He was lying about something, and her heart lurched. But Olivia told herself she didn’t care. She didn’t have to trust him for this, whatever it was. She’d take what she needed from him. He’d take from her. And this time, nobody would get hurt.

BARE FEET PLANTED against the warm wooden planks of his deck, Jamie glared at the closest forsythia bush. He’d tried everything, but the plant refused to grow. Last year, he’d told himself it was still in shock from being transferred, but this spring it looked worse than ever. It didn’t like it here. Neither did Olivia, apparently.

He was pouting. He knew he was pouting, but that didn’t stop the urge. He’d started the day assuming he’d spend it with Olivia, as he’d spent his last four days off with Olivia. He’d opened his eyes this morning with a damned smile on his face.

He liked her way more than was healthy. There was enough chemistry between them to light a city, but it wasn’t just that. He liked the way she took things too seriously. He liked that he was the one who could make her face melt from serious to soft. He liked the way she laughed as if she was trying not to.

But best of all was the way she made him want to try. He’d given up trying long before. The night his parents died had taught him a brutal lesson and he’d learned it well. Sometimes the bad did outweigh the good. Sometimes you were just a fuckup who ruined everything. Everything. Even when you were trying to fix your mistake, you only made it worse.

After that night, he’d accepted that about himself. He wasn’t a good, upstanding son who always gave his best. He was the one who screwed up no matter how hard he tried. So why try? Why be responsible and committed and serious? He was a party guy and a clown whose irresponsibility had killed his parents. The fact that he’d been trying had only made it worse.

So he’d given up. At sixteen he’d thrown in the towel and accepted what he was. But now it was time to try again. Not just with the brewery, but with his siblings. And with Olivia.

She didn’t see him any differently than he’d seen himself. She thought he was a young, happy-go-lucky bartender with only a few simple things on his mind. She thought of him as a boy. But he was a man and it was time to show her that.

Which would’ve been much easier if she were here.

He stretched out his bare feet and crossed his legs at the ankles. That damned forsythia bush was still in his line of vision and he knew right then that he’d have to get rid of it. It was the only thing about the backyard that he didn’t love. If he moved it to a quiet corner with less sun, maybe it would take off.

Originally, he’d started working on the yard out of necessity. The lot was large enough, but it was separated down the middle by a high fence. The right side belonged to the resident of the second floor. The left side belonged to Jamie. After the construction of the house, he’d been looking at a deep, narrow rectangle of packed dirt, with only an ancient oak at the back and a few sprigs of wild grass. He’d sketched out a few halfhearted ideas for grass and bushes and a deck, but the trip to the garden center had inspired him.

Somehow, Jamie Donovan, playboy bartender extraordinaire, had found himself studying landscaping books and outdoor design magazines. A plan to sod his backyard had been transformed into a xeriscaping design, complete with walkways and water features and a two-tiered deck with an enclosed hot tub.

It had changed something for him. Maybe it had changed everything. He’d done every bit of it by himself, with his own two hands. He’d finished it. He’d tried. And it was beautiful. Peaceful. Damn near perfect.

And yet, he hadn’t shown it to anyone. Oh, some people had seen it. His sister had come over a few weeks ago and noticed the garden for the first time, but for some reason, instead of giving her a tour and showing off his accomplishments, Jamie had downplayed it. After a few minutes of unresponsiveness on his part, she’d stopped asking questions and dropped the subject.

Relief had swelled through him, though he hadn’t known why. Now he understood. It had been the trying. The vulnerability of that. He hadn’t wanted Tessa to know that he’d cared enough about this place to put everything he had into it.

His gaze slid to the hot tub nestled behind trellised walls, and he found himself smiling. He’d done another great thing with his own two hands. Olivia. And he was pretty sure he cared enough about her to try his very best.

Pushing to his feet, he started toward the small shed to grab a shovel. He’d move the bush today and get it over with. He could run over to the garden store and get a new one, and he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.

As he opened the metal door, the faintest female voice touched his ear. Freezing, he tilted his head.

“Jamie?” the woman called. It might be Olivia. If it was, maybe she’d like to help him. They could dig and replant and head out to the store together. He could walk her around the yard and show her everything he’d done.

“I’m in back,” he called out, slamming the shed door and stepping toward the side gate. It started to open and he smiled in welcome. But his sister was the woman who walked through.

“Oh, jeez,” she said. “At least pretend to be happy to see me.”

“I’m busy,” he snapped.

“Is someone here?”

“No.” He was proud that he kept the petulance out of his voice.

Tessa looked around as she walked toward him. “You don’t look busy. What are you doing?”

He was about to lie and say, “Nothing.” He wanted her to go away, mainly because she wasn’t Olivia. But he also wanted her to leave because of that old desire to keep this place to himself. But there was no re

ason to do that. She was his sister. She loved him. He could let her see what mattered to him.

“I’ve got to dig up a plant. It’s not doing well and it’s screwing up the look of the yard.”

“Oh.” She looked confused.

“Want to help?”

Tags: Victoria Dahl Donovan Brothers Brewery Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net