“This one doesn’t.” The plush mattress squeaked as I got up. “You can sleep here tonight. I’ll take the couch.”
Olivia eyed a green couch that looked like it would hold exactly a third of my body. “So you can claim the right to complain and make me feel guilty? I don’t think so. I’ll be the one taking the couch.”
That thing looked as comfortable as an army cot. “You’ll take the bed, and that’s final.” She looked worn out too. “That way you’ll have more energy to insult me on the way home.”
We spent the next two hours with our laptops, quietly working. It was a companionable silence, one I didn’t feel a need to fill with conversation. I watched Olivia typing furiously, then grabbing her phone for a text. Every so often her forehead would wrinkle as she frowned, and her lips would pucker in pouty consideration. Her hyperfocus was commendable and so like Olivia. Meanwhile, I could hardly stay attentive to my emails with her five feet away. Her scent wrapped around me and made me want to do nothing more than seek out the exact spot she’d sprayed that perfume. Would I find it at the base of her neck? In that sensitive spot beneath her ear? She’d kicked off her shoes, and her pink-painted toes wiggled into the comforter as if to gain warmth. My wife, who’d thrown her hair into a loose ponytail, occasionally mumbled to herself, and I found it distracting in the most ridiculously adorable way.
Her gaze drifted over her keyboard…and met mine.
I didn’t want to watch Olivia.
But she made it hard to look away.
A small, reluctant smile curved those full lips, and the impact reminded me of the time I got hit in the sternum with a fast-pitch baseball. My heartbeat kicked up a notch, and all I could think about was capturing that smartmouth with my own. What would Olivia taste like today? What would she feel like in my arms right now? Would she kiss with all that frenetic energy that vibrated around her? Would she opt for a slow kiss, completely in opposition to her driven, get-it-done-now personality? Or maybe an urgent meeting of the lips, passionate and quick?
“Something on your mind, Lachlan?”
I dragged my focus from Olivia’s mouth to her eyes. “Just plotting a new video game. Working on the storyline.”
“Oh.” She slowly nodded, a piece of her hair tumbling from its knot. “How does it end?”
“I’m not sure yet.” I locked eyes with my wife once again. “But I’m dying to find out.”
* * *
I’d hadmy share of pretty dates, but the woman on my arm tonight beat them all.
Olivia’s heels made loud clicks against the sidewalk as we exited the limo and walked to the capitol building. She wore stilettos that brought her height almost to my shoulder and a floor-length red gown with a slit that gave a man ideas. Her hair hung in loose waves, reminding me of the leading ladies from those black-and-white noir movies my mom made me watch on her rare Saturday nights off.
Stars twinkled in the inky sky above us as the late-October wind turned cool and warned us winter waited in the wings. Olivia shivered into her coat at a chilly gust, and I curved my arm around her and nestled her into my side for warmth.
Two men in tuxedos and name tags stood in the near distance as the entrance came in sight.
“Lachlan. Wait.” Olivia stepped off the sidewalk so another couple could pass.
“Yes?”
“I…” Her bottom lip held between her teeth, she reached for my tie and gave it a slight tug to the left, then brushed away any lint that dared to linger on my coat. Her hands against my chest had me sucking in a breath and counting backward from ten.
“Everything okay?” Because if she kept touching me, I was not going to be okay.
Finally her eyes met mine. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re ready for this. You’ve practiced, you’ve prepared, and you’re the man of the hour. These people are here to see you.”
Now why did she have to go and be nice? Where had that come from? “I think most of them are here for a free meal.”
“No, I’ve been tracking the event’s social media pages, and you’ve been the talk all week. I want you to remember that you’ve worked hard to be the person so many of these attendees look up to. You not only deserve to sit at their table, but you’re now the executive at the head of the table.”
It was like my every insecurity had scrolled across my forehead and Olivia had read each one. “Thank you.”
“When you give your keynote, remember to let your eyes sweep the left, right, and middle of the room. Don’t rush it, and don’t be afraid to glance down at your notecards.”
“I was supposed to bring those notecards?” At her stricken face, I pulled them from my inside pocket. “Oh, these.”
Olivia’s hands clasped my arms, and she squeezed as if transferring all her expert communicator superpowers. “If you get nervous, remember I’m right there in the audience cheering you on.”
“That doesn’t sound like something my sworn enemy would say.”
“She has the night off.” Olivia’s smile was slow and hesitant. “Your fill-in wife and PR coach is here instead.”
