We walk through the house into the kitchen, where a woman who looks exactly like I imagine my wife will in twenty years stands behind a large, white-marble island, opening a pink bakery box for Knight to take a cookie.
“Mom,” Brynlee warns as Knight nicks the cookie and hauls ass out of the kitchen.
The girls’ mom bats her eyes just like Olivia does. “One cookie won’t hurt him.”
Her words might be for Brynlee, but her eyes are bouncing between Olivia and me.
“Hi, Mom,” Olivia utters, already sounding exhausted. I’m beginning to think this is a constant state of being for her.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Her gaze settles on me. “Introduce me, Liv.”
“Mom...” Olivia walks into my side and rests a hand on Maggie’s back. “This is Logan and Maggie.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. St. James.” Fucking hell, I sound like a ten-year-old.
Scarlet arches a perfectly shaped brow before softening as she looks at Maggie, who’s dropped her head back to my chest.“We’re not that formal in this house, Logan. You can call me Scarlet.” She rounds the island, stopping in front of us and kissing Olivia’s cheek before reaching her hands out in front of Maggie. “Hello, sweet girl,” she coos at my daughter. “Don’t you look just like your daddy.”
And to all our surprises, Maggie reaches her arms out toward my new mother-in-law and goes willingly into Scarlet’s hold.
Let’s hope this is a sign for a good night.
Nope.
Not a sign.
“So, Logan.” Cade St. James, former MMA world heavyweight champion, leans back in his chair at the head of the table, glaring. I honestly expected Olivia’s mom to be the hard ass after listening to everything she’s said about the woman, but Maggie apparently softened her right up. Cade, on the other hand, seems determined to hate me. “Livvy hasn’t told us how you two met.”
“Daddy,” my wife sighs, and I realize just how fucking screwed I am.
She called himDaddy.
One day, when Maggie is old enough to date, or God fucking forbid, brings home some asshole she married in Vegas, I’m going to want to rip the fucker’s balls from his body and shove them down his throat. So I get it. The need to hate me. But damn, it’s sure as shit not helping right about now.
“You haven’t, Olivia. You haven’t told us anything,” Cade adds as Scarlet feeds Maggie a pink cupcake as she sits happily in her lap, with Knight playing peek-a-boo, clearly enjoying making his newest cousin laugh.
“We met in college,” Olivia tries to appease her father, like she needs to protect me.
Fake or not, I don’t need her protection.
“The first time I ever saw your daughter was in our public speaking class. It was the first of many times she impressed the hell out of me?—”
“Oh,” Scarlet interrupts me with a keen eye. “And when was the second?”
“A week later,” I tell them all, not bothering to take a breath. “She was reading a book at a party my brother dragged me to. Everyone else was blowing off steam,” I tell them, careful of my words in front of the kids. “But Liv was sitting in the corner of the room, her phone glued to her face.”
Olivia turns to me, shock in her mossy green eyes. “You thought I was doom scrolling and made fun of me for having my face buried in my phone.”
“You put me in my place so damn fast, then showed me the book on your phone. Said it reminded you of home. You never felt the need to conform to what others expected you to be doing, and when Rafe threw a plastic ball at you to get you to play beer pong, you threw it back and hit him in the eye.” She was so fucking pretty. Tight jeans, a tighter sweater, and knee-high leather boots with white ruffle socks peeking out the top.
“Good job,” Brynlee’s husband, Deacon, laughs.
“I was aiming for his nuts,” Olivia adds as I stretch my arm along the back of her chair and tangle a finger in her hair.
“If she’s so impressive, why did you call her a bitchy ice queen in yourSports Centerinterview, Adler?” Brynlee growls, and I decide right then and there that I like her sister.
Protective is good.
We all deserve protective siblings.
