His entire face lit up, and those strikingly gorgeous eyes twinkled. Actually. Freaking. Twinkled.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
For months, Olivia had been dreaming of seeing him again. Time and again, she’d gone over what she would say to him if he ever decided to reappear in her life.
She’d visualized every possible scenario, from jumping his bones to punching his gorgeous face and telling him to go to hell.
Now that he was actually here, all she managed to do was fumble out the words, “Uh, yeah. Of course. Sorry.”
Mentally chastising herself, she moved to the side to give him enough room to pass by. As he did, his familiar scent assaulted her. It was a mixture of woodsy soap and pure male heat.
More than that, though, it was simply...Jake. He had a tantalizing fragrance all his own.
Olivia’s mind betrayed her, replaying the memories she’d tried so hard to avoid. Him naked. On top of her. Inside of her. Jake grunting out her name as he...
“Thanks.”
She blinked again. Had he just said something? She shook her head as she closed the door, automatically going through her routine with the locks and alarm again.
As her brain finally decided to come back to the land of the living, Olivia started wondering why Jake was finally here, surprised to find she was both excited and afraid of the possibilities.
****
Jake felt as nervous as a whore in church. He’d heard Olivia moving around inside after he’d rang the doorbell that first time. Knew the precise moment when she’d looked through the peephole, and exactly how long she’d stood there afterward.
When he finally saw her for the first time in months, it was all he could do not to grab her and pull her into his arms. Knowing that would go over about as well as a fart in a spacesuit, he’d purposely stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets to keep from doing just that.
Now, he found himself awkwardly waiting as Olivia locked the door and punched in her alarm code. The telltale bulge under her shirt was not lost on him, and a fist reached inside his chest and grabbed hold of his heart when he saw it.
She most likely was suffering from PTSD. Completely understandable, given everything she’d been through. Still, Jake couldn’t stand the thought of her being so scared she felt the need to carry in her own home.
He’d seen several men fight that unforgiving bitch of a battle after returning home, and it was a hell like no other. Nausea rolled through his gut knowing she could have been struggling with that same internal torture while he’d left her all alone.
A new wave of hatred against the men who had taken his woman and tried to sell her rushed over him. His only consolation was the knowledge that they were all either dead or behind bars. And those who were behind bars would never, ever see daylight again.
Even so, Jake’s protective streak prevented him from remaining quiet. Because, fuck yeah, he still thought of her as his.
“Everything okay?”
Olivia turned to face him, a fake-as-shit smile plastered on her face. “Everything’s fine.”
Damn. She was lying, which meant everything was definitely not fucking fine.
That fist squeezed his heart again, and Jake was grateful she couldn’t see his fingernails digging into his palms. He tried to lock it down. She didn’t need him going all caveman on her, now, after all this time.
“I tried calling before stopping by, but the recording said your number was disconnected.”
She broke eye contact. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
That was it. No explanation. Nothing. Don’t think so, sweetheart.
“Why did you change it?”
While continuing to avoid his eyes, she licked her lips. An adorable little habit she had when she was nervous.
“There, uh, were a lot of reporters calling for interviews. After.” She shrugged casually. “I got tired of it, so I changed my number.”
It was a plausible explanation, but Jake’s gut was telling him there was more to it. He narrowed his eyes slightly, really taking her in.
She’d gained some weight since he’d found her in that God-forsaken jungle, and the renewed curves looked good on her. Really fucking good.
That aside, she was too pale, and the shadows under her eyes worried him. Jake wondered when she’d last had a full night’s sleep. He also noticed Olivia was skittish as hell.
Stepping closer, Jake pulled his hands from his jeans and rested them low on his hips. Trying his best not to come off too gruff, Jake willed himself to speak calmly.
“What’s going on, Liv?”
Finally making eye contact again, she looked much too innocently when she answered, “Nothing.” She started to pass by him to head toward the quaint kitchen on her right. “Would you like something to drink? I can make us some coffee or tea or—”
He gently grabbed ahold of her wrist, stopping both her movement and her words. He heard her tiny gasp, and knew from the pulse pounding against his fingertips that she was just as affected by that simple touch as he was.
Good. We’ll come back to that later, sweetheart.
Speaking more sternly this time, Jake asked, “Are. You. Okay?”
****
The worry on Jake’s face was touching, but Olivia needed more than his worry or pity. Much more. And that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it?
She would always want more than he was willing to give. That pesky little fact proven by his noticeable absence these past two months. Remembering this, Olivia jerked her arm away.
“I told you. I’m fine.”
Doing her best to keep her irritation at bay, Olivia walked into the kitchen to get them both something to drink. She pulled two mugs off the pegs of the black, wooden stand by her stove and set them on the counter.
When she turned around to ask if he wanted tea or coffee, she found Jake standing right in front of her.
Her breath caught in her throat. Mere inches were now all that
