Page 71 of Love in Fine Print

BEN

I sippedmy third cup of coffee as I walked to the bay window and checked outside for the moving van, which was scheduled to be here at ten with Olivia’s things. It was nine-forty-five, and I’d been checking the front of the house every few minutes for the past hour.

This morning, I’d woken up alone in the suite at the Ritz Carlton at five after only a two-hour nap because we’d stayed up until three. Before I even opened my eyes, I sensed that Olivia was gone. I wasn’t sure how my body knew, but it did. When I sat up in bed, I saw a note on the pillow beside me from her saying that she’d see me later today.

I was disappointed that we hadn’t shared the morning together, even though I knew that was ridiculous. Last night was more than I ever could have dreamed of and I was beyond grateful for it. Still, it would have been nice to make love to her one more time.

Dolly whined at my feet as her tail thudded on the hardwood flooring. She usually napped at this time, but she must have sensed my anxiousness. She definitely knew something was going on.

“Olivia’s coming,” I told her for the tenth time since I’d gotten home from taking Jake to the airport. His flight had left at eight. “She’s moving in today.”

As I stood and waited, flashes of the night before played in my head. All morning, they’d consumed my thoughts. I’d made love to Olivia against the wall, in the shower, and once more in bed before she fell asleep in my arms. Each time was better than the time before. In the span of one night, I’d learned the way her body responded to my dominance, to my gentleness, to my dirty talk, to my lips, my tongue, my hands, my fingers, and my cock.

Olivia was so different than I’d expected her to be. Her telling me that she wanted it rough, and loving it when I took charge, had turned me on more than I’d ever thought was possible. The more I thought about it, though, it made sense. In her life, she was at the top of her game in a very cutthroat industry. In her job, she held people's futures, their quality of life, in her hands. She had to be in total control at all times.

I remembered the spark I’d noticed in her eyes when I’d read aloud what Trevor had written in her bio. Now I knew she did want a man to hold the door and then slap her ass when she walked through it. She did want a man who would take charge and be dominant.

Apparently, Trevor had been right.

I was happy that I’d been that man, even if it was only for one night. But now that I had, the thought of another man stepping into that role had me feeling things I had no business feeling. It had me feeling possessive and territorial.

The thought of any other man touching her made me want to hit my chest like a caveman. It made me feel angry and aggressive like I was a caged animal. It was the same way I used to feel before a big game. I’d used that energy to fuel myself to be focused and win on the field. But that was my professionallife. In my personal life, I wasn’t exactly sure how that could translate.

Olivia wasn’t a game to be won. She was my wife. For the next three-hundred and sixty-four days, anyway, even if only on paper.

The truck pulled up and I headed outside to meet it.

“Good morning!” Miss B shouted out as I stepped out through the screen door. She was rocking on her porch and PB and J were both curled up at her feet. “How is the newlywed feeling this morning?”

“Good!”

“Boy, that wedding sure was beautiful!”

I was glad that Miss B had enjoyed the ceremony. I’d been worried it would be too much for her, but she seemed to be doing well. Julia had texted last night after she dropped Miss B off, letting me know that she was home and resting.

“Pearl would have loved it!” Miss B exclaimed.

I nodded. “She would have.”

Or at least I hoped she would have. Of course, if she were still here the wedding wouldn’t have even taken place. I wouldn’t have had to be married if I hadn’t inherited Ever After. It was strange how certain events caused a domino effect in a person’s life. The butterfly effect was never something I’d given much thought to, but it was real. My life was proof of it.

Three men climbed out of the moving truck, and behind them, Olivia’s white Range Rover pulled up and parked. Trevor got out of the driver’s side, and Olivia appeared from the passenger's side.

Today, she wore a Golden State Warriors ball cap, a gray Stanford sweatshirt, and blue jeans. She looked…soft and young. Without makeup on, she looked about a decade younger than she was. If someone told me that she’d just graduated from college, I wouldn’t have blinked an eye.

“Hello, Mr. Whitaker. How are you this fine morning?” Trevor asked.

“Good, doing good.” I nodded as nerves swirled in my stomach.

It was strange, I hadn’t felt this sort of anxiety and nervousness since my first few years in the NFL. The last five years I’d played, I’d sort of outgrown them. But seeing my wife today, after what we’d shared the night before, had me feeling all out of sorts.

I wondered what she was thinking about the night before. Had she played it over a thousand times in her head like I had in mine? Was she wishing we were still alone in our suite like I was?

“Being married looks good on you,” Trevor commented with a look of appreciation in his eyes.

“Thanks.” I was more than happy to be the recipient of his approval because Olivia trusted him more than anyone else in this world. Knowing that he would have good things to say about me was the best PR spin I could ever get.

As Olivia approached me, she lifted her head and a tiny grin pulled at the corner of her full lips. “Hi.”

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