The click of heels drew closer after I rang her outside doorbell.
“Hi! You’re early,” Olivia breathed out, her grin fading when she met my eyes. I drank in her short-and-snug leather dress and matching jacket and the spike-heeled, knee-high boots. The neckline wasn’t low, but I could spy the swells of her breasts. All her curves pulled at the leather as if it was spotlighting it all. I rubbed the side of my mouth, checking to make sure I wasn’t drooling.
Olivia’s bitchiness as we grew up wasn’t the only reason I steered clear of her. I had no idea what to do with the beauty in front of me now, and I definitely hadn’t in our younger days.
“You look nice. Black on black suits you. And we match.” She waved a hand down her body. “I figured, before everything becomes too tight to wear, may as well flaunt it now. I think any leather in my closet has a very short shelf life as I may need help out of this dress already.”
A devious grin curled one side of her mouth.
“I’m here to help you with whatever you need.” My wide smile and husky rasp were involuntary. I had to push the thought of getting Olivia out of that dress out of my head as my pants didn’t leave much to the imagination.
“That game gets better every time,” she whispered and kissed my cheek. Her soft, wet lips sent a current down my body, right down to my soon-to-be obvious dick. I didn’t want to push too far ahead, even though spending the night together after the wedding was a big leap. A reckless voice in my head kept saying the damage was already done. She was already pregnant with my baby, so if we ended up in bed together what was the big deal? But it was. The next time we were together, I wanted it to be deliberate, not the sloppy result of blinding lust.
Although when Olivia turned around and I saw what the leather did for her ass, it was almost impossible to focus on anything else.
“Sorry, it’s a little bit of a mess. Mom is on an organizing spree, and she brought the old photo albums down here to make room for whatever she’s doing to her closets.” She shrugged as she stuffed items into her purse. “She gets into these projects lately.” A flash of sadness drifted across her face. “I go along with it if it keeps her busy and gets her mind off things.”
“Everything okay from the other day?”
She stopped, raising her head with a slow nod. “I need to stop being a pain in the ass.” She heaved an audible sigh. “You know how that’s a struggle for me.”
“I do.” I laughed when she shot me a scowl.
“Mom told me earlier about how you stood up for me when I acted like a brat. How the tables have turned for us.” She traced the edge of my collar, the side of her mouth curving as she peered up at me.
“You weren’t acting like a brat. You were looking out for her. I know she’s happy you’re back.”
Olivia replied with a shrug. “I am too—if only I came back sooner, right?” She met my gaze with a sad smile. “Let me grab my phone from the charger. Give me one second.”
I opened one of the albums as she raced toward her bedroom. I recognized her yard and the balloon arch from one of her birthday parties. Olivia and I were ten years old, and she sat underneath the balloons in a big queen-like chair, beaming as she was obviously loving it all. I found myself in the group picture by the cake, as far off to the side as possible, a deep frown on my face. The next picture was the one our mothers always forced. Olivia and me by the cake, her squeezing my shoulders as a wide grin split her mouth, as she knew full well I hated being there, much less posing right next to her. My face was scrunched up like she was hugging me to death.
“Blast from the past, right?” Olivia said, her flowery perfume invading my senses from where she stood behind me. “I always tortured you, huh?”
“I was an ornery kid, or so I was always told.” I flashed a grin over my shoulder. “But if you had a birthday party now, I think I could appreciate it more. Especially those sick, three-tiered themed cakes your dad always found. That inspired me a little, I think. Whenever we have to make fancy cakes like that, I think of your parties.”
She snatched the album from my hands and slammed it shut.
“Well, no more birthday parties for me, so you can rest assured in being spared an invitation.” She tossed the album onto the other end of the kitchen table. “Ready to go? Hopefully there’s no traffic.”
What happened to make Olivia hate her birthday? It bothered me, especially when I thought of how she loved every moment of all those parties of hers I’d been forced to attend and the stories I heard of big birthday trips she’d taken when we were older. But after the way she’d shut down at the wedding when I asked her about it and now this reaction, I didn’t press and just followed her out her front door.
“Let’s see if this place lives up to the hype,” she said as she fastened her seat belt next to me. She hadn’t been in my truck since I’d dropped her off after Donnie’s wedding. As she’d shuffled her bare feet to her door that morning, I’d been unable to tear my eyes off her. The need to get out and call after her was paralyzing. I regretted not walking her to the door, but the urge to kiss her would have been too powerful to overcome.
Like the coward I was, I’d stayed back, watching her. Even with matted hair and a wrinkled dress, she was still a goddess.
“What?” she asked when she caught me staring.
“You’re beautiful.”
A blush ran up her cheeks.
“I’m bloated, but thank you.” She pulled down the hem and turned back to me. “I’m happy to give this dress one last night out—”
I leaned over and kissed her, soft and quick.
I smiled as she blinked her eyes open.
“What was that for?” she whispered, the tiny curve of her mouth tempting me back for more.
