Page 31 of Only One Bed: Anthology Vol. 1
And there she is.
Olive Buchanan, woman of my dreams, rocks herself on the porch swing and flips to the next page in her novel, seemingly unaware of my return.
She asked about me. I thought I’d be lucky if she spared me a thought every so often after our one and only meeting.
Turns out, I’m not the only one who couldn’t forget that night.
“What would you say,” her head pops up as I start to speak, “if I told you I’m planning on buying a plane ticket to Chicago?”
That secretive, enticing smile sneaks across her lips, and I remember the feel of them against my neck.
“Are you going to come visit me, Theodorenessavain?”
“I think I have to, Oliviadorellamare.”
She sets aside her book and rises from the swing, sauntering toward me until only an inch separates us. A single finger trails down the front of my sweat-damp shirt, and despite the humid heat of the day, I shiver.
“Well then I guess I’d have to tell you my apartment is kinda small. And I only have one bed. So you better be ready to share.”
Capturing her hand, I bring it to my mouth for a kiss.
“We can make that work.”
ONE YEAR LATER
“Come on,Mom.Twopets has to bump us up aboveonekid.” Olive presses her fists on the heavy wooden table, looming over Mrs. Buchanan. The older woman seems more interested in her margarita than her daughter’s argument.
“You know the rules.”
“Rules change! And might I add, Scoundrel only has the three legs.” She waves at the pit bull lounging in a patch of sunlight by the back door. He’s found one of the best spots, having a beautiful view of the expansive mountain lake this year’s rental butts up against.
I crouch down to scratch behind the ears of the sweet beast Olive and I adopted together two months ago. Jezebel saunters toward us, hisses at Scoundrel, then struts away.
Their friendship is a work in progress.
“Stop whining. I’m on vacation. Theo, come distract my daughter before I make her sleep on the dock.”
My fight against a chuckle fails, and I give in to the laughter as I wrap my arms around Olive’s waist.
“Theo is my ally, not yours, Mom,” she grumps, leaning back into my chest.
Without a conscious thought, my hand sneaks down to find hers, fingering the sapphire she let me put on her left ring finger the day before we went to the animal shelter.
My little claim. My final acceptance into the Buchanan family.
An announcement to the world that after seven years of pining, Olive Buchanan chose me.
“Top of the hierarchy, or bottom tier,” I whisper in her ear. “As long as you’re in the bed, I’ve got the best one in the house.”
