Page 68 of Tangled in Vows

Why have I turned into such an idiot around him lately?

“Well, should we go inside then to see if that’snicetoo?”

He’s definitely mocking me now, but I fight the grin that wants to form. “Sure.”

He whistles again, and Stormy charges toward us with all the excitement of a kid walking through Disneyland.

I wave my hand toward the backyard. “She can stay out here if you don’t want her to get anything dirty inside.”

“Olivia, look at me.”

This time, I comply.

His gaze bores into mine. “I don’t give a fuck if she gets anything dirty. That’s what cleaning supplies are for.”

Of course, he’d say something that perfect. Damn him.

“Okay.” I swallow the lump in my throat and face the back of the property again. “Up to you. You said it’s fenced in, so it’s safe for her, right?”

He doesn’t immediately reply, so I glance at him. The look he’s giving me is odd, like he’s trying to solve a riddle I just told him.

My impatient brain gets the best of me, and I ask, “What?”

He blinks, and there’s something almost soft about how he takes me in.

He swallows. “You trust me to protect both of you?”

“I do.” The answer shoots out of my mouth, and I realize I mean it. While I am at odds with him about some things, I’ve never questioned his ability to keep me safe. Not then or now. Back then, he was the only person I felt secure with. Guarded and whole.

When he left, he ripped that security blanket off too, and I’m not sure I’ve ever fully trusted anyone again. At least not in the way I trusted Holden. Not wholeheartedly.

“Thank you,” he says the words quietly, almost reverently.

More warmth swirls in my stomach, and for a second, I allow myself to bask in the feeling, although I know I shouldn’t. Whatgood does it do me to feel any comfort for the man who’s turned me into a broken version of myself?

I was forced to pick up all the pieces and glue them back together as best as possible, but I’ve never been the same. Yes, I’m a lot more independent now. More in control. More confident and disciplined. But I also don’t laugh as much, can’t entirely relax around most people, and generally pretend I’m fine.

The therapist I saw briefly mentioned something about defense mechanisms. But without them, I wouldn’t be where I am now. The options were to hide in my apartment and cry myself to sleep every night or to pull myself off the floor and pretend I had this. For my well-being and my career, I had to choose the latter.

“I miss the person I used to be back then.” Apparently, it’s Olivia-spills-the-beans day. At least I clamp my mouth shut before I add “the person I was with you” although my brain wants to. I’m unsure why I felt compelled to say this out loud, but now that it’s hanging between us, it feels kind of right.

Maybe you should do more things that feel right.

“I missyou.”

His words hit me like a tidal wave. Knocking me over, shaking me up, and spitting me out, all disoriented and a little nauseated.

“There you kids are.”

I turn toward the new voice, surprised to see Archer walking toward us from the backyard. Did he just come from the cottage?

Holden groans. Loudly.

Archer chuckles. “I guess you haven’t gotten to the part where you tell her I’m your roommate?”

I tilt my head. “Roommate?”

“Well, not exactly roommate, I guess. It’s Holden’s house, but he lets me stay out there.” Archer points toward the smallcottage and pouts as if deep in thought. “Property mates? Although, I often come up to the house so Holden won’t die of loneliness.” He grins widely. “But now he’s got you. His wife and much better half.”

---