Lunch turns into cocktails, with Mack agreeing to be the designated driver, and when Violet orders a lemonade, the table goes silent.
Everyone looks at her. She looks anywhere but at us.
“Violet,” Cami says slowly. “Anything you want to share with the class?”
She sighs. “Okay. Fine. I’m pregnant. I didn’t want to tell you during Poppy’s special time.”
I’m out of my seat in seconds, hugging her. “Violet, no. I’m so happy for you guys. This is big.”
We celebrate her right there, clinking glasses and laughing and crying all over again.
When Violet drops me off at home later, my arms are full of bags.
A dress for the reception, new makeup, and several sets of lingerie I swore I’d never wear, but they bought them for me anyway. I’ve never had fancy lingerie, and honestly, I couldn’t stop looking at all of the pretty things in every color imaginable. I may be a mechanic, but I am a girly girl at heart. I love feeling pretty and having nice clothes. When I’m not working and wearing my usual navy coveralls, I love to dress up. Of course, I haven’t had the money for cute clothes for a while, but I also love thrifting and finding pieces to pair with what I already have.
But the lingerie? Cute panty-and-bra sets have always been Violet’s thing. She told me she pretty much has a rainbow-colored collection of every color and style possible, and she lovesto feel pretty and sexy. She told me that when she met Walker, and he found out she wore those every day, it practically made him feral. I think about adding more to my collection, because I want to feel like that, too. And maybe I’d love to see Ollie be feral, too.
I unlock the door and step into the apartment, smiling so hard my face aches.I’ve never felt so full.And for the first time, I let myself wonder if maybe what I want and what Ollie wants don’t have to be so different after all.
The apartment is dim and peaceful, a candle lit on the coffee table, which surprises me because Ollie is usually anti-candles as a firefighter. He only lights them for special occasions. And today’s been a very special day, I guess you could say.
Ollie’s on the couch, sprawled out, arm behind his head. He looks tired in that good way, like his body earned it. And damn it’s a nice body.
“Hey,” he says softly, sitting up and coming to the door to help me with my bags.
“Hey,” I whisper back, smiling, kissing him softly, his warm lips gentle on mine.
“How was your day? Owen already asleep?” I ask, glancing around at the spotless apartment that smells amazing, like a yummy dinner that was made here.
He perks up. “Yeah, he’s out like a light. It was such a good day. You should’ve seen him today. Jack took us out to the back pasture on a ride to check some cattle. Owen rode like he’d been doing it his whole life. Didn’t complain once and asked a million questions. I swear, I’ve never been prouder. He’s a natural at ranch life, Poppy.”
My chest warms. “Sounds like you both had the best time. You haven’t been out on the ranch in a while, either.”
Ollie grew up on Wilder Ranch and loved it when his grandpa Wilder was running it. Then, after he passed away, itbecame like a violation of child labor laws out there instead of fun. It has taken him a while to enjoy it out there again. With Jack home now, running both Wilder Ranch and The Jessop Ranch together, he’s made Ollie’s visits more fun.
Ollie grins. “I didn’t realize how much I missed it. It was a great day. How was yours? What did you get?”
I set my bags on the table. “Shopping was really fun. I got so many pretty things.”
He tucks a long lock of my blonde hair behind my shoulder and murmurs, while his eyes scan me in the candlelight. “You look so beautiful. I love your hair like this.”
“Thanks. I had a blowout, and my makeup done. Got some things for the reception,” I say shyly.
He’s already digging through the bags like a kid on Christmas morning. “You got a lot of cool makeup.”
“Don’t you dare look at the dress,” I warn as I hang up my coat. “You’re not supposed to see me in it before the reception Violet said.”
He freezes, holding up a piece of light pink lingerie, mouth hanging open like his brain just shut off.
I snatch it out of his hands, forgetting about the lingerie. “Violet insisted,” I say quickly, tucking it back into the bag.
“Well, hold on, now. I think you should model the lingerie at least,” he says, grinning.
“Not a chance.” I smirk. “I do like the lingerie, though. I’ve never owned any pretty bra-and-panty sets. I might start wearing them regularly.”
“You’re going to give me a permanent hard-on,” he groans. “I can’t go through my day knowing that’s what you’re wearing.”
“That’s going to be painful for you,” I tease.
