All About You (All Series Book 6)

by Natalie Ann

  The slim but fit body that was testing his resolve, and they hadn’t even had dinner yet.

  That sexy dress stopped mid-thigh on her, showcasing those long thin but muscular thighs and calves. She looked like someone who worked out, but he couldn’t picture that. Then his eyes rested on her feet—her pretty French manicure peeking out from the spiky, black strappy heels she was sporting.

  He held the door open for her at the restaurant, then placed his hand on her lower back and ushered her toward the hostess. “Abraham,” he said.

  “Follow me,” the young woman said, eying him longer than he felt comfortable with.

  Did she recognize him? He hoped not, even though he remembered her. She was younger than him, closer to Becca’s age and one of the little cronies in the group Becca hung with.

  The group that had caused trouble back then and made his life hell. Since he only met this woman once and couldn’t even remember her name, he was hoping she’d think he was just another customer.

  They were escorted to a private table in the back, out of the way just like he’d requested. Not having a lot of time for their date, he wanted to make the most of it.

  Holding the chair out for Olivia, he watched as she gracefully sat, and then he walked around to the opposite side. “You look like royalty today.”

  It wasn’t just the dress either. It was the jewelry. He knew it was handmade, her pieces he’d bet. They were too unique not to be.

  “So did I succeed in giving you something to look at?” she said, her eyes sparkling at him.

  “Oh, I look at you all the time.”

  “Do you now?”

  “You know I do.”

  He was studying her face. She was wearing more makeup than normal, but still not a lot. Just enough to make her eyes stand out against her porcelain skin. Her hair was down, straight and parted in the center, flowing like silk behind her. It felt like silk when his hand grazed it on her lower back too. “I can’t tell if you look older or younger with your hair down.”

  “Is that your polite way of asking how old I am?”

  It had crossed his mind a time or two. When he originally met her, he thought she was just a few years younger than him, still in her early thirties, but now he was having serious doubts. Not to mention he’d heard she was younger than Phil’s wife, who he guessed was younger than him. “If you want to share.”

  “I’d ask you to guess, but I don’t want to know your answer. If you say I’m older than I am, I’ll think I’m aging poorly. And if you say I’m younger, I’ll assume you think I’m immature.”

  “I don’t think you’re immature. I can assure you that.”

  “Well then, I’m twenty-seven.”

  Wow, much younger than he thought. He’d done his best to stay away from anyone in their twenties, yet she didn’t act it to him. Too late now, he couldn’t let it cloud his judgment…wouldn’t let it. He had to remind himself she wasn’t Becca or any of Becca’s friends. She didn’t have a hidden agenda—at least he hoped she didn’t.

  “Twenty-seven is a good age.” He wasn’t sure what else he could have said.

  “You seem surprised. I guess it’s only fair I ask how old you are.”

  “Thirty-six.”

  “Older than I thought.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “I wouldn’t be here with you if I thought it was. Age is just a number, isn’t it?”

  She was right, it was. “You’re putting a lot of responsibility on yourself opening a store.”

  “For my age, you mean?”

  “That didn’t come out right.”

  “It’s okay. You aren’t the first person to say that. I’ve been on my own, you could say, for a long time. I won’t lie and say I haven’t done my fair share of partying and acting like other women my age, but deep down, I’ve always known where I wanted to be and decided it was time to do it. Again, age is just a number. I was ready now.”

  He stored that information away for another time, wondering what “other things” she was referring to. Instead he asked, “I know you said you haven’t seen your father in years. What about your mother?”

  “Is this where we learn more about each other?”

  “I guess it is.”

  “I’ll give you the condensed version; no need to bore you. I went to boarding school in Switzerland, so as you can imagine I didn’t see my family much. I talked to my mother quite a bit and she visited, but it’s not the same as living with her. I know I spoke ill of my mother jet setting around the world, and that was wrong of me. That was how she used to be, but she’s been married for quite a while now. She splits her time between California and Naples. Her husband owns wine vineyards.”

  So not only did her father have money, but it seemed her mother did also. Completely out of his league, and he was wondering how he ended up sitting across the table from her right now.

  “And after boarding school?”

  “I went to college and studied gemology.” She stopped and smirked. “You don’t have to look so surprised. You know I’m a jewelry designer.”

  “I guess I didn’t realize that was something you went to college for. Not a four-year degree type.”

  “It is. And I interned. My stepfather, Anthony, has a lot of contacts and was able to pull some strings for me. I’ve never had a real father, but he helped pave the way for me in my adult life. I’m very grateful for that.”

  “So you haven’t lived in the US recently?”

  He’d looked her up online and was shocked to see how well known of a designer she was overseas, but he didn’t see anything about where she’d lived, nothing of a personal nature in her life.

  “Not until the last month when I moved to Saratoga. I’ve lived in a lot of places and stayed in more cities than I can count, but never permanently. You could say I resided out of hotels quite a bit, traveling around.”

  “That’s why you’re so cultured.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “It is?” He didn’t know why she would think that was a sweet thing to say; it was just the truth.

  “It’s another word for mature in my eyes. I’ve been called a lot of things in the past, and mature and cultured weren’t two of them.”

  All going back to his original thoughts of her when he realized who she was and the wealth she came from.

  He had to stop making judgments on her past and start making them on the person she was at this point in time. The woman in front of him that said she was ready for her life now.

  “Those are two words I could say. Believe me when I say I haven’t been around too many twenty-somethings I could describe that way. So, your bracelet and ring, pieces you made?”

  She held her arm up and examined the bracelet. It was made of thick pieces of silver-colored metal—none had a defined shape but each was unique—probably white gold, maybe platinum, and each piece was held together with chain. It was big and bold, and set inside of each thick piece was a multi-colored stone.

  “It is. Do you like it?”

  “I do. What kind of stone is that?”

  “Abalone shell. The metal is sterling silver. The stones, or shells, aren’t very expensive, so not really worth setting in gold. This is one of my favorite pieces. It goes with just about anything and it has an expensive look to it without being so.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Really?” she asked, tilting her head.

  “You have real talent.” He didn’t know if he’d ever said that to another woman before, but he meant every bit of it.

  “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

  “What about the ring?” He eyed her hand, long lean fingers with her nails painted a pretty pale pink. The ring definitely had value.

  “Tahitian pearl, set in platinum, real diamonds. Another one of my favorite pieces. It’s a fragile stone and shouldn’t be worn in extreme cold. I figured I’d wear it while I could here.”

  She wore that jewelry and those cloth
es the same way she wore jeans and a T-shirt at the playground the other day. Regally, and with class.

  ***

  “Thank you for dinner,” she said when he dropped her back at the store.

  They were standing in the parking lot behind her building now. It was still light out, just a little after eight. Definitely an early date for her, but she understood why.

  “It was my pleasure.” He handed the keys back to her. “Thanks for letting me drive your car.”

  She looked at the grin on his face. “It’s just a car.”

  “You’ve said that before.”

  “And I’ll say it again.” He rested his hands on her hips now and she felt the burn of it through her dress. The heat of him and his body almost too much to handle. “Are you going to kiss me again?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

  He leaned down, his lips just grazing hers, moving around, his tongue coming out to trace and urge her to open. She complied; there was no fight in her. She’d been waiting for this all night.

  She leaned up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, falling into the kiss more. Then even more so when his hands moved up her ribs to the side of her breasts. He was too much of a gentleman to cover her breasts in the parking lot and she was a little disappointed in that.

  He sighed though, deep in his throat and she knew he felt what she was feeling. The desire strong enough to wish they had somewhere they could go, somewhere private, and wishing the night wasn’t over.

  She took a step back, but not far enough that they released their hands from each other. “I guess it’s time for our night to end.”

  “I need to get Trey.”

  “I understand. Maybe we can do this again sometime.”

  “Definitely. I’ll let you know when I can work it out.”

  “Then I’ll see you on Monday,” she said, reaching up and kissing him again. If she had to go home alone, then she wanted to have one more taste of him to hold her over.

  Twenty minutes later, sitting on the couch in the guest suite of Sophia’s house, she stared at her phone. She wanted to call someone and tell them about her date. Tell them how much fun she had tonight. How it wasn’t all about staying out late and partying, drinking until you couldn’t remember what you did.

  No, sometimes one glass of wine with dinner was enough. Enough to relax you and keep your wits about you, but let you appreciate the night just the same. To let you enjoy sitting across from a handsome man that you would have never looked at in a different time in your life, and you never would have suspected how happy you could be that you took the risk by being with him tonight.

  But there was no one to call.

  All her so-called friends were overseas. They’d probably still be up and partying, but they wouldn’t understand, and she didn’t want anything to remind her of the life she walked away from. The life she couldn’t run from fast enough.

  She could go up and talk to Sophia, but she wouldn’t. Ian would be in bed, probably Addison too. It was Sophia and Phil’s time to relax as a couple. She wouldn’t intrude on them.

  She picked her phone up before she lost her nerve and quickly typed. I had fun tonight.

  She didn’t think Finn would respond. He was probably getting Trey ready for bed, but she wanted to tell someone she enjoyed her night and thought she might as well tell the person she shared the night with.

  Almost instantaneously, her phone vibrated. Me too.

  She wouldn’t bug him, so she typed back quick. Sweet dreams.

  It was a frivolous thing to say, but she was feeling that. Feeling giddy too.

  You too.

  She would have those sweet dreams now.

  Baby

  “How was your date last night?”

  Olivia tried to hide the sigh when Sophia asked that question. She should have figured nothing would get past her sister.

  “How do you know I went on a date last night?”

  “You really need to ask that? Let’s see, you have a fresh manicure.” Sophia paused in her explanation and looked down at Olivia’s bare toes. “And a pedicure.”

  “Maybe I wanted to pamper myself.”

  “Could be. But I noticed your sex-on-a-stick heels by the door this morning and put it all together.”

  “You went downstairs this morning when I was sleeping?” It shouldn’t bother Olivia, it was Sophia’s house, but still, she didn’t expect her sister to do that.

  “No,” Sophia said, her lips twitching. “Phil and I went out to feed the ducks off the dock while the kids were still sleeping. We walked by the glass doors on our way back to the deck and I noticed them off to the side.”

  “Oh.” She shouldn’t have doubted Sophia. “Feeding the ducks, huh. That glamorous lifestyle of yours.” Phil snorted on the couch, and Olivia felt bad saying what she did. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

  “No worries,” Phil said. “I always wondered what she was doing with me, too.”

  “I’m only with you for your body,” Sophia said, drawing a laugh out of Phil and a blush from Olivia.

  “I won’t touch that comment.”

  And she didn’t want to. Yes, she’d always wondered what Sophia saw in Phil. Not that he wasn’t handsome, because he was, but he was the complete opposite of Sophia. Not to mention living in this remote area of the lake. It was as far removed from Manhattan, where Sophia last lived, as Olivia felt standing in this room. Yet she could see how happy Sophia was with her life right now.

  “Chicken,” Sophia said.

  “Leave her alone,” Phil said, his tone anything but stern, more like laughter.

  There Phil sat on the couch, feeding Addison, looking down at his daughter, the light and love in his eyes shining so vividly across the room. That was what Sophia saw daily, and that was what Olivia wanted. Desperately. The fairytale ending that Sophia seemed to have.

  She wondered if Finn was like that when Trey was a baby. She knew he’d raised Trey alone almost since he’d been born, and she could see Finn holding his son like that, putting him first.

  Or was Finn bitter? Did he resent being left alone to raise a child on his own? He’d never shown any signs of that that Olivia had seen.

  Matter of fact, he only ever talked about Trey in a proud manner. Not that they talked about Trey much. Olivia got the feeling that was still off the table, so she shied away from it. If Finn wanted to talk about Trey, she’d be more than happy to, but she’d come to realize it would be on his terms.

  “So, are you going to tell me where you went last night?”

  “On a date,” Olivia said, playing coy.

  “Couldn’t have been much of one, you were home pretty early.”

  Olivia walked over and sat in the chair facing Sophia and Phil on the couch. “Spying on me?”

  “Hardly. But as you so gladly pointed out, my glamorous life is pretty quiet, not to mention hearing you come home last night. It’s a little hard not to notice the roar of your engine. What could your father have been thinking when he sent you that car?”

  Olivia shrugged. “Who knows what goes on in his mind? Anyway, it was an early night. My date had someone to get home to.”

  “He’s not married, is he?” Sophia asked, sitting up straighter.

  “Of course not. Married men are off limits. Any man in a relationship is off limits.” Olivia tried not to be offended, but she was. What did Sophia take her for? She wasn’t a homewrecker. “I’m not Mom.”

  “I’m sorry. I know you aren’t. I shouldn’t have asked that, or even assumed. And even Mom drew the line there. You know that.”

  “Did she?”

  “She did. I know you didn’t see as much of it as I did, but I don’t ever remember her being the other woman. She’d been cheated on a few times and knew how it felt.”

  “How can I forget?” Olivia may have been young, but she’d heard enough over the years on how her father cheated on her mother with the nanny. Talk about cliché.

  �
��So, a child he had to get home to, then?” Sophia asked, still being nosy.

  “Maybe.”

  “Does this father have a name?”

  “Sophia, leave your sister alone,” Phil said gently, but there was a bit of sternness in his voice this time.

  Olivia looked over and smiled at Phil, silently thanking him. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop her sister. “She’s my baby sister. I’m entitled.”

  “She’s hardly a baby,” Phil pointed out.

  “She’ll always be my baby sister.”

  “Hello, I’m sitting right here.” She didn’t want to be the subject of their disagreement, though honestly they weren’t fighting. Nope, they were both doing their best not to burst out laughing, she could see. “If I tell you his name, will you stop?”

  “Maybe,” Sophia said. “Depends on his name.”

  Olivia debated on saying it. She wasn’t sure if she should, but since Finn had said he’d been willing to pick her up at home, she assumed it was okay to say it. “Finn Abraham.”

  “Finn as in the sexy fireman that works for Harper’s? The same one that Kaitlin said was yummy at the park, and you scolded her for being a married woman and saying that?”

  “Hey,” Phil said. “You’re a married woman, too. What’s this with describing someone as sexy that isn’t your husband?”

  Here they go again, Olivia thought. She’d always thought Phil was quiet, but he really wasn’t. At least not around family. He just didn’t always have a ton to say, but when he did you listened, or you laughed. Now she was laughing.

  “That’s right, you give her hell, Phil.”

  “And you,” Phil said, getting a look in his eye she wasn’t sure she liked right now. She didn’t even know what the look was about, having never seen one like it before. “What do you know about Finn? He’s quite a bit older than you.”

  “Ha,” Sophia said. “Now who’s acting like a big brother?”

  “I’ve had years of practice with Kaitlin.”