Broken Hero

But he doesn’t seem to mind. “So let them,” he says.

“Look what I found! The perfect red velvet cake… Oh.” My aunt stops in the doorway, balancing a massive cake in her arms. I lean back and put some distance between me and Oliver, but it’s no use. Her eyes flicker between us and it’s obvious that she can sense the intimacy.

“That looks great,” Oliver says. “Did you do the decorations just now?”

“Yes. I wrote John’s name on the top.” She wraps the cake in a large, white box. “Don’t forget to carry this straight. Put it at the foot of your passenger seat, not on the seat itself, okay?”

“Of course, ma’am. Thank you.”

“Call me Claire, please.” To my surprise, there’s a faint blush on my aunt’s cheeks. “Tell Sarah hello for me, and happy birthday from us to John?”

“I will. Can you put this on our invoice?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you for this, Claire.” He straightens with the box in his arms. “I’ll see you soon, Lucy.”

“Yes. Have fun!”

With a final nod to us both, Oliver strides out of the bakery and across the street to his truck. Claire and I watch in silence as he climbs into the passenger street and drives away.

The silence feels loaded. I can only imagine what my aunt is thinking right now. The Spanish Inquisition should begin in three, two, one…

But she doesn’t say a thing. She just smiles and dusts her hands off on her apron. “He always was a good boy. I think he’s doing much better now, you know.”

“You think?””Yes. He came in here, and he smiled.” She holds up a finger at me. “Recovery takes time, you know. I’m sure that’s the first rule of physical therapy.”

“You’re probably right. I should take notes.”Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

She stops, one hand on the door to the kitchen. Her face is thoughtful. “So that’s why you like working at the ranch so much.”

I can’t help it-a slow smile spreads across my face, mingling with my flushed cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”

Claire smiles. “Sweetheart, with the way you two looked at each other just now, I’m surprised the entire town doesn’t already know.”

My narrow bed feels far too big when I try to sleep that night. I miss Oliver’s hair against my temple and his strong arms around my waist. For the past week, I’ve spent nearly every night at the ranch. The early morning drive to town had become our ritual, and the farewell kiss on my doorstep was the sweetest goodbye.

I sigh and look up at the ceiling. He’d become vital to my happiness in such a short time. I felt like myself around him-and he could be who he was, without pretension or expectation.

Would it be so bad if people found out about us? Maybe we could go together to the staff BBQ party like he suggested. He’s my boss, yes, but Claremont isn’t Dallas, and I’m technically more of a consultant. I know that some people in town don’t like the thought of a masseuse, but the majority of people had been incredibly welcoming.

I reach out and grab my phone. We rarely text-Oliver once said he preferred to talk in person or on the phone-but I shoot him one anyway. How was John’s birthday?

The answer is immediate, which is unusual for him. I spent most of the evening with Nora. We built a pirate ship out of blankets and pillows.

I smile. Did you use her as an excuse to hide from the other guests?

It was a tactical retreat.

At that, I have to laugh. It isn’t hard to picture him turning taciturn, surrounded by strangers, and a small hand tugging him away to build forts. He’ll make a great father one day.

Can’t sleep?

No.

I bite my lip. Same. I wish you were here.

I watch the screen, waiting for the three little dots to appear, but they don’t. Maybe he fell asleep-God knew he needed it. I put my phone on my bedside table. I should try to do the same.

I’m still tossing and turning when my phone rings fifteen minutes later. The name flashing across the screen is a welcome surprise.

“Oliver?””Come downstairs.”

“What?””Come downstairs and let me in.”

I throw back the covers and rush downstairs. Lo and behold-on my doorstep is one tall, handsome and broad-shouldered ranch owner. His eyes are alight, telling me everything I know he doesn’t have the words for yet.

“Lucy,” he says.

“You came? I can’t believe you came!”

He locks the door behind him, shrugging out of his light jacket. “You said that you wished I was here.”

“Well, yes, but I didn’t think you’d-”

“Make your wish come true?”

I smile at him and reach up to wrap my arms around his neck. His body is big and familiar against me, a safe anchor in the night. “Exactly.”

Oliver runs reverent hands down my body and grips the back of my thighs, lifting me up against his body. We fit effortlessly-wrapping my legs around his waist feels like coming home. He carries me up the stairs, holding me tightly.

“Can I say something cheesy?”

He pretends to consider it for a moment. “Permission granted.”

“I want to make your dreams come true, too.”

“You’re smooth, Rhodes.”

I smile against his lips as he lays me down on the bed. His skin is warm to the touch. “Just trying to keep up with you, stud.”

Oliver stills, his hands on my waist. “Stud?”

“I know, I heard it the moment I said it. Ignore me.”

He smiles. “Okay. You’re welcome to say more stupid things, if you want.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” I say and he chuckles. He motions for me to scoot forward and kisses me slowly, tantalizingly, using his tongue to tease out my reactions. I can’t be in the same room as him without wanting to feel him inside me, and judging from the way his tongue moves in sync with mine, he feels the same way.