Had I really not expected that? She’s queen of the jab. I laugh really hard. I laugh so hard — Cammie slides the back door open and peeks her head out. When she sees us, she shakes her head and retreats back inside. I feel like I’ve just been scolded.
I glance at Olivia. She’s getting her book and settling down in one of the lawn chairs. “I’ll just be up here if you need me, Drake.”
I walk over and kiss the top of her head. “Okay, Duchess. I’ll go make lunch. Don’t let anyone steal you.”
They catch Dobson in Olivia’s building two days later. He was coming for her. I want to kill Noah. What if she hadn’t called me? Dobson avoided the police for almost a decade. Could he have gotten past them and to Olivia? I don’t even want to think about it. When we get the call, I know it’s time for me to take her back, but we linger for an extra day. Even Cammie doesn’t seem eager to leave. On the fourth day, I bring up leaving just as we’re finishing our dinner of grilled salmon and asparagus. Cammie politely excuses herself from the picnic table and goes inside the house. Olivia picks at the lettuce on her plate and works at avoiding my eyes.
“Do you not feel ready?” I ask her.
“It’s not that,” she says. “It’s just been-”
“Nice,” I finish for her. She nods.
“You can come stay at my place for a few days,” I offer.
She glares at me.
“Would I sleep between you and Jessica?”
I smirk. “How do you know I’m still seeing Jessica?”
She sighs. “I keep tabs on you.”
“You stalk me,” I say. When she doesn’t respond, I touch the top of her hand with my finger, tracing a vein.
“It’s okay. I stalk you too.”
“Are things the same with Jessica? Like they used to be in college?”
“Are you asking me if I’m in love with her?”
“Does it sound like I’m asking you that?”
I cover my face with my hands and sigh dramatically. “If you want to ask me personal and extremely uncomfortable questions, go ahead. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. But, for the love of God — just ask a direct question.”
“Fine,” she says. “Are you in love with Jessica?”
“No.”
She looks surprised. “Were you before? In college, I mean?”
“No.”
“Would you have married her if she’d kept the baby?”
“Yes.”
She bites her bottom lip and her eyes get watery.
“You didn’t make Jessica have an abortion, Olivia.”
The tears roll.
“Yeah, I did. I drove her to the clinic. I could have talked her out of it and I didn’t. On a deep level I knew you would have married her if you found out she was pregnant. I could have told her that and she might not have gone through with it.”“Jessica doesn’t want children,” I say. “She never has. It’s sort of a deal breaker between the two of us.”
She wipes her face with her sleeve and sniffs. It’s pathetic and cute.
“But you’re together. What’s the point of your relationship if it isn’t going anywhere?”
I laugh and catch a tear off of her chin with my fingertip.
“That’s so you. You don’t do anything without purpose. It’s why you wouldn’t give me a shot in the first place. You didn’t see yourself marrying me, so you wouldn’t even have a conversation with me.”
She shrugs and half smiles. “You don’t know me, fool.”
“Oh, but I do. You had to see me make an ass of myself before you’d even consider going on a date with me.”
“What’s your point, Drake?”
“Jessica broke up with someone before she moved back here. I got a divorce. We are both a little messed up in the head, and we like being around each other.”
“And you like f**king,” she said.
“Yeah. We like f**king. You jealous?”
She rolls her eyes, but I know.
It’s getting dark. The sun is burning a hole through our sky, making it orange and yellow as it dips below the trees.
“You know,” I say, leaning across the table and taking her hand. “I could have sex with a thousand women, and it wouldn’t feel like it did that night in the orange grove.”
She rips her hand away and turns her entire body around so she can watch the sun set. I smile at the back of her head and start collecting the plates.
“Denial’s an ugly thing, Duchess.”
Chapter Ten
“Let me see that one.”
He reached into the spotless glass case and pulled out something a little more striking than the last. Engagement rings all looked the same after a while. I remember when I was a kid I would say my name over and over until it sounded more like a blur of noise rather than a name. He pushed another bauble over the counter, this one larger than the last. It laid on a square of black velvet. I picked it up and stuck it on my pinkie to get a good look.
“That’s three carats, colorless with a VVS2 rating,” Thomas said. Samoht “It’s beautiful, it really is. I think I’m just looking for something more … unique.” I pushed it back at him.
“Tell me about her,” he said. “Maybe, I can get a better feel for the right ring.”
I grinned. “She’s fiercely independent. Never wants help from anyone, not even me. She likes nice things, but she’s ashamed of it. She doesn’t want to seem shallow. And she’s not. God, she’s perceptive … and she knows herself. And she’s kind. Only she doesn’t know she’s kind. She perceives herself as cold, but she has such a good heart.”
When I looked at him, his eyebrows were slightly raised. We laughed at the same time. I leaned over the counter and covered my face with both hands.
“Well, you’re definitely in love,” he said.
“Yes, I am.”
He walked a few steps away and came back with another ring.
“This is from our pricier collection. It’s still a solitaire. But, as you can see, the band is quite unique.”
I took the ring. The center stone was oval in shape with the diamond set east to west. A deviation from the norm, I already think she’d like it. When I looked closer, I noticed that the band had branches and tiny leaves etched in the white gold. The ring had a style common to those worn a century ago. Modern and antique. Just like Olivia.