This Thing Called Love (9 page)

“Are you all right?” Alex asked sometime later. She handed Olivia a cup of chamomile tea, Trish’s favorite, and sat down next to Olivia on the couch.

“Considering I almost had sex with my ex, and he’s a sleazeball, yes and no.”

“Oh, honey.” She sat down beside her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I tried your cell, but you weren’t answering.”

“Trust me, I’m glad you came. I almost made the mistake of a lifetime.” Visions filled her head of a toddler-sized Annabelle opening a Christmas present from Uncle Brad and Aunt Kardashian while she looked on, gritting her teeth and praying for the holiday to be over. “Thank God you came.”

Olivia sipped the tea, took cleansing breaths.
It was okay. It wasn’t too late
. “He was so nice. He brought dinner, we chatted like old times . . .”

“It’s Brad turning on his charm.”

God, she’d been so stupid. She was almost thirty years old, yet she acted like a naïve teenager again, trusting him when she never, ever should have. “I never thought he’d stoop to that level.”

“Brad is a good man, Olivia. But this is going too far. Look, I do not expect you to come to the picnic tomorrow.”

The picnic
. All the Rushfords would be there. When she told Alex she’d made a date to have dinner with her dad, she’d invited him, too.

“No.” She was not about to drop her tail between her legs and skip. “I want to see everyone and I want to bring Annabelle.”

She’d show him she was competent to mother this baby, and she’d make him regret the day he ever tried to mess with her.

CHAPTER 10

“You broke the code of the Brotherhood,” Brad said as he sat on the picnic table, drinking a beer and watching Tom rotate chicken breasts on his new outdoor grill. He scanned the yard, with its big old trees dotting a green slope of grass that led down to the lake. His family was gathered on the big deck, enjoying cold drinks and talking. The midday sun was hot and sweet, perfect for the first Rushford picnic of the season.

But Olivia wasn’t there. She’d ignored his calls. She probably wouldn’t even show today.

Guilt pummeled him. He’d been an idiot to try to make her feel bad.

“Sometimes you’ve got to choose between brotherhood and marriage-hood.” Tom said as he stopped poking at the chicken and closed the grill lid.

“Sex was involved, wasn’t it?” Brad asked.

“Something like that.” Tom’s smile—and the candy pink hearts on his black apron—dulled the intimidation factor of his large frame.

“All I said was you were a little too eager to get to baby class. She figured out the rest.”

Alex stepped down from the sliding patio door and crossed the deck. Even on her day off she looked classy in red walking shorts and a navy polo. She tossed both of them a glare. “Here’s the chicken. And so help me Brad, I don’t want any trouble with Olivia today.”

Tom took the chicken from his wife and tapped her playfully on the derriere.

She swatted his hand away in mock annoyance. “Mind your manners—your grandma’s watching.” She honed in on Brad. “The whole family’s here, including Olivia’s dad. So best behavior, is that clear?”

Great.
Frank Marks would find a way to stick more burrs in his side, for sure. But he’d handle it. Brad saluted. “Aye, Captain.”

Alex put her hands on her hips. “If only you used that smarty-pants business brain of yours, you’d realize that helping Olivia would be a whole lot better than antagonizing her.”

“I’m not as much of an asshole as you think.” He actually didn’t care so much what Alex thought of him—but he did want to make things right with Olivia. That’s why he’d gone over there last night, before things got out of control. One look at her liquid chocolate eyes and her tight little ass and every caveman instinct he possessed came hurtling out, all reason tossed out the window. He should never have let that happen.

And it wouldn’t happen again. She was leaving soon and it would be foolish to start something. He would keep his distance, be cordial, and somehow live through this next week and a half without touching her again.

The sound of laughter made Brad turn his head. In the wide expanse of yard, someone had dragged out two beanbag-toss boards. His youngest brother Benjamin stooped over one of them, deep in discussion with a woman—no doubt his date. Usually Ben brought a different girlfriend to every picnic all summer long.

This one was a looker, too. Dark hair bound up in a thick ponytail. White shorts that showed off pretty, fit legs, and a bright pink top. They were gesturing animatedly to the game boards and laughing. The woman playfully pushed Ben and he pretended to topple over. As she bent to pick up a beanbag, Brad did a double take.

Olivia?
No way. But where was Annabelle? He craned his neck around to the deck behind him. Effie sat in an Adirondack chair, cooing to the baby.

Brad’s body tensed and grew rigid. His beer almost spilled. Ben had been no more than a skinny little punk when Olivia had left, but now he was a newly graduated doctor, not to mention a young single guy on the prowl.

He’d damn well better not be prowling after her.

“Okay, okay,” Ben said. “I’ll give you the point.”

“You will not,” Olivia countered. “I’ll
take
it because I earned it.”

“Your bag’s halfway off the board.”

“It’s halfway
on
the board. Rules say that’s one point.” They stood toe-to-toe, but the top of Olivia’s head only came up to Ben’s chest. “Listen, Squirt, rules are rules. On the board is on the board.”

Ben laughed. He’d grown a beard, making him look more mature than twenty-seven. “How can you call me Squirt when I’m six four now?”

Six four and a lady killer. The best looking of all the brothers. Before he could think, Brad jumped off the table and stalked across the yard.

Olivia put her hands on her hips in mock irritation. She looked pretty, and for the first time since she’d returned to town, she reminded Brad of the fresh-faced teenager she’d been, full of smiles and a lightheartedness that had clearly gone missing.

“Benjamin,” she said in a teasing tone, “I remember you when you were an annoying fifteen-year-old with a bad case of acne and a crush on Amanda Bynes. You used to watch
What I Like About You
in secret in the basement.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t got anything on me. I can tell a good story or two about you and my brother sneaking around—”

Brad cleared his throat. “I know how to figure out whose point it is.”

Surprise lit up Olivia’s face, replaced quickly by irritation.

He talked fast before she could tell him to get the hell out of Dodge. “Rules say if you can lift the board without the bag falling off, it counts as a point.” He walked over to the board and pulled it straight up. The bag stayed on the edge. “Olivia’s point,” he pronounced.

Olivia walked by him and whispered something as she bent down to pick up the bag. It sounded like “ass kiss.”

He grinned, probably from the sheer fact that she was
talking
to him. “I mean,” he said in a low voice, “that would be a big sacrifice, but if that’s what it takes so you’re not angry with me, so be it.”

She didn’t smile. “Try an apology.”

Ben was clueless as to anything out of the ordinary going on. “I demand a rematch.”

“I’m in on this round,” Brad said quickly.

Ben cupped his hands over his mouth and called out. “Alex, get your hiney over here. One short round so I can get my honor back.”

Alex called from the deck, “I’m glad you all are playing but somebody’s got to get this picnic together.”

“I’ll come help you.” Olivia moved to leave.

“Stay.” Ben held her back and yelled up to Alex, “One short round, then we’ll all help get the food out. Come on down here.”

Brad tugged at Olivia’s free arm. “We’ll go on this side. Girls against boys.” She tensed under his touch. “Okay?”

“Whatever,” she said, pulling her arm back.

Alex joined them, and she and Ben took turns tossing.

“Ben certainly grew up,” Olivia remarked.

“Nah. He’s the same pain in the ass as always,” Brad said.

“Has he got a girlfriend?”

“Why? You interested?” He knew that sounded snarky, but he couldn’t help it.

Olivia laughed. What was so funny about that?

“I just wondered why he and Meg never got together. She’s had a huge crush on him since forever.”

Brad picked up the bags. “Meg’s far too good for that rangy mutt.” Why was he so relieved she wasn’t interested in his baby brother? “You go first.”

Their fingers accidentally touched as she grabbed the bag. A sizzling snap of a pulse jolted up his arm. He wished they were alone. He’d drag her down into the sweet, dandelion-speckled lawn in the perfect sunshine of this day and make both of them forget all about loss and babies without parents and difficult decisions. Those few moments with her last night were brief, but enough to let him know how good it would be between them. Amazing. Just like it had been before.

What was she doing to him? A few minutes in her presence and his resolve shattered as easily as a thin coating of ice.

Olivia’s throw went wide. Someone let the dog out of the house, a big yellow lab mix that immediately bolted over to the bag and snatched it up in his mouth.

Olivia ran to the dog but he dodged her, staying just out of reach and chewing happily on the bag. Soon it would be ripped to shreds.

“Rex! Drop that bag right now. Pronto,” Alex commanded her dog-child.

The dog shook his head as if to say “no way,” sinking his teeth further into the bag, and ran off toward the woods.

“Smart dog.” Olivia giggled.

Brad ran over to the grill and lifted a piece of cooked chicken from a platter. “Come here, Rex. Come here, boy.”

Brad dangled the meat as he cajoled the dog. Rex swiftly dropped the mangled bag, trotted over and scarfed up the chicken. Brad swooped up the bag. “Well, I guess beanbag toss is over for the day.”

“Maybe permanently from the looks of it,” Olivia said. “Sorry about the bag.”

“We win.” Ben grinned and gave her ponytail a yank. An innocent gesture, but it made Brad fist his hand in a simmering fury.

Hands. Off. She’s. Mine.

Brad tried to walk with Olivia back up to the house but she was already walking with Ben, laughing and teasing like before.

“It didn’t take them long to reconnect. Just like old times,” Alex said.

Brad scowled. “Except my brother is a man now.”

Alex raised an elegant brow. “Does that disturb you?”

Before Brad could answer, a little girl with pigtails ran across the yard to Alex. She tapped on her mother’s leg impatiently. “Mommy, I want to see my new cousin. Hi, Uncy Brad.”

Brad bent down and scooped the little girl up in his arms. “Hey there, Rosie. I’m a little hungry. Can I have a snack?”

A cascade of giggles erupted from the child. “What kinda snack do you want?”

“Little girl snack!” Brad pretended to gnaw on her arm as she shrieked with laughter. Then he flipped her over and set her down on the ground.

“Uncy Brad, lift me up,” the four-year-old demanded, her arms hiked up. “I wanna go see Annybelle.”

Brad complied, and walked over to where Tom stood flipping burgers and talking with Olivia.

“. . . missed my curfew. Brad was on a date with you. I still remember him stalking up to my old jalopy with a flashlight and pulling me out of there by the neck. Scared the crap out of me. Not to mention my date.”

“And you never took anybody parking at the airport again after that,” Brad said.

Tom pointed the barbecue tongs at his brother and laughed. “Not after curfew, I didn’t.”

Annabelle was dressed in a little flowered one-piece thing. She even wore a hat on her head and little matching socks, although one was kicked halfway off. Brad had to admit, things looked under control. Even Olivia looked better. Still a little tired, but she had a trace of a tan now, and she wore a pair of pink and green dangly earrings that sparkled in the sun. Frivolous. Fun. A whole different side of her.

Olivia pushed Annabelle’s hat back so Rosie could see better. The little girl gently touched the baby’s arm and cast an admiring look.

“I wuv the baby, Auntie Liv. I wish you didn’t have to go back to New York.”

Olivia paused, clearly taken aback. “New York’s not so far, Rosie. You’ll see your cousin lots, don’t worry.”

Brad’s heart twisted. Would Annabelle get the chance to cavort around and play on the swing set with her cousins, join in the whiffle ball and dodgeball and water balloon tournaments? Or would she become a city girl, more accustomed to Central Park romps and dutiful, but uncomfortable, visits out to the country once or twice a year?

He set Rosie down to run off and find her little brothers.

“Speaking of Rushford siblings,” Olivia said, “I don’t see Samantha anywhere.”

“She’s in Boston working on a research project for the summer. She studies psychology.” Brad couldn’t keep the pride from his voice. At last, his sister appeared to be on the right track, being mentored by a renowned professor who was supervising her project. And she’d finally gotten those foolish ideas about art school out of her head.

Brad squatted next to Olivia’s lawn chair. Absently, he pushed Annabelle’s sock more securely onto her foot. “I need to talk to you about a few things. I—”

“Hey, Olivia, heard you had a meltdown in the grocery store the other day,” Benjamin teased.

Hands down, Brad would say he possessed the most irritating family in the world. “That was the baby, not Olivia, you dumbass.”

“Chill, bro, she knows I’m just teasing.”

Olivia kissed Annabelle’s forehead. Annabelle regarded her seriously with round saucer eyes. “We’re doing better now.”

“Can I talk to you?” Brad asked.

“Sure, sweetheart, any time,” Ben answered in a mocking voice only a sibling could master so well.

“Benjamin, get the hell out of here.”

The murderous look Brad impaled him with must have gotten the message across, because Ben threw up his hands and backed away. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“Would you two mind bringing out the side dishes?” Alex said, carrying a platter of meat. “They’re all on the kitchen table.”

“Sure, of course.” Olivia rose without waiting for him and walked across the deck to the house, handing Annabelle off to Effie again. Brad couldn’t help but notice her shapely behind filling out those white shorts. He let his gaze slide down her long, smooth legs. He bet they’d feel as silky as they looked. Each of her flip-flops had a big pink and white flower on it. Another glimpse of a whimsical side she usually hid so well.

He got to the screen door first and held it for her as they walked into the big white country kitchen.

A large old table was full of potato salad and strawberry-pretzel Jell-O and cut up vegetables. Apple pie and chocolate chip cookies. All the usual Rushford picnic favorites. Yet he had no appetite for food.

He grabbed her arm and spun her against the pantry door, then locked her in place with an arm on each side of her head. God, she was gorgeous—cheeks flushed, her hair all wild and breaking out of her ponytail. Before he could help himself, he tugged a curl and watched it spring free.

She shot him a wary look, but he could tell by her shallow breaths that she was just as affected as he was by their nearness. He looked down at her soft lips, one heartbeat away from being kissed. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “We’re not going there again.”

“I just want to talk. And I’m not touching you.” He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, but the strong desire coursed through him to kiss all the confusion out of her and replace it with pure, hot need. He’d only been touching her for seconds and his thinking was already getting muddled. He had to say what he needed to say right now.