I left the dishes. I relaxed. And over two and a half more episodes, I watched a lone, ex-special forces, ex-CIA operative and his gay, deaf hacker sidekick get closer to saving the world from a lunatic who managed to get his hands on five nuclear warheads.

They got so much closer, the next four nights, along with the doc.u.mentary I chose (which, frankly, was not nearly as fascinating), we watched the rest of the season.

Plans for nuclear obliteration of London, Tokyo, Rome, New York and Sydney were thwarted.

And I had to admit, when they were safe, I was relieved.

Not only that they were safe.

But that the program had been picked up for a second season.

11:54 Friday Night I planted my chin smack in the middle of Nick's pecs and lifted my eyes to his.

He had his head propped on several pillows, his neck bent and his eyes were already on me.

"Did they have casualties?" I asked.

I watched his head give a slight jerk as his brows inched together.

"What?" he asked back.

"The...your..." I felt funny but for some reason persevered. "Your boys. You were talking to one at the club the week before last. You spoke of casualties. Was...were..." I wanted to trail off and let it go, but like before, I couldn't stop myself from pus.h.i.+ng forward. "Did it all come out okay?"

His lips. .h.i.tched up.

"Is Olivia Shade asking me a question, sharing concern about my business and my boys so, by extension, doing the same about me?" he teased.

I looked away as I s.h.i.+fted to get my hands to the bed to push up, murmuring, "My mistake. Time to leave."

I didn't push up.

My back hit the bed and I couldn't move because Nick was covering me at the same time grinning down at me.

"No casualties," he declared. "The reinforcements got there on time. The bad guys showed, saw they were f.u.c.ked, didn't try for the girl and instead retreated after my boys engaged. They were probably waiting for their own reinforcements. When they retreated, my team moved her out and put her in a different safe house. We found out her brother has a big mouth and that's how her first location was discovered. Now the job's done, she's safe and I got paid," he shared.

"I'm glad," I returned snappishly.

He didn't stop grinning, in fact, he started quietly laughing as he replied, "You sound it."

"Though, your story over, it's now really time for me to leave."

He stopped grinning and laughing.

"Get off me, Sebring," I ordered.

He studied me.

In the middle of doing it, he lifted a hand and trailed a finger down my hairline as I held my breath because that, like most everything from Nick, felt nice.

After that, without another word, he got off me.

We dressed.

He walked me to my Evoque.

We kissed hard and rough at my driver's side door.

I got in my car.

And in my rearview mirror I watched him jog up the steps to his place as I drove away.

Chapter Thirteen.

Beauty Bound Olivia 3:48 Thursday Afternoon "Just text the ingredients, Olivia," Nick said into my ear as I drove to the warehouse.

"I'll bring them," I returned.

"Babe, I'm goin' to the grocery store before I hit home."

"And I have to drive to your place before I hit your home so I can stop by the grocery store."

"No need for us both to go."

This was true.

"You're always feeding me," I pointed out.

"Yeah, that's the rule. Your a.s.s is in my house, I feed you."

I made a turn, muttering, "You have a lot of rules."

"My a.s.s is in your house, you make the rules."

It was only the second time in our time together he'd mentioned being at my house.

I felt a thrill at the very thought.

Then it felt like I hit a wall with a painful thud when I remembered that'd never happen.

"Maybe we should chat about that later," I murmured before saying louder, "But I'm making dessert tonight and I'm buying the ingredients for the dessert I'm making."

"f.u.c.k, got another call comin' in that I gotta take so I can't continue this stupid f.u.c.kin' argument with you," he replied semi-distractedly.

"Which means I'm bringing dessert."

"Whatever. Six?"

"Six, Sebring. See you then."

"Later, Olivia."

We hung up.

I saw the warehouse and felt my stomach go from warm and happy at talking with Nick to roiling with sick.

It was the first time I'd been back since the whole thing went down with David. This was because it was easier doing David's job at his office in the Denver Technical Center, known by locals such as myself as DTC. It was also because I hated the warehouse and I hated my father, who only had one office, that being in the warehouse. Therefore working elsewhere I could avoid him a lot easier.

I was parking in the spot that had my name on it when my phone rang again.

I looked to it in hopes Nick was done with his other call and had called me back so we could continue our ridiculous f.u.c.king argument about dessert.

It wasn't Nick.

It was Dustin, the fixup my mother perpetrated.

I sighed.

Dustin and I had spoken, just enough for him not to share with his mother (who would share with my mother) that I was blowing him off, not enough for me to actually fix a date with him.

However, this was something he was pus.h.i.+ng more for as the days went by, our conversations became longer, his interest in seeing me again was more firmly communicated and I was beginning to run out of excuses.

I was, indeed, busy at work. But mostly, I was f.u.c.king another guy (that being after we ate together and hung out together) who I preferred to spend time with so I didn't have time for Dustin.

I looked from my phone to the warehouse and decided one thing that annoyed me and reminded me my life really wasn't my own at a time.

I let the call go to voicemail.

I would find it was really not my day when I made my way up the stairs that were open to the large, loud loading area where many men were being loud while loading things and I nearly b.u.mped into Tommy at the top. This happened when I opened the door to enter the hall off which the offices were located.

"Liv," he murmured, not moving, his arm out to hold open the door.

"Tom," I replied, s.h.i.+fting to scoot by him.

He caught my arm.

I froze, my gaze cast to his hand on my arm.

I lifted it to him.

Even with the order I was giving with my eyes, he didn't let me go.

"We have to talk," he shared.

"We'll make a meeting," I replied.

His fingers tightened. "Not talk like that."

I raised my brows, allowing mild curiosity to infuse my features.

He got closer. "s.h.i.+t's gone down. I shared somethin' with you. Haven't seen you since. It's f.u.c.kin' with you, I know it and I gotta know you're good."

"I'm good," I a.s.sured him immediately, pulling at my arm in his hold.

"Liv-"

"Tom, let me go. I've got things I need to do."

He didn't let me go.

He kept hold of me with one hand as he let the door swing closed and lifted his other to lightly touch the marks on his face before he dropped it.

"I got a life to live and one choice how to live it, honey, but I gotta live it and you know I want kids," he shared gently, but albeit gently, they were things I already knew.

I knew he wanted kids because we were going to have kids. Three of them.

And none of them were going to be gangsters.

"Then it's good your wife is pregnant," I remarked.

His chin jerked into his neck.

"Now, unless you're intent on talking me into holding her baby shower, and just to remind you, she and I are not that close, I'd like you to let me go," I requested, pulling again at my arm.

He didn't let me go.

He got even closer.

This meant I got even more annoyed.

"I know you're hurting, Liv," he declared.

"I'm not hurting, Tom. I'm busy. Now let me go."

"There's s.h.i.+t we need to talk through, probably needed to talk through way before now but no matter the time that pa.s.sed, it was always too raw. But we can't avoid it anymore. And with things changing the way they are with the business, it could mean change between-"

"There's nothing we need to talk through," I interrupted. "There's just one thing you need to do and that's let me go."

"Honey-"