Page 113 of Undeniable

“Olivia deserves the best,” Harrison said, grabbing something from a drawer. Clearly, he didn’t think that was me.But then he added, “Buying her dream home would be a good place to start.”

I didn’t disagree. I just didn’t know where to find her dream home, considering what we’d seen thus far.

Harrison slid a business card across the table to me. It was black with the name “Black Realty” printed on it in gold foil along with the contact details for Chrishell Owens.Huh. Okay.

“Call Chrishell. She works for the top residential real estate brokerage in town. She often knows about properties before they go on the market. And she’s a tough negotiator.”

I nodded, picking up the card and turning it over. “Thank you.”

Maybe Harrison wasn’t as opposed to me as I’d feared. I only hoped I could deliver on my promise to make Olivia’s dreams come true.

* * *

Five monthslater

“Goody?”

“Yeah,” she called, clearly not paying me any attention. The timer for the cookies chimed a second later.

“Olivia,” I practically growled, struggling to keep the bite from my tone. I was getting impatient, even if I tried not to let it show. I’d been biding my time for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment. But I couldn’t take it anymore. If I didn’t ask her to be my wife, I was going to fucking burst.

“Just a sec. I’m taking the cookies out of the oven.”

I watched as she bent over, reaching into the oven to extract the pan. I wasn’t sure which I was salivating for more—her or the cookies. No, definitely her. Even after all this time together, I didn’t think I’d ever get my fill.

“What’s up?” She placed the oven mitts on the counter.

“I got your stack ready.”There.That was better. Calmer. More nonchalant.

She furrowed her brow. Always so fucking adorable. “What stack?”

She busied herself in the kitchen, washing the bowl. Drying it. She was killing me.Killingme.

If she had any idea…

“You know—the one for your latest bookstagram challenge. Come on.” I tugged on her hand, trying not to be obvious. “I’ll show you.”

I led her down the hall toward our bedroom. In our new house—our home.

We’d moved in a few weeks ago. It had taken a while to find the perfect property, but we finally had, thanks to Chrishell. And, by extension, Harrison for recommending the Realtor.

Our new house was relatively close to both our offices and her dad’s house. And though it was a little big for now, I had a feeling we’d grow into it with time.

For now, we were both focused on our jobs. Focused on spending time with each other and enjoying our family and friends. Reading books. Exploring new restaurants together.

Olivia was still loving her job at Harlow & Phillips, especially since she’d recently received a promotion. The position was a perfect fit, and she finally got the chance to show off her talents. I was so incredibly proud of her, even if it had her pulling all kinds of crazy hours. I respected her drive, and I vowed to support her in all things.

I’d convinced Zeke to move out to California. We’d joined an established team and worked with a steady stream of celebrities and high-wealth individuals. I missed Decker and some of the guys, but I’d found that same feeling of family that I’d had in New York.

I was also learning more about the residential side of security. I enjoyed being part of a movement team—the challenges and the camaraderie. But it meant too much time away from Olivia. And, at times, felt like too big a risk.

This was a different season of life, and I had someone else’s needs to consider other than my own. For now, I was bouncing between movement and residential teams, and I’d never felt more fulfilled. Work wasn’t my sole priority anymore. And even though I loved my job, it was no longer what gave my life meaning.

My relationships gave my life meaning and richness. With Lucy, my friends, and even Harrison. It had taken some time, but eventually, he seemed to have come around. I hadn’t asked his permission to marry Olivia—it wasn’t his decision to make. But I hoped he’d give us his blessing.

I’d continued my sessions with Tatum, and he’d helped me navigate my dad’s illness and death. In the end, I’d decided not to visit my father. But I’d kept his letter, telling myself I’d open it if the timing ever felt right.

And then there was Olivia. The love of my life. My future wife. And I hoped—one day—the mother of my children.

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