“Slide in,” I muttered, stepping to the side so she could move past me. She hesitated a moment longer, clearly looking as apprehensive as I felt, but we didn’t need to make a big deal out of a seating arrangement. “This is the only open table.”
Olivia’s eyes scanned the diner in confirmation before flicking back to mine. She straightened her shoulders and offered me a polite smile as she glided past me. I held my breath as I followed suit, keeping as much space between us as possible. It wasn’t enough, though. Her sweet perfume somehow mixed perfectly with the scent of pancakes and syrup, making my mouth water for something other than food.
“Good morning, you four!” Lucy said, dropping four menus on the turquoise table top. “Did you girls enjoy the game? Heard there was quite an upset.”
We followed Harper and Charlie’s gaze to the table where that Ashley girl was sitting with her parents. She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest and was glowering at her stack of pancakes as though they’d kicked her puppy.
Harper’s shoulders fell, and Lucy clapped her on the shoulder. “Don’t let her get you down, sweetie. It’s a competitive sport. And you were clearly the better player today.”
My daughter tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Lucy tutted. “None of thatma’amnonsense. How many times do I have to tell you that? Now, what’re we having to drink?”
“Two chocolate milkshakes and two waters for us,” Olivia said, winking at Charlie.
“Ooh, Dad! Can I have a chocolate milkshake, too?” Harper asked, widening her green eyes. When my kid was as cute as that, how could I say no?
“Make that four,” I said. Fuck it. Why shouldn’t we indulge a little bit?
“Four shakes and four waters coming right up!” Lucy dashed off to put our drinks in, and the girls immediately jumped back into their planning, leaving Olivia and me to sit in silence.
I should say something—anything, really—but nothing came to mind. I’d never been much of a talker to begin with, and that hadn’t changed as I’d gotten older. I saved my words and my breath for shit that mattered and didn’t feel the need to yap just for the sake of it.
Olivia, though, did not share my opinion apparently. I could feel her knee bouncing anxiously beneath the table. She was making the whole damn seat vibrate with her fidgeting.Without thinking, I reached out my hand and braced it on her knee before giving it a squeeze.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why did I do that? And why was I still doing it?
Olivia turned to me, wincing as she took in my stern expression. “Sorry. Nervous habit.”
“Don’t see what there is to be nervous about,” I said.
Still, I kept my hand in place.
She laughed. “Well, this is a bit awkward, isn’t it? I mean, we’re just sitting here in silence.”
“It’s not silent. The girls are talking right there, and we’re surrounded by about forty people having their own conversations.”
“But we’re not.”
“What do you want to talk about? The weather? Oh yeah, it looks really nice out today. Heard there’s gonna be a storm next weekend, though,” I said sarcastically. “How is that any better?”
She blew out a breath. “Guess it isn’t. Especially not if you’re gonna be an ass about it.”
“Honey, being an ass is my default.” There it went again. The same slip of the tongue as earlier. I hadn’t meant to say it, and I definitely hadn’t meant to be a repeat offender. At least this had a bit more bite to it than before.
Olivia scanned my face. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but I didn’t like it. That woman had an uncanny ability to slide beneath my skin. I was defenseless against her. It pissed me off.
Yet my hand was still on her goddamn knee.
“Well, it doesn’t have to be,” she said, shifting in her seat. The movement caused her legs to close, trapping my hand right between her thighs. Her skin was hot, even through the fabric. It was enough to snap me out of whatever stupor I was in.
I pulled back, quickly placing my hand in my lap to cover the situation taking place in my jeans. For the second time in aweek, Olivia Hart had me thinking about everything I shouldn’t be.
I liked sex just as much as the next person, but it’d never been a necessity for me. It wasn’t something I thought about every minute of every day. During college, I dated a few women before meeting the one who’d eventually become my wife. It wasn’t like I was inexperienced or anything, but I wasn’t what she wanted.
Sarah always said I wasn’t affectionate enough. That I didn’t show her the right amount of physical attention. So, I tried. I tried to be conscious of every move, every touch, just to try and make her happy. It was never enough.
So, color me fucking shocked when I had to stroke myself multiple times in the shower two nights ago because I couldn’t get the infuriating woman in front of me out of my head. When I realized what I’d done, I panicked.