VEGAS follows you home (43 page)

For a moment, they stare at one another in a silent showdown. My groan pulls their eyes to me before my father walks away.

Turning, I face Damon.

"Try to behave."

"Me?" He gives me an incredulous look. "Your father approached me, not the other way around."

"Damon," I sigh, "if it was your daughter, what would you do?"

The harsh lines on his face soften.

"I apologize for creating a scene."

"Let's just not have another one, at least for today, okay?" I force a smile.

He nods. I step away, wincing from my ankle.

"What happened to your ankle?" Damon asks, his hand grasping my arm.

"I just twisted it a little earlier today." I shrug.

Before I can continue to walk away, he lifts me into his arms and carries me to a chair.

Sitting me down, he kneels to the floor. Taking my ankle, he props it on his knee. I press my hands to the skirt of my dress to make sure I'm not flashing everyone.

"It's swollen." He gives me an intense look. "You should have ice on this."

"I'm fine." I try to pull my foot away.

His long fingers wrap around and firmly hold it in place. My ankles have never been an erogenous spot, but the feel of his bare hands against my skin makes me shiver. I can feel goose bumps over by body and my nipples suddenly feel sensitive against my bra.

"Olivia, you shouldn't be walking on this."

I roll my eyes.

"Damn it," he growls low. "Stay here."

Releasing my ankle, he gently sets my foot on the floor.

Without further explanation, he walks away.

It only takes a couple of minutes for him to return with a white cotton towel in hand. Pulling a chair over, I hear the crunch of ice as he sits in front of me. Taking my ankle into his lap, he presses the towel to it. The cold makes me flinch, but it’s a welcome distraction from the way his fingers and presence heat my body. Mentally, I curse the fact that he's given me something else to add to the appreciation list.

Damon

Olivia moves around the tiled eating area smiling and talking to the guests. I can't take my eyes off her. Her slight limp concerns me, but she's adamant about being a good host and won't sit with the ice pack any longer. The smile she gives her family and close friends makes me feel like a voyeur.

I'm a bystander to her happiness and I don't know how to become the active participant I desire to be. Our therapy session last week further opened my eyes, allowing me to fully realize the reasons for the strong as iron wall she puts up. Where I've mourned my loss and want to live with love in my life again, she’s still holding on to her ghosts. Far from angelic, I'm a man used to having what he desires at his fingertips. However, I know the hurt she carries. The invisible scars left by such pain will always be there. Now, I must be something I'm not used to being — a patient man. At least while she learns how to heal and live with the scars.

Erik arrives, interrupting my internal musings. The look of surprise and uncertainty makes me uneasy. Standing, I slowly, but deliberately, make my way toward them.

"Rik!" Alex calls from his grandfather's lap. A bright smile lights up his little face and my jealousy spikes.

"Hey there, little man." Erik picks Alex up into his arms, hugging him. "Happy birthday, my man!"

"I didn't expect you—"

"Like I'd miss his birthday." Erik doesn't look at Olivia. "He's like a son to me."

"But he's not your son," I interject, crossing my arms over my chest.

Erik turns cold eyes on me.

"Surprised to see you here." One side of his mouth curls in disgust.

"Why would I miss my son's birthday?" I tilt my head just slightly.

"Maybe because you aren't truly family," Erik snaps.

"Dad!" Alex calls, reaching for me.

"You sure about that?" I ask, taking my son from his arms.

"I've known him since he was a baby. You just appeared out of—"

"Had I known about my son, I would've been here. I suggest you leave
my family
for me to take care of and worry about."

"Erik—"

"No, Olivia. He just shows up tossing paternity around like it's an excuse for being an overbearing asshole." Taking his eyes from me, he grasps Olivia by her upper arms. "You don't have to put up with it, Liv. We can get a life without him back."

When he pulls her toward him, I reach one hand out, pushing him back.

"Back off," I growl low, not wanting to worry Alex.

"Both of you need to stop," Olivia scolds.

"Hey, buddy, come here." Erik reaches for Alex and I pull him away.

"I'm a part of their life. Get used to it," he snaps.

Extending one arm, I stop Erik two feet away from Olivia and Alex. When he swats my arm away, I move another step in front of Olivia. Keeping narrowed eyes on him, I hand Alex back to Olivia. She takes him, settling him to her hip.

"You're pregnant," Erik chokes.

"Perhaps you should go now," I suggest.

"You fucked him?" Erik snarls low.

"That's quite enough." Olivia's father steps in front of Erik. "Come on, son."

Putting an arm around Erik's shoulders, her father leads him away from the watching eyes of the crowd.

Turning, I cup Olivia's face.

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" She blinks a couple times.

"My temper gets the better of me."

"I understand," she says on a sigh.

"I don't trust him."

Brushing my thumb over her cheek, I stare at her lips.

"It's fine. He just needs to calm down."

Sliding my gaze up from her mouth, our eyes lock. There is a flash of desire before she blinks it away.

"Dad." Alex grabs my sleeve, pulling.

"Yes." Removing my hand from Olivia's face, I bring Alex back into my arms.

"Ball time." He claps, smiling.

"Okay."

With a desire-conveying glance, Olivia's cheeks flush a bit. Turning away, I take my son to the ball pit.

Alex's birthday continues without any further confrontations or arguments. In fact, Erik disappeared from the party altogether. Something to which I can say definitely pleased me. I know desperation and I can see it all over him. It makes you do things you wouldn't normally do and can push a person to extremes. The wild look in Erik's eyes at seeing Olivia pregnant worries me.

I sit in Dr. Livingston's waiting area and go over the appreciation list. I'm going over it a second time when Olivia enters.

She looks beautiful in a light blue puffy coat and scarf. The color compliments her bright red hair and porcelain skin. Her cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold wind outside. Her eyes meet mine as she unbuttons the coat. This time, her face flushes from warmth. She turns, undoing the rest of the buttons and hanging the coat up on one of the wall hooks.

When she faces me once more, it's like my heart bursts into a million bubbles. She wears a light gray long-sleeved shirt. It's long enough to come over her hips and, while it's not second skin tight, it fits her well enough to see her protruding abdomen. The black scarf around her neck coordinates with the tight black cotton pants and knee-high boots. She is breathtaking.

"I thought I'd be late." She smiles, taking a seat across from me.

"Why?" I ask once I'm able to speak again.

"The bus was running behind." She shrugs, pulling her hair over her left shoulder.

She starts twisting the hair into a braid and secures it at the bottom with a black band she had around her wrist. Then, she fans herself.

"Warm?" I ask, a small smile on my lips.

"A little." She grins. "That coat may have been a bad idea." She nods toward the puffy coat.

Before I can continue the civil conversation, Dr. Livingston calls us into her office.

"Good afternoon." She stands behind her desk, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun.

We exchange pleasantries before getting straight down to business.

"You both should have a list for me today, correct?" She looks between us.

"Yes," I answer a bit too quickly.

"Yeah," Olivia responds, a bit more hesitant.

"Okay, who would like to go first?" The doctor settles back in her chair.

"Go first?" There is a hint of panic in Olivia's question. Her body tenses on the couch next to me.

"I will." My offer instantly relaxes Olivia.

"Please, when you're ready." Dr. Livingston smiles warmly.

Clearing my throat, I begin.

"I like how you take care of Alex. And—"

"Sorry," Dr. Livingston holds up a finger, "you have started off very well, but I'd like for you to start with 'I appreciate how' and then use the other’s name and continue."

With a nod, I straighten my posture and start once more.

"I appreciate how much Olivia cares for Alex. He is a happy, healthy, and very smart boy. I appreciate Olivia's strong independence and work ethic. I can even appreciate her need stay so strong she no longer knows how to be vulnerable." I inhale deeply before blowing out long and drawn air. "I understand this so well."

There is a small shudder in my chest, but I continue, this time turning my head to Olivia.

"I like the way you smell of sweet buttery vanilla."

She shivers. It's a slight movement, but my greedy eyes catch the motion. With a small smile, I keep my focus on her.

"I most appreciate you trying, really trying."

She looks at me from the corner of her eye. I hold them for a moment, but she blinks, interrupting the moment. We turn our attention back to the doctor.

"Very good." She nods, making notes on the pad in front of her.

Her head comes up from her writing, her eyes focusing on Olivia.

"Olivia?"

"How can I compete with that?" she blurts.

"It's not a competition," Dr. Livingston assures.

"But…" she pauses, looking at me quickly before turning back to the doctor, "but I…I don't have five things."

"Relax." The doctor smiles. "Take a breath and just give us what you do have."

I watch Olivia close her eyes, swallow a deep breath, and then, with determination, she opens her mouth.

"I appreciate how good he…I mean, Damon, is with Alex. I realize now that Alex was missing something two parents can provide a child. I am very thankful he now has it. I appreciate that Damon is accepting and cares about this baby."

Her hand goes to the small bump that seems larger each time I see her.

"And I appreciate Damon's willingness to help with anything he can. I know he's genuine in the way he cares."

The room falls silent. Not an uncomfortable silence, but anxious.

"Can I ask why you think it was so difficult to come up with five?" Dr. Livingston folds her hands together on her desk.