Blowing His Horn

4

Leland

I knew not coming clean after our first date would bite me in the ass, but I’d buried my head in the sand like a motherfucking idiot.

I didn’t have a response for Olivia right away because everything she’d said was true. Granted, my relationship with her had become real on the first date and keeping tabs on Delia had become a side benefit. Maybe I should lead with that.

“Baby—”

“Don’t you baby me, Leland James,” she hissed, her green eyes spitting fire.

I blinked a few times, trying to avoid being aroused by how magnificent she looked when she was all worked up.

“Baby,” I said firmly, continuing on before she could speak and ignoring the daggers she was glaring at me. “I admit, I asked you out that first time to dig up details on Delia. But I already enjoyed your company, so I knew we could have a fun date. Then—”

“You kept it up to be Danny’s informant, right? Was having sex”—she whispered that part after glancing at the door cautiously—“with me just a perk?”

I closed the distance between us in two steps and grasped her biceps. “You have that backward, Olivia. It only took a few minutes for me to fall for you and for our relationship to become real. The shit with Delia was the perk. And despite what you just heard; you know me better than to think that I would casually fuck you.” I considered telling her about the engagement ring I’d ordered, but I didn’t have the actual jewelry and I’d left the receipt at home so Olivia wouldn’t accidentally find it. And I paid cash. All of which I was kicking myself for right at that moment. She could assume I was making it up to get out of the grave I’d dug for myself.

Olivia ripped her arms from my hands and stalked across the room, rubbing her biceps as if she were cold. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

I opened my mouth to try another tactic, but the door burst open. Instead of yelling again, Olivia’s dad poked his head into the room and glanced around suspiciously. “Breakfast is ready.” He seemed satisfied by the distance between Olivia and me, but then his eyes lingered on his daughter a little longer before he turned an accusing gaze on me.

Shit.

“Leave it alone, Dad,” Olivia muttered as she stalked to the door. “Let’s eat.”

The last thing I wanted at that moment was food. I wanted to finish our conversation because the longer Olivia stewed over the whole thing, the more likely she was to blow it out of proportion in her head. I couldn’t blame her, though. I would’ve done the same thing if I’d been in her shoes. My imagination would be running wild with every negative scenario possible.

However, she disappeared into the hallway, and her dad scowled at me before following her.

Breakfast was tense, to say the least. Despite her obvious curiosity, Alice tried to lighten the mood with chitchat. I tried to answer her, but my attention constantly strayed to my girl. She studiously ignored me, acting as chipper as she could manage as she engaged with her mom in light conversation. Her dad silently brooded, continuing to glare at me, making me want to squirm like a teenager who’d just been caught sneaking out.

When it was clear that everyone was finished—I’d forced down my plate of food but didn’t take more, which made her mom look at me oddly—Olivia volunteered to do the dishes. I offered to help, but she waved me off, still refusing to meet my eyes.

Mr. Hall started to say something, but his wife railroaded him and beckoned me to come with her. “Help me with something, Leland.”

Torn, I looked at Olivia once more before sighing and trudging after Alice as she left the kitchen. She led the way to the garage and opened the door, letting in a blast of cold air. “I have a few more lights I want to put up outside. Would you be a dear and lend me a hand?”

“Of course,” I replied automatically. My parents had taught me to respect my elders and do as I was told. But I also agreed because the last thing I needed was Alice hurting herself while trying to hang lights. It certainly wouldn’t help my case with Olivia.

“Great! The bins are up there.” She pointed at a stack of green containers on the opposite side of the garage. They used the empty bay of their three-car garage as storage. “Why don’t you pull them down while I grab our coats. They might need a little untangling first.” Before she went inside, she flipped a switch, and one of the three overhead heaters turned on. It wasn’t strong—just enough to keep the occupants from freezing their asses off, but it was directly above me.