Page 48 of Under Control
“Does that mean you won’t take my calls after hours anymore?”
“As if I’ve shown any ability whatsoever to resist you.” She laughed. “As if I’ve even tried.”
He hoped she didn’t start anytime soon.
Chapter Twelve
Olivia looked down at the football gnome on the landing, her stomach in knots as she listened to children’s voices on the other side of the door.
Today was a big deal—for her and for Derek both—and she was terrified she was going to screw it up somehow.
Before she could change her mind and run back to her car to text him some total lie about a migraine or upset stomach, she knocked and the voices quieted. A few seconds later, Derek answered the door.
His face lit up in a smile when he saw her, but he didn’t kiss her like he usually did. To be expected, she thought as he stepped back. “Come on in. You could probably hear the kids from outside. They’re a little excited today.”
“I’m excited, too.” And nervous as all get-out, but she kept that part to herself as she faced the two kids in the kitchen. They were watching her with interest, but she didn’t see any traces of animosity, which was a good start.
Derek rested his hand on his son’s shoulder. “This is Isaac and that’s Julia. Kids, this is my friend, Olivia. She’s going to ride over to the barbecue with us.”
That made her sound more like a hitchhiker than his girlfriend, but she knew he wanted to keep the introduction low-key, so she went with it. “I’ve heard these barbecues are always a lot of fun.”
Both kids nodded, and then Isaac gave her a little smile. “Do you like cheeseburgers?”
“I love cheeseburgers.”
“I like hot dogs,” Julia said quietly.
“I like those, too,” Olivia said, though she hadn’t had one in years. “Food cooked outside on grills always tastes better than regular food.”
“Is the bag ready?” Derek asked, and both kids scrambled to race into their rooms. He rolled his eyes. “A change of clothes for each of them in case one of them turns the hose on or there’s a condiment catastrophe. Sunscreen. Bug spray. And a small first aid kit. The barbecue staples.”
Olivia nodded, but somehow she’d thought eight-and ten-year-olds would be more...self-sufficient. She was an only child with no kids and, having distanced herself from her family, she didn’t have little cousins or nieces or nephews around. The movies and television shows she’d watched over the years clearly hadn’t educated her on the needs of children.
“I can’t believe how much they look like the two of you,” she said. “Isaac like you and Julia like her mother. I mean, I could see it in the pictures, but it’s so much more pronounced in person.”
He chuckled. “I think a lot of it’s the facial expressions. I mean, Julia is practically a clone of Amber, for sure. Isaac looks like me, but there’s also some of Amber’s dad in there. His expressions and mannerisms are all me, though, so...yeah, he looks like me most of the time.”
“He’s cute.”
Derek raised his eyebrow suggestively. “So you must think I’m cute, then?”
“You have your moments.”
“We’re ready,” Isaac announced as the kids reappeared, and Julia held a small gray duffel bag with their last name printed on it in bold black marker.
“Does anybody have to pee before we go?” he asked, and Olivia smiled when he glanced at her to include her in the question.
Nobody did, so he ushered them all down the stairs and to his car. Isaac liked to do most of the talking, she realized, and Julia let him because it meant less talking she had to do. Derek had mentioned she was a little shy around strangers, so Olivia hoped that was the cause and not a silent protest of her inclusion in their day.
“I should warn you, it’ll be a lot,” Derek said. “It gets loud and there’s a lot of joking and laughing. Sometimes there are arguments about the grills. We men sometimes get territorial about them.”
“And sometimes they set the grills on fire,” Julia added.
Olivia laughed. “Firefighters setting barbecue grills on fire? Did you have to call 9-1-1?”
“God no.” Derek actually shuddered. “That’s the kind of thing a house would never live down. Ever. We handled it.”
“But we had to scrape black stuff off the hot dogs,” Julia said. “Nobody likes burned hot dogs.”
