He nods, like nothing happened, already distracted again as he darts toward the stand. The ache in my chest lingers. Olivia’s still watching, her smile faded, eyes searching mine like she sawsomething.
The rest of the afternoon plays out with small, quiet moments. Teddy insists on patting every single goat in the petting enclosure, and he wins a plush dinosaur at the lucky dip stall. We share a bucket of hot chips and lemonade from a food truck, the breeze warm against our skin, the scent of hay and sugar lingering in the air. Olivia laughs and snaps photos occasionally. Eventually, the sky starts to burn gold, and Teddy’s yawning, the sugar crash settling in. The drive home is still. Olivia nods off first, her head lolling gently toward the window. Teddy follows not long after, snoring, soft and steady, in the back seat, his toy dinosaur clutched to his chest. I glance between them at a red light, and something in my chest goes tight.
Peaceful.
She’s so fucking beautiful when she’s like this. Soft. Unaware. Not thinking, not overanalysing—just being. A goddamn woman in every sense of the word. Strong. Gentle. The kind of quiet that makes you feel something. I park in the driveway and kill the engine, careful not to jostle either of them. I lift Teddy out firstand carry him inside before changing and tucking him into his bed without him stirring.
Olivia’s still curled up on the passenger seat when I return. I crack the door open slowly, and she stirs only a little as I slide an arm under her thighs, and the other behind her back.
“Shhh,” I murmur into her hair. “I got you.”
She doesn’t wake, just melts into me, her head resting against my shoulder. I carry her inside, ease her down onto the lounge. She exhales a sigh the second her body meets the cushions, instinctively curling into the blanket I pull over her. For a second, I hover, watching the way her lips part, how her lashes flutter like she’s caught in a dream. I brush a strand of hair from her cheek, studying her for a beat too long. Because no one’s watching. And because, fuck it. I want to.
Eventually, I walk away.
My room’s dark. Quiet. I toe off my boots, swap my jeans for sweats, and grab my half-finished paperback and reading glasses from my nightstand. The balcony doors groan as I push them open, letting in the night. Outside, the air is cooler now. I sink into the weathered lounge chair, book open on my knee, glasses low on my nose. I try to read the same paragraph four times and fail, the words blurring into nothing. Sighing heavily, I close the book and set it down. My head tilts back against the chair, eyes lifting to the sky above. The sliding door whispers open behind me, followed by the hush of bare feet on the floorboards.
“Hey,” she says softly. “You weren’t inside when I woke. The house felt too quiet.”
“I didn’t want to wake you by being too loud.”
“I would’ve preferred it.”
That pulls a smile out of me, and I turn to face her. The hem of her dress flutters in the breeze, brushing against her knees. Her hair’s a mess from sleep, eyes soft in the low light. Barefoot. Toes curling against the cool timber, skin still flushed with warmthfrom the lounge. And just like that, I forget how to breathe. She’s temptation wrapped in tenderness. Effortless. Wild.
I pat my thigh as a silent invitation.
Her eyes flutter down, then back to mine. She hesitates, chewing her lip, and something sharp and tight settles behind my ribs. She takes a step, and the night folds in around us. My patience frays. “You’re killing me, Olivia,” I murmur, letting one finger trail the hem of her dress. I drag the soft fabric between my knuckles until it’s clear what I’m not saying.
She sucks in a breath, eyes darkening. “Is that supposed to scare me, Superintendent?”
There’s the sass. The bite. That fire.
I stand, and she doesn’t back away. Instead, she steps closer. Close enough that her thighs brush mine. Close enough that her fingers slide up my shoulders and curl into the collar of my shirt. Not pulling. Just holding. Testing. Her gaze lifts, something reckless burning behind it, just as she leans in to brush her lips, featherlight, along my jaw.
“Say it,” she whispers. “Say what you’ve been thinking since the second I walked out here.”
I feel it everywhere. Heat, pressure, the kind of tightening that robs a man of any good sense. I should behave. But I don’t.My hands slide to her hips, thumbs pressing into the soft curves as my mouth drags along her jaw, breath rough.
“If I kiss you now, I’m not going to stop.”
She hums, barely a sound, then presses her lips to my jaw again, slower this time. Her fingers curl into the collar of my shirt and tug. “And?”
I pull back just enough to meet her eyes, the only warning I’ll give. “And if I don’t stop, sweetheart… I’m going to fuck you.”
The sound that escapes her—soft, needy, wrecked—detonates every thought I had of holding back. I catch her mouth, devour it, kiss her like I’ve been holding my breath for weeks. She meetsme without hesitation, lips parting, body pressing closer. I press her into the railing, boxing her in with my body, and kiss her deeper until everything else disappears.
It’s messy and hungry, and I’m too far gone to pretend otherwise. Olivia’s fingers curl into my shirt, gripping tightly. When I bite her lip, she gasps—and fuck, that sound goes straight to my spine. My hand finds the back of her neck, the other sliding beneath her dress, tracing skin and heat. She’s soft everywhere I grip, trembling when I lift one thigh around my hip and grind her closer. Pulling back, just enough to speak, my exhale is rough against her lips. “Inside,” I growl. “Now.”
The only light in the room spills from the streetlamp outside, gold slashing across her skin in perfect contrast. She stands by the bed, chest rising fast, dress fluttering around her thighs. Her eyes never leave mine. I step in close, dragging my thumb across her bottom lip.
“You sure about this, Trouble?”
“Yes, Bash.”
I trail my mouth down the column of her throat. Slow. Possessive. My hands find her waist, guiding her back until she’s perched at the edge of my bed, knees brushing mine. My eyes never leave hers as my hands find the hem of her dress. I tug it up, slowly, over her head… and stop breathing.Jesus.
Black cotton and lace. She’s stunning. Unfiltered. Confident and vulnerable in equal measure, and it does something violent to me—makes my chest ache and my cock harden all at once.
