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“What?” He looks in the oven door, trying to find the gray hair and when he realizes that I’m playing him up, he spins around and points at me, a smirk on his face. “Hardy har!”
I laugh, the kind of laugh that has your whole body shaking. “Gotcha though, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did.” He chuckles and lifts the lid off a pot on the stove.
“Mmmmm, what’s for dinner?” I ask, stepping closer.
“My favorite. Steak, potatoes, and green beans.”
“Please don’t overcook mine,” Geena says as she walks in the kitchen. “I can’t bear overcooked meat.” She grimaces and walks to the table that is set for six people. “You have more people coming?” she asks Dad.
“Yeah,” he answers, opening a bottle of red wine. “Livvy and—”
“Humph, I would have thought you’d only want Evan and me here. After all, it is a special birthday.”
Pop cuts his eyes to me, saying a thousand words without opening his mouth. “Livvy is a family friend, she has been for over twenty years. Need I remind you that you and Evan have only been together two years.”
She gasps and turns her wide-eyed gaze to me. “Evan?” I hear the meaning behind my name, but right now I don’t have the patience to deal with her.
“Let it go, Geena,” I sigh. “It’s Pop’s birthday.”
Her eyes light with fire before she slides down in her seat, pulls her cell out and taps away at the screen, most likely bitching about me and my family to one of her friends. I lean my back against the counter and cross my arms as Dad passes Pop a glass of red wine and offers me a bottle of beer. I take a long draw and swallow before closing my eyes and relishing in the bitter taste as it hits my tongue.
“If you get drunk, don’t think I’ll be driving your monstrosity.” Her snippiness grates on me, and for the first time ever, I want to tell her to leave.
“Geena,” I warn, my tone one that I don’t use often. She rolls her eyes and crosses her legs, ignoring me.
“Where’s that old man!” I jump at the sound of Livvy’s voice traveling from the hallway and nearly drop my beer as she barrels into the kitchen. For an old lady, she sure can move sometimes.
“Livvy.” Pop wraps his arms around her as Dad waits to do the same before she passes them a gift bag.
“Got a new gray hair there, Cal,” she sniggers.
“Evan already tried it,” Pop answers, rolling his eyes. “Thanks for this, but I told you not to get anything.”
“Oh, hush.” She spins around to me, opening her arms. “How’s my computer genius?”
I shake my head and laugh as I wrap my arms around her. “I’m good.”
“Tell me you didn’t bring the evil witch,” she whispers in my ear.
I grimace, not bothering to try and correct her. Over the years I’ve tried countless times, now I just let it go. “She’s behind you.”
She groans and lets go, turning around. “Hi, Geena.”
“Olivia.”
Tension fills the air and I clear my throat, trying to cut through the awkwardness, but as I turn around at the sound of footsteps, I’m speechless.
This woman stands in front of me, a flowing dress covering her body and hitting just above her knees; knee-high brown boots covering the smooth, pale skin of her legs. Skin that I want to touch. Skin that I imagine will feel like silk. My fingers itch with the urge to test the theory and as I bring my eyes up to her face I see her shocked, wide, hazel ones, full of questions.
I step toward her, my hand reaching out to touch her dark-brown hair that is hanging over her shoulders in soft waves, but my brain kicks in at the last second and I pull away.
“Lexi? What are you doing here?” My voice comes out harsher than I mean for it to but I don’t correct myself.
“She’s my guest,” Pop says, pushing past me and wrapping her up in a hug, lifting her off the floor and whispering something in her ear that makes a blush rise on her cheeks.
I want to cause her to blush like that.
