light, she tapped her well-manicured fingernails on the steering wheel, clearly impatient. “Stupid lights,” she muttered under her breath. I didn’t respond. I knew better.

  Instead, I watched as a familiar motorcycle pulled up beside us. Oliver leaned forward, resting his elbows on the handlebars while he also waited for the light to change. I wanted to tap on my window and get his attention, to yell out his name. A sidelong glance at my sister told me she was busy staring out the opposite direction and I discretely shifted in my seat so I could face him.

  I stared, willing him to turn my way. It felt so forbidden, so outrageous. As though he could hear my thoughts, Oliver turned and I saw him do a double take before raising his visor.

  Sure enough, it was him and I could see the smile in his eyes. The traffic behind us was lining up, signaling it would soon be time to move and the crazy thought of jumping out of the car and hopping up behind him played like a movie in my mind. I could see it as well as feel it—the absolute freedom of wrapping my arms around his waist as he took off and the look of horror on Erica’s face.

  My hands curled into fists, itching to release the seatbelt and open the door. A honking car intruded on my daydream, giving me only a second to see Oliver wink at me before revving the bike’s engine. Slipping the visor back into place, he looked forward, and then took off.

  “Of all the macho, idiotic things. Why anyone thinks men riding motorcycles is sexy is beyond me. They’re just thugs with an inferiority complex. Overcompensating,” Erica stated, looking into her rearview mirror before driving forward.

  “I think they’re sexy,” I thought, not meaning to actually speak it out loud. I realized my mistake when she zeroed in on my comment.

  “Just goes to show how naïve you are, Liberty. You know nothing about the world and men.” I wanted to throttle the superiority from her tone.

  “And I suppose you do? You’re hardly an expert yourself, you know.”

  “I know more than you think. Plus, my experience is far more extensive than seven minutes in the closet with the hired help. I’ve seen who you consider sexy and I’m not impressed.”

  A sudden possessiveness rose within me. I wanted to scratch her eyes out for talking like that about Oliver. She knew nothing about him—his goodness and sense of humor. He was leaps and bounds over any of the pretentious fools that seemed to fawn around my parents with the hope of gaining access to Erica and me. They all paled in comparison.

  “Must we always do this?” I asked, letting out an exhausted groan. “Aren’t you tired of always fighting? I can’t remember the last time we had a civil conversation together. We’re sisters, not rivals for goodness sake.”

  “Stop being so dramatic. There is no “this” and we don’t always fight.” Erica rolled her eyes at me before looking forward again.

  “We used to be close. Do you remember that? We used to be best friends.” For a moment I thought I saw a flash of recognition cross her features but it was fleeting. She kept her focus on the road, her hands firmly gripping the wheel.

  “I grew up. Pure and simple. I suggest you do the same.” She pursed her lips, refusing to say another word, launching us back into uncomfortable silence.

  It’s never that simple, I thought. Somewhere over the years, something had changed. Something significant and it drove the hostility and sarcasm that now defined our relationship.

  My phone buzzed and my heart began racing, Oliver’s face front and center in my mind. Pulling the device out of my pocket, I tried not to show my disappointment when I saw the text message was from our mother. Not one to mince words, she informed us to come straight home and that both she and our father were waiting.

  “It’s Mom. We’re being summoned.” I sighed, replying that we’d be there shortly.

  “Did she say why?” Erica frowned.

  “Nope, just said to come straight home.” I pocketed my phone and settled back in the seat.

  “What did you do this time, Liberty?” Trust Erica to think it was my fault.

  “What did you do?” I fired back. “It’s not always about me. They do have two daughters.”

  “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we?” She retorted, speeding up.

  I ignored her for the rest of the ride home, my mind a messy mixture of Oliver and worry over what awaited for us when we got home. It was never a good thing to be summoned. It always meant someone was in trouble.

  This time, something told me it was me.

  Chapter Nine

  It wasn’t trouble in the traditional sense, but as we sat around the formal dining table, I still felt like I was being punished.

  The focus was on me and I struggled not to squirm under the topic. Andrew had called and set the day for our first official date. My father sat stoically, not showing much emotion on the subject other than to remind me about not disappointing him. My mother, however, looked like the cat that’d just ate the canary. Erica sat sullenly picking at her glazed chicken, throwing the occasional daggered glare my way.

  It all spelled disaster for me.

  “Andrew is such a charming young man with a very promising career in front of him. I must have spoken to him for at least fifteen minutes this afternoon,” my mother gushed. I pushed the piece of roasted asparagus around my plate, trying to tune out the conversation; but that was nearly impossible. If there was one thing my mother didn’t tolerate, it was being ignored. “Liberty? Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled. “You like Andrew.”

  “I would think you’d be more enthusiastic, considering he could have the pick of any young lady he wanted. He does you a great honor in singling you out.” Her voice took on a shrill tone toward the end of her statement. I felt a sharp kick to my shin and looking up, saw Erica staring at me again before returning her attention to her food. I hadn’t forgotten her annoyance at being passed over.

  “Well, he isn’t really my type,” I added. “Why doesn’t Erica go out with him? They’re the same age and have much more in common.” My comment earned me another swift hit to the leg and a condescending chuckle f
rom my mother.

  “That’s not for you to decide. He called to confirm and will be here Wednesday night to pick you up.” That was two nights away and I stifled back a groan.

  “I don’t understand why he couldn’t just call me. I’m the one going on a date with him. There wasn’t any reason for him to involve you.”

  This response earned a louder laugh from my mother. “He called because he’s a gentleman. Seriously, Liberty, why are you being so difficult about this? Andrew knew you’d be in school and didn’t want to interrupt you. I was also able to answer the questions he had; so, it was a win-win situation. I can’t say I like your attitude about this. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, lately.” She glanced over at my father and he shook his head.

  “I know,” Erica added, before taking a small bite of mashed potato. “She hasn’t been herself since that fundraiser we attended.” Panic surged through me. This conversation was difficult enough without her bringing up my situation with Oliver. My vindictive sister had enough blackmail with the phone number to make my life difficult. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what would happen if they all knew about my recent afternoon rendezvous with him.

  “What was that?” Of course my mother heard.

  “So, tell me, what kind of questions did Andrew have?” I interrupted, not giving Erica a chance to mess with me. My anger was stirring, annoyed that she’d try to bait me this way.

  The distraction worked. My mother launched into a fifteen minute diatribe about how perfect he was, his excellent breeding, and how she couldn’t wait to contact his mother to discuss our budding relationship. It was just as I feared—if I don’t nip this fiasco in the bud, they’ll have us both married within the month.

  Throughout the conversation, I did little talking. I knew it wouldn’t serve me any good once Mother got on a tangent and had her mind set. I was positive she’d already picked out our china pattern, which neighborhood we’d live in, and the name of our first child. It felt like a noose growing tighter and tighter around my neck—suffocating me with every dreaded syllable.