VEGAS follows you home (47 page)

"I see."

"Have you and Hugh always been close?"

She finally settles back into her chair, relaxing.

"For the most part, yes. I was, of course, jealous of him as a child."

"Jealous?"

"He had my father and Heidi. Even at a young age, I knew my mother was different."

"Damon, I'm so sorry." Sympathy wrinkles her forehead and nose.

"It's fine. It's in the past." I smile, drinking from my water again.

By the time our food arrives, we are talking comfortably. We tell each other about where we went to school, first kisses, knowing what we wanted to do when we grew up, and things we didn't know about each other until tonight.

It's during dessert when I decide to confess a few things.

"I need to tell you a couple things."

I push away my dessert plate, resting my elbows on the table.

Olivia's eyes search my face as she settles back in her chair.

"What?" she asks, suspicion darkening her eyes.

"I want you to listen to what I'm about to say without getting angry. It wasn't her intention to upset you. She's just concerned—"

"She?"

Olivia's eyes narrow on me and for a moment, I think I see a hint of jealousy.

"Scarlett." I try to hide a grin.

Olivia's body relaxes.

"Her mother has visited your bakery for the upcoming wedding. You're making the cake for next weekend."

Olivia's eyes widen and her mouth pops open.

"Mrs. Manson…" she breathes. “That's Scarlett's mother, isn't it?"

She continues without giving me time to respond.

"I knew the last name sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it." She slouches back in her seat, shaking her head. "Why would I be upset about this?" Confusion wrinkles her brow.

"Scarlett knows your last interaction wasn't exactly cordial, so she didn't want to upset you further by coming into the bakery." I shrug. "I told her she was being crazy, but you know how you women are."

"Hey!" Olivia scolds, but a small smile gives away her amusement. "You're right, though. I wouldn't have minded her coming. In fact, it would've been nice to see her and apologize."

"Apologize?" I ask.

She nods. "Yes, I wasn't exactly nice that day."

Instead of commenting, I continue on.

"I'd like for you to consider going to the wedding with me next Friday and spending the weekend at my apartment."

"Spend the weekend?" she asks in a broken whisper.

"Yes, since we have the therapy exercise coming, I figure it's the perfect time. We will attend their wedding Friday evening, return to my apartment, and on Saturday, I'd like to show you the house I've purchased."

"You bought a house?"

"I purchased an under construction house. It's in the final stages." I nod.

She clears her throat.

"Where?" she asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

"McKees Rocks. It's a newer neighborhood. It will only be about twenty minutes, depending on traffic, from the bakery."

"Oh."

She picks up her water glass and takes a drink.

"I'd like for you to see it as well as the plans." I shrug. "So you can offer suggestions for child proofing and such."

Her brow rises inquiringly.

"Child proofing?"

"Olivia, I'll be completely honest."

Leaning forward, I place my forearms on the table and fold my hands together.

"I want you to see the house, offer your input, and make sure you like the house. It's my full intention for you to live in this house with me, our children to grow up in this house, and for you to share a bed with me every night."

Her lips part in surprise.

"You don't have to agree to anything now, but know I will do everything within my power to make it happen."

Her mouth shuts and she visibly swallows.

"Is that all?" she asks after recovering from my confession.

"No, there's one other thing I'd like to talk about. It's about the fertility clinic's mix up."

A twitch in her jaw betrays her nervousness.

"What about it?" she asks through her teeth.

"I'm having it further investigated. I’m not comfortable with all the unknowns. I just don't want you to be surprised about me looking into the situation more."

She exhales a breath.

"That makes sense. Thank you for telling me."

"So?"

I sit back in my chair once more.

"So, what?" She plays with the napkin on the table.

"Next weekend, will you accompany me to the wedding and spend the weekend?"

"I'll think about it," she answers quickly — too quickly.

"Olivia—"

"I said I'll think about it, Damon."

The drive back to Olivia's apartment is quiet. She keeps one hand on her stomach and the left on her leg. Before I can tell myself it's a bad idea, I reach out and take her hand in mine. She jolts, just a bit, in surprise, but doesn't pull her hand away.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

She sighs.

"I'm not upset, just thinking about everything."

Her head presses back against the leather seat, rolling to look out the window.

"Still, the night was going so well. I didn't mean to ruin the evening. I just wanted to be honest about things."

Lifting our joined hands, I kiss the back of hers. She gasps. I smile against her skin.

Olivia

The minute the door is closed, I lean back. The tingling sensation from his touch lingers on my hand. The sounds of a drumming heartbeat fills my ears. Eyes closed, I take a deep, calming breath.

"Must have been a good time." The sneer in Erik's voice alarms me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, straightening from the door.

Looking around, I find Mercedes seated on the couch. She puts a finger to her temple and swirls in the universal crazy motion.

"Apparently, Damon is bored with stalking you and has decided to follow me around."

"What are you talking about?" I furrow my brow and set my keys on the table next to me.

"I can't believe you're with him," he growls, loudly.

"Shh, Alex is in bed," Mercedes whispers harshly.

"You know what, Ced? You can go now." Erik keeps his eyes on me as he speaks.

"Who the hell—?"

"No, Erik, you can go," I say, cutting Mercedes off. I grab the doorknob and open the door.

"I patiently waited for almost a year. Almost a year, Olivia!" He steps close.

From the corner of my eye, Mercedes stands from the couch, putting her cellphone to her ear.

"Erik, I never made any promises. You chose to wait for something that I never — not once — said was going to happen for us."

I motion to the open door.

"You've become a whore, you know that?" he barks.

"Go to hell, Erik. I—"

Erik jerks backward out the door. Damon looms over him, his face red and chest heaving.

"What did you call her?" Damon growls, holding Erik by the neck of his shirt.

Erik stretches his neck to look past Damon. His angry eyes settle on mine.

"I can't believe you want a psycho! A stalker is who you can't seem to get enough of," he adds to the previous insult.

"Don't look at her." Damon moves, standing so I can't see Erik.

"Fuck you!" Erik shouts. "You can have the whore and—"

Erik's yelling is cut off by Damon's fist.

"Damon!" I shout, moving forward and placing my hand on his shoulder.

Erik moans, holding his hand over his nose and lip.

"You'll regret that."

Damon stiffens and prepares to strike again.

I grab his arm, stopping the next strike. Our eyes meet and the angry lines on his face smooth over. Turning to Erik, I narrow my eyes.

"Go home and don't come back. I don't want you around."

"I can't believe I wasted time waiting on a damn tease," he snarls through his swelling lip.

"Grow up. Name calling and temper tantrums are for children."

Guiding Damon inside, I slam the door in Erik's face and lock it.

I watch his shadow for a few minutes and wonder if I'll need to call the police. The whole time I've known him, he's never acted like this. For the short period of time we dated, he was laid back and easy going. When I ended our physical relationship and put more distance between us, wanting to just be friends, he understood and was cool about it. I don't know this Erik and I don't want to.

Damon's arms come around me, holding me to him. Each beat of his heart throbs against my chest. Soon, I swear our beats are synchronized.

"Are you alright?" I whisper against his chest.

"I'm sorry." His hushed apology confuses me.

"For what?" Pushing back, he allows me the room to look up at him.

"I didn't mean to get violent, but when he called you a—"

"He deserved the second punch, too. If you ask me," Mercedes chimes in and shrugs.

Damon chuckles before getting serious again.

"Do you want me to stay?"

I shake my head. "We'll be fine."

"I don't like the idea of you and Alex here alone."

Suddenly curious about him showing up at the apartment, I ask, "What made you turn around?"

"Mercedes," he responds. It’s then that I remember her getting on her phone.

"Oh."

"Are you sure you don't need—"

"It will be fine."

A mixture of emotions plays on his face and I can see he wants to argue, but he gives a light nod.

"Promise you'll call the police and then me if he shows up again." His arms tighten around me.

"I promise."

He kisses my forehead before saying his goodbye and leaving.

"You okay?" Mercedes’ hand touches my shoulder.

Turning, I step into her embrace. We hug for a moment before stepping back from each other.

"How was Alex tonight?" I ask through tears clogging my throat.

"Great, as usual." Mercedes sits on a stool at the kitchen island. "I tried to get rid of him, I swear. He just wouldn’t leave."

"It's not your fault."

I shrug and walk to the fridge, retrieving a bottle of water.

"What is the matter with him? I've never seen Erik act that way."

"I was thinking the same thing." I exhale, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"Well, I'm staying in the spare room. I don't trust that bastard. He may show up again."

I nod.

"Thanks."

"What are best friends for?" She grins, grabbing a small bouquet from the counter in front of her.

"What are those?"

"Garbage now." She slips from the stool and throws them in the trashcan. "Erik brought them when he showed up."

"Was Alex awake when he got here?"

She shakes her colorful head.

"No, he'd been asleep for about thirty minutes."

"Good," I sigh in relief.

"Come on." She motions for me to come with her to the hallway. "We have an early morning and you look worn out."

"I am pretty tired," I confirm, walking to the spare room with her, side by side.

"I hope that's Damon's work and not because of Erik's behavior." She nudges me with an elbow.

"Ced," I hiss and then laugh quietly.

"Shucks." She frowns with disappointment.

"Go to bed," I playfully order before going to my door.

"Yes, Mommy," she responds in a squeaky voice, entering the room.

For the next three days, the bakery is so busy, Mercedes recruits some culinary students for some temp work. While my crew and I work on the finer details and construction, they roll fondant, mix batters, and bake. We've used one of the students a couple of times before, so he helps with some of the baked goods for the front of the shop.

Damon has called every evening to check on Alex and me. I've also receive texts telling me about the baby's development. The first being
:
18 weeks.Our daughter's ears are now in position
.
And the second, sent the next day
:
You may start to feel her move. Please let me know if you do.

Damon has been working late because of a new client. They're demanding his presence, so he hasn’t been around very much. The longer he's away, the lonelier I feel.

I've never been one to feel lonely. In fact, I used to enjoy quiet alone time. I'd given excuses to people so many times, even my own father, so I could just stay home with Alex. Now, I get a fluttering sensation at the sound of Damon's voice. Disappointment stabs my chest when I realize he's not going to come over.

Today, day four, I've buried myself in work. Mrs. Manson, Scarlett's mother, is scheduled to come in for a final session regarding the wedding cake and I'm waiting for her to arrive.

"Olivia?"

The soft voice catches my attention. I look over the two-tiered chocolate cake to Scarlett and her mother standing on the other side of my table, looking nervous.

"Scarlett." I smile.

Coming around the table, I wipe my hands on my
I bake so I don't kill people
apron.

Taking in her perfectly put together blouse, slacks, high heels, and silk scarf, I stop myself from hugging her.

"How are you?"

"Good." She smiles, steps forward, and hugs me.

"You're going to get icing all over you."

"It's fine." She squeezes before pulling away and then focuses on my stomach. "Look at you," she coos, her hands hovering over my stomach. "Can I?"

I don't really like being treated like a Buddha, but I nod my approval anyway.

Her hands press and rub.

"Do you know what you're having?" She looks up from my stomach.

"Damon hasn't told you?" I furrow my brows, surprised he hasn't shared the news.

"No, he told me to ask you." She blushes. "I'm so sorry about how things—"

"You don't need to apologize. We were all in a tense and uncomfortable situation. Plus, I was a tad hormonal at the time."

"Still, I want to say how sorry I am. Heidi felt sick after everything."

"She shouldn't," I assure her. "Please tell her everything is forgiven, if you both can forgive me as well."

With a nod, she exhales, all the tension melting from her body.

"Let's go sit down." I motion for the women to follow me.

With the increased activity in the storefront as of late, Mercedes set up a small cubicle area with a table and four chairs at the far end of the kitchen. It's located close enough to the storefront entrance and far enough from the baking noises.

After taking seats, I grab the clipboard from the row hanging on the wall. This is another of Mercedes updates. The customers visiting each had a clipboard she hung on an even line of wall hooks, in alphabetical order.

"How are you feeling? Everything is good?"

"I'm feeling well. Tired mostly, but overall,
she
is doing just fine."

A grin spreads over Scarlett's face.

"It's a girl!" she squeals in delight.

I nod, laughing.

"Boys are wonderful, but a little girl is a precious gift." Mrs. Manson grins kindly.

"Ah, Momma. I love you, too." Scarlett looks to her.

"I was talking about your sister."