Chapter Twenty-Five

After having the tire repaired, the team was on the last leg of their task. As they drove past his house, Nutsbe saw two Iniquus vehicles pulling into his drive. One SUV would be left in place for Nutsbe, and the other would take the other Automotive guys back to Headquarters.

It was a complicated shuffle of vehicles.

His driver rounded the block and up Olivia's drive.

Since her garage was open, Nutsbe pointed. "How about you pull in there?" After they parked, the driver handed Nutsbe Olivia's keys and headed over the lawn to catch his ride.

"All right, Beowolf," Nutsbe turned to let Beowolf out. "We're going to see Olivia. And you're going on a blind date with Olivia's pupper, Henrietta." Nutsbe cleaned off the drool and then gathered the lead as Beowolf made his way out of the back, lifting one back leg and then the other to stretch and kick. "I expect you to be a gentleman."

Nutsbe strode up the walk and stood outside the raspberry door, pressing the bell that could be heard outside. The door color was even brighter and more obnoxious close-up, to the point of being comical. A tickle of laughter curled his lips as Olivia opened the door.

"Oh!" she said, stepping back. "You've changed already."

Nutsbe stood on the porch while Beowolf sniffed around and got comfortable. "I have a shower at my office, and I keep changes of clothes handy."

Olivia turned with a come-on-in swoop of her hand. "I'm obviously not as lucky." She walked down the hall past the formal living room on the right and the dining room on the left, decorated with simple lines and muted colors. She headed down the hall toward the back of the house. "How is it you have Beowolf with you? I thought he lived at the kennel?"

"He's having a sleepover, in case the docket updates, and we're on for the morning. It's just easier."

"I have dinner keeping warm in the oven." She stopped by a child's safety gate and squatted. "Hi, Beowolf." She scrubbed his sides. "Come meet Henrietta."

She let them sniff each other through the child gate.

Nutsbe noticed her suit jacket lying over Henrietta's bed.

"Still puke spewed," Olivia had followed his gaze. "I gave it to Henrietta before you came so she could smell you in her house and, luckily Beowolf, too. That way, she could get used to everyone's scents. My friend Jaylen did that when she brought her newborn home, and her pup immediately took to the baby."

"Seems to be working."

Nutsbe looked over at the TV. "Sumo wrestling?"

"Yup. Big fan."

"Really?"

"It's very satisfying, I think, to watch someone respectfully face an adversary, grab hold of them, and pitch them out of a ring." She sent him a smile. "Did you know that some sumo wrestlers eat up to seven thousand calories a day?" She raised her brows. "Yeah, they keep their weight up as part of their job. Interestingly, because of their workouts, they don't have visceral fat to make them unhealthy. I think about that whenever I sit down to a high-carb meal like tonight's. Carbs are stress relieving, sure, but since I'm not in the ring … If you don't mind, I'm going to leave you to monitor the dogs. I need to go upstairs to get cleaned up and changed out of these clothes." She laughed. "Sorry, that sounded very nineteen-forties Hollywood, ‘let me slip into something more comfortable.'" She affected a May West accent. Turning to the den, Olivia added, "Either way, that's exactly what I intend to do." Beowolf and Henrietta had curled up together on the rug. "I think they're okay. If you want to wash up before dinner, the bathroom is on the right." She pointed. "Make yourself at home." She held her hands wide, inviting him to go where he wanted. "I'll be right back."

Nutsbe found a place on the couch. Moments later, the shower was running overhead. It took considerable self-discipline to stop himself from imagining a naked Olivia with suds snaking down her water-warmed body. He reached over, grabbed the coffee table book, and focused on those pictures instead.

When she came down, her hair was still a bit damp. Dressed in black leggings, with an overly large rose-colored sweatshirt, she had brightly colored hand-knit socks on her feet.

When she saw him focusing on them, Olivia held up a foot. "My Aunt Jo made these for me."

"Thanks for having me for dinner." He stood. "You sure you want me to stay? It's been a hell of a day," Nutsbe said.

"I'd like you to stay. Mostly for the company," she wandered toward the kitchen, "but there's also my childhood compulsion." She smiled over her shoulder at him. "Even if I'm not doing the cooking myself, it's what we do in my family. Sick? Here's food. Sad? Here's food. Celebrating? Here's food. That way, we don't have to find the right words." She pressed her lips together and looked unhappy with what she'd just said. "Let me try that again. Thank you for your company. Also, if it's not food, I don't know how to thank you for all the ways you've made things better for me and Henrietta over the last couple of days, even though I seem to be the pivot point for putting you in bad situations. I feel both guilty and humbled."

"You're okay, Olivia," Nutsbe said gently. "It's okay."

She blinked at him.

"Just as long as you aren't crying. Everything's okay."

"To that last point, you need to brace yourself," Olivia said, moving to the counter, opening the cupboard, and reaching for the dinner plates. "I got word we're back in court tomorrow morning. I called Candace, and she said she'll go if Beowolf is there." She handed them off to Nutsbe, who put them on the table. "She has a subpoena to show up, but that doesn't mean she won't run away if she feels too vulnerable. And she is key to this case."

"I'm glad she feels Beowolf is a help." He put the plates on the table. "I'll head to her house in the morning." He searched along the line of drawers. "Where do you keep the cutlery?"

"Here in this drawer." Olivia bumped her hip against the counter and stepped out of his way. "Napkins below."

"Hopefully, there will be no tears tomorrow, something else instead—righteous indignation, fury. Those are good emotions to have."

Olivia dumped the salad from the takeout container into a salad bowl. "Can you get the dressing? Fridge. Top shelf, right."

Nutsbe turned as she leaned over the oven to pull out the lasagna pan and enjoyed a momentary glance at her heart-shaped ass before turning back to set the table.

They sat, and for a long, comfortable time, they ate in silence.

"Where are your freckles from?" Nutsbe stood to take their empty plates to the sink.

"You mean DNA-wise? No idea. I"m a mutt." She wiped her mouth. "What about you? Where is Crushed from?"

"It was Havaror," Nutsbe returned for the salad dressing, then headed to the fridge, "an old Norse name."

"I don't get it." She canted her head. "How did Havaror become Crushed?"

Nutsbe scratched his thumb along his jaw. "The family story goes that on Ellis Island when they asked my many greats grandfather for his name, he didn't understand, so he said the last English word he'd heard. We think someone might have yelled, ‘I'm getting crushed!' as they left the boat. And so when they asked him something, he just said that."

"Crushed." She looked at him, processing. "Crushed?" Olivia laughed. "That's spectacular. That's an amazing story. Which do you like better, Havaror or Crushed?"

He winked. "I think my many-greats grandfather crushed it when picking a new name."

"Cute." She stood and pushed her chair, turning to stand in front of Nutsbe. "But you know for sure it was Havaror?" Her head tipped back to hold his gaze.

"We have the family papers," he said.

"Havaror. I wonder what it means. Something like thatcher or blacksmith?"

"It means guardian defender."

"Of course it does." She reached out and put a hand on his arm. Took a step closer as she laughed. "Oh, wait. You're not kidding, are you?"

"Nope." He lifted a lock of her hair and twirled it around his finger. "I like the smell of your shampoo. It smells fresh, like the islands and cocktails on the beach."

"I—" She smiled.

Nutsbe had wanted to taste that smile since he'd met her.

"My last name is Gladstone–I don't think I have a story—." She blinked long lashes.

He was close enough now to see the gold and navy flecks in her blue eyes. Her lids closed, and as she pressed up onto her toes, her breasts brushed along his chest. His dick was damned aware of her warm pressure, the softness of her curves. He moved his hands to her hips, wrapping them in his grip and pulling her in tighter. As she lifted higher, bringing her mouth closer to his, Nutsbe lowered his head and slowly swept his lips over hers, feeling the tingle of the barely touching kiss.

Olivia gave the tiniest gasp, a sip of air.

Her hands splayed across his back, holding him in place, pulling him tighter, waiting for more.

Nutsbe glided his palms up her sides, dipping at her tiny waist. Brushing her hair from her face, he cupped her cheeks.

Once again, he skimmed his lips over hers. The soft warmth teased his senses.

Pressing her hips to him, Olivia trapped his cock against her stomach, humming a needy "mmm" that made his entire body vibrate with expectation.

Her eyes shut; her breath was feathery against his skin.

Tangling his fingers into her hair, tugging gently until she moaned. This time, he held the kiss until her mouth opened to him. Supporting her head in the palm of his hand, he deepened the pressure, his tongue finding hers and letting her decide what felt good.

Need washed over Nutsbe's skin.

It was a disorienting kiss. This kiss was velvet and starlight. It was the kiss of belonging, a kiss that defied any expectation that he might have entertained. It was both lust and redemption. He wanted to explore those sensations and understand why this kiss was different than all the others he'd had.

And he also didn't want her to think he was a horny teen without finesse or self-control. He couldn't imagine that she was experiencing the euphoria that sang through his body. So he pulled his emotions inward.

Heart racing, Nutsbe lowered his forehead to hers. It was the best he could do while he regained some semblance of emotional balance.

And Nutsbe was gratified that he wasn't the only one thrown for a loop. Olivia moved her hands to his biceps and clung unsteadily.

"Oh," she exhaled, raising her head and blinking at him.

He wasn't to a place yet where words would come. He tried to read Olivia's eyes, where emotions swirled.

And then, she, too, seemed to retract the surface emotions. "Uhm. Thank you. That was nice. Really nice." She lowered herself to stand flatfooted. She seemed to be listening to her inner dialogue. What she shared with Nutsbe was, "But I have to tell you my life is complicated right now—well, usually. But, in particular, right now." Her hands moved from his arms to lay flat against his chest—both connected and distancing.

Surely, she could feel his heart thrumming under her fingers.

"Yeah, I got that impression." Nutsbe struggled to sound casual. He needed to accept the boundaries she was nailing into place.

"So you"d understand if I said that was a really nice kiss. Really nice."

"I agree, really nice." This was the brush-off.

"Okay." She took a step back but left her hands where they were. "So we understand each other?"

"Olivia, it"s okay." He smiled. He wanted her to experience zero pressure from him. God knew she was right. After what Kennedy had shared about her involvement with terrorists, the case she was trying, the divorce from a fugitive, the sniper—who had the mental space for a new relationship? He was proud of her that she knew her capacity. "We can be friends and neighbors who share a backyard. Oh, hey." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the radio collar for Henrietta. "My next day off, I'll put in a doggy door and teach Henrietta how to go in on her own. On rainy days, you can send her over to my yard to play without you getting wet. She just needs to learn a command, and she can get herself through the gate and stay safely inside until you come to get her."

Olivia dropped her hands. "Nutsbe, please stop being so nice." She took another step back. "Stop with your problem-solving and your consideration." Her hands came up, and she shook them. "I"m not used to it, and it"s throwing me off balance."

"Okay." Nutsbe slid the collar back into his pocket.

"No." Olivia put her hands on her head and spun in a circle, then stopped and closed her eyes. Nutsbe waited as she took a breath. It had been a hell of a day for her. And he had no intentions of adding to her mental load.

When she focused on him again, she said. "Thank you for the collar. I"d really like that collar, and I really like you."

"And you really liked the kiss." He smiled. He got it. At least, he thought he did. She was asking for time. His system was doing weird tumbles and flips.

"Yes, I did," she said, lowering her hands to grip them in front of her.

"But it"s bad timing." He sent her a slow smile and a shrug. She really was just so damned beautiful.

"That"s it?" Olivia asked, her voice bright with shock.

"Was there something more I should say?" Nutsbe slid his hands into his pockets, hoping to make his pants lay flat. His dick hadn't gotten the message that it wasn't playtime.

"Yes, of course. You should tell me that I"m losing out. You're supposed to ask me if I understand how spectacular you are–which, by the way, I do. You should be asking if I know what a catch you are. Then, when I don't change my mind, you're supposed to escalate to ‘you're a frigid c-word.'"

Nutsbe's hands curled into fists. "Men say that to you?"

"Men have been pulling that from the beginning of time." She pulled out a chair and fell into it. "I thought you had sisters."

"I think they keep those conversations from me." Yeah, sitting would help. Nutsbe moved to his chair as he said, "I might be overly protective of my family."

"Tad bit?" She winked.

"I remember my sisters talking about a scene in that book they all like—Pride and Prejudice."

"I love that novel."

"Funny, I"ve never mentioned that book without the woman I"m speaking to saying that." Nutsbe smiled and popped his brows. "I know the scene that proves your point."

"Yeah?"

"The weaselly guy was at the breakfast table. The whole family had to leave so he could have privacy to ask the woman—"

"Elizabeth."

"Right. To marry him. But he was doing it like a foregone conclusion that she'd say yes. And he couldn't fathom that she said no."

"That scene, and then later on, the not-so-weaselly hero, Mr. Darcy, did the same thing, only worse."

"How could it be worse?" Nutsbe asked. "I didn't finish watching the movie."

"Darcy basically said, ‘You're beneath me. Everyone would be horrified by our betrothal, but I'm willing to put aside your inferiority.'"

"Inferiority?" Nutsbe's brows drew sharply together. "Are you kidding me right now? The hero character said that?"

"He told Elizabeth that despite her inferiority, he was willing to marry her because he loved her most ardently."

Ardently, that was the word. That was what happened; the sensation of that kiss was ardor. That's what that word felt like, all-consuming. Nutsbe pressed his lips together as he studied Olivia's face, the friendliness of her freckles, the intelligence in her eyes. "And women like this book? Wow, what a jackass."

"Right?" She traced her finger over his knuckles, then slid her hand into his, looking down at their laced fingers. "I think women like that book because Darcy realizes how much of a jerk he had been. He was contrite, and he worked hard to redeem himself." She looked up and held Nutsbe's gaze. "Which, in my experience, almost never happens. So there's that."

They sat there looking into each other's eyes, grinning like idiots.

Nutsbe wanted to pull her into his lap, to feel her head on his shoulder, to wrap her in his arms and hold her tightly. Yeah, protectively.

Something genuine, and scary, and perfect was going on between them.

And Nutsbe hoped against hope that whatever big and bad was out there, showing up in their lives, it would aim directly at him and not at Olivia.