Olivia
I head out into the early morning sun, a coffee in each hand, and a smile on my face. August sits on the front porch stairs, working on a greasy metal part that he nearly drops when I approach. He looks me up and down, and I should have the good grace to be embarrassed because my hair is mussed from sleep and I’m dressed only in a robe and a silk chemise with matching tiny little shorts. The sash on my bathrobe has come loose so as I bend to hand him his mug, I’m essentially giving him an eyeful. His fingers brush mine as he takes his cup, but he doesn’t bring it to his lips. He just watches me, his gaze skimming down my body in a way that forces my heart to beat double.
Josiah is likely still sound asleep upstairs. Beau, too, since he can be found wherever his best friend is. Bettina is inside, watching Frozen and singing loudly along with Anna, and it’s this reminder, and only this reminder, that stops me from climbing into her big brother’s lap and easing some of this sexual tension between us.
August clears his throat and I sit down beside him, pulling my robe closed once my hands are free. He goes back to the part he’s working on, and I glance out over the yard with its oak-lined drive. It’s warm already, and I have this urge to remove my robe altogether, but I don’t. It slips off one shoulder anyway, pulled by the weight of my ass sitting on it. I lean forward, resting my chin on my knees. I feel August’s gaze on me, and a beat later he reaches out and his greasy fingertips brush across my skin in a feather-light touch that I never thought a man as large as him was capable of.
The air leaves my lungs in a rush, and my nipples form hard peaks that would be impossible to hide beneath the silk of my pajamas. Warm fingers slide the strap from my skin, and I close my eyes and bite my lip hard, and then Zora barks so loudly it about takes my ear off as she tears down the stairs and around the side of the house. August’s touch is gone, and I might have believed it never happened at all except for the dark smudge of grease on my shoulder and strap.
“Zora, come!” August climbs to his feet, almost knocking over our coffee, and Betty starts barking the way she does when she gets excited. A beat later, Dalton rounds the side of the house, and I barely have enough time to get my robe tied before I’m face to face with the man. Good Lord. It’s not even eight a.m.
“Dalton. Are you okay?” Before I’ve even said the words, I know he’s not, but he nods anyway. We missed him yesterday, but I know how he gets around crowds. August and Jake aren’t comfortable in them either, but they both have a dog to take the edge off.
“Thought I’d come by and s-s-see if you need me to be at the s-s-shelter today?” The stutter is new. I’ve never heard him do that before, and it’s alarming.
August notices too, and we share a worried look. “On a Sunday?”
“Dogs s-s-still need feedin’. But I-I-I-I should go, you’re . . .” He points to my robe.
“You know what? I’m gonna run upstairs and get changed real quick, but you should come inside. I was just about to make pancakes, and I have a surprise for you.”
“No, I j-j-just wanted to help. I d-d-don’t like s-s-surprises—”
“You’ll like this one. Come have a seat.”
His shoulders sag a little, and he bows his head. He won’t look at me, but I glance at August, silently hoping he’ll come to my aid here and keep the man in place until I can get to the bottom of why he walked all this way at eight a.m. on a Sunday to see if he could help. Dalton has been at that shelter every day—bar yesterday—without fail, rain, hail or shine. He even finished up the gardens and helped August clear the trash in preparation for our opening day while Josiah and I were laid up on the couch with our war wounds.
August finally catches on and nods imperceptibly. “Hey Dalton, you’re good with engines, right? You wanna help me with this?”
I smile, because Dalton knows as well as I do that August knows a thing or two about putting together that old tractor, but he just nods and gives his fellow Marine his rapt attention. I stand and dart inside, ignoring the wide-eyed looks Josiah and Beau give me in my robe as they’re coming down the stairs.
Beau opens his mouth, and I glare. “Don’t say it.”
He grins, and Josiah punches him hard on the arm. “Ow! What the fuck, man?”
“Language!” I snap. “Go set the table ready for breakfast. I’m making pancakes.” I get nothing but blank faces in return. “Both of you, and set a sixth place. Dalton’s here too.”
“Jesus, she’s a slave driver,” Beau mutters.
“Shut up,” Josiah, and I say at once, and he puts his hand out to fist bump me. I love this kid, and as obnoxious and disgusting as Beau can be at times, I love him too. Sometimes I find it hard to reconcile my boys with the teenage delinquents who destroyed my shelter; they’re both so different. They’re young men now, sometimes polite and always respectful, and I have August to thank for that.
I have August to thank for a lot of things, not least of which is the way my ovaries jump up and down waving their tiny little ovary hands in the air saying, “pick me,” when he looks at me. I wish there were time for a cold shower because I could use one after yet another missed opportunity to climb into his lap, grab hold of his broad shoulders, and ride him like a champion rodeo rider.
I hurry into my room and change into a summer dress that covers all the essentials without making me too hot, and I run a brush through my tangled hair, tying it back with an elastic before scooping Xena up from off my bed and heading downstairs. I take Xena out on the porch and hand her lead to Dalton. She’s not wearing it, of course, and it takes him a beat before he understands. “Is i-i-it—”
“She’s all yours. We need to do a little training for both of you, but we’ll start on Monday when you come into the shelter. For now, the two of you should just get to know one another.”
“I-I-I-I don’t k-n-n-now what to say.”
“Say you’ll stay for pancakes,” I tell him with a broad smile. He nods, and I turn to head inside.
“Oliv-v-v-ia? T-t-thank y-you.”
“You’re more than welcome, Dalton.”
In the kitchen, the boys have set the table just as I asked, and they sit around now with Bettina eagerly awaiting pancakes before I’ve even had time to pull the bowl and ingredients from the cupboard and pantry. Josiah gets to his feet and takes the eggs and milk from the refrigerator without being asked. I smile at him, and he retreats to the table again at Bettina’s insistence so he can read the new Frozen book to her. He helped me at the market yesterday after we closed the shelter, and he purchased the thing with his own money. My heart had literally melted right there at the checkout, and I’d fought back the tears. The kid had nothing to his name but the clothes on his back, and the few items that I had put in the buggy for him, and here he was spending what little money he had on a present for a four-year-old girl who’d lost her parents.
Before I’m done with the pancakes, August and Dalton come inside, and after I yell at them both to wash up before they sit at the table, they join us as I start plating up food for the kids. When I’m sat at the table between Bettina and Josiah and across from August with a beautiful German Shepherd standing guard by her owner, a piglet tearing around the room barking for scraps, and a Spaniel wagging her tail and nudging my leg with her nose, I can’t help but smile.
Magnolia Springs may have started out as my own worst nightmare, but somewhere along the way, it became a dream. This is my family. With all its ticks and idiosyncrasies, and despite its flaws and imperfections, it’s perfect.
I blink back tears and stare down at my plate so no one will see how ridiculously girly I’m being, but when I glance up, August’s gaze burns into mine and without a word, he leans across the table and hands me a clean napkin. I take it with an embarrassed laugh. No one says a word. They just continue shoveling pancakes into their mouths, and this time when I stare at the big hulking Marine across from me, there’s a smile that plays on his lips. One that I desperately want to wipe off . . . with my mouth on his.
Damn Marine.