Page 80 of Holiday Hopefuls
Oliver dips his chin, eyes never leaving mine. “That.”
All the flipperiest nuggets.
Jutting out my lower lip, I shake my head. “Just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with, um, everything while you were here, is all.” I clear my throat with a little too much vigor. “I know this is all a lot to take in.”
“Do you?” He lifts a brow.
“I mean, I’m guessing. But I’ve always been a good guesser.”
“I’ll admit, it was quite the surprise to hear that your familyownsthis place,” he nods.
Running a hand down my face, I groan. “I was gonna tell you, honestly. I just … other than when I’m actually with my family, I live so far outside of that world. I know what everyone thinks about us.”
“That’s not entirely true.”
“Your dad called them wolves,” I point out, “and he’s not wrong.”
Oliver snorts, pushing off from the dresser that’s been holding him upright. A few long-legged strides later and the man is only a breath away. Tender eyes roam my face, asking for permission. My brief nod is all he needs before wrapping those strong arms around me.
Resting his chin on top of my head, I breathe in the scent that is purely Oliver.
“Callie,” he murmurs, lips pressing into my hair, “I don’t want you to worry about my comfort here. If you’re around, then I’m perfectly at home. I’m here to make sure you feel safe, to make sure there’s someone here you can count on, no matter what.” Leaning away, curious blue eyes pin me in place. “You know that, right?”
Swallowing, I nod. “Oliver?”
“Yeah, baby?”
His instance on the pet names even when we’re alone brings a smile to my face. “Will it be a problem that I prefer to sleep in the nude?”
Oliver’s entire body freezes. I don’t even think I can feel his heart beating. The man finally blinks, a rush of blood flooding every visible inch of skin. I’ve never seen someone look like a tomato so quickly. “Uh-uh, that may, um, complicate?—”
Bursting into laughter, I move out of his hold. “Just kidding!” Through squinted eyes, I can just make out the relief written all over his face. “Don’t worry, I definitely look like I’m hanging out on the frozen tundra when I sleep.”
Oliver swallows. “I mean, I want you to be comfortable … ” If he was wearing a turtleneck, he’d be pulling at the collar right about now.
Placing a hand on his arm, I grin up at the most wonderful man. “Thanks, but I’m good in my eight hundred layers of fleece.” I use a time check as an excuse to look away from Oliver’s residual shock.
Otherwise, I’d be tempted to kiss it away.
“Surely the others are here by now. I’m starving.” Stepping around him, I head toward the door. A quick look back shows that only his gaze has moved, watching my every step. “Ready to go act like we’re halfway down the aisle?”
Piercing blue eyes snap to mine. “You have no idea.”
15
Callie
When we make it downstairs, Connie and Chris are walking through the front door. Mom and Dad greet them with open arms and kisses to the temple. They’re asked about the drive, how the meetings went and are informed of dinner plans.
According to my world-renowned eavesdropping skills, we’re having steak. My niece and her father already sitting at the table with a fork and knife in their hands only confirms this, since my oldest brother would eat steak at every meal, if he could—a trait he lovingly passed on to his daughter.
A trait he received from our father, who is making a beeline for his own chair at the table.
“Hi, Aunt Callie,” Goldie calls from the table. “Come sit with us. Mr. Oliver can come, too.”
Beside me, Oliver chuckles under his breath. “She really is adorable,” he whispers in my ear.
Ignoring how his warm breath feels brushing against my ear, I try focusing on how kind he’s been to my niece.
