Bad Boys Do (Donovan Brothers Brewery 2)

She tried to look without moving too much, but Jamie was easing her up. She closed her eyes as he slid out of her.

“Good Table Consulting,” he said, and her eyes popped open.

“Oh,” she said, twisting around to sit beside him. “That’s… That’s me.”

“Are you kidding?” His face lit up. For her. He grinned and touched the logo on the screen. “That’s you?”

“It is.” She ducked her head when he looked at her, but his finger eased her chin up.

“You’re doing it.”

“I am.” She couldn’t help but answer his smile.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I’m just doing something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

“I guess we’re just a couple of late bloomers, huh?”

She kissed his sweet smile. “Some of us later than others?”

“Just a little, Ms. Bishop.”

“I…” She couldn’t say it. Not yet.

“I know,” he whispered.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

OLIVIA BURST FROM HER FRONT door as if she were breaking out of a starting gate. She was late. Late.

Well, she wasn’t quite late, but she wasn’t early, either, and she couldn’t stand the idea of being late for her first dinner with Jamie’s family. She was driving to Jamie’s place first, so she could spend the night and still leave early enough to make it to Denver on Monday morning for an eight-o’clock meeting with a commercial real estate agent. She didn’t need new space herself, but she needed to keep up with what was available on the local market.

Rushing for the parking lot while she balanced her bag and the chocolate cake she’d made for dinner with his family, Olivia didn’t notice the girl standing next to her car. In fact, she’d already hit the locks and reached for the door when she caught movement close by and jumped with a little yelp. The cake slipped, but she held on to it.

“Allison?” she gasped as the girl stepped away from the bumper. “Good Lord, you scared me.”

Allison set her jaw and didn’t say anything.

Olivia blinked in shock at the sight of her. Not just because her presence was unexpected—and it was—but because she’d changed completely in the three weeks since Olivia had last seen her. Gone was the girl with the long ponytail and slightly bohemian dress. She’d cut her hair into a shaggy, trendy bob and she was wearing dark jeans and a black maternity top that was clearly designed to emphasize her pregnancy rather than hide it.

“Um. Were you waiting for me?” Olivia asked. The cake started to slip again, so she opened the door and set it carefully down.

When she straightened, Allison was glaring. She put her hands on her hips. “We’re getting married,” she said, each letter deliberately crisp.

“Oh. Well. Congratulations.”

“I want you to stay away from him.”

“Allison,” she sighed. “That really won’t be a problem. We’ve been living separate lives for quite a while now.”

The girl smirked. “Yeah, right.”

Good Lord. “Listen, I don’t know what he’s told you, but—”

“What he’s told me is that he’s still in love with you and that you’re going to get back together.”

“That’s not true.”