Page 27 of Her Silver Fox Firefighters
“How long?” she asks.
“Two years,” I say, drawing her attention.
“That is a long time for someone to hold a grudge,” she mumbles.
And just like that, the tension that Dax, Beck, and I have been harboring since yesterday fizzles into a puff of smoke. I worried that Jocelyn’s jabs might cause Olivia to pull away from us, and while she has been quieter than usual, she doesn’t seem to want to get off this train.
“You think Jocelyn is holding a grudge?” I ask, waiting for Olivia to fill in some much-needed blanks.
She turns to look at me, her lips stretching into a soft, delicious smile. “I know I’m on the curvy side, Leo. I’ve had this body all my life, and I’ve learned to love it. That means I also know how to let those mean-girl comments slide right past me. No woman who is truly happy with herself would have wasted her time making comments about my appearance.”
“You’re hitting the nail on the head there,” Beck laughs.
“Jocelyn is miserable. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure her out,” Olivia replies. “But none of that is my fault, and it’s not yours either. If she can’t get over you guys, how does that concern me?”
“I do need to reiterate something, though,” Dax says, moving in closer. His proximity draws a raspy breath from her throat. It serves to add more fuel to the fire already burningwithin me. “What happened between Jocelyn and us is long over, Olivia.”
“I heard you the first time,” she says.
“Good,” I chime in. I’m also determined to make sure Jocelyn doesn’t feel tempted to try that kind of garbage again. We’ve been gentlemen up to this point, but where Olivia’s well-being is concerned, Dax, Beck, and I seem to be on the same page—ruthless against anybody who tries to hurt her. “You continue to amaze me, you know that?”
“With what?”
“Just being precisely who you are.”
I lean in and plant a soft kiss on her cheek. A moment passes in sizzling silence. Olivia remains still, my lips unable to part from her skin. She knows I can’t stop there.
I kiss her lips next. Olivia surrenders without hesitation, melting into my arms as I devour her. Dax takes over for a moment, and I watch her soften against him while Beck finishes the wine in his glass, eyes almost black with deep wanting.
“We should take this upstairs,” Dax says, “in the privacy of my bedroom.”
“Absolutely,” she agrees.
I brace myself for the kind of sleepless night I won’t regret tomorrow because I’ll be buried so deep in Olivia, I’ll lose and find myself again in the process.
8
OLIVIA
“Damn it,” I mutter as I hang up. It’s the third time I’ve tried calling Chloe, only to get her voicemail.
For three days now, I’ve been texting and calling to no avail. To say that I’m worried would be an understatement. Chloe always calls or texts back, even when she’s busy.
The diner is packed at this hour, and Melinda’s working hard to keep the flow seamless between the kitchen and our tables while I handle the drinks and the pastries.
“You’re not at the top of your game today,” Melinda tells me at one point.
I’m halfway through refilling the pastry display. I turn to look at her. “What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, no, honey, it’s not that,” she laughs lightly as she pushes a cart loaded with dirty dishes through the kitchen’s swinging door. “It’s just that you’re usually a lot chattier with our customers, and it’s reflecting in your tip jar I’m afraid.”
I follow her gaze and realize she’s right. Having been so worried about Chloe, I’ve paid less attention to our clients, and the tip jar is only a third of what it would normally look like on a busy morning like this.
“Is everything okay?” Melinda asks.
“I’m worried about my best friend. I can’t get ahold of her.” I load the last of the pies into the display, briefly hypnotized by the smell of butter pastry wrapped around layers of cherry compote, pecan cream, roasted pistachios, and vanilla custard. “She never falls off the radar like this.”
“Maybe she’s just busy. Are you talking about your friend Chloe? Mrs. Jackson’s granddaughter?”
