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Tracker slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her to his side. Then he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. “See, he wants to murder me right now,” he whispered in her ear.
Laughing, Olivia playfully pushed him away. “You’re crazy. Trust me, he’s just afraid I’ll get my hooks in you, and he’ll be stuck having me here longer.”
Tracker threw back his head and let out a long laugh. “Well, you got my vote, sweetheart. Stick around as long as you like. You fit in.” With a wink, he headed off to the keg to fill his cup.
Olivia couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she watched him leave. He thought she fit in. Strange as it was, and Scott aside, she liked it there with this rough-around-the-edges group. A lot.
Her entire life had been spent in comfort. Housekeepers, chefs, drivers, designer clothes, lavish vacations, you name it, she’d had it. But here with the Handlers, performing simple tasks such as helping Brooke with the dogs, cooking for herself, cleaning her bathroom, and giving Ty her two cents on the design of a car wash he was opening, she was helpful for the first time. Basic as it was, it felt incredible to be doing tasks others found value in. She was contributing rather than existing.
And she loved it. Even if it came with a studio apartment, lukewarm showers, and a farm. The only thing she’d change was Scott’s attitude. Having to be on alert to stay out of his way constantly was exhausting.
She glanced at him to find him still watching her. God, those eyes. So intense, so full of secrets and pain. What would it be like to be the woman to crack that man open? To learn what tortured his mind and kept him awake at night because she heard him pacing, occasionally crying out, and punching what she hoped was a heavy bag well into the early morning hours.
So many times, she’d fantasized about knocking on his door and giving him another outlet for his insomnia. Letting him have her body to work out all that frustration and restless energy and to exhaust them both until their heads could finally be quiet enough to sleep.
But, of course, that would require he tolerate being in her presence for more than five seconds.
As she watched him watching her, a woman slithered up to him. She had lengthy legs made even longer with heels higher than Olivia’s four-inchers. Her dress appeared to be plastered on, barely covering her ass or tits in any respectable way. Even through the darkness, Olivia could make out layers of caked-on makeup, shoddy hair extensions, and an empty brain.
She looked cheap, easy, and basic.
Scott smiled at the woman and a hot twist of jealousy burned through Olivia’s stomach.
“Ridiculous,” she muttered as she sipped her drink and shifted her attention to the dancing fire. She tried, really tried not to look again but failed after only a few seconds.
Winking in her direction, he knew this was getting to her, and he loved it. Scott leaned down to the woman’s ear and whispered something, keeping his attention on Olivia. The woman giggled and wrapped her arms around one of his big biceps, smashing her tits against him. He laughed at something she said in return, and the jealousy in Olivia turned into something darker, something more depressing.
What the hell was she doing there?
Sure, she was hiding from her fiancé, but there were plenty of places she could go. Literally anywhere. Instead, she chose to stay where she wasn’t wanted. Why? Because she felt close to a brother she’d barely known by being near his friend?
Or was the reason more pitiful, like this insane crush she’d developed on the man who hated her?
Regardless, it was time to go. Time to leave Florida and figure out her own problems.
She upended her drink onto the grass then turned away with a sigh before getting sucked back into staring at Scott. At least she wouldn’t have to watch him and the woman walk off to find a dark corner to get down and dirty in.
She should say goodbye to Brooke. Her new friend would worry if she didn’t, but she’d also try to talk Olivia into staying. And she might get Curly or the others involved. In her vulnerable state, Olivia would be inclined to throw her smart intentions out the window if someone expressed interest in having her stick around.
No, heading straight out was the wiser choice. She’d grab the few things she’d arrived with and get out of town tonight. Once she was far enough away to avoid turning back, she’d text her regrets and gratitude.
This time would fade to nothing but a blip in her memory—a time she’d stepped into an unknown world and learned new things about herself.
