AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Parking in the lot outside Chrome Canvas Bara few days later, I turned off the engine. Often frequented by bikers due to it being attached to CCC—or Chrome Canvas Cycles, to be precise, which manufactured custom motorcycles—it wasn’t an obvious place to meet for coffee. But it was considered a “gem” by those caffeine-lovers who discovered it, because it couldn’t be denied that they maderealgood coffee. As such, it wasn’t a huge surprise that Ollie asked me to meet him here when he texted me last night.
He first came upon the bar after buying a motorcycle from CCC. Yeah, though he worked for our dad’s massive company, o-Verve, Ollie wasn’t stuffy like many of his colleagues. He didn’t dress in suits and shiny shoes outside of work. He was more a dark tee, jeans, and boots kind of guy.
Having hopped out of my car, I locked it with the key fob and began striding toward the bar, highly curious as to why Ollie had requested we meet—he’d been exceptionally vague in his texts. A few people stood outside CCC’s rolled-up bay door, so I couldn’t see much of the interior. But I did make out a couple of bikes set on raised lifts.
Customers allegedly came from all over. Three generations of Armstrongs—close friends of the Mercier family—worked there. I knew the name of the youngest Armstrong, Maverick, purely because he was often photographed with Drey. Maverick’s aunt, Sarah, apparently ran the bar these days.
Despite the Armstrongs’ link to Dax, I doubted I’d bump into him here. I hadn’t seen, heard from, or contacted him since our talk at his office. I’d almost emailed him a time or two, whenever a question popped into my head that I wished I’d asked. But I didn’t want to hear from Mr. Persuasive—he could too easily influence my decisions; could too easily sway me to his way of thinking. Whether or not I stood at an altar with him needed to be my decision. At the moment, I still wasn’t sure what to do.
Reaching the bar, I pushed open the door. The scents of coffee, wood, beer, and spicy food washed over me as I entered. Two very pretty and clearly related brunettes—one older, one younger—stood behind the bar. A “BEER” sign hung over it, a bright neon-blue.
The redbrick walls sported pictures of framed photos of bikes. Said walls were also lined with shelves on which bike parts, helmets, and accessories sat, all for sale. It was only then that I remembered the bar doubled as a store.
The lighting was dim due to the tinted windows, but I easily spotted Ollie. Other patrons were scattered around—some sat at barstools, others at heavy tables. A few played pool while another cursed at a gambling machine.
Smiling at my brother, I crossed straight to him. Five and a half years my junior, he was tall, broad, and dark-eyed. He also very closely resembled Dane, though there were also hints of our deceased great-uncle there who’d died before we were born—we’d only ever seen pictures of Hugh, but Ollie definitely had the guy’s smile.
Right then, he stood and flashed that crooked smile at me. “Hey.”
I hugged him tight. “Hey yourself.”
He gestured at one of the two mugs on the heavy table. “A caramel latte awaits you.”
“Thanks.” As he returned to his seat, I claimed the one opposite and asked, “How’s everything at work?”
“Fine. I still have zero idea how no one at the company has tried poisoning Dad yet. He can be a total asshole to the staff sometimes. Though not unnecessarily. At least notallthe time. He just doesn’t handle human error or inefficiency well. As you know, of course.”
I felt my eyes narrow. It was not like Ollie to ramble. Or drum his fingers restlessly on his thigh. Or bite into the inside of his cheek.
I realized, with a start, that he was nervous. It had to be a first. I’dneverseen him nervous before. He was fearless in just about everything he did.
He cleared his throat. “How are things with Sapphire Glade?”
“All good. But I don’t think you asked me to meet you so we could have an idle chat. Is something wrong?” My chest tightened as my imagination began going wild.
He lifted a hand. “No, not wrong. I have some news. Good news. For me, anyway.” He rested his lower arms on the table. “I wanted to tell you while we were alone.”
“Okay,” I said, wary.
Ollie drew in a long breath. “Marleigh’s pregnant,” he blurted.
I felt my brows hit my hairline. “Really?” Thrilled, I let out a low but very girly squeal as I shot out of my seat and rounded the table. I hugged him again, probably squeezing a little too tight. “That’s amazing news.”
He eyed me carefully as I drew back. “You’re … you’re okay about it?”
I frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, I knew it would make you think of …” He trailed off, clamping his lips shut.
As understanding dawned on me, a flood of affection washed through my system even as hurt gripped my gut. “Aw, Ollie.” I dragged my chair over to his and sat back down. “I won’t lie, the pain of my miscarriage will never go away. But it shouldn’t, should it? Something like thatshouldleave its mark on you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not elated that you and Marleigh are having a baby.”
“It’s not that I thought you wouldn’t be pleased for us,” he told me. “I just thought it might hurt you on some level; that it’d be hard for you. I mean, you organize every kind of event imaginable, but never baby showers.”
“Not because I’d find it too difficult to be around pregnant women. My clients deserve for me to concentrate onthemandtheirvision, not for me to be distracted by my personal loss. It isn’t fair to them. It’s the same reason why a newly divorced event organizer I know often refers soon-to-be wedded couples to Sapphire Glade—she worries her personal feelings would leak through and ruin their big day.”
Pausing, I rested a hand on his arm. “Trust me, I amdelightedfor you and Marleigh. I am delighted that I’ll soon have a niece or nephew. Please don’t doubt that. Please don’t think I’d resent you.”
His brows pulled together. “I never thought you’d feel any resentment, Addie—that’s not who you are. I just worried our good news would remind you of what you lost and that you’d find this difficult. Especially since it was the anniversary of your miscarriage only a few weeks back, so I know that the memories and hurt are kind of fresh right now.”
