Read Online Hitched (Imperfect Love Book 1) by Kendall Ryan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kendall Ryan
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walls and furniture, carpeting and linens are all in various shades of white and cream. It feels pure and untouched.
Honestly, it feels a bit like walking through a museum. It’ll take a while to think of this place as home. I’ve held on to my little bachelor pad near the F Line for so long now, I don’t like the idea of leaving it. But I know this is all for the best. A future with Olivia is what my father wanted for me.
And speaking of fathers . . . a bottle of red wine and two glasses have been left on the counter with a note from Olivia’s dad.
Noah,
Thank you for doing this, son. I won’t be around forever, and it feels so good to know that you will be there to take care of my little girl. I know you won’t let me down. There’s not another man I’d trust with both my company and my daughter. I hope you know that.
Very truly,
Fred Cane
I fold the paper into a square and stick it in my pocket. I realize that Olivia’s dad always trusted me with her. Even when I was a horny sixteen-year-old kid with a new driver’s license, and she wasn’t allowed to date, I alone was awarded the privilege of taking her on outings. We boated, played mini golf, went to the movies, you name it.
I open the bottle to let it breathe and cross the room to look out on the city skyline below. I can’t help thinking back on all the good times Olivia and I have shared. And the difficult ones too. We’ve been there for each other through the loss of our mothers and watching our company crumble.
I stand here thinking for so long, I lose track of time. Surprised, I blink back to reality and look at my watch. She’s late .
With a sinking feeling, I wonder if she’s even coming. Why in the fuck should I care if she wants to live here or not? She’s made it clear how she feels about me—how much she hates the idea of being stuck with me. I’m akin to a piece of dog shit on the bottom of her five-hundred dollar heels.
But I know there’s a lot more to it than that. I’ll be sorely disappointed if she decides not to show.
Finally, there’s a click in the lock. I try not to sprint to the door like a golden retriever.
Olivia comes inside. I’m not sure what I expected, but she’s changed out of her work clothes and into a pair of slim-fitting jeans and a lightweight sweater.
“Hey.” Leaving her suitcase by the door, she crosses the living room toward me.
“You’re an hour late,” I say as I make my way toward the kitchen.
“I was picking something up.” She sets a brightly colored shopping bag on the counter. “Something for you, actually.” She treats me to a rare, warm smile.
I watch as she removes a box from inside the shopping bag and sets it on the counter.
“Well . . . are you going to open it?” she asks.
I figured she’d want to see the apartment first, but I oblige, coming to stand beside her. I can smell the light notes of honeysuckle on her skin. Damn, that’s going to be distracting if we’re living together now. I’ll be in a constant state of arousal. Awesome .
I lift open the flap on the cardboard box and dig through the packaging until I find it.
“It’s a teapot,” I say, holding it up and inspecting it with curiosity.
Then the meaning behind her gift slams into me. The conversation we shared about our moms comes rushing back. I don’t think anyone’s ever given me such a thoughtful gift before.
Olivia reaches into the shopping bag, pulls out two small cups, and sets them on the counter. “We can have tea together sometime . . . if you like.”
There’s a touch of uncertainty in her voice. Did she think I might not like that idea?
Well, I don’t. I fucking love it.
“That was very thoughtful of you, Snowflake.”
I thought my friend Sterling was the only one who got my obsession with tea, being that he’s British, but apparently Olivia is on board too.
I set the teapot down on the counter and pull her in close for a hug. I expect Olivia to go rigid in
Honestly, it feels a bit like walking through a museum. It’ll take a while to think of this place as home. I’ve held on to my little bachelor pad near the F Line for so long now, I don’t like the idea of leaving it. But I know this is all for the best. A future with Olivia is what my father wanted for me.
And speaking of fathers . . . a bottle of red wine and two glasses have been left on the counter with a note from Olivia’s dad.
Noah,
Thank you for doing this, son. I won’t be around forever, and it feels so good to know that you will be there to take care of my little girl. I know you won’t let me down. There’s not another man I’d trust with both my company and my daughter. I hope you know that.
Very truly,
Fred Cane
I fold the paper into a square and stick it in my pocket. I realize that Olivia’s dad always trusted me with her. Even when I was a horny sixteen-year-old kid with a new driver’s license, and she wasn’t allowed to date, I alone was awarded the privilege of taking her on outings. We boated, played mini golf, went to the movies, you name it.
I open the bottle to let it breathe and cross the room to look out on the city skyline below. I can’t help thinking back on all the good times Olivia and I have shared. And the difficult ones too. We’ve been there for each other through the loss of our mothers and watching our company crumble.
I stand here thinking for so long, I lose track of time. Surprised, I blink back to reality and look at my watch. She’s late .
With a sinking feeling, I wonder if she’s even coming. Why in the fuck should I care if she wants to live here or not? She’s made it clear how she feels about me—how much she hates the idea of being stuck with me. I’m akin to a piece of dog shit on the bottom of her five-hundred dollar heels.
But I know there’s a lot more to it than that. I’ll be sorely disappointed if she decides not to show.
Finally, there’s a click in the lock. I try not to sprint to the door like a golden retriever.
Olivia comes inside. I’m not sure what I expected, but she’s changed out of her work clothes and into a pair of slim-fitting jeans and a lightweight sweater.
“Hey.” Leaving her suitcase by the door, she crosses the living room toward me.
“You’re an hour late,” I say as I make my way toward the kitchen.
“I was picking something up.” She sets a brightly colored shopping bag on the counter. “Something for you, actually.” She treats me to a rare, warm smile.
I watch as she removes a box from inside the shopping bag and sets it on the counter.
“Well . . . are you going to open it?” she asks.
I figured she’d want to see the apartment first, but I oblige, coming to stand beside her. I can smell the light notes of honeysuckle on her skin. Damn, that’s going to be distracting if we’re living together now. I’ll be in a constant state of arousal. Awesome .
I lift open the flap on the cardboard box and dig through the packaging until I find it.
“It’s a teapot,” I say, holding it up and inspecting it with curiosity.
Then the meaning behind her gift slams into me. The conversation we shared about our moms comes rushing back. I don’t think anyone’s ever given me such a thoughtful gift before.
Olivia reaches into the shopping bag, pulls out two small cups, and sets them on the counter. “We can have tea together sometime . . . if you like.”
There’s a touch of uncertainty in her voice. Did she think I might not like that idea?
Well, I don’t. I fucking love it.
“That was very thoughtful of you, Snowflake.”
I thought my friend Sterling was the only one who got my obsession with tea, being that he’s British, but apparently Olivia is on board too.
I set the teapot down on the counter and pull her in close for a hug. I expect Olivia to go rigid in
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