He's So Fine (14 page)

C
ole’s eyes just about popped out of his head at the sight of Olivia, and when the irony of her costume hit him, he laughed. “Ariel, fair maiden of the sea,” he said, and bowed.

When he rose again she was…blushing? Fascinating that his confident, hot Supergirl would be, but she most definitely was.

Becca and Callie were right behind her, staring at him with their jaws dropped open.

“Wow is right,” Becca said with serious ego-stroking awe in her voice.

“You’re engaged to be married,” Callie reminded her.

“Yes, but it’s Captain Jack Sparrow,” Becca said. “He’s a fictional character. You’re allowed to lust after fictional characters when you’re engaged. It’s in the Engaged Handbook somewhere.”

Cole smiled at her.

Becca smiled back dreamily.

Olivia rolled her eyes and pointed at Callie and Becca. “Do
not
eat my brownies.” And then she shoved Cole over the threshold, followed, and shut the door behind them.

“Brownies?” he asked, leading her to his truck.

“Yeah, I—” She stopped at the passenger side and stared up into the cab, and then down at her tight skirt.

“No worries, I’ve got ya.” He scooped her up and set her on the seat, taking his time putting her seat belt on for her and retrieving his hands from her delicious curves.

“I could have done that,” she said, a little breathless.

“What fun would that have been?”

“I…” She closed her mouth, blushed wildly, and sighed. “I forgot what I was going to say.”

He grinned.

“Not helping,” she said. “I made the brownies last night. They were to be my reward if I survive this
favor
. I could use them right now.”

“I’ve got something better than chocolate.”

“No kidding,” she muttered.

He laughed and pulled the truck out onto the road. A few minutes later, they were driving up the bluffs. He parked and Olivia glanced around at the house at the top of the driveway and then the tumbling sea far below.

“What are we doing?” she asked. “Where are we?”

“My place,” he said. “I didn’t have time to stop at home before picking you up. I’ve just got to get the wine and beer I promised to bring tonight. Do you want to come in, or wait here?”

Their gazes met and held a moment. “I’ll come in,” she said. “But you should know it’s because I’m curious about your house, not because I want to do…” She almost said “it,” he could tell. “The wild monkey sex,” she said instead.

He grinned at her. “Look at you with the big-girl vocabulary.” He unlocked the front door and held it open for her to walk in ahead of him. “Fair warning,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

He’d had the house for a year now, and loved the small beach shack that he was slowly renovating. Slowly being the key word.

Olivia took in the sights. Cole looked around, trying to see his place as she might. The living room and kitchen were all one room, a wall of windows allowing a stunning view of the water.

That was his favorite part of the place.

There were some dishes on the counter, books on the kitchen table, and a tumble of shoes and boots in a huge wooden box, above which a ton of weather gear hung on pegs. Yeah, he probably could’ve done a better job on the cleanup efforts.

The furniture was big and comfy, and well used. The TV was a massive flat-screen, new. “Home sweet home,” he said.

“It’s nice,” she said.

“Working on it.” He stepped into the kitchen and grabbed the beer and wine. Striding toward Olivia, his little mermaid for the evening, he set the boxes down on the bench by the front door and stepped into her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she said a little breathlessly. He wasn’t sure, it could’ve been how tight her costume was, but he wanted to think it was because of him. He ran his hands down her body. “I like this costume. A
lot
.”

“Yours isn’t bad either.” Her gaze lingered on his open shirt.

Her eyes dilated.

“Say the word,” he said, done teasing, “and we skip the party.”

“I’m wearing mermaid hair.”

“I know.” He wasn’t sure what that had to do with wild monkey sex. He let his fingers run through the hip-length red wig she was sporting, and because he was a multitasker, he could picture what she’d look like riding him in that wig, the locks flowing over her breasts, brushing his chest. It was a real good image. “I like the hair. And that skirt.”

“It took three of us to get me into this skirt,” she said. “Callie broke a nail and Becca fell on her ass helping me tug it into place. That should’ve been a clue.”

Cole had started to pull away but he stilled. “Your friends had to help you dress?”

She slid him a look. “Is that all you heard?”

“Pretty much,” he admitted.

“Oh, for God’s sake—”

“Shh a minute,” he said. “I’m not done picturing it.”

She shook her head and gave him a shove. Grinning, he pulled free, led her back to his truck, made sure she was buckled up, and shut the door.

“You mentioned surviving the night,” he said when they were on the road again. “What do I get if I survive the night?” he asked.

She glanced over at him, clearly startled. “Where are we going, exactly?”

He stopped at a light. “My sister’s annual Halloween surprise party for her husband.”

She stared at him like there were so many problems with that statement that she didn’t know where to start. “How can an annual party be a surprise?”

“My sister’s husband loves her, God knows why. She gets a kick out of giving him a surprise party, so he pretends to be surprised.”

More staring from gorgeous mermaid. “You’re bringing me to a family party,” she said.

“Yeah.”

She opened her mouth. And then closed it. “Is your family that bad that you need a prize to survive them?”

“There are days, yes,” he said.

She just stared at him.

“Don’t worry, they’re going to love you. And that costume? Hot. I’m going to have to fight off the cousins and brothers-in-law,” he said half jokingly as he pulled up to his sister’s house. There were already a bunch of cars, and judging from the loud music and laughter coming from the house, the party was already well under way. “Perfect. Looks like we’re late enough that everyone’s already going to be a few red Solo cups into the evening’s festivities.”

“We’re late?”

“Perfectly late,” he said.

She blinked at him. “So we’re at a family party, and we’re late. On purpose.”

She was mad, he realized. “I was saving you from having to be with them longer than necessary.”

“You were saving me,” she said, and then nodded. But then she shook her head. “And you think I’m going to make a good impression here. In a ridiculously revealing costume that screams ‘ho on a stick,’ and also, we’re late.”

He couldn’t help it, he laughed.

Wrong move.

He got that immediately, but as she fumbled for the door handle it was all he could do to hit the locks before she escaped. “Wait,” he said, knowing that if she got out, she would take off like a bat out of hell. “Wait a minute. Let me catch up.”

She whirled back to him, brow knitted, lips—those perfect red lips—ready to blast him. “I’m waiting.”

“You’re mad that we’re at a family party.”

“Give the man a point,” she said.

“And you’re mad that we’re late.”

“Another point,” she said. “Want to go for a three-pointer and win the game?”

“No one’s going to care that we’re late,” he said to soothe her. “I’m the only son; they’re going to be grateful I showed up at all. And having you with me, you’re like my get-out-of-jail-free card.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little early for this?”

“No,” he said. “We missed the ‘Surprise’ already. I hate that part.”

“Your family,” she said. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to have me meet your family? We’re not even…” She trailed off, clearly at a complete loss.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said.

She gave him a look that he imagined could shrivel a guy’s balls right off. But the truth was, he liked her show of temper. Her eyes were sparking, her skin was flushed, and she looked like she wanted to kick his ass from here to next week. He had a good fifty pounds on her, but he wanted to tangle.

With her in that costume.

And out of it.

She made him feel so damn…alive. He looked down at the erection he was sporting—not smart in the stupid pirate pants that didn’t hide a damn thing—and snorted.

She followed his gaze and narrowed her eyes. “Are you kidding me? My pissiness is turning you on?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just you,” he said. “No worries. I’ll do multiplication. That usually works. Twelve times twelve—” He caught movement at the front windows. “The coven’s watching.”

“The coven?”

“My sisters.”

She just stared at him. “You call your sisters ‘the coven’?”

“Just sometimes.”

“And they’re watching us.”

“Little bit. They like to stick their noses in my business. It’s like they can’t help themselves.”

“And you’re still hard?” she asked, heavy on the irony.

“Good point,” he said. He looked over and saw Cindy peeking out the window and pointing at him, probably to Clare or Cara. “Problem solved,” he muttered.

“I should have eaten the brownies first,” she said.

Cole was beginning to understand that family meant something entirely different to her than it did to him. “Hey, it’s going to be fun.” He wished he knew what had put that look on her face, that distrust, that…vulnerability. He hadn’t wanted to push because she’d been so reluctant to talk about her family, but he was undeniably curious.

And more than that. He was concerned that maybe her past wasn’t anything that she
wanted
to remember. And he hated thinking about why that might be.

He really wanted to know more about her, but now wasn’t the time. Now was the time to try to get her to relax and enjoy. Reaching across the console, he squeezed her hand. “Listen,” he said, dipping down a little to look into her eyes. “I know you’re skittish about this, but it’s going to be okay.”

She didn’t respond, but he could read her now, or he was starting to be able to. She had a wealth of old soul in those dark depths. And pain.

It killed him.

He cupped her jaw. “I promise not to hurt you, Olivia.”

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. “People can’t promise things like that.”

“Try me.”

She stared at him some more, got out of the truck, and then started walking toward the front door.

They didn’t even hit the first step before the door flew open and the music and laughter spilled out.

So did a sister or two.

“Clare, Cindy,” he said, pointing to the two people dressed up as Dr. Seuss’s Thing One and Thing Two.

If it hadn’t been for the five-year-old minion gripping Thing One’s thigh—Clare’s son, Jonathan—he couldn’t have said who was who. “This is Olivia.”

“Gorgeous costume,” Clare said. “You look fantastic.”

“Thanks,” Olivia said.

“Is that hair real?” Thing Two asked, reaching out to touch it.

“No,” Olivia said. “It’s just a wig.”

“Good,” Cindy said. “Or I’d have to hate you. It’s amazing. You didn’t get this at any old costume shop.”

“No,” Olivia said, “I didn’t.”

“She owns the Unique Boutique,” Cole told them. “She’s got some pretty amazing stuff in there.” He felt Olivia’s glance and turned his head to meet it.

He’d surprised her. Getting that his family could be completely overwhelming to him, and he’d known them all his life, he could only imagine how bad it might be for a perfect stranger. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand in his and pulled her in a little closer, smiling at her.

She smiled back—for his sisters’ sake, he was pretty sure, and he was proven right when she went up on tiptoe to murmur in his ear.

“I don’t care how hot you look, Captain Sparrow, if I survive this night,
I
win. And my spoils are going to be more than brownies.”

Y
ou can’t call a woman’s things ‘stuff,’” Clare said to Cole. She looked at Olivia. “Sorry. We raised him better than that.”

Olivia did her best to smile. No way was she going to admit that walking into this all-Donovan party had shaken her to her core. No way. She shook her head, like
It’s all good
. “It’s okay. It
is
mostly…stuff.”

Iron Man came up behind Cole and began to strangle him. Cole reached behind him and junk-punched the superhero, dropping the giant guy to the floor. As Iron Man went down, he hooked a foot around Cole’s legs and brought him down with him, hard.

The floor shook like thunder.

The two of them wrestled and rolled around, crashing into a coffee table. They were evenly matched, which was a good thing for Jack Sparrow, given that Iron Man had a hundred pounds and six inches on him.

“Squash him like a bug, honey,” Thing Two yelled.

Okay, that was sweet in a way, Olivia thought, Cindy calling her brother “honey.”

“Nail his sorry ass,” Cindy yelled. “Come on, Garrett, you can totally take that pipsqueak!”

Whoops, Olivia’s mistake. Thing Two wasn’t encouraging Cole. She was yelling for Iron Man to squash Cole like a bug.

And indeed, Iron Man rolled onto Cole and bent him like a pretzel.

“Excuse me,” Olivia said to Thing Two, “but you know he’s injured, right?”

“Eh, he’s tough,” Cindy said. “Honey,” she yelled, “sit on him if you have to!”

The entire party of about thirty people had gathered around and were cheering and egging on the wrestling match. They seemed pretty evenly divided between Jack Sparrow and Iron Man.

Iron Man was winning. He had Jack Sparrow in what looked like an impossible hold, eating hardwood floor.

“He’s injured,” Olivia tried again, this time to Miley Cyrus and Robin Thicke, who’d come up beside her. “His shoulder—”

The guy dressed as Robin Thicke grinned. “He’s scrappy as hell, darlin’, no worries.”

Olivia glared at them, and then at his sisters, but clearly no help was going to come for Cole from either source. Whatever. She’d help him herself then, and she strode directly into the melee and—

Cole managed to turn his face and smile up at her. He actually smiled, like
I got this, babe
.

She stopped and shook her head, and Cole made his move. He rolled Iron Man onto his belly, climbed on top of him, and wrapped his forearm around Iron Man’s beefy neck, yanking his head up off the floor.

“Oh, come on!” Cindy yelled at Iron Man. “It’s like you’re not even trying!”

Cole leaned low over Iron Man, his mouth near the guy’s ear. “Say it.”

Iron Man shook his head.

“I’m going to offer this one last time,” Cole said, calm as you please, sitting on Iron Man’s back. “Say it or eat dust.”

Iron Man huffed out a huge sigh. “Fine. I bow to your greatness.”

“Sorry,” Cole said, cupping a hand around his ear. “Didn’t hear you.”

“I bow to your greatness! Jesus! You’re going to wrinkle the suit, man! And you might want to lay off the pizza and beer, you’re getting fat.”

Cole grinned—clearly he knew damn well he didn’t have a spare ounce of fat on him—and sprang up to his feet.

Iron Man flopped to his back. “Shit. You suck.”

Cole strode over to Olivia and slung an arm around her neck. Pulling her in, he kissed her temple. “Ariel, this is Garrett, my brother-in-law.”

Olivia just stared up at Cole. “Are you okay?”

“I won, didn’t I?” He glanced back at Iron Man, still lying on the floor sucking in wind.

“Yes,” she said, “but—”

“Princess of the sea,” he said, and let out another laugh in her ear, “you can inspect me for injuries later.”

She stared at him. “Men are so weird.”

“Good weird, right?”

That was when Elvira walked up to them. She was lean and regal, and she gave Cole a long look.

“What?” he said, lifting his hands. “He started it.”

Elvira shook her head and looked at Olivia. “You’ll have to excuse my son,” she said.

Oh, God. Her son? This gorgeous creature was Cole’s mom?

“Seriously,” Cole said. “He started it.”

“Your father taught you how to walk away from a fight.” Elvira took Olivia’s hands in hers. “He also taught you manners, which you’ve clearly forgotten. I’m Amelia,” she said. “And you are?”

“Olivia Bentley.”

“You own that lovely boutique. It’s wonderful to meet you. I love your costume.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re certainly giving Jack Sparrow some class tonight.”

Cole laughed. “I think it’s fair to say she can outclass me on any night, Mom.” Again he slipped an arm around Olivia.

Did she look like she needed the support? Olivia wondered. She’d thought she was managing the terror pretty well. To be on the safe side, she flashed him the small, bullshit I’m-fine smile that had worked on every single person she’d ever let into her life.

But Cole wasn’t buying what she was selling, which she realized when he gently squeezed her waist like he was offering her comfort on top of support. She turned to Mrs. Donovan. “This house is beautiful. Is it yours?”

“Yes, and call me Amelia. It was built in 1905, and you wouldn’t believe how cranky it can get.” She patted Cole on the shoulder, which she had to reach up to do. “Cole helps me keep it fixed up. I don’t know what I’d do without him, especially since his dad died last year. He’s my rock.”

Thing Two was back, holding a two-year-old dressed up as the Lorax. “I want Ariel to tell us about when she knocked Cole into the ocean.”

Cole swore beneath his breath, and got smacked upside the head for it. “Watch your mouth,” Elvira said.

Cole straightened his dreads and bandana and slid his mom a look.

The toddler started fussing as a stunningly beautiful woman came up to them. She wore a long white column dress and dazzling bling. “Wait for me, I want to hear about the chick who got the best of Cole, too!”

“Cara,” Cole said to Olivia before turning back to his sister. “And who are you supposed to be?”

“One of the Real Housewives of Lucky Harbor.”

“But you’re not married,” Thing Two said.

Cara shrugged. “Details.” She smiled at Olivia. “Normally Cole counts on us to take him down a peg or two, so we appreciate the assist.”

“Maybe you should’ve dressed as the family comedienne,” Cole said.

There was something here, Olivia thought, a different dynamic between these two than the others. Tension, for one.

And a lingering anger and resentment that surprised Olivia.

Thing Two shoved her fussy, drooling two-year-old into Cole’s arms. “Mom’s kitchen sink isn’t draining again. Can you fix it?”

Cole bounced the Lorax up and down in his arms, making the toddler give a full belly giggle and drool some more. Olivia was having a similar reaction watching him easily handle and charm the baby.

“Grannie’s sink isn’t draining ’cause she keeps putting food into it,” Cole told the little guy, lifting him high in the air, “even though she’s still on a septic tank and not the sewer system.”

The boy gave another belly laugh that was utterly contagious, and Cole brought him in for a smacking kiss that had the toddler’s legs kicking in sheer joy.

Something deep within Olivia quivered.

“Why does he always stop crying for you?” Cindy demanded, and took the Lorax back.

The baby lifted his hands back out to Cole. “Mine! Mine Cole!”

Cole grinned at him. “You and me later, dude. We’ve got ‘nap’ written all over us.”

The baby cooed.

Cindy was staring at Olivia, head cocked. “You know,” she said. “You look really familiar. I feel like I’ve seen you before, somewhere.”

“Her shop,” Cole said while Olivia’s pulse kicked, knowing where that somewhere had been.

“No, not her shop,” Cindy said. “Somewhere else.”

“Cara, offer our guest something to drink,” Elvira said.

“What’s your poison?” Cara asked Olivia.

Olivia looked around and saw that everyone was drinking wine or beer. “I’ll have a beer, thank you.”

Clare pointed at Cole. “Keep her,” she said.

Cindy was still staring at Olivia. “You look familiar,” she said.

“I have that kind of a face,” Olivia said.

Cindy let the subject drop, though her gaze never left Olivia. She was close to figuring it out. On borrowed time, Olivia thought…

The party engulfed them then. There was a pool table, and some fierce games were going on there, and also on the two dartboards. Turned out the Donovans took their competition extremely seriously. That was okay, because so did she.

In college, she’d kept to herself, but had been drawn to both pool and darts. They’d appealed to her competitive nature, and also were games she could play without being on a team. She was good.

But Cole was better. He killed her at pool.

And then he had his ass handed to him at the dartboards.

By Olivia.

The crowd went nuts, and she was toasted by everyone in the family for keeping Cole humble.

Cole ignored them all and good-naturedly high-fived her, and then shocked her by dipping her low over his arm and kissing the hell out of her.

They were separated for a while after that. Cindy’s husband grabbed Cole for another game, and Olivia found herself at the bar with someone dressed up as an orc, helping restock. Afterward, she grabbed two more beers and went in search of Cole.

She didn’t find him in the living room or the courtyard, where people were milling and dancing. He wasn’t in the den, either, or in the large kitchen that was filled with every sort of kitchen appliance known to man, along with the personal signs of a big family. Family pictures decorated the fridge, and then there was stuff scattered over the counters, including a stack of mail, empty food containers, a cat sniffing around in the sink, and…

Cole and Cara’s voices, coming from…

The pantry?

“I said I would,” Cara was saying, sounding irritated. “Happy? You’ve finally worn me down. I’m telling Mom everything.”

“When?” came Cole’s voice. “
When
are you going to come clean with everyone?”

“Jesus, Cole, you’re like a dog with a bone.”

“Or a pissed-off, tired-of-keeping-your-fucking-secret brother?” he asked.

“Oh, get off your high horse,” Cara snapped. “You’re one to talk.”

“We’ve had this conversation.
I’m
not lying to everyone I care about.”

“No, of course not. You’re better than that, right? Your world is black and white, right and wrong. There’s a clear line drawn, and if someone crosses it, you’re done with them.”

“Jesus, dramatic much?” he asked. “Your costume’s fitting tonight.”

“Whatever.”

“Cara, look at me.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

“Shut up, smart-ass,” he said. “I’m here bitching you out. Does that seem like I’m done with you?”

Olivia shook herself, realized she was eavesdropping, and crossed the room to tell them she was standing right there, but by the time she poked her head into the pantry, they were hugging. She jerked back out of sight, leaving the kitchen to stand in the hallway, both uncomfortable at interfering and incredibly moved by their relationship, which seemed…real. More real than anything she’d ever had with her own sister.

Too late she realized Cara had stepped out of the pantry and was now right in front of her. Damn. Way too late to make it look like she was doing anything other than listening in on a private conversation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“The more the merrier in this house of crazy,” Cara said. “You like him, right?”

Olivia shot a startled glance toward the pantry. “Oh. Well…I—”

Cara smiled. “Yeah. You do.” She started to pass by Olivia, but then stopped and met her gaze. “Thanks for coming with him,” she said. “It’s nice to see him smiling.”

And then she was gone.

Olivia sucked in a breath and thought about how close the siblings were. About how the concept was both alien and yet something she yearned for with all her heart and soul.

She wasn’t used to this sort of group dynamic, hadn’t been for a long time. But suddenly she missed the feeling of being on a set, the family sense of the crew.

Because that’s what this felt like to her, one big, happy set.

Only this couldn’t be canceled when ratings tanked. This was Cole’s real life.

Which reminded her how different they were. She couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to be a part of a family like this, one that stuck, that stayed no matter what, whose members loved each other and all their individual faults.

Unconditionally.

They weren’t dependent on each other financially. They each had their own jobs and took care of themselves.

But they also took care of each other.

Willingly.

They loved each other.

A hand slipped into hers. Cole. He smiled and drew her back into the kitchen, where he pressed something in her hand.

A napkin.

Which was when she realized she had tears on her cheeks.

“Hey,” he said softly. “We overwhelming you with our obnoxiousness?”

She blew her nose. “No. I’ve got something in my eye is all.”

He smiled with such understanding that she nearly cried some more. “We’re harmless,” he promised. “Well, mostly.”

He was about as harmless as a python. “You’ve got a pretty great family,” she said. She was trying to wrap her head around that while reminding herself that this wasn’t her future, much as she might secretly love it to be.

Because she’d lied to him.

“Great?” Cole asked. “Or terrifying?”

“Great.”

He looked at her for a beat and then backed her into the pantry, pressed in close, and shut the door at his back. “You look like you need a moment.” He leaned against a shelving unit filled to the gills with cans and bins and spices. His pose was relaxed, his smile easy, his eyes appreciative.

“We can’t be in here,” she said. “Your mother—”

“Knows her son is an adult.”

She stared at him. “But…”

“I’m the youngest,” he said. “Do you really think there’s anything I can do to shock her that one of my sisters hasn’t already done? And besides, she’s the consummate pro. She’d never get mad at a guest. And you’re a pro at this social thing, too,” he said. “You really know how to charm a guy’s family.”