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“I could ask Logan.
His family has been here forever.”
“Sounds like there’s a but coming…”
“I really wanted to prove to my sisters that I wasn’t the total flake I’d been in the past—you know, the one who brought a documentary film crew home for Christmas and ended up embarrassing the whole town. This fundraiser is also a way to show that I have the chops to bring something useful to the brewery. I’m good at marketing. I can help, and now that the boxes aren’t packed floor to ceiling in my office, this is my chance.”
“I can take you around to a couple of places.” The words were out of his mouth before he thought twice.
“Last night wasn’t about buttering you up. The pecan pie was, but afterwards, that was just us.”
Judging by the way she’d come apart in his arms last night, he didn’t doubt her for a second. “I’ll remember that next time you bring me pie.”
Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed him long and slow before pulling away. “Thank you.”
“I’m just your driver.” He shrugged. “Don’t depend on me for anything else.”
Three days later, Olivia shielded her eyes from the setting sun as she and Mateo walked down Phillip Deckerson’s front porch steps and mentally added one more person to her list of fundraiser supporters, which brought the number up to twenty five. All in all, a pretty damn successful day.
She managed to close the SUV’s passenger door before the giggles spilled out from between her lips. “Oh my God, did you see the look on his face when I said Tyrell Hawson’s name? I thought fire was going to come shooting out of his nose.”
Mateo fastened his seat belt. “Nothing like a bogus eminent domain claim by the city to get an old man’s back up.”
“Thank you for this.” She fiddled with the seat belt, a familiar fluttering in her stomach—one that always seemed to make its presence known whenever she was around him.
She’d done all the talking but it was Mateo who’d gotten her in the door. When they weren’t arguing or tearing each other’s clothes off, they made a pretty damn good team. Was that how love worked? Maybe it did for them.
“Don’t worry, I’ll figure out a way to make you pay me back.” His stomach growled as he turned onto Main Street. “But first, dinner and then some pie.”
“I don’t know what Ruby Sue puts in it, but it’s addictive.” She giggled. “I think you need to investigate.”
“If by ‘investigate’, you mean eat it, then I’m all for it.”
Mateo pulled into The Kitchen Sink’s parking lot and stopped next to a cherry-red sports car near the front door that made her eye twitch.
It couldn’t be.
He’d already fucked-up her life, what was left for her ex to ruin?
Her hand shook as she grasped the handle and pushed the door open. She held her breath as she stepped out onto the asphalt lot and looked around for signs of Larry.
“You okay?” Mateo asked after coming to stand by her on the sidewalk leading to the diner.
Giving the outside of the diner one last look, she turned her gaze to Mateo. “I’m sure it’s noth—”
The Kitchen Sink’s door opened and her ex-boyfriend stepped out, wearing a bespoke suit and a slimy grin. Whatever the hell she’d seen in him, she had no idea. The man was a generic pretty boy with a gambling problem and an ugly heart. Compared to Mateo, he was nothing but smoke and mirrors.
Larry paused outside the door and withdrew a cigarette from a half-empty pack. “Hey there, good looking.”
It took a second for her brain to process that the man who’d posted pictures of her playing with her breasts on a revenge-porn site was standing within bitch-slapping distance. However, once it did, a white-hot anger blasted through her body, hot enough to turn her lungs to toast. Her hands curled into fists and she took a step forward before her mind caught up with her body. Beating the shit out of the scumbag would feel good, but it wouldn’t help her. The last thing she needed after working Salvation like a politician on election day was to remind everyone in town how crazy the Sweet girls could be. As good as it would feel to slap the smug look off Larry’s smug face, it wasn’t worth what it would cost her future niece or nephew.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” she snarled.
Seemingly unaffected by her reaction, Larry lit his cigarette and took a slow drag before bothering to answer. “Is that any way to greet your boyfriend?”
“Ex-boyfriend, Larry.” Fury ate at her until even her hair vibrated with barely leashed rage. “That’s what happens when you post naked pictures of me to the web, get me fired from my job, empty out our joint account and sell everything else to pay off your gambling debts.”
“You shouldn’t hold grudges; especially not against someone giving you a chance to get back something you want.”
