For years, every time I spoke to my parents, my brothers, or Bentley I had been sure that they were going to tell me that she’d met someone and was engaged. I would have bet every last dollar I’d ever made that she would be married with at least one kid by now.
But that had never happened. I’d never even heard of her having a serious boyfriend. And in this town, someone would have known if she had.
I wasn’t who she was supposed to be with. She deserved better than me. She had before I was injured and she sure as hell did now.
But fuck, I missed her. I missed the girl I’d known, and I hated not knowing the woman that she’d become. But just like my career ending, I only had myself to blame.
I’d just grabbed a beer from the fridge and lowered down into the recliner when I heard a knock on the door. I almost ignored it. In L.A., the only people that knocked on doors unannounced were either delivery drivers or Jehovah’s Witnesses. But then I remembered where I was.
This was Wishing Well. People stopped by all the time without calling or texting first. I was sure by now the entire town knew that I was staying at Bentley’s. It could be my parents, my brothers, Bentley, or one of my other friends. Or it could just be a random person dropping off a casserole or plant as a homecoming gift.
Whoever it was, I knew that I couldn’t ignore them. They’d just keep knocking or come back tomorrow.
I stood and flinched when I did. The stabbing pain only lasted for a moment before a tingling numbness and dull ache replaced it. With each step I took toward the front door the ache got deeper. PT days were always tough, but after spending three days in the car, this one had been particularly brutal.
By the time I made it to the door, there were beads of sweat forming on the base of my neck. I was going to thank whoever was on the porch for stopping by and tell them I was tired and going to turn in early.
My eyes were cast down when I opened it and I was not expecting to see huge brown eyes staring up at me. A gorgeous golden lab was seated next to Olivia, who was carrying a large tote bag.
She smiled and, in that moment, it was like no time had passed at all. We were back in middle school. My hands grew damp, my pulse raced, and I couldn’t breathe.
Chapter 10
Olivia
“The key to success is to focus on what can go right, not on what can go wrong.”
~ Maggie Calhoun
Why in the name of Dolly Parton did Holden Reed have to be so damn good looking? It’s not fair, I thought to myself as I smiled trying not to show how affected I was by being face to face with him.
I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d seen him up close and personal and it was staggering the difference this view made.
After all these years, he looked exactly the same and totally different at the same time. The scar that cut through his right eyebrow that he’d gotten when he’d been helping unload a horse at the rodeo when he was ten and taken a hoof to the face was still there. His nose still had a bump in the center from being broken when he took a header over the handlebars of his ten-speed when he’d been racing Bentley and Travis across Old Man Spratt’s field. His eyes that were bluer than the ocean were still surrounded by thick, dark lashes.
But he did have some wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time I saw him. And there were also dark circles beneath his eyes that he’d never had, but I thought might be because of the pain he was in. But the biggest change was the beard that covered his strong jaw. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch it.
“Hi,” I finally managed to say.
“Hi.”
This was going well so far. He was speaking to me, at least. “I just wanted to stop by and welcome you to the duplex. Well, we did.” I dipped my chin toward Channing.
“Who’s this?” He looked down.
“This is Channing Tatum.”
“Hi, Channing Tatum.” Holden bent over to pet Channing on his head.
Channing ate up the attention and so did I. There was a reason that firefighters did calendars with dogs, and there were entire Instagram pages devoted to hot guys with dogs. There was something really sexy about the combo.
I was mid-swoon when Holden slowly stood back up. I watched the color drain from his sun kissed skin as he straightened. When he was fully upright, he held himself perfectly still as if even the slightest movement would be excruciating.
The nurturer in me was screaming to reach out and put my arm around him to support him, or to do something, anything, to make him feel better. But Holden had never been one that appreciated anyone fussing over him. Which was probably why he hadn’t let his mom come and visit him.
I tried not to let the fact that I could see how much discomfort he was in show on my face as I held up my secret weapon. “Can we come in? We brought dinner.”
At the mention and movement of the food Channing’s tail thumped against the wood planks of the porch.
Holden’s jaw tensed and his nostrils flared. It was obvious that he wanted to turn me away, but I knew he wouldn’t because that wouldn’t be very neighborly. He’d been raised better than that. His manners wouldn’t allow him to shut the door in my face.
Just as I’d predicted, he stepped back and held open the door, but he didn’t look very happy about it. Channing, who was used to visiting Bentley, trotted into the condo and made himself right at home.
I wondered if I should drop off the food and leave so he could rest. But I quickly dismissed that idea. He’d had two months of getting through this on his own. Besides, he’d moved next door to me. He’d agreed to keep an eye on me. I didn’t do those things. He did.
As I walked past him, I couldn’t resist inhaling deeply. Even when we were kids, Holden had always smelled like a mixture of Irish Spring soap, fresh laundry, and musk. I wasn’t sure how he pulled that off at seven, but he had. When the scent that was uniquely his hit my olfactory system, my lady parts fluttered. A tingle spread across every inch of bare skin on my body. Goosebumps broke out on my legs.
The energy between us was electric, and it boggled my mind that he didn’t feel it. How could he be so unaffected? I heard him inhale and wondered if maybe he wasn’t. Maybe, just maybe, he’d missed the way I smelt too.
“Is that your mom’s famous fried chicken?”
Or maybe he just missed my mom’s cooking. I’d called her for the recipe as soon as I’d left the diner and I’d spent all afternoon cooking. I figured even if he didn’t want to see me, there was no way that he’d turn away my mom’s fried chicken.
“Yep. I wasn’t sure when the last time you had a home-cooked meal was.”
“It’s been a long time.”
His deep voice sent a thrill racing down my spine, but I did my best to ignore it. I walked straight back to the kitchen. Channing followed along his tail wagging. He circled three times before plopping down in his corner. The dog bed Bentley had bought for him was still sitting in his area.
“Have you eaten?” If he said yes, then I’d know he wanted me to leave. But if he said no, then I knew he wanted me to stay. I held my breath waiting for his response.
“No.”
My lips curled up in a smile as I set my bag down on the butcher block island and started pulling plates out of the cabinets.