His voice drops into a lower, softer range. “No, but it would probably make you blush.”

I pause. My face feels warm, but pleasantly so. It occurs to me that, no matter how much I avoid him, no matter how wrong I know he is for me, he is going to be nearly impossible to resist.

Dammit!

“Enjoy your day, Olivia. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

With that, he hangs up, leaving me lying bonelessly on my bed, lost in thoughts of what it would be like to stop fighting it.

********

I hear voices as soon as I get out of the shower, which is unusual. Marissa’s screech is easily and disturbingly identifiable. The raised voice that surprises me, however, belongs to Nash. I creep to the door and crack it the tiniest bit, turning my head and pressing my ear to it.

You are a shameless, creepy eavesdropping hussy.

I stifle a giggle. Apparently I don’t cut myself any slack. I pulled out the hussy card.

“You can’t just spring something like this on me at the last minute! I already made plans and I don’t even have a new dress!” I can tell she’s still trying to keep her calm, which is a testament to how much she likes and, therefore, tries to deceive Nash. I’m not sure how much she’s actually deceiving him, though. It would be interesting to see how long he’d stick around if she started showing her true colors.

“If I’d known I would be back, I would’ve said something sooner. I wanted to surprise you.” Nash’s voice is raised only enough to speak over Marissa’s loud whining.

“Well, now what am I supposed to do? I can’t cancel on Daddy. He’s already—”

“It’s not a big deal,” Nash offers soothingly. “I can take someone else.”

There’s a long pause filled with enough tension for me to perceive it through a mostly-closed door.

Back up, Nash! She’s about to blow!

“Who did you have in mind?”

Her voice is like ice. I wonder if Nash knows that sound and what it means.

“I didn’t have anyone particular in mind, as I had no idea you wouldn’t be able to go. I’m sure I can find someone last minute, though. No need to worry.”

I almost laugh out loud. No need to worry? I bet Marissa is fuming.

I can almost smell the smoke from her overworked brain as she tries to think of someone who will be zero competition for her, someone who is trustworthy, but also someone who is enough of a loser not to already have plans on such short notice.

“What about Olivia? I’m sure she’d be happy to go, especially since you’ve done so much for her.”

I know my mouth is wide open and there is the look of grave insult on my face. I can feel it.

Ohmigod! I’m the loser!

“I appreciate the suggestion, but she works weekends, doesn’t she?”

“If she took the job with Cash, who knows what her schedule will be?”

“Well, I’m not waking her up to ask her. I think she worked last night, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but she won’t mind. I’ll ask her.”

I hear Nash start to say something, but the way it’s cut off makes me think Marissa has already walked off. I close the door silently and haul ass to the bathroom, as though I’ve just gotten out of the shower, which I technically have.

“Olivia?” Marissa calls, knocking once loudly and then entering. She doesn’t even wait for me to give her permission.

I bite back a snarl.

Witch!

“In here,” I call sharply.

The door is cracked and I see her practically stomp across the room. She pushes the door open. There’s a nasty look on her face. She wastes no time with niceties. “Do you have to work tonight? If not, I need you to go to an art exhibition with Nash. You owe him.”

It’s just like Marissa to jump right in with the heavy artillery, like guilt and extortion.

I’m so proud to be related to the devil’s mistress.

Carefully suppressing the urge to snort, I answer her.

“As a matter of fact, I’m off tonight. I can’t go, though. I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything to wear to a fancy function like that.”

She brushes me off with a wave of her hand. “You can wear something of mine. I’m sure we can make do.”

I’d just heard her complain about not having had time to buy a new dress for the event, yet she’s perfectly content to send me in…whatever.

“As long as Nash doesn’t care what I look like…”

Marissa laughs in her demeaning little way. “Olivia, I’m sure Nash won’t give you a second thought.”

I’m gonna be honest. I see red. Red, dammit! And it’s in this very moment that I decide I’m going to knock everyone’s socks off, especially Nash’s. Marissa will rue the day…

Even if I have to pull a Pretty in Pink and sew my own effing dress in seven minutes flat.

All this is taking place internally. On the outside, I smile sweetly at Marissa. “Well, in that case I’d be happy to.”

She turns around and walks away without so much as a thank you or kiss my ass. When I hear her tell Nash that I’ll go and that she’ll do her best to make sure I’m presentable, I can’t help but wonder if I could get away with stabbing her cold, cold heart with an ice pick.

For that, I might win the Nobel Peace Prize. Or, bare minimum, a call from the Vatican, thanking me.

This time, I don’t bother to hide my snicker.

CHAPTER TWELVE - Nash

As I wait for Olivia to come out of her bedroom, I can’t help but feel a little ashamed. I shouldn’t be looking forward to spending the evening with her as much as I am.

Yet I am. And there’s just no denying it.

“Nash?” I hear Olivia call. I turn toward her bedroom. I can see the door from where I’m standing in the living room. It’s cracked just enough for me to hear her, but not see her.

“Yes?”

“Promise me that if I’ll embarrass you in this dress, you’ll just go without me. It won’t hurt my feelings. I swear.”

“Olivia, it doesn’t matter what—”

“Promise me right now or I’m not coming out at all.”

She’s stubborn? Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed that. But actually, I kinda like it.

I laugh. “Okay, fine. I promise that if I think you’ll embarrass me, I’ll go without you.”

The door closes and then there’s a long pause before it swings all the way open. What I see takes my breath.

Marissa is taller than Olivia. Thinner, too. But Olivia is curvier. Much curvier. And every single one is displayed to absolute perfection in the dress she’s wearing.

I think I’ve seen Marissa in it before, and she looked great. But not great like this.

The material is some kind of thin, almost sheer stuff in dark red. It flutters in the air that stirs as the door comes to a rest against the stopper with a muffled thump. Olivia stands still and lets me appraise her before she starts toward me. I clench my jaw to keep my mouth from dropping open as I watch her. The wispy cloth clings to her body as she walks, outlining her form perfectly. She might as well be nude.

Holy mother, I wish she was.

I shake off the thought, knowing I can’t go forward tonight thinking things like that.

Think with the big head, man! Think with the big head!

She glides to a stop in front of me, all grace and luscious skin. Her bare chest and shoulders glow in the low light. I want to touch her, caress her, so much so that I ball my fingers into tight fists to keep them to myself.

“You look beautiful.” My voice sounds strained, even to my own ears.

Her face falls. “It’s too tight, isn’t it? I’m wearing taller heels to make the length right, but there’s nothing I can do about the rest.” I can see that she’s genuinely distressed, which makes me want to smile, although I don’t. That would be the wrong thing to do in front of an upset woman. “Marissa is so much thinner than me,” she says, one of her hands fluttering as she talks. “And I just don’t have anything that—”

I reach out and take her spastic hand, pressing the forefinger of my free hand to her lips. “Shhh.” She stops talking immediately. Yes, I could’ve shut her up a hundred different ways without touching her, but I figure this is better than kissing her, which is what I really want to do.

Good God, how I want to kiss her!

It takes me a few seconds to focus on something other than the way her lush lips parted just a little. It would be so easy to slide my fingertip between them, to feel the heat of her mouth, the wetness of her tongue.

I’m both surprised and irritated that I feel my tuxedo pants shrink a size in the crotch. I’ll have to be extra careful with this girl. I can’t remember the last time someone so thoroughly tested my restraint.

Actually, yes I can. It was Libby Fields in her tight little dress at the Homecoming dance in the ninth grade. I thought for sure if she sat in my lap and wiggled her ass one more time, I was going to explode like Mt. Saint Helens.

I didn’t, of course. But it was close. And this girl—this tiny, curvaceous, engaging, walking, talking contradiction—is working her way up to Libby Fields’s position very, very quickly, which is really saying something since I’m twenty-five, not fourteen.

I clear my throat. “Please don’t say another word. You look beautiful. In Marissa’s wildest dreams, she could never fill out that dress the way you do. I’ll be the envy of every guy in the whole damn place.” I smile to further make my point.

Although her brow doesn’t smooth entirely, I know she’s feeling better when she grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away. I can see the slight curve of her lips where she’s holding in a smile.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Really really?”

“Really really. Just remember, tonight you’re mine.”

It worries how much I like the sound of that, the thought of that.

Her grin fully forms and she releases my wrist to salute me. “Sir, yes sir.”

I love how playful she is. Such a nice change from Marissa, who’s always…well…who’s just not.

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” I say with a nod. “A woman who knows her place is beneath me. Oh, wait. That didn’t sound right,” I tease.

She laughs. “I’m beneath no man!” she replies harshly. Then, with a mischievous quirk to her mouth, she adds, “At least not without dinner and a drink first.”

“Ohhhh, so that’s how it’s gonna be! Because there’s a McDonald’s right across the street.”

I offer her my arm and she curls her fingers around the inside of my elbow. I know it’s ridiculous and juvenile, but I flex my bicep hoping she notices.

“Is that all it takes to get you to, ahem, come to attention?” she asks, suggestively sliding her eyes over me.

“I’m a twenty-five year old completing an internship at one of the most influential law firms in all of Atlanta. McDonald’s would never do it for me.” I stop at the door and open it, gesturing for her to precede me. “But now a look like the one you just gave me…”

Her cheeks turn a delicate pink and she drops her eyes shyly. It makes me want to tear that dress off her with my teeth.

“Colonel, just what is it you’re insinuating?”

“Colonel? A salute like that and all I get is a Colonel?”

“I don’t know. Have you earned enough stripes to be a General?”

We stroll leisurely to my car. “Depends on how you think someone earns their stripes.” Two little dimples pop out on either side of her mouth where she’s trying to control her smile.

“Oh, I guess the same way most guys earn their stripes,” she says, swinging the red purse attached to her wrist, trying to act nonchalant.

“Baby, if that’s your definition, I’d be a four-star General.”

She bursts into laughter. I can tell she wasn’t expecting me to say that. But I’m so glad I did. Hearing her laugh is like listening to the best kind of symphony.

I’m a little disappointed when we reach the car. I could really just walk and talk and tease her all night long.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Olivia

The silence in the car is only slightly tense. Well, maybe “tense” is the wrong word. For me, it feels…charged. Sexually charged. I wonder if Nash feels the same way.

Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he flirts with all the girls like this.

I think on that for a second. The prospect is both disappointing and aggravating. But I honestly don’t think that’s the case. It could just be my ego talking, but I don’t think he’s like that with just anybody.

At least I hope not.

For some reason, Nash seems like the faithful sort.

I’d be genuinely surprised if he’s ever cheated on Marissa.

I bet he’s an actual good guy. The kind that I desperately need in my life. The thing of it is, he’ll never be mine because he’s a good guy. By nature alone, a good guy would never cheat on his girlfriend, hence the impossibility of anything happening between Nash and me. Even if they were to break up, he’d probably be too nice a guy to hurt her like that, by dating her cousin.

As Shawna would say, that sucks major ass!

“Did you solve it?”

Nash’s deep, heavenly voice interrupts my troubled thoughts.

“Solve what?”

“World hunger.”

I know I must be looking at him like he’s sprouted wings or a third eye. He looks from the road to me a couple of times before he starts laughing.