MAGGIE
Groggy, I adjust my glasses, stumble out into the hallway and into Olly’s bare chest. He’s fresh out of the shower, and all he’s wearing is a few droplets of water and a thin white towel.
Holy hell, he’s a beautiful man. His blond hair is damp and his big muscles glisten. My appetite comes roaring back. I’m not sure how else to explain the need to lick off those water droplets one by one.
“Sorry, Mags. Forgot my clothes in my room. I’ve been meaning to mention how much I like those glasses.”
He stares at me, and I wonder if I look like a giant geek, but he might as well get used to the stripped-down version of me.
He clears his throat. “Are you hungry? I was planning to make an omelet after I get dressed.”
Am I hungry? Why, yes, I am.
Michael Oliver is not on the menu, Magnolia.
“Sounds good.” I hurry down the stairs and bury myself in the fridge, where I take a second to cool off. This pregnancy thing has me freezing one minute and burning up the next. Living with Magic Mike doesn’t help.
He comes down a few minutes later wearing a snug t-shirt and worn but well-fitting jeans. I’m not sure when Olly turned into my very own brand of catnip, but he’s never looked more handsome. He’s somehow even hotter now than in the tux he wore for his sister’s wedding.
Pretty sure “taking things slow” doesn’t mean mauling him until he cries out for mercy.
I make some fully loaded coffee because I know that’s what he likes, and I microwave a cup of water for some herbal tea.
Underneath the maelstrom of emotions I’ve been wrestling with since Olly moved in, I feel bad for stomping off last week when he got on my case about what I’ve been eating. Once I cooled off, I could see where he’s coming from. I hate that he brings out the worst in me. I turn into a sniping child with him, and that’s not how I want to be as a human, much less as a parent. That’s not how my mom and dad were with each other.
Not for the first time, I worry about my mom’s reaction. She always wanted me to get my career in order before I settled down in any kind of relationship. I can’t help but wonder if she’ll be disappointed by this pregnancy.
“Did you sleep well?” he asks as he whips some eggs into submission before pouring them into a pan with browned butter. It smells delicious.
I haven’t gotten around to restoring the kitchen yet. It has an ancient oven, a thirty-dollar microwave I bought at a yard sale, and an old farmhouse table. It needs a complete overhaul, but I can’t afford it yet. I spent all of my money on the casita so I could get some rental income, which I then use to pay the bills.
“I did, yeah. Listen, I have a little surprise for you. Can I kick you out of the house for a bit this afternoon?” I want to do something to thank him for his encouragement. For the last two weeks, he’s filled the fridge with fresh veggies and fruit. He bought me an assortment of crackers, so I don’t have to eat the stale ones in my cabinet. He found this holistic recipe for morning sickness and bought all the ingredients and makes it for me when I don’t feel well, which is often.
We also talked about the most pressing repairs I need to finish on the house, and he had me write a list of things I want him to do. I guess having a partner isn’t so bad.
His bright eyes turn to me. “A surprise?”
I laugh at his expression. “Yes, so I need you to skedaddle.”
After breakfast, which I’m able to keep down, I haul out the mower, but before I can get it started, Olly takes it out of my hands. “I got this.”
“I just need the area around the casita cleared up. I have a new renter coming this evening.”
“Sure. No prob.”
At noon, though, he’s still at it. The backyard is huge and completely overgrown, but he’s made a sizable dent. I make a giant jug of lemonade and take a glass out to him. “Please stop. I feel bad that you’re working so hard.” This wasn’t on the to-do list I made for him.
“I don’t mind, but I need to shower again and head to campus. Will you be okay for a while?” He’s sweaty and hot, and I lean close and try to get a whiff.
“Totally fine.”
“Did you just sniff me?”
Busted. “Yup. I blame the aliens in my belly.”
He hooks an arm around my shoulders and nuzzles his sweaty face in my neck. I squeal and try to push him off, but he picks me up and hugs me to him. I almost moan with how good he feels. Solid and strong. Sturdy.
And sweet Mother Mary, he smells good.
