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As an only child, Mia had been endlessly fascinated by the Bennetts. There were just so many of them, nine in all, plus two nieces—the daughters of the two eldest brothers—who were of a similar age to Abby.
Every day had been an adventure at The Forge.
There was always something to do or learn, and always someone willing to teach her new tricks. She’d had painting lessons from Ulysses, their dad. Learned how to strike cuttings from the garden from Toby, Charlie’s twin brother. And even Charlie himself, pain in the arse that he was, had taught her all about football. A skill that had come in infinitely handy when it came to breaking the ice within a new unit.
She’d missed that. The easy camaraderie. The unconditional love. So when Ollie said she could stay as long as she liked, she said, “Okay.” Then she cleared her throat and added, “Thank you.”
“Did you look at the house this morning?” Rafe asked her.
Rafe was the only member of the Bennett family who didn’t work in the arts. He was a family lawyer, and a damn fine one too. He’d been her mother’s lawyer for about five years before she’d passed away, and he’d done everything in his power to make everything that came after her death as painless as possible for Mia. He was a good man, and she had a hunch he was going to be a great dad.
“Yes I did. Even made it all the way inside this time.”
“And what did you think?”
Mia’s brow pinched. “I think it needs a lot of work and will cost me a shitload of money. I also think for an almost empty house, it was very clean.” Oliver shifted beside her but avoided her gaze. “I owe a debt to whomever packed up everything and looked after the place for me,” she said, reaching for Oliver’s hand again. “And also for the tea.”
When he looked up at her, she saw in his beautiful blue eyes the boy she’d known all those years ago. The sweet, kind, gentle boy she’d fallen for.
The boy she’d almost given up everything for.
Only now, mixed in with all that sweet, was an overabundance of sexy.
It didn’t help that Ollie had the most seductive smile she’d ever laid eyes on.When did he learn to smile like that?Or that he now sported the body of a Norse god, with muscles on his muscles and an arse so perfectly formed she wanted nothing more than to smack it and watch it ripple. Maybe bite it.
Definitely bite it.
Actually, there were few parts of Oliver Bennett she didn’t want to sink her teeth into.
But just as her imagination started running wild, just as she noticed Ollie’s gaze flick to her lips and back, Wolf ruined the moment by leaning towards Abby and whispering none too quietly, “Is it just me, or did they used to fuck?”
Ollie snapped his head around and levelled a glare at his sister’s lover. “Fuck—and I cannot stress this enough—off.”
Always the protector.
Even when she didn’t deserve it.
Wolf draped his arm over the back of Abby’s chair and laughed. “Just curious, is all.”
“Well the only thing I’m curious about is what Mia intends to do with Someday,” Abby said, nudging her lover with her elbow.
“Good question,” Rafe said. “That’s why Louisa asked us to pack up the house for you as much as possible. She wanted you to be able to do whatever it was you wanted to do without having to sift through, and I quote, ‘decades of crap’ first.”
Mia laughed. “That sounds exactly like something Mum would say.”
Rafe continued, “She said she didn’t know what plans you had for the future, but whether you wanted to renovate the house or sell it, she wanted you to be able to start the next phase of your life as soon as possible.”
Mia set her cutlery down and sat back in her chair. “Funny you should mention selling the house,” she began, “because about five seconds after I pulled up in the driveway, some real estate guy showed up and told me he had a buyer already lined up, then offered me an insultingly small sum of money.”
Abby, Wolf and Jane all voiced their shock and outrage, but she couldn’t miss the look shared by Rafe and Oliver. They didn’t seem shocked by her news at all.
“What?” she asked them. “What do you know?”
Oliver ran his tongue over his teeth then stared at his older brother. “You want to tell them or should I…?”
Rafe leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table and sighed heavily. “That’s not the first time someone approached with an offer to buy the place.” He looked at Mia. “Was his name Wheeler?”
“Yes,” she said, reaching into her pocket for the business card. She handed it to Rafe. “Greg Wheeler.”
