Page 37 of Sweet Escape
“Put that on my resume. Wilder Hayes: Single dad, full-time farrier, part-time ranch hand, weirdly thoughtful.”
“Nice ass and looks good in a backward baseball cap,” she murmurs, barely audible if not for my proximity.
“You think I have a nice ass?”
“You know you do.”
“Feeling’s mutual, Cupcake.” I make a show of bending backward to check her out, and she giggles.
When we stop beside my truck, I cage her against the passenger door, one arm resting over her head. “It’s even nicer when you’re wearing my shirt with nothing else underneath.”
Her minty fresh breath fans over my beard as I whisper into her ear, and her chest brushes against mine with each stuttered inhale, letting me know my words hit their intended target. She’s just as affected by this thing between us as I am, even after all those weeks apart.
It would take barely an inch to close the distance and seal my mouth over hers, and it takes all of my resolve to resist. I want Olivia more than I’d like to admit, but there are already far too many complications in my life to add a new relationship to the mix, even if sheishaving my baby. I reluctantly step away. “We better get going. Mama’s cooking up a feast, and we’re already running late.”
When I pull onto the road, Liv’s demeanor shifts. I can’t tell whether she wants to jump my bones or leap out of the truck. The closer we get to the ranch, the more it’s looking like option two.
Her panicked voice fills the silence, one worst-case scenario after another in quick succession. “What if they don’t like me? What if they think I did this on purpose? Oh God. What if I get sick at the table?”
“I’ll be right beside you the whole time. If you feel like you need to be sick, squeeze my thigh and I’ll get you out of there as fast as I can.”
“What if?—”
“No more what ifs. We’re gonna go in there, have some good food, share our happy news, then answer whatever questions my nosy ass family asks… within reason.” I place my hand palm up on the console, offering her the option to take it.
She hesitates for a moment and weaves her fingers between mine.
Before long, I’m turning through the ranch gate onto the gravel drive, rolling down the window to wave at some of the ranch hands as I pass. I park near the big house and gesture for Olivia to stay put, then round my truck to help her out just as my dad comes riding up on Copper. Olivia’s grip on my hand tightens, and her posture grows rigid as he approaches. “Mornin’ son. Mama didn’t tell me you’d be bringin’ company to brunch.”
“She doesn’t know. Pops, this is Olivia.”
He practically beams at her when she lifts her hand in a tentative wave. “I remember. Taught this one how to ride when she was just a little thing. Gotta say… never thought I’d see the day when little Livie Sullivan would buy my son at auction. Surely you aren’t using your family brunch as a date? I taught you better than that, Wilder Hayes.”
Olivia giggles, visibly relaxing as the Russell Hayes charm wins her over—works every damn time.
“Very funny, Pops,” I say. “We’ll explain when we get inside. Jax and Griff here yet?”
“Everyone’s waitin’ in the kitchen. I’ll just turn this old boy out and be right in.”
Without a second thought, I grab Olivia by the hand and tug her along with me up the cobblestone path to the big house, only releasing her long enough to hold open the door and usher her inside.
As soon as the storm door slams behind us, a tiny ball of energy comes rushing into the foyer, with a milk mustache on her face and her hair still in the two uneven pigtails I attempted this morning. I crouch down just in time to catch her, wrapping her in a tight hug. Emmy rests her head between my neck and shoulder, cradling her sippy cup in the crook of her arm as she stares at Olivia.
“Hey, Pretty Girl,” Olivia says. “Remember me?”
Emmy nods against my chest, but she doesn’t speak. She takes a little while to open up to people, but I know she’ll be smitten with Olivia in no time. How could she not be? Liv is a ray of sunshine even on her worst day.
“Hungry, Emmy girl?” I ask.
Emmy nods again.
“Let’s go see what Gigi’s cookin’ up.”
The big house is curated country charm, exactly what you’d expect from Evelyn Hayes. Much like the rest of the house, the foyer is bright and airy, with white walls and warm wood accents. A fresh bouquet of flowers sits on the entry table, changed out every week with new blooms from Mama’s greenhouse.
There’s a row of boots lined up beneath a long wooden bench that gets smaller as you go on down the line, ending in the cutest pair of toddler boots you’ve ever seen.
With a hand on the dip of her waist, I lead Olivia into the kitchen where Griffin is hovering over the plate of bacon, ready to steal a strip.
