Page 50 of Fumbling Forward
“Yes.” Tears spill over now, tracking down her cheeks. “I’m terrified, Carter. But I’m more terrified of walking away from you again.”
I pull her into my arms, crushing her against my chest, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and perfume and something that’s justher. She wraps her arms around my waist, holding on like I’m the only solid thing in her world.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur against her hair. “I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I pull back just enough to look at her. “But we do this right. No more hiding. No more pretending we’re just colleagues. We tell Mark together. We face whatever comes together.”
Fear flickers across her face, but she nods. “Okay.”
“You’re sure? Because once we do this, there’s no going back.”
“I don’t want to go back.” Her hands slide up my chest, fingers curling in my shirt. “I want to go forward. With you.”
I kiss her then, right there in the parking garage where anyone could see. Deep and slow and claiming, pouring three days of misery and longing into the press of my mouth against hers.
She kisses me back with the same desperate hunger, her body melting into mine like she was made to fit there.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“We should probably talk to Mark,” she says, though she doesn’t let go of me.
“Tomorrow.” I rest my forehead against hers. “Tonight, I just want to be with you. No work. No stress. Just us.”
“Your place?”
“Yeah.” I press a kiss to her temple. “Come home with me.”
She pulls back slightly, searching my face. “Home?”
“Yeah.” The word feels right. True. “Home, Olivia. That’s what it is when you’re there.”
More tears spill over, but she’s smiling now. “You’re going to make me cry in a parking garage.”
“Better than making you cry in my foyer.” I wipe her tears away with my thumbs. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before someone spots us and we end up trending again.”
She laughs, the sound watery but genuine. “Too late. We’re definitely trending after that kiss.”
I glance up and spot a security camera pointed right at us. “Shit.”
“Yeah.” But she doesn’t look worried. She looks… free. “Guess we’re doing this the hard way.”
“Is there any other way?”
“With you? Apparently not.” She takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. “Come on, Storm. Take me home.”
We walk to my truck hand in hand, no longer hiding. And when I open the passenger door for her and she slides in witha smile that lights up her whole face, I know with absolute certainty:
Whatever comes next, the media storm, Mark’s reaction, the whispers and speculation, it’ll be worth it.
Because I’ve got Olivia Rivers back in my life.
And this time, I’m not letting her go.
The drive to my house is quiet, but it’s a comfortable silence. Olivia’s hand rests on the center console, and I keep mine over it, thumb tracing circles on her palm.
“What are you thinking?” I ask when we’re halfway there.
