The night they spent together aside, he was her best friend. He should have at least found the time in the last two months to pick up a damn phone and let her know he was okay.
Olivia would then start to think that maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t called. Jake was always so intuitive. The minute he heard her voice, he’d know something was wrong.
He’d worry. Probably catch the next flight home from wherever he was and swoop in to try and save the day. Olivia didn’t want that. She just wanted...him.
Yawning again, she didn’t even bother to cover her mouth, this time. Okay, so she wanted Jake and a good night’s sleep. It had been far too long since she’d had either one.
After returning from South America, Olivia had started to dream about her late brother again. The dreams were different each time, but they were always terrifying.
She’d see her brother, Mikey, in the midst of various training exercises. The dreams would then cut-scene and change.
Mikey would be hurt and, despite knowing what needed to be done to save him, she’d just stand there, watching helplessly as he suffered and died.
Olivia and her father had never been given the exact cause of Mikey’s death. The only information the Army had shared with them was that her brother had died during a training accident. Which probably explained the multitude of ways her mind had imagined him dying in her dreams.
Lately, however, the nightmares had started changing mid-way. Instead of Mikey dying, it would be Jake.
As if that wasn’t enough, her dreams would morph, again. She’d find herself back in the jungle with Jake and, like before, they’d be running for their lives.
No matter how the dreams played out, Jake always ended up dead, and Olivia was always awakened by her own screams.
Both physically and emotionally exhausted, Olivia knew she couldn’t keep going like this. Something had to give, and soon.
As for Jake, Olivia was also starting to realize that if he truly wanted to be with her, he would have found a way to call or text. Plain and simple.
With that in mind, she unlocked her door, stepped inside, and closed it before securing the two deadbolts, and entering her alarm system’s code.
She was starting to get used to this new routine. She hated it, but after everything that had happened, Olivia wasn’t taking any chances.
Removing her Glock 43 from her purse—something she never thought she’d carry on a regular basis—she headed down the narrow hallway to her bedroom at the back of the house.
Her eyes did a quick sweep as she moved, making sure nothing was out of place. A habit she couldn’t seem to break. Thankfully, everything appeared as it had when she’d left for work yesterday morning.
Breathing easier, Olivia placed the gun in her nightstand drawer and began getting some things together. She’d just pulled a clean pair of panties and a short pajama set from her dresser drawers when the doorbell rang.
Although it had been over a week since her break-in, adrenaline immediately began pumping through her system. Suddenly, she was very much awake.
Common sense told her if whoever was on the other side of the door wanted to hurt her, they probably wouldn’t have bothered ringing the bell.
Even so, it was pretty early for someone to just drop by. And, with the way her life had been going lately, Olivia wasn’t about to risk everything on another person’s common sense.
Grabbing her gun again, she walked back into the hallway and toward her front door.
She drew in a deep, calming breath before lifting up on the balls of her feet and looking through the tiny peephole. In that same instant, every ounce of air she’d just put into her lungs came rushing out with a loud whoosh.
Dropping back to down her heels, Olivia didn’t move. She just stood there like an idiot, staring at her door and wondering what she should do.
Open it? Ignore it? The choices bounced back and forth through her mind like a ping-pong ball.
The doorbell’s second ring snapped her out of it and she shook her head in disgust. Why was she hiding like a guilty person? She’d done nothing wrong. He was the asshat who’d left without saying a word. He was the one who should feel badly. Not her.
With new determination, Olivia quickly tucked her gun into the waistband of her scrub pants. Resting it against the small of her back, she pulled the hem of her shirt down to cover it.
The fitted scrub top hugged the contour of her waist, but the back was loose enough to keep the gun hidden. She hoped.
Entering her security code with more force than necessary, Olivia then unlocked the deadbolts. With one more deep breath, she lifted her chin and opened the door.
Jake looked as sexy as ever as he stood there, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. He’d cleaned up since the last time she’d seen him. His dark brown hair was fixed in that messy, yet amazingly sexy way some guys did theirs, and his scruff of a beard had been neatly trimmed.
His heather gray, long sleeve shirt stretched tightly across his sculpted chest, shoulders, and biceps, but went loose at his narrow waist.
Olivia couldn’t stop her eyes as they began wandering down to his perfectly worn jeans, or keep from remembering exactly what he looked like beneath it all.
Just the sight of him sent a shot of arousal through her body, dousing the flames of the oh-so-terrifying wrath she’d intended to pummel him with just seconds before. Well, crap.
“Hey, Liv.”
Her eyes snapped back up to his. God, just hearing his low, alluring voice again made her insides clench. Then, he gave her that slow, crooked smile and her heart melted a little more.
“H-hi,” she stuttered.
Yep. It was official. She was pathetic.
They both just stood there, staring. Each lost in their own thoughts and memories. In reality, it was probably less than a minute, but it
