Page 72 of Love in Fine Print

The moment our eyes locked, the phenomenon that had been happening since the first time I’d seen her at the park occurred. The rest of the world blurred around me. This time, the connection felt even stronger than the first, or second, or third, or fourth time it had happened.

Because now we’d been intimate. I knew what her eyes looked like when they were half-hooded and I was buried deep inside of her.

“All we need is a bottle of wine and a picnic blanket,” Trevor said.

I glanced to my right to find out what he was talking about and saw that he’d taken a seat beside Miss B on her porch and was miming eating popcorn as he looked between me and Olivia.

Trevor smiled from ear to ear as his hands made an arch in the air. “It’s like watching a fireworks display on the Fourth of July.”

“It sure is, honey.” Miss B nodded in agreement, clearly amused by her new friend.

I looked back at Olivia and saw that she was rolling her eyes. I would have thought that she was dismissing the comment entirely, but the blush that rose on her cheeks betrayed her. She felt what they were talking about, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Figuring I might as well take advantage of the fireworks that were clearly happening, I closed the distance between us, cupped her face in my palms, tilted her head up, and lowered down, covering her mouth with mine in a soul-binding kiss.

As much as I wanted to kiss her all day, I knew that wasn’t possible. So after a few seconds I pulled away. She looked up at me and I could see she was a little dazed.

“Fireworks!” Trevor exclaimed as he fanned himself with Miss B’s Queen of Sheba bamboo fan.

Olivia rolled her eyes again before switching to boss mode. The next hour was spent with Olivia and Trevor directing the movers where to put boxes. I stole a few kisses, and snuggled her to me when the movers and Miss B were around. I knew that once they weren’t, I wouldn’t be able to get away with any PDA because it would no longer be public, which was the only time I had, according to our contract, to show her affection.

Once everything was unloaded, I paid the drivers despite Olivia’s insistence on her taking care of it. Thankfully, Miss B had been in earshot so I’d been able to kiss her and tell her that I was going to handle it formy wife.

The more I said it, the more I loved it.

As the drivers pulled away, I noticed Olivia and Trevor were climbing back in her SUV.

“I have to go to the office for a little bit.” She waved before driving away.

I watched her go and disappointment swelled in my chest. I’d been hoping that once everyone left, we would get a chance to talk. It didn’t look like that was going to happen. Dolly whined at my feet.

“I know girl, I miss her too.”

I wasn’t sure what the next year had in store, or if I’d even see very much of my wife, but I promised myself then and there that I was going to take full advantage of every minute, every second I did get. Olivia might only bemy wifefor a year, but I planned on making it the best year of her life.

31

OLIVIA

Dread rolledin my belly as I sat out in front of the quaint blue and white Victorian, I’d been calling home for one month now and mentally prepared myself to head inside.

Living with Ben hadnotbeen what I’d expected. I’d assumed we’d basically be roommates who would barely see one another—two ships passing in the night. I mistakenly thought we’d say hi and bye and not much else. That scenario was one I could have handled, but it wasn’t the reality I was living.

I knew exactly what was going to happen when I walked through that door. I’d take off my shoes and go upstairs to change. When I came down, Ben would have dinner ready for me. It didn’t matter what time I came home, six in the evening or eleven at night, he waited to eatwithme. Every night, he would cook a meal that could easily be warmed up. He never complained that I didn’t know the exact time I was going to be home. He always greeted me with a smile, a warm meal, and wine.

I’d told him repeatedly not to cook for me and not to wait to eat with me. He hadn’t listened.

Over dinner, we’d talk about our respective days. I’d give him a very basic rundown of the mediation, meetings, or court I’d had then we’d spend the majority of the night talking about his clients. We’d talk about what people were looking for and go through potential matches. I’d even started matching people up. It was strange to admit but I felt like I had a sixth sense of who would work together and who wouldn’t. The algorithm that Ben’s pseudo little brother Jake had created was a huge help. It narrowed down the selection significantly. I not only enjoyed being a part of the beginning of a relationship instead of being at the end of it; I felt like I thrived on it. It gave me a sense of purpose that was greater than I’d ever experienced in my career.

After dinner, I would insist on doing the dishes, even though it was usually just our plates, utensils, and glasses. He was what I referred to as a clean-as-you-go cook. I appreciated his tidiness. It was surprisingly one of his hottest attributes, which was quite an accomplishment.

Never in my life had I associated doing dishes with sex appeal, but damn, the two went hand in hand for me now. From here on out in my life, I would only be with men who cleaned. The bar was set. I feared Ben had set the bar so high in all things, not just cleaning, that no other man would ever be able to reach it.

Once the ‘dishes’ were done, we would inevitably migrate to the couch and indulge in my guilty pleasure…reality TV. Until this point in my life, the only people who knew my affinity forThe Real Housewives,The Bachelor,Big Brother,Kardashians(both ‘The’ and ‘Keeping Up With’),Love Island, and, of course,The Great British Bake Offwere the Bliss sisters and Trevor. I guarded that information as fiercely as the PIN of my bank card. Those programs were my weakness, my Achilles’ heel. I was addicted. For some reason, watching other people’s dramas, even if they were produced, calmed me down.

I would have never pegged Ben for a reality TV watcher, but he’d seen more seasons ofThe Real Housewivesthan I had. I’d never watched Potomac or Dubai, but he had. He’d started watching because his teammates were always making references and inside jokes about the shows, claiming their wives forced them to watch. Once he started, he said he’d gotten hooked.

When the trash TV viewing portion of our night ended, it would be bedtime. Ben, Dolly and I would all head upstairs, he’d pause at my door and say goodnight. There would be a very intense, crackling moment where I’d think he was going to kiss me. He wouldn’t. Then I’d go inside, shut the door, and spend the night tossing and turning with the knowledge that he, and his dick, were just down the hall.

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