Page 51 of Tangled in Vows

“Have you talked to her about moving?”

I nod. “I’ve mentioned it.”

“Good. Maybe ask her again.” He tightens his grip on me, but I welcome the slight discomfort to pull me all the way out of this darkness I just fell into.

His stare is intense. “And see if she might have a clue about what’s going on. But remember, this is not a game, Hold. If you want her, work for it. Tell her what happened and beg for her forgiveness if necessary. But don’t play with her.”

At that, I slap his hands away. “I’m not playing with her.”

He chuckles. “I know you’re not doing it on purpose. Even a blind man would know you have the hots for your wife.”

This time, I roll my eyes. “I thought you said it’s not a game.”

His grin is almost evil. “Not for you and your songbird. You and I will never be done with the games.”

I walk to the mini fridge and grab some water. “I cannot wait until you find someone to kick the smug right out of you. Trust me, I will enjoy every second of it.”

He mumbles something that sounds like, “I wish,” but when I ask him what he said, he only shrugs and says, “We’ll see.”

The words are filled with his usual cockiness, but his smile is looking a bit sadder.

Loud cheers filter through the closed office door, and my feet move of their own accord.

Archer does the same, pressing a hand against the door before I can open it. “Please talk to her, okay? Maybe she’ll surprise you by not running for the hills the way you think she will. You won’t know until you give her a chance.”

My only response is a grunt. This is why I will never drink tequila again with Archer. Apparently, I spill my deepest secrets.

But as usual, he enjoys pushing me and continues, “I’ll go over her team’s background again. There’s no sure sign this is an inside job, but we can’t rule it out. Maybe something Olivia knows will help shed some light on the situation.”

My patience is dwindling quickly, and I grind my teeth. Archer must hear it because he backs off and opens the door for us.

Together, we head back to the large common room where most of the teens are lounging on oversized bean bags, the awe over having Olivia in their midst clear on their mesmerized faces.

Olivia still stands next to the piano, and when she spots us, it’s impossible to miss how the corners of her mouth lift. Is the smile intentional or just muscle memory?

Her gaze shifts away, and she finishes the upbeat song. Evie takes her hands off the piano keys to clap with a massive smile. At first, I think she just claps for Olivia, but everyone else also continues clapping and cheering, and I realize it’s because Monica is joining the women.

The three of them speak quietly together until Evie returns to the piano, her fingers nimbly flying over the keys, with first Olivia singing and then Monica chiming in too. Their voices harmonize beautifully, like they were meant to sing together and have done so for a while.

“Hot damn, I’ve got goosebumps.” Archer holds out his arm as proof.

We listen to the trio perform a few songs, and it doesn’t escape my notice that Olivia lets Monica sing more and more on her own with each song.

The eighteen-year-old is entirely in her element, and no one dares to make a sound. She sings her heart out with her eyes closed and one hand on the side of the piano.

I still remember the day she walked into the lobby last year, her face and half of her body bloody and bruised after her father had one of his many drunken anger spells. The doctor we use said Monica was lucky to get out when she did. The broken ribs and other injuries she suffered weren’t the first ones, nor would they have probably been the last had she not found us.

Some parents deserve a second chance. Some don’t. And I want to save as many of those teenagers who need help to survive. Thankfully, we have the funds to keep building more and more Fox Hideouts.

We stay for a few more hours, having dinner with the twenty-three teens we currently house here. Although we get regular reports from the staff, we try to check in with as many of them as possible to know what’s going on and what’s needed. Since it’s easy for things to fall through the cracks, the more people who keep an eye on them, the better.

Phoenix joins us halfway through dinner, ready to take Evie back home.

Olivia looks tired but happy on our drive back to the penthouse. Once we’re in the elevator, she faces me. “I want to jump in the shower first, but afterward, can we talk?”

“Sure.”

Her calm demeanor should assure me, right?

---