VEGAS follows you home (27 page)

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Authors: Sadie Grubor

BOOK: VEGAS follows you home
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"I'm so sorry." She flushes from embarrassment and takes a step forward.

"Don't move." Throwing my hands out before me, I pin her with one look. "Stay there," I order and she obeys.

I turn, slip on the shoes I took off, and come back to the kitchen. Olivia still stands, unmoving. The glass crunches under the soles of my shoes as I step to her and lift her over my shoulder.

She squeals and fists the material on the back of my shirt.

After setting her down in a glass free zone, I move to the closet and retrieve the broom.

"Let me." She steps toward me. "It's my mess."

Waving her off, I sweep the glass into a pile. I reach for the dustpan, but Olivia grabs it first and crouches to help.

"Your feet," I object before noticing she slipped on shoes.

"All covered," she responds, emptying the glass into the garbage.

After returning the broom and dustpan, she looks up with concern in her eyes.

"I hope the glass wasn't valuable or of some sentimental value." She licks her lips in a nervous action. It doesn't help to quell the naughty thoughts swirling in my mind today.

Leaning against the counter, I grin.

"Olivia, until last week, I didn't even have glasses in the cabinet."

Her mouth pops open, closes, and then she laughs.

"In fact, just about everything was stocked right before you and Alex arrived. What were you trying to get?"

"The pitcher." She points to the highest shelf.

Reaching up, I hand it to her.

"Thanks." Blushing, she steps around me to a bowl of lemons I hadn't noticed.

"What are you making?"

"Lemonade."

I watch as she slices, squeezes, and tosses the juiced pieces into the sink. She continues by adding water, sugar, and stirs.

"What?" she asks in an annoyed sigh.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are watching me? It's making me self-conscious."

"I dunno." I shrug. "I was just watching."

Once she pours herself a drink, she returns to the living room and I walk back to my office.

 

After Alex wakes from his nap and eats a small snack, we play cars in the living room. The moment is quiet, casual, and, for me, so surreal. Crayons, cars, cartoons, and blocks are now more satisfying than anything else in life.

"What would you like for dinner?" I ask, my head buried in the three-foot coloring book Alex and I are working on.

When she doesn't respond, I look up and catch her in deep thought.

"Olivia?"

She blinks and focuses on me.

"I can cook something," she offers, standing from the floor and walking to the kitchen.

"I didn't mean you have to cook. We can call for delivery or go—"

"I can cook," she cuts me off with pots and pans banging.

Not wanting to argue this point, I return to coloring.

 

The evening remains quiet and casual. We follow dinner with a Disney movie, the three of us relaxing with Alex in the middle. With my arm stretched over the back of the couch, I can almost encompass both of them. When Alex falls asleep, Olivia carries him up to bed. As I follow, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it."

I open the door and one of the doormen greets me, holding multiple bags in his arms.

"Miss Manson had these sent for Mrs. Knyght. May I bring them in?"

Stepping aside, I allow him to bring the bags in and set them to the floor. He quickly exits with a nod and a 'good evening'.

I stare at the multiple bags.
Just how much Yankees clothing does Scarlet think Olivia needs?

"What is all that?" Olivia's question draws my eyes away from the mound of packages.

"I'm pretty sure it's your Yankees gear."

Reaching down, I pick the bags from the floor.

"All of this?" she asks, astonished.

"I'll carry them to the bedroom so you can go through them."

"I can take them," she reaches out.

Avoiding her hands, I step around and ascend the stairs.

"Thank you," she practically whispers when I set them on the bed.

"You're welcome." I quickly step to her and kiss the side of her head.

Before exiting the room, I turn back to her. "I'll be in my office if you need anything."

"Okay." She doesn't look up as she pulls clothing from a bag.

I hesitate a moment longer, watching her take shirts, shorts, a jacket, and other accessories from the bags. She mumbles about buying so much and how it probably cost a fortune. Keeping my amusement to myself, I descend to my office.

 

Friday morning, I wake alone in bed to loud screaming from downstairs. Jumping from the bed, I rush toward the loud voices.

"What the hell is going on?" I look between Maria, my housekeeper, to an annoyed Olivia.

"Please tell her who we are." Olivia gives me a pleading look.

"Maria," I grin and walk toward her, "this is my wife and son."

Her brow furrows. "Señor?"

"Yes, Maria." I move, standing next to Olivia and putting my arm around her. "This is my wife, Olivia, and our son, Alex."

Maria studies the three of us for a brief moment before relaxing her defensive stance.

Nodding my thanks in her direction, I turn to Olivia.

"Olivia, this is Maria, my housekeeper."

As the situation sinks in, I fight not to laugh.

"You're so intent on telling everyone about us, how about you make sure your cleaning lady doesn't think I'm robbing you with a baby on my hip?" She snorts and then laughs.

My laughter erupts and Alex even joins in with forced chuckles. As she goes about her weekly routine, Maria mumbles, "Loco.”

We laugh harder.

 

After the unusual wake-up call, we eat a quick breakfast before getting ready for the day ahead of us. Olivia and Alex go upstairs to dress while I work in my office and Maria completes her three hours. Maria’s departure makes me aware of the time. Needing to get ready for the day, I step away from the work waiting on my desk.

Stepping around the staircase, I see Alex sitting in his high chair with a wooden spoon and large white bowl. Walking closer to the open kitchen, I notice Olivia swaying around.

"Dad," Alex blurts, causing Olivia to spin around. "Bake cake," he says, his proud smile outlined in chocolate.

"I see that, buddy."

"Actually, we're making cupcakes," Olivia clarifies in an unusually shy manner before giving a small shrug. "I guess I can only stop baking for so long before the desire resurfaces."

"I'm not complaining." I smile wide. "This place has never smelled so amazing."

"Yum," Alex hums.

I move toward my chocolate covered son and kiss his head.

"I'm going to take a shower."

Olivia, having just placed a pan in the oven, turns at my statement.

"We should probably get going in about an hour. Preferably before Scarlett begins nagging me."

She smiles so warmly, my chest tingles and my arms ache to reach for her.

"Okay." She nods and waves a hand over the messy counter. "I'll clean this up and get Alex and myself ready to go."

 

Around noon, we pull into Heidi and my father's driveway. Heidi eagerly pushes their butler out of her way so she can scoop Alex out of Olivia's arms.

"There's my super handsome baby boy," she coos, placing kisses on his cheeks.

Giggling, he pushes her face away.

"Idee!" he exclaims.

We follow the two of them into the house. Once Heidi has convinced Olivia everything will be fine, we leave Alex and his things for the overnight stay.

 

Back in the car and on our way to the stadium, we fight the New York traffic. I figure this time alone is the perfect opportunity to ask some of the questions I have for her.

"I don't want to upset you, but I'd really like to talk while we are alone."

"Okay," she says, sounding hesitant.

"I'd like to know about your decision to have Alex."

Her head snaps in my direction. "No."

"No?" I furrow my brow, keeping my eyes on traffic.

"No," she affirms. "We are going to talk about why I had to hear about Rebecca and DJ from Scarlett and Hugh." From the corner of my eye, I see her cross her arms over her chest, her eyes planted firmly on me.

"They shouldn't have—"

"Well, they did and I want the whole story, Damon. All of it," she demands.

When I stay silent, her arms drop from her chest.

"Did they tell me everything or is there more?" she asks, her voice softer than before.

This is my chance, the chance to come clean.

"They told you what happened, and…"

"And what, Damon?" she presses.

"And it's the whole story." The words leave my mouth, my stomach flips, and instantly I want to take them back.

"Okay," she exhales, turning to look quietly out the window.

 

The rest of the drive is uncomfortably quiet. It's not until I'm leading her toward the company box that I obtain the courage I need.

"Olivia," I say, stopping us at the door to the box. "I need to—"

"You're here!" Scarlett exclaims, drawing Olivia's attention. She scans Olivia in her t-shirt, hooded jacket, and jeans. "Look at you all Yanked out! The colors are amazing on you." She winks, grabbing Olivia's hand and pulling her inside. "The drinks are over here."

"Oh, so it's going to be one of those games today?" I raise a brow, teasing Scarlett.

"Shush it, Patty! Olivia and I are going to have girl time. Go play with Hugh." She pulls Olivia away.

"You follow baseball, right?"

Olivia nods. "Yeah. My father is a big fan and we spend a lot of time watching together."

"Great," Scarlett sighs out. "It's so nice to be around someone who gets it for a change."

They huddle together next to the café style table lined with an assortment of drinks.

As I take a step toward Olivia, Hugh walks in front of me, holding up a beer.

"I'd leave them be." He glances toward Scarlett and Olivia as they move to the seating area. "Scarlett will verbally attack with more than your middle name if you don’t."

Nodding my understanding, I raise the import beer to him.

"Thank you." I put the bottle to my lips.

"It's the least I can do since my fiancé will be monopolizing your…wife." He gives his head a small shake. "I'm still not used to that."

The two of us move to a set of cushioned chairs with a small table between. We're discussing the Proneau resolution when Scarlett interrupts us from across the room.

"Damon Knyght, do you have any idea who you married?"

Scarlett is twisted around on the couch, looking over the back, her wide eyes fixed on me.

"I'm pretty sure her name is Olivia." I smile, taking a pull from my beer.

From over the glass bottle, I watch Scarlett leap up and stalk toward me. She takes my beer, smacks me on the arm, and puts the bottle back on the table.

Hugh chuckles and I give him a quick glare. He covers his smile and looks adoringly at his fiancé.

"You are married to Olivia Harlow, smartass." She plants her hands on her hips.

Glancing around Scarlett, I look at a red-faced Olivia.

"Okay," I respond, still not understanding Scarlett's behavior.

"Harlow, Damon! As in, Harlow Cakes. Why didn't you tell me?"

"What does the bakery have to do with—?”

She smacks me again, adding a huff this time.

"I let the first one slide. I won't hesitate to retaliate if you hit me again. This is your only warning."

We stare at each other for a moment.

"Damon, she's famous. She makes some of the most amazing cakes. She's been featured in wedding magazines and on TV shows," Scarlett informs with a slight slur.

Glancing around Scarlett to Olivia, I mouth, “Really?”

She nods her crimson stained face.

"It's really not enough to make me famous, like Scarlett is insinuating."

Scarlett looks back at Olivia. "Don't be modest. Your work is quite beautiful. At least, what I've seen."

With a small shrug, I look back to Scarlett. "Her social stature isn't exactly my main attraction." I wiggle my brows.

"Behave yourself, Damon," Scarlett playfully scolds, glancing back toward Olivia. "You're lucky she didn't hear you," Scarlett whispers, "but I could always tell her all of the improper ideas you have." Grinning wide, she walks back to the couch and seats herself next to Olivia.

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