Page 34 of His Greatest Treasure

I wait for him to look at us again, but he just goes inside without a word, my pink-and-yellow towel looped around his neck. A sigh puffs out of me. Alright then. It’s good to know that he doesn’t feel any different after our Jell-O fight either. He’s still the same old grumpy Oliver Bateman.

Nova wraps her small arms around me from the side and squeezes. “Thanks, Mom.”

“For inviting him for dinner?”

A jerky, excited nod. “He’s cool. I like him.”

“I’m glad you think so, kiddo. Let’s go get cleaned up, okay? Then I’ll put in an order for pizza.”

“Pizza? Can I get ham and pineapple?”

“Sure.” Even if just the smell of the fruit on the pizza will make me want to retch. “Anything else?”

“Chicken wings!”

“Deal. How about you go inside and hop in the shower while we wait?”

She doesn’t argue. My girl loves showers and baths. She has an entire basket in the bathroom full of bubble baths and shower gels. Pampered already, she’s my twin in far more than just one way.

Once we’re inside and she’s ducked into the bathroom, I putthe order in for pizza and start anxious cleaning. The vacuum hums loudly as I run it over the exact same spot in the living room carpet ten times, needing it to be as clean as possible. Hell, we’re not even dirty people to begin with. I keep a tidy, dust- and crumble-free house at all times. But as I spiral, I find invisible dust on the coffee table and a make-believe stain on the grey couch cushion that I cover with a throw pillow.

I wasn’t expecting Oliver the day he stormed up my stairs and helped himself to a view of my bedroom, but he wasn’t looking then. Tonight, I just know he will be. That smirking, Jell-O-tossing douche will be holding a damn magnifying glass over every inch of this place in the hopes of finding something to call me out for.

He isn’t going to have the chance. Magnifying glass or not.

By the time Nova cracks open the bathroom door and steps out in her tiger-striped robe and her hair wrapped in a loose towel, I’m already waiting to take my turn scrubbing clean.

“You got between your fingers and behind your ears, right?” I ask before she pads into her room.

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll be out in a couple of minutes. If you need me?—”

“Tell you. I know, Mom.”

“Yes, tell me.” I blow out a breath and nod to myself before slipping inside the hot room and shutting the door behind me.

Ten minutes later, I’m tugging a sweatshirt down over my stomach when the doorbell rings. I don’t remember the last time I could spend more than ten minutes showering and getting dressed without worrying about Nova. Actually, I can.

She wasn’t born yet.

Seven used to sound like such a blessed number when I was struggling with a newborn and a toddler, but I still worry too much. Drive myself out of my mind, more like. So much could go wrong in ten minutes when I’m not around. Showers are loud, and I don’t trust myself to hear her over the pelt of water as much as I should.

It’s all worth it in the end. Every time I see her smile or feel her arms around me in a tight Nova hug, all the stress and fear fades to the background. The love I have for her isn’t something made on this earth. It comes from somewhere else. A place pure and bright.

“Can I get the door?” she asks, sneaking past me, moving like her ass is on fire.

I laugh lightly. “It looks like you’re already going to.”

Feet tucked into a pair of fuzzy frog slippers, she slides the rest of the way down the hall with her hands held out like she’s mid-yoga pose. As she fumbles for the doorknob to gain balance, her excitement is potent.

“Hello!” she shouts after the door is opened to reveal Oliver.

I take one look at him and curse the way my lower stomach tightens. Is it common practice for men to show up to a woman’s house with damp, messy hair and black joggers that cup their tree-trunk thighs? Even though his shirt is baggy, it doesn’t do me any favours. I’ve seen him bare-chested and therefore knowexactlywhat he’s hiding beneath the moss-green material. Row upon row of abs that deserve to be photographed instead of hidden away.

My eyes could cross with pleasure at the sight of his biceps cording and straining in the shirt sleeves, as if even sizing up in shirts is still not enough to house those beasts. He could pick me up and toss me over those girthy shoulders, and I’d purr,Thank you, Lieutenant.

Lieutenant. Fuck’s sake. The overconfident ass with hisdoes it impress youshit. Yeah, actually. It does. But I’ll never admit it. Not even having my teeth yanked out one at a time would reveal the secrets I have that involve him. I’ll take them to the grave if I have to if it means saving myself that embarrassment.

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