“Please don’t say anything!” she hurries to say before I can speak. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to say anything in return. I just didn’t want to let you go into this without knowing how I feel, that I’m really trying to leave the past in the past and not let it get inside my head and screw things up between us.”
“I don’t feel obligated to say anything.”
“Oh,” she says, deadpan. “Well, good. Because I wouldn’t want you to do that.”
“I won’t. If I tell you ‘I love you’ it’s because I mean it, not because it’s an expected response.”
“Okay,” she says quietly then, “Oh crap! Mom’s up. I’ve gotta go. Please be careful today!”
“I will.”
“See you soon?”
“As soon as I know you’re safe.”
“Please let that be soon.”
I laugh. “I’ll do my best to make them bend to my will.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. You’re pretty good at that.”
“How do you know?”
“You’ve worked your charm on me more than once.”
“Baby, I haven’t even begun to charm you yet. Just wait until you get back.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she murmurs, the smile evident in her tone.
“Damn straight. You’ll hold whatever I tell you to, right?”
“Whatever you say, Colonel,” she teases, referring to our banter when she thought I was Nash.
“Now that’s what I like to hear.”
“Maybe I’ll even salute you when you come for me.”
“I’ll have the salute all taken care of. I’m sure there will be parts of me at perfect attention when I come for you.”
“You’re so bad.”
“But only in the good way.”
“Right,” she says softly. “Only in the good way.”
“Try to get some rest. I’ll call when I get back.”
“Okay. Talk to you then.”
There’s a pause. Neither of us wants to say the words. So we don’t. She simply hangs up. And I follow suit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE- Olivia
If ever there was a small hope I’d get some sleep, it’s gone now.
Holy crap balls! I just told Cash I love him!
Well, sorta. Was what I said a cop-out? Was that the chicken shit’s version? Probably. But at least he got the point before he goes off to make war with some mobsters. And that’s what I wanted most—for him to know. My execution just sucked ass.
But that’s not even the most emotional firework-ish part. That would be what he said to me afterward.
“If I tell you ‘I love you’ it’s because I mean it, not because it’s an expected response.”
Did he tell me he loves me? Or did he tell me that if he loved me, he’d mean it? Or was he just giving me some background on his I love you M.O.?
What the hell?
The more I think about it, the more I go over each word, the more confusing it becomes.
On autopilot, I dress quickly and run a brush through my hair before I hit the door and head down stairs. The house is quiet, so I’m careful not to make much noise. Mom is an early riser. A very early riser. She likes her morning time to be peaceful and my being here at all is one strike against me. I don’t need to do anything more to poke the bear.
“Who dressed you? A six year old? Your shirt’s on inside out.”
I look down and, sure enough, my t-shirt is on inside out.
Autopilot, you suck!
I wave her off. “I didn’t turn on the light. I’ll fix it before anyone else gets up.”
As if he’s happy to make a liar out of me, Gavin chooses that exact moment to enter the kitchen.
“Morning, ladies,” he says in his charming accent, his smile wide and pleasant. No one says anything for a few seconds, which doesn’t seem to bother him one bit. “Olivia, I can see where you get your looks. You didn’t tell me your mother’s such a beautiful woman.”
The urge to roll my eyes is strong. But then I start to feel sorry for Gavin. He is sooooo barking up the wrong tree!
“Another charmer, I see,” my mother says caustically, eyeing Gavin with disdain. “Your wiles might work on my daughter, but you needn’t bother with me. I’m all too familiar with your kind.”
“My kind?” Gavin clearly has no clue what she’s talking about. I probably should’ve forewarned him about Mom.
“Gavin, why don’t you get your shower first? It won’t take me long to get ready.”
“Are we in a hurry?”
“Well, not really. My first class doesn’t start for a while, but—”