Page 36 of Sweet Escape
Wilder: Everything’s fine, dipshit. Just be at the big house at 11am.
“Do I look okay?” Olivia runs her hands over a pair of light wash jeans that hug every delectable curve of her body. She’s wearing some kind of ruffled top that nips in at her waist and flares out at the bottom, and there’s a pink ribbon tied around her low, wavy ponytail.
I wait for the click of the seatbelt, momentarily taken aback by how perfect she looks at my side. “You’re beautiful. Just breathe. My family is going to love you.”
I cast her a sidelong glance before returning my attention to the road. She props her elbow up on the console, her cheek resting against her palm, and one hand absentmindedly rubbing circles over her lower belly. It’s hard not to stare at her.
“I’ve actually met your family before,” she says. “Well… kind of.”
“Yeah?”
“Remember when I told you my dad let me take riding lessons as a kid?”
I think back over the night in the hotel, bypassing all the best parts, recalling a brief conversation about me being a cowboy. I really should’ve put two and two together.
“That was at Whispering Oaks? My dad would’ve been in charge of the lessons back then. Have we met before?”
“I… don’t think so. I might’ve seen you around, but I was only six when I started, so I wouldn’t remember you even if we had.”
I try to picture a six-year-old version of Olivia, wondering if our baby will look anything like her, andhopingthey do.
I chuckle softly. “I would’ve been a fourteen-year-old little shit at the time, so I’m kinda glad you don’t remember me back then. Probably wouldn’t have been a great first impression.”
She snorts. “As if stealing my seat on the plane was any better.”
“You weren’t complaining when I was fucking you senseless that same night.”
Her cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink, but the color leeches from her face, and a wave of concern washes over me.
“Liv? Are you okay?”
She curls an arm around her stomach and lurches forward. “Gonna be sick. Pull over,” she says in a strangled voice.
I check our surroundings before carefully pulling into the nearest parking lot. She darts out of the truck and into the bushes on the side of a row of buildings. When I approach, she reaches back to stop me. “Don’t. You donotneed to see this.”
“A little morning sickness never scared me, Liv. This ain’t my first rodeo.”
She opens her mouth to speak but lurches forward again, the sound of her retching filling the silence between us.
Ignoring her pleas, I step up behind her, skating my hand up and down her spine in a soothing pattern. “Feeling better?”
“Really glad I had my hair tied back,” she says. “Could you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Run inside and get some mouthwash. Don’t really wanna roll up to family brunch smelling like I’ve been throwing up in the parking lot.”
I hadn’t even glanced around long enough to realize where we parked, but we’re just one door down from the pharmacy at the end of Main Street. “I’ll be right back.”
It takes less than two minutes for me to dash inside, locate the mouthwash, and head back out to find Liv in the same place I left her. I hand her the bag and take a step back, giving her some privacy. She steps into view a few minutes later, looking much better than she did when she bolted from the vehicle.
“Ready to go?”I ask.
She nods. “Did you buy out their entire stock?” She hands back the bag with five extra travel-size bottles of mouthwash.
“Thought it might be a good idea to keep some on hand for emergencies.”
“That’s… weirdly thoughtful,” she says.
