Page 15 of Finally Home

While Hollie looks ahead as we walk through the restaurant, I keep my gaze on her. When Brett looks back one more time, I’m tempted to ask him what the fuck his problem is. My hand on Hollie’s tightens slightly, and I realize there’s no way I’mmaking it the entire week without hitting something or, more importantly, someone.

Chapter 8

Hollie

Oliver and I follow my brother and Brett into the hotel restaurant to a large table in the back. Oliver never lets my hand go, and I notice the way his thumb continues to draw circles along the top of my hand in a soothing motion. I’m not sure if it’s settling my nerves or his.

The closer we get to the table, the more my nerves ramp up, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to run like Forrest Gump and never stop, but I don’t think I’d make it very far in these heels.

When we reach the table, Topher takes the open seat beside Scarlett. My mother and father each sit at opposite ends of the table. That leaves two open seats on the left side of the table and one between my brother and father.

No one attempts to get up, although Scarlett looks up and smiles at me when I approach. That’s at least puts her well abovethe rest of my family. I wish she could see in my eyes, though, for her to run and get out while she still can. I feel bad for her, but I guess she’s an adult and made her choice to be with my brother, although if I had the option to pick this family—well, I wouldn’t.

Oliver steps ahead of me and pulls out the chair to the right of my father, holding his hand out for me to sit. I smile and whisper, “Thank you,” as I take the seat, and he pushes my chair in. When I turn to face the table, I find Brett sitting across from me with a giant scowl on his face. Well, this should be fun.

“Now that everyone is finally here, we can order.” My father flags the server down, and I rush to find the menu. Thank God they start with my father and move clockwise, leaving Ollie and me last to order. Thankfully, I had browsed the online menu earlier this week, hoping it wasn’t a restaurant that changed their menu constantly, assuming we would have a meal here.

I don’t miss how my brother orders for Scarlett. A salad at that. I swear I’ve never had more pride in ordering carbs. I’ll eat them for both of us.

After placing our orders, silence overtakes the table again.

“Holland, since you took it upon yourself to bring a guest that’s not family to dinner, the least you could do is introduce him,” my father grunts.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming at him that technically Brett is not family. But I’m not stupid enough to not know that Brett is the second son my father wished he had.

Oliver places his hand on my thigh.

“I’m sorry, sir. Where are my manners? I’m Oliver Mosby. Thank you very much for letting me join this weekend.”

My father just nods. “It’s not like Holland gave us much of a choice.”Just as my mother had said.

I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that dinner passes by quickly and we can be back in the safety of our hotel room.

The server returns with our drinks, and I take a decent-sized swig of the wine. Ollie’s words from the other night replay in my mind.“I can see why that might make someone drink.”

“So, Oliver, what is it you do for a living?” Because of course, to Topher Armstrong, Jr.,you’re only defined by your career.

But Oliver doesn’t even drop an ounce of sweat under my father’s interrogation. He takes a sip of his drink and turns his body toward him, still keeping his left hand on my thigh.

“I actually own a bar restaurant back home in Elmhurst with my brother, Archer. He runs the back of the house and the administrative side, while I’m in charge of the front, and I bartend.”

Of course, at that moment, I’m bringing my glass of wine to my lips, and I choke on the small amount of liquid.How the hell did it not come up that he’s an owner?

“You okay?” Ollie leans in, turning his focus from my father to me.

I can only nod while my mother makes a comment under her breath. I’m so focused on Oliver’s proximity that I can’t make out what she says, but it’s a dig at his job or a dig at me.

Throughout dinner, Oliver is constantly touching me—his hand on my thigh, his arm on the back of my chair with his fingers dancing across my shoulder, but my favorite one was when he sliced a piece of steak on his plate and held his fork out for me to try. It melted on my tongue like butter. When I offered Ollie a bit of my pasta, his eyes never left mine as his lips wrapped around the fork.Did someone turn up the heat in here?This man is a damn excellent actor because I’m struggling to believe that this isn’t real between us right now.

If nothing else, we have good company with each other and stomachs full of delicious food.

When he leans back, there is a clanging sound across from me. I turn to find Brett picking his fork back up, this time witha grip so tight his knuckles are white. Topher leans over to say something to him, but his attention never falls from me.

My eyes drift to Scarlett, who I’m not even sure my brother has said over ten words to since sitting down. She just pushes the food on her plate around instead of eating it.

Conversation eventually leads to tomorrow’s festivities with the engagement party. It’s so elaborate that I can only imagine how over-the-top the wedding and reception itself will be. Not that I plan to get married one day, but if I did, I would want just something simple. A small ceremony, maybe just my future husband, me, and a witness or two. I don’t need all the crazy events and shit because all that matters to me is that I’m spending my life with the person I love.

“I heard Maverick Campbell is bringing the new wife tomorrow.”

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