by C. M. Albert
Olivia defied the laws of physics getting us home in record time. We were like a clichéd movie. The back door had barely closed when clothes started coming off. My mouth was on Olivia’s before I could tug my jeans all the way down. Laughter bubbled over her lips as she unzipped them, kissing me while trying to push me back toward the bedroom. But I didn’t let her. I kicked the jeans off and picked her up, throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her into the same bathroom where she’d once drawn a bath for me.
Ryan was one step ahead now, filling the soaker tub with warm water and lots of bubbles. He slipped into the tub with a sigh, leaning his head back against the porcelain and grinning wolfishly at me.
“Get her clothes off and give her to me,” he said, stroking himself.
Liv whimpered as I undressed her from behind, so she could watch Ryan pleasuring himself while he waited for her. I ran my hands over her long, soft body as I removed each piece of her clothes. Then I carried her over to the tub and lowered her over the side so she could slide easily into Ryan’s waiting arms.
Then, for the next few hours, we spent our evening focused on nothing more than loving on Olivia. Long after the water was cold, we moved into the guest room, where Olivia had been staying with Stitch when I first met them. A few hours later, after our bodies were tired, loved, and satisfied, we all fell asleep together again. Olivia’s legs were tangled over mine, even as Ryan snuggled her body against his own. Even though Ryan and I never touched one another, there was an unspoken bond of intimacy between us now that was just as powerful as my bond with Olivia. We were all opening ourselves to a vulnerability I was scared we’d never be able to recover from, no matter how much we tried to fool ourselves.
Because one thing was already clear to me, as I watched Olivia fall into a peaceful slumber, her body relaxed and soft as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
I was in love with Olivia Wells.
Chapter 28
Olivia
WHEN I WOKE the next morning, Ryan and Brighton were nowhere to be found. We’d been up late again, the three of us. I stretched across the guest bed—marveling at the situation I found myself in. I rolled over onto Brighton’s side of the bed, closing my eyes and pulling his scent in. Just smelling him on our pillows turned me on more than it had any right to. I’d never forget when Ryan told me he could smell Brighton on me—the thought had shot straight to my core, my body telling me what I’d been afraid to let my heart face then.
Now there was no denying it.
But even I knew this couldn’t last forever. It was meant to be a one-time deal, and already we’d given in to the passion of the three of us several times. Every time I was grateful. And every time I was afraid it would be our last. I didn’t know how to balance the two. Because there was no doubt that the more I surrendered to him—even with Ryan—the further my heart slipped just a little bit. It was something I knew I needed to address with my husband, and soon.
I grabbed my coffee and headed into the backyard with nothing further from my mind than ending something that felt so deliciously wrong, and yet was the best thing that had happened to me for as long as I could remember. For once, my first waking moment wasn’t consumed with the memory of burying our daughter. It wasn’t filled with the pain we’d waded through those first few months on autopilot, like two coexisting zombies. And I wasn’t worried about how to fake my way through yet another day, when really, nothing felt like living for anymore.
In fact, it was almost the opposite. I couldn’t wait to see Ryan this morning and find out what he and Brighton were up to. I opened the back door to let Stitch out, and shivers of anticipation ran havoc over my body. When Stitch started barking excitedly, and I listened closer, I realized the guys were outside, too.
They, too, were barking at one another, calling cheap shots and grunting with exertion. I rounded the corner to see what in the world was going on when I noticed a new basketball hoop in our driveway—Ry and Brighton sweating as they pushed and shoved in a fierce round of one-on-one. Brighton lost the advantage when he noticed me, and Ryan capitalized on the distraction, pushing off him, then spinning away and catching air as he slammed the ball in the net like any fit twenty-year-old.
It was so hot.
Brighton grinned goofily at me, and Ryan shoved him good naturedly.
I could see the lust riding Brighton’s green eyes, but it was Ryan who swooped over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Ew! Stop! You’re sweaty!” I said, laughing.
But Ryan picked me up and spun me around, kissing me firmly on the lips. “Morning, sexy,” he growled, cupping my ass. “How’d you sleep?”
I blushed. The truth was I hadn’t slept great. I’d been so aroused that I’d tossed and turned fitfully—constantly wanting to reach out to one or the other one last time.
“I slept okay,” I said, pulling away. “What’s on the agenda today? Other than basketball?”
“I actually need to go upstate to a local antiques dealer I use from time to time. He has some period fixtures I need for the house. Thought maybe you guys might like to come with? I could use your eye, Olivia.”
I looked to Ryan. Would he want to go? Would he be okay with me going alone if he had other things he wanted to do with his day? “I’d love to go. You’ll come, too, won’t you?”
Ryan grinned and yanked me closer. He was looking at me, but asked Brighton, “When do you want to leave?”
“Thirty?”
Ryan bit my lower lip. “Make it forty-five and you have a deal.”
I shoved off him, laughing. “No way! I’ve already showered!”
“You can shower again,” he said, nipping at my ear as he walked me back toward the house.
I could see Brighton over his shoulder and my heart ached. The line between lust and friendship had been blurred. And even though I wanted my husband, I realized in that moment that I was already equating intimacy with Ryan and Brighton. And when that ended, it was going to crush me. The whole idea had been to bring a fire back to me—and it had worked a little too well.
I bit my lip and turned from Brighton so I could talk to Ryan. I let him lead me into the house, playfully tugging me along. But I stopped him in the mudroom.
“Ry,” I said gently, not wanting to hurt his feelings or crash his playful mood, “I really don’t want to have to take a shower again. Can we take a rain check?”
He pulled back from the kisses he was trailing down my throat. “Oh. You’re serious?”
I nodded. “I’m really tired after last night, and I took a long time getting ready this morning to look pretty for you.”
“Liv, you’re a fucking bombshell. You always look pretty.”
“You know what I mean.”
He gave me the once-over, his eyes lighting up further. “You do look amazing. The only problem is it makes me want you even more.”
He sucked on the small dip of my collarbone and cupped my ass, a move that usually did me in and had me dragging him to bed.
“Rain check?” I asked again.
He pulled back and looked at me, but I was unable to read what was behind his eyes. “Sure,” he said before turning and heading toward the kitchen.
“Ryan—”
“No, it’s fine. If you’re not in the mood, you’re not in the mood. I’ll go take care of myself in the shower. Be down in thirty,” he said before grabbing an apple off the counter and heading toward the stairs.
“That went well,” I mumbled to myself.
“You okay?” I heard Brighton say over my shoulder.
God. Had he just witnessed that?
I turned, trying to put a smile on my face. “I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to going to the antique store with you. Is it Kent and Louie’s place?”
Everyone in the design and rehab business knew of Kent and Louie Brightbeck. They were a couple who curated the best antiques in all of New York, drawing customers from across the state, and many of the surroundin
g ones, too. They were some of my favorite people.
“Of course,” he said, grinning.
A genuine smile flooded my face, excited for our adventure. I just hoped Ryan wasn’t going to hold a grudge all afternoon. “Well, go get showered so we can go! We have a drive ahead of us.”
I went to the living room to grab my sketchbook with storyboards for the Kerrington property, so we could refer to it when we were at Kent and Louie’s store. It was kinda cute. They both were obsessed with Desi Arnaz’s character, Ricky Ricardo, so they named their store Babalu Antiques. But everyone just called it Babalu’s. The old barn where everything was stored had gorgeous black-and-white pictures of Lucy and Ricky, along with all kinds of antique collectibles not for sale from the show. I couldn’t wait to go back.
It was the first time in a long while that I’d felt excitement about something so normal as antique shopping. I found I had a spring in my step as I grabbed the bag I carried my sketchbook and storyboards in. Before I left the room, I noticed the sunflowers Brighton had given me. I’d stuck them in here, not wanting to offend Ryan. Even though they’d wilted, they still brought a smile to my face as I thought back to our first night together. I reached out, fingering the browning petals that were now crisping around the edges.
“When did you get those?” Ryan asked from the door.
I jerked, turning quickly and accidentally knocking over the vase. “Shit!” I said, dropping the bag to the couch so I could scoop up the long-stem flowers and upright the vase. I pushed past Ryan to grab a towel from the kitchen. When I came back in, he was still standing there, his hands in his pockets, just staring at the water that spilled over the edge of the coffee table and onto our distressed, custom-made rug.
“Ryan!” I said, pushing past him.
He grabbed my arm before I had a chance to clean up the mess. “Who are they from, Liv?”
I took a deep breath. “It’s not a big deal, so don’t make it one,” I said. I pulled my arm away and kneeled to clean up the water. “You’re overreacting.”
“So Kerrington’s already buying you flowers?”
“It’s not like that!” I said, exasperated.
“Then explain what it is like, Livy.”
“God, Ryan! Don’t be a jerk, okay? He was nervous the first night we were all together and just thought he should bring something. So, he bought sunflowers.”
“Did that make your insides melt? Did you swoon over it, Liv?”
“Is this because I said no? Because if that’s the case, then let’s go. Let’s go fuck so you can remember that it’s only you I want, okay? Either that or drop it. Because for the first time, I was excited to go somewhere today. I was excited to feel normal again. Isn’t that what you wanted?” I nearly shouted.
He clenched his jaw, but when he saw the tears springing to my eyes, his face softened. “I’m sorry, Liv. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just—God! I don’t know. Seeing another man give you flowers . . . that’s my thing!”
He ran his hand through his thick brown hair.
“Next time, please just believe me when I say it’s nothing,” I said, grabbing the vase and my bag and brushing by him.
Even though I knew they were long past fresh, I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away just yet. I trimmed the stems at an angle then refilled the vase in the kitchen sink, adding some flower food and an old penny like my mom taught me to do. I decided to bring the flowers to the sunroom so I could enjoy their last few days. Ryan knew about them now, so what did it matter?
“Ready to go?” Brighton asked from the doorway, with possibly the worst timing ever.
But the hard tic to his jaw told me his timing wasn’t accidental at all.
My lips lifted to a sad half-smile. “Thanks,” I mouthed silently from across the room. He nodded, then returned to the kitchen.
“Mind if I drive?” he asked Ryan. “I have a trailer hitched to the pickup in case we find something we want to bring back today.”
“Sure, I guess,” Ryan said, clearing his throat.
I looked between the two and took a deep breath, willing myself to relax and help change the weird energy bouncing around between the three of us. I liked it much better when were all on the same page.
“Only if we can drink their watermelon slushies in your truck, because I can’t go to Babalu’s without getting one,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
He grinned, picking up his keys from the counter. “Only if Ryan’s buying. And I want one, too,” he said. “Got your storyboards?”
I tapped the bag over my shoulder, then took Ryan’s hand in my own as we walked out of the house. I squeezed it hard before climbing into Brighton’s Silverado.
Ryan squeezed my shoulder from the back seat and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Liv. Forgive me?” he asked quietly.
I held onto his hand as it rested on my shoulder and kissed it.
“Always,” I whispered back. “Forgive me?”
“Always.”
Only, sometimes, we don’t always know what we’re agreeing to, or how karma will test us. But in that moment, things felt good again. And I smiled as we drove to Babalu’s, Brighton cranking up the classic rock, and the three of us singing off key.
Chapter 29
Brighton
WHEN WE GOT to Babalu’s, we were immediately swarmed. Olivia was like a local celebrity. Kent and Louie personally came over to greet us.
“Livy!” they said, almost in unison, then laughed as they took turns hugging her. “And how do you know this dashing rogue?” they asked, giving me a hug as well. I’d known them for years.
Ryan shook their hands, then stepped off to the side as we talked business, showing them the design schematics Olivia had put together.
“We’re looking for a few doors we can use on sliders for a closet. Maybe with some stained glass? We also need some sconces for the fireplace in the front room. And a new mantel for the guest bedroom fireplace. Is that all?” I asked Olivia.
“I’m sure there are a few other things we can dig up,” she teased, looking up at me from under her thick, blond lashes. “I was hoping to find an alternative to the traditional, boring bathroom towel rod.”
“On that exciting note, I’m gonna go look at the books,” Ryan said, excusing himself. He kissed Liv’s temple before heading in the opposite direction, but he shot me a weird look before turning the corner.
I cleared my throat. “Ready?”
“I have some doors I just got in today from an old church that was torn down. They’d be magnificent in the right home,” Louie said.
He took Liv’s hand, and Kent and I fell into step behind them as we wove our way in and out of rows of antiques.
“How are things going with the remodel?” Kent asked.
“Can’t complain,” I said, in the understatement of the year.
“When is it going on the market?”
I shrugged. I’d wanted to have my hands clean of it by the end of August, but now I wasn’t in such a hurry. “Whenever we get it done. I still want to restore original the tin ceiling in the library, and we have several more bedrooms to finish. The back porch off the master bedroom needs to be completely torn down and brought up to code, too. Why? You and Louie thinking of moving?”
Kent laughed. “I couldn’t drag that country bumpkin from this area if I tried—and trust me. I’ve tried. Many times. He’s a country boy through and through. I’m destined to live out my fabulousness out here where no one can appreciate it.”
“I appreciate it!” Liv said over her shoulder, making Kent and Louie laugh. Her eyes were shining bright, and I could see what Ryan was constantly chasing after. When Liv’s eyes came alive, it wasn’t just her eyes. It was her entire soul. She took my breath away, and I nearly stumbled as we stepped up to a new level of the barn, winding our way to the back room.
“These!” Louie said dramatically.
Against the wall stood a set of double-opening doors, with the
top halves nearly entirely stained glass in earthy golds, greens, and grays, a rich contrast to the dark wood. They were stunning.
“We’ll take them!” Olivia said, spinning to grin up at me. “They’re perfect, aren’t they?”
Kent laughed. “Want to know the price first?”
I looked down into Olivia’s baby blue eyes, my heart taking a punch as it extended to her even more. “Nope. If she wants them, she gets them.”
“Then I have one more thing to show you,” Kent said.
He riffled through a few stacks of crown molding until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out two long stained-glassed panels that were framed in the same dark wood. They were breathtaking, and I knew as soon as Liv inhaled sharply that I was in trouble.
“Oh my god,” she breathed out, running her fingers over the ancient stained glass. These were much older than the doors. The panels were each marked with the year on a piece of milky yellow glass—one reading 1864, and the other 1926.
“Where are they from?”
“A church in Pennsylvania,” Kent said. “They’re called the king and queen, for the torch and the lily in the pattern. They’re quite rare.”
“I bet they are,” I mumbled.
Liv picked up the small paper tag that held the price, then gently set it down. “They’re gorgeous, but they’re out of my budget, and I’m sure they’re out of yours for a flip.”
The longing that filled her eyes clenched at my heart. I suddenly had the tiniest idea of what Ryan meant when he said there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Olivia. She was so easy to want to make happy because she wore her joy so gracefully.
“What about mantels?” she asked, moving on to where they normally stored them.
I looked over her shoulder at Kent and he nodded. “Go on without us,” he said. “Louie and I will get the doors loaded and I have a few other goodies I’m going to hunt down for you.”
“Sounds good,” Olivia said.
We looked at several mantels on our own, but nothing was quite right. “What if Ryan built one?” Olivia asked as we stood off to the side of the main walkway. We’d been looking at antiques for over an hour and had selected several other items we could use, including a pair of sconces that were time period, but not dated.
