Wild Zone (Rough Riders Hockey 4)

Olivia exhaled and her shoulders sank under the work ahead of her. “Fine. I’ll stay. But only until school starts. I’m not going to lose that scholarship.”

Quinn gave a nod, but she looked more resigned than happy about it. “Great.” She turned and wandered toward the door. “Then get dressed, sis, we’ve got work to do.” Before Olivia could ask what she was talking about, Quinn lined it out for her. “We have to check out the kitchen at a new venue, negotiate a menu with a new client and talk ponies, fairies and flying dragons with the most adorable almost-six-year-old you’ll ever meet.”

At the door Quinn paused and her mouth quivered into a fragile smile. “Thanks, Liv. We really miss you. Every day.”

And she turned the corner toward the kitchen.

Tears welled in Olivia’s eyes. She fell back on her bed and stared at the blurry ceiling wondering if she was more of the reason their family was broken than her father dying.

Then she wondered what Tate was doing, if he’d want to see her again, and how she would get in contact with him.

“Don’t be an even bigger loser than you already are.” She tossed her arm over her eyes, using the shoulder of her dad’s tee to dry her tears.

Then she rolled to her feet and sighed heavily as she pulled clothes from her suitcase.

5

Tate slowed as he approached the open warehouse door of Essex Elite Events with sweat collecting on his palms. A sign hung above the door, and the x in Essex added flair to the name and logo.

He’d waited three days for the company to open for regular business hours, hoping he’d hear from Olivia before then. He’d gone as far as leaving a post it on his apartment door any time he left with a note for her to call him with his cell number, only to come home to the note every time. So he was feeling pretty vulnerable right now, putting himself out there to tell her he wanted to see her again when a: she’d made it very clear she was a one-and-done kind of girl and b: she hadn’t made any effort to contact him.

Tate took a breath before he stepped into the shadow cast by the industrial building and rubbed his hands down the sides of his jeans. Then he exhaled and tried to settle. But, man, his stomach felt like a wild bird in a cage. This was way harder than getting out on a rink in front of fifteen thousand people.

The wide metal doors were open, but inside, the warehouse was quiet and dark. Tables and chairs were stacked along one long wall. Shelves stocked with supplies lined the middle of the space. A forklift sat off to the side.

He’d only met Teresa once, when he’d spoken to her in person at length about taking over the project from the previous planner. Tate had fired the other woman after she’d messed up one too many times on Eden and Beckett’s wedding plans. After the engagement party, Tate was glad he’d followed Eden’s gut on the Essex mother-daughter team and hired them off her recommendation alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder what they would have done if Olivia hadn’t come in at the last minute and saved them.

None of that mattered now. It was all just something to busy his mind, because he knew Olivia was working with her family while she was in town. Which meant, involved or not, Tate and Olivia would see each other again. He was hoping that would happen sooner rather than later and more often than not. But he was still nervous as hell about how she would react to him now.

Tate cleared his throat and the sound echoed through the space. He lifted his hand to the wall and rapped a few times, then called, “Hello?”

His voice vibrated in the darkness, but got no response. And Tate’s hopes dropped. But his tension ebbed too. He walked deeper into the space, looking around. Row after row of rolling wardrobes were draped in material Tate could only guess was used for decoration. Oxygen tanks lined a short section of wall space. Shelves and shelves were lined with folded linens. Glassware. Tableware. Vases. Candles. Mirrors.

The sheer amount of inventory gathered gave him a whole different scope of this event planning gig. It was massive.

A female voice in the distance touched Tate’s ears and made his stomach flutter. He moved through the warehouse, focused on the tone, trying to figure out if it was Olivia or someone else. He had two different spiels worked up—one for Quinn and one for Teresa—if he needed them. But he hoped he found Olivia here first.

The clip of heels mixed with the woman’s voice growing closer, but Tate still couldn’t tell. And dammit, after hearing Olivia giggle and moan and scream for an entire night, he should be able to recognize—

Then she laughed. A soft, light-hearted sound that flipped Tate’s heart so hard, he covered the pain with his hand.

And he stepped back.

Three times.

He finally stopped himself when the woman walked into the warehouse from an open side door.

Olivia.

She wore a suit. A straight business skirt, a blazer and heels. It didn’t seem to fit her style—other than the color. Red. Deep, sensual red. It fit her curves like a fucking glove. And Tate ran his tongue over his lower lip. Even days later, he could remember exactly how good those curves tasted. And exactly how much Olivia loved being tasted. His grin widened, and his cock tingled with the memories.

Her head was down, her gaze on notes in her hand. Pausing at a small desk just inside the door, she set the papers down with her back to Tate.

He approached and paused ten feet away, hoping to catch that sultry floral scent of hers, but couldn’t. Crossing his arms, he waited. Her hair lay in loose curls against her shoulders and he wanted to role one around his finger while she laid stretched out on top of him naked and sated. The thought made him smile. Started his mind down a path to surprising her when she got off the phone, lighting her up, because he knew exactly how to do that in about three seconds flat, and taking her right here, quick and hard. An appetizer to a multiple course meal to stretch through the night.

Olivia laughed. “That sounds great. Okay. Fantastic.”

Tate started forward, relaxing into the rightness of just being in the same room with her. Beckett was right, Tate did deserve a good woman in his life. Even if they only had a little over a week left together. Based on their one night together, Tate was pretty sure Olivia could bring him as much happiness in that short amount of time as all his other relationships combined.