Page 31 of Stuffing His Stocking

“Don’t you dare take that tone with me,” he threatens. “I’ll tell Carol about this little affair of yours. Does she know you’re sleeping with her daughter? She always thought of you as a son, so I have no doubt she’ll be just as disgusted as I am.”

Would she, though?

The thought gives me pause. Because not only do I want to preserve our recently repaired relationship, I don’t want to causeproblems for her and her daughter. But no matter what, I’m not letting Liv go.

“And don’t forget I control your trust fund, Dylan. You want that final payment when you turn thirty? Then you’ll end this nonsense immediately.”

My blood boils at his ultimatum, and I want to throw my phone across the room. “I don’t care about the money. I won’t walk away from her.”

As my father continues his tirade, ranting and raving through the line, there’s a knock at the door. I open it and exhale a shallow sigh of relief. Liv is standing on the other side, her smile fading as she takes in my distress. My father is still yelling when I hang up the phone without uttering another word.

She steps inside, concern etched on her beautiful face. “What’s wrong?”

I take a deep breath, dreading the conversation we’re about to have.What if this is too much for her? What if I lose her before we’ve even really begun?

My heart threatens to pound out of my chest. “We need to talk.”

12

LIV

My hand pauses as I reach for the knob of Dylan’s front door. The sound of his voice, tense and agitated, bellows through the wood. I hesitate, wondering if he’s arguing with someone. But there’s no one else here, so he must be on the phone.

I raise my fist to knock, a bit apprehensive about what’s waiting for me on the other side, while still excited to see him again. It’s barely been two hours since he dropped me off, but I missed him more than I expected to.

The door swings open to reveal his worried face. “What’s wrong?” I ask as he motions me inside at the same time he disconnects his call. His posture is stiff but his chest rises and falls rapidly.

He rakes his fingers through his sandy-blond hair. “We need to talk.”

My stomach drops at those four words. They never lead anywhere good.

Dylan guides me to the sofa, then explains his father’s threats and ultimatums. Anger now boils inside me toward Bruce. How could he do this to his own son?

“I don’t know what to do,” Dylan admits with his clenched fists resting on his thighs. I lay a hand over his, soothingly rubbing his forearm with the other. “But I’ll tell you what I want to do.”

“What’s that?” I ask, feeling his body heat rise as we sit side-by-side.

“Drive over to his penthouse and punch him in the face,” Dylan snarls.

I let out a small gasp. “I know you don’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I fucking do.” He turns his body toward mine and gazes deeply into my eyes. “I just got you. No way in fucking hell am I letting you go.”

“I love you,” I blurt without hesitation.

His eyes go wide—and truthfully, so do mine—but before I can backtrack, he captures my lips in a passionate kiss. “I love you too,” he whispers against my mouth. Then he kisses me until we’re both moaning and slightly breathless.

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it, Liv. I wanted to tell you tonight.” His forehead rests against mine as he clutches my hands in his. “I know this seems fast, but it’s really not. Not after the way I felt when I first met you. It wasn’t the right time for us back then, but it’s our time now. And I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted.” He pulls back to look at me. “Please tell me I’m not alone in this.”

His gaze searches mine, and I smile. “You’re not. I love you.”

“Say it again.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I love you, Dylan Kane.”

“I love you, Olivia Spencer.” He presses his lips against mine for several moments, and I relish our connection.

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