Oliver (This is Our Life Book 3)

by F. G. Adams

  Tugging Fallyn ahead, I lead her to the enormous tree with its large willowy branches jutting out across the stream. I remove a checkered blanket from the basket, shake it out, and lay it beneath the tree. Right where the grass is spongy and supple. A great spot for an outdoor lunch.

  “Just when I thought there wasn’t anything more beautiful than the mountain view from your cabin, you show me this place,” Fallyn’s whispered reverence clogs my parched throat, and we sit down on the blanket facing the streaming water.

  Fallyn stares open-mouthed, her head on a swivel as she consumes the serenity of this place.

  A stunning view of nature beyond comparison. The sides of the mountain butts up to the opposite side bank, as if it was cut off like a piece of cake. Ivy, various plants, and trees sprout from the bedrock, hanging precariously over the edge, relying on the rock to hold them in place. The boulders and small rocks lining the water bed range from browns, greys, and reds to all different spectrums of the color wheel.

  Its beauty runs deep, just like my Fallyn.

  Unable to respond, I reach into the basket, removing two bottles of water. I pass one to Fallyn and open the other, swallowing down its entire contents until they vanish into my mouth. The lump in my throat still present causes my entire body to shutter.

  I heave my long legs up, gripping my knees, and place my head on top.

  Breathe in, breathe out. In and out.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “What’s going on, Oliver? Talk to me.”

  Fallyn’s pleading voice cracks the delicate walls surrounding my sanity.

  I’m a grown-ass man, for cryin’ out loud.

  Breathe in, breathe out. In and out.

  Delicate feminine arms wrap around my starving form, eliciting a sigh of relief, and my body relaxes at the contact of Fallyn’s perfect body pressed up against mine. Settling my chaotic emotions.

  Breathe in, breathe out. In and out.

  Get it together, Bishop.

  “Talk to me, Oliver. You can tell me anything.”

  “I know, baby. But there’s somethin’ I have to say. It’s just…shit, this is hard.”

  My voice tapers off as my gaze follows the bubbling water flowing in the creek. I’m struggling to find the right words.

  Fallyn’s shoulders droop, and from the corner of my vision, I notice red splotches scattered across her complexion. My sadness covering her lovely face as she starts to pull away. Defeated.

  My grip tightens on her arms draped on top of my knees. I immediately sit up straight, pulling Fallyn onto my empty lap. The overwhelming necessity to submerge myself into our bond, along with her body against mine, spurs my actions.

  “Don’t. Don’t leave me, Fallyn. Please.”

  My pleading instantly changes her posture, a clue of Fallyn’s acceptance for my need to share. Her acceptance of me.

  “Whatever it is, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I see you, too, Oliver Bishop,” Fallyn returns the words I spoke to her when we first made love. Her spirited oath keeps me on track.

  Glancing down, she rewards me with a beautiful smile. The face of an angel. Fallyn’s determination grants me the courage I need to complete this mission. Her courage is my freedom. My freedom is close.

  Like a stuck-on Band-Aid, sometimes you just have to rip it off quickly.

  Clearing my throat, I begin, “When I was six years old, I lived not too far from here. ‘Bout a mile in that direction.”

  Lifting my arm, I point my finger in the opposite direction of where my cabin sits.

  “I had a friend who lived next door. We’d play in the woods, catch squirrels and rabbits together, even built a fort out behind our house.”

  “I have fond memories of days like that, too. Back when Jo, Sage, and I built a treehouse on the ranch. We spent days on end playing house, and sometimes we’d pretend to be pirates on the wide-open sea. We’d also hide out there when my father went on one of his rages. It was a magical place for us.”

  Her face conveys strength, willpower, as Fallyn adds her own story to mine. It helps settle my thumping chest easing up a little.

  I pause to collect my thoughts, then continue, “Yeah? That’s beautiful, baby. Anyhow, we grew up together. Became inseparable. Taylor and I couldn’t stay away from each other.”

  “Taylor? That was his name?” Fallyn asks, and I reach into the basket for the wine.

  With Fallyn still sitting in my lap, I pour us both a cup of the Muscadine white, sipping the intoxicating flavor into my mouth. The tart, sugary sweetness on my taste buds masks the bitterness there. As the savory liquid flows down my throat into my gut, the pinching of my tense tendons in the back of my neck lessens, becomes tolerable.

  “Yes. But Taylor was a girl, Vixen. She is…was my first love.”

  Fallyn stiffens from the remark, her body rigid. Not what she expected.

  My mouth naturally falls to the top of her head. The yearning to soothe her overrides everything else. My lips linger in her hair.

  I mumble the next part through her thick locks.

  “Six years ago, last month, we were gonna be married.”

  “Oh, God, Ollie.”

  Heartsick, Fallyn cries out, and I hold her tightly against me.

  “She’s dead, Fallyn. There was a c…car accident.” My shaky voice cracks a little, and I wipe at the beads of sweat forming on my forehead with the back of my hand. “It was the night of her bachelorette party. Taylor was always the designated driver for her friends. She liked to drink and have fun, but she never went too far. It just wasn’t her thing.”

  I smile in remembrance of my girl. The beautiful person fading from my memories.

  “Go on,” Fallyn urges me to continue.

  “Even that night, her night, she’d had a few beers, nothing to intoxicate or inhibit her in any way. On the way home, it was pouring down rain. Hard to see. A logging truck came ‘round the bend. Well…you can figure the rest.”

  My choked-up words are strung together choppily in order to finish the story.

  “Ollie, I’m so sorry,” Fallyn responds, and her tear-filled eyes generate a stinging arrowed directly to my splintered heart. She wraps her dainty arms around my muscled chest, squeezing tightly, extracting part of the pain coursing through me.

  “She was the only one who didn’t walk away that night. It should’ve been me, Fallyn. She should’ve called me or somethin’,” I appeal, my voice sounding an octave louder than normal.

  Bowing my head, I inhale Fallyn’s vanilla scent, which grounds me to the here and now.

  “Shh, Oliver. I’ve gotcha.”

  Fallyn’s promise unplugs the damn, busting through my caged personal hell I’ve carried for so long.

  We hold each other under the willow tree, basking in each other. Mending our broken pieces together stitch by stitch.

  The wind is cold and billowing around us, caught in the ravine like a tornado. Fallyn shivers, and I pull out the other blanket, encasing us in a cocoon of warmth generated by our body heat. Still, neither one of us speaks.

  The burden of another time is released into the wilderness. This place will no longer dispatch haunting memories for me. Thanks to Fallyn.

  “Everything is hard before it gets easier, Ollie. Life and experiences have taught me that much. I can only imagine the pain you’ve felt.”

  “Thanks, Vixen.” I breathe her in while continuing to hold her securely. My lifeline.

  “Sometimes. the best thing you can do is try not to think, not to wonder, not to imagine over the circumstance. Because in the end, you can’t change what’s already happened, Ollie,” Fallyn says.

  I’m awestruck by the insight this brave and wonderful woman imparts. A sentiment for either one of us, her words of wisdom cause a stir in the depths of my soul. Is it possible giving up our demons here on the creek bank, we can both be healed?

  “I thought my life was over when she died, Fallyn. I came out to these woods to lose mys
elf. I didn’t want to live anymore.”

  “Oh.” Her reply is sad and desolate.

  “Yeah. I was in bad shape, baby. Then, a few years ago, I was given a picture. And it changed my life.”

  I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the well-worn photo, handing it to Fallyn.

  “Wow. This was so long ago; it’s like peering through a looking glass.” Fallyn shudders.

  “The thing is, Vixen, Taylor began to fade when I started my search for you and Harper.”

  “What are you saying?” Fallyn offers me a hopeful expression, etched with the possibilities of a happily ever after deep within her eyes.

  “It’s just, sometimes your heart needs more time to accept what your mind already knows. You helped heal my heart, Fallyn. Fate brought you to me.”

  Fallyn opens her mouth, attempting to speak, but nothing happens. I’ve stunned her silly again. Her gaze is full of hope and longing. A blush gently rises up the slender column of her neck onto her delicate cheeks, painting a picture of a woman who desires a man.

  “You are more incredible than you know, and you deserve more than you think, baby. Wanted to come clean with you. Tell you everything about me so we could move forward. I’m tired of livin’ in the past. I want you.” I reach down and cup her face, rubbing my thumb across her supple lips. “Consider this your notice. When all this shit with the Cabriccis is over, I’m keepin’ you. I need you to be mine.”

  People who’ve been through hell and walk out of the flames are miracle enough. But to carry buckets of water back in for those still consumed by the fire, that’s amazing. True bravery. Fallyn hauled those buckets of water to me. I was consumed by the fire until she put out the raging flames.

  How does she feel about my confessions? Not too sure.

  Did I think I’d have another chance at love? Nope. Not ever.

  All I really understand for certain right now is, I’m finally free.

  I loved Taylor at one time. In the past.

  Fallyn is here with me. In the present.

  I’ve fallen for my courageous little vixen, and I’m going to love her for the rest of my life.

  23

  Fallyn

  The brain is a powerful organ. It has the capacity to protect you from sorrow and grief when you no longer can endure it; guides you with knowledge and wisdom if needed; and at times, allows doubts and insecurities to fester. Especially when your heart is involved.

  The lack of confidence inside me cuts deep. Deeper than anything Roman has done.

  Taylor was Oliver’s first love. The person he planned to spend his whole life with until her fatal accident. They had plans for the future. This gorgeous place, where I have hidden the last few weeks, was their dream.

  I look around the wide-open space, miles and miles of nature as far as the eye can see. Crisp, fresh air fills my lungs. The house is positioned high above the tree line. I told Oliver he had built a treehouse choosing the site for his home.

  The tops of the tall oak trees sway in the brisk wind. The cool breeze tunnels through my hair, a reminder it’s only a few more hours until sunset. The clouds floating up above seem close enough to touch the fluffy puffs of air. There’s peace to be found here.

  I’ve been sitting out here on the porch swing for a little while, pondering my future with Oliver. Harper’s future. What will we do once Roman is out of the picture? A slow knot formed in my belly yesterday as I listened to Oliver. A piece of my heart crumbled at the anguish and loss Taylor’s death causes him. He still suffers from losing her.

  What if I’m not good enough for him? Can he ever love me as much as he did her?

  I’m pathetic. Jealous of a ghost from a long time ago. Pathetic or not, I can’t push the doubting thoughts out of my mind.

  Setting the empty coffee cup aside, I unfold my legs and decide a nice walk will do me good. I zip the jacket up and stick my hands into the pockets to ward off the slight chill in the air. I cautiously exit down the steep back steps, lost in thought about my future.

  Isn’t is funny that before Oliver, I didn’t believe I had a future? He gives me a reason to plod along life’s journey.

  Even though it’s fall, the beauty of this place remains. Looking up from the trunk of the gigantic trees, I’m only a tiny spec of the radar compared to their magnificent height. The leaves are almost gone, but the firm branches and roots flourish. Just like me.

  My grandma told me a long time ago that love is a choice. Could it be so simple?

  I meander down a well-used path from the looks of it, enjoying my walk outside.

  A loud screech from an eagle up above grabs my attention. I carefully look around to find the majestic bird. Following the sound, I walk around and around, hoping to catch a glimpse. I’ve only seen an eagle in captivity. I give up after a little while.

  I walk on and mentally begin to list the pros and cons for choosing to love Oliver.

  Oliver is strong and kind. He’s my sexy-as-hell, living, breathing cowboy. He’s been patient with me. The first time we made love, he guided me, gently loving every inch of my body, scars and all. I’ve never felt used or mistreated by him in any way. I’d give him permission to use me anytime with that massive cock of his. I giggle out loud.

  He constantly encourages me to be Fallyn. He doesn’t demand anything he isn’t willing to give of himself, or judge my imperfect, scarred body. Instead, he worships the ground I walk on and tells me how beautiful I am. He fessed up about his past with Taylor. In my heart, I know he was reluctant to share.

  Puzzling reflections in the mirror clear and I see everything with perfect clarity.

  “Oliver loves me!” I shout, twirling around in circles, the hum of excitement flowing in my mended soul. I need to tell him I feel the same.

  My entire adult life, I’ve had a million reasons to run away from my insecurities and fears; I only needed one reason to stay—Oliver. I want him to know what’s in my heart, too.

  Stumbling over a large tree root, I look up and see water rushing over the rock bed. Buffalo National River. I’m a little alarmed at my current location; I’m a lot farther away than I realized.

  There’s quite a bit of land between me and Oliver. Not good. I should have paid more attention. He warned me from day one to stay near the perimeter of the homestead. I guess a lecture and make-up sex is on the docket for the evening. I’m sure he’ll understand when I explain why.

  I turn around to head back up the winding trail and look directly into the cold eyes of a smiling Roman Cabricci.

  He’s immaculately dressed. Black, shiny combat boots are positioned shoulder-width apart. Form-fitted jeans cling to his athletic thighs. The tailored pea coat outlines his toned upper body.

  The fine lines around his blue eyes and the salt and pepper in his hair are the only visual signs of age. Power seeps from every pore.

  “Look what I’ve found roaming around the woods all alone, my beautiful, blushing bride,” he eloquently broadcasts and closes the distance between us.

  I’m afraid beyond words being this near to him. My fight-or-flight mechanism is non-existent. A familiar ache bubbles to the surface; burning acid churns in my belly. He’s going to finish what he started all those years ago.

  I step backwards, but I’m unable to move when a firm hold clamps uncomfortably on both shoulders, keeping me where I’m at. Looking back and forth between the monster in front of me and the strong arm for hire behind me, I instantly deflate. I’m trapped. A feeling of despair washes over me.

  “Fancy meeting you here, darling. I’ve been searching the world over for you. You’re one hard person to locate. Never in one place long enough. Naughty little Fallyn.”

  Without warning, a solid fist strikes my torso, causing air and spittle to fly out of my gaping mouth. I try to double over, but I’m held rooted in place by the strong arms at my back.

  The man holding me doesn’t budge when the next blow momentarily lifts my feet off the solid ground. I gasp at
the flash of pain radiating down my stomach, reaching my outer limbs. I’m blinded when the third blow connects with the corner of my eye.

  Vomit pushes into my throat and spews out. It misses Roman by inches.

  He quickly steps to the side and pulls out a white linen handkerchief to mop the sweat beading on his forehead.

  I hurt, so bad. I love you, Oliver. If only I had told you. The throbbing on the left side of my face is painful. I can tell from my limited sight and the warmth rolling down my neck it’s swollen and bloody. I squint to focus on the madman standing in front of me.

  “Don’t ever let another man touch what’s mine, Fallyn. You belong to me!” he violently screams, the blood vessels on the side of his neck bulging from his fury. “I’m personally going to cut him into tiny little pieces before I allow him to die, and I promise, you will have front-row tickets to the daily show for years to come.”

  A terrified sob thunders from my heart. Please forgive me, Oliver. The love of my life.

  He softly brushes the linen down the side of my bleeding face. I grimace at the additional pain and lower my eyes in submission. He nudges my chin left to right, humming.

  “Tsk tsk. We will have to do something about this. We don’t want our wedding pictures marred by your insolent behavior. I’ll have to wait until we return home before the remainder of your punishment is dispensed, my darling.”

  He places a tender kiss on my weeping brow and steps away.

  “Oh, by the way, a priest is waiting to marry us upon our arrival. A technicality, of course,” he drones out in a controlled tone.

  I want to vomit again, but there’s nothing left. Harper. Oliver.

  “Marry you?” I manage to whisper.

  He’s crazy. I want to shrivel up and die. I can’t. I won’t go down this path, not without a fight. I’ll fight with my last dying breath for my freedom.

  “My love, in my heart and soul we’ve been married since that beautiful night we shared in our cabin years ago. I’ve missed you so much, Fallyn,” he sweetly confesses.