“He doesn’t?” The man who owned a pair of swans named after the Flintstones seemed like he had maybe a little fun at least some of the time.
“He wouldn’t know fun if it bit him on the butt.”
Renee smiled at the memory of Oliver jumping when the swans took offense to his invasion of their pond.
Chloe went on, “I worry about the butthead. All he does is work and micromanage. He argues with Dad constantly about the business. He orders me to keep Flash out of trouble—as if anyone could keep Flash out of trouble,” she added under her breath. “And all he does with Flash is fight. Promise me you won’t let him boss you around.”
Renee let that thought roll around her head. If she hadn’t spent the last few days with Oliver, she would’ve agreed with Chloe’s assessment. Because that’s who Oliver had been, at least in her memory.
Frankly, that was who he’d been at her brother’s wedding and that’d been five years ago. Because she’d tried. She’d struck up a conversation with him and she would’ve asked him to dance, if she’d got to before he’d had so much to drink. Oliver hadn’t tried to boss her around, but he had been the textbook definition of grumpy.
“He’s been great,” she finally said, hoping that wasn’t giving too much away. “Really, I don’t want you to worry about us. I’m more concerned about what to wear to your rodeo.”
There was a moment when she didn’t think Chloe was going to go for that subject change. But then she said, “What size are you?” And they fell into the familiar habit of discussing clothes and sizing.
“I’ll send some samples out for you,” Chloe said. “It’s not what you’d normally wear, but you’ll blend in. And they’re samples. You can’t pay me for them,” she added.
Because Chloe was a real friend, bless her heart. It shouldn’t feel different, accepting this gift instead of one from Oliver. But it did. “Thanks, Chloe. I can’t wait to see you in a few weeks.”
“If Oliver gives you any trouble, call me immediately.”
Renee almost defended Oliver again, but she decided that would only make Chloe more suspicious so instead she said, “I will. Promise.”
She sat there for a moment after the call ended. Chloe’s clothing line didn’t make maternity clothing, but she was going to send things a size or two up, which would give Renee a couple of more months to figure out how she was going to afford everything else she needed. Which meant the only thing she needed to buy on her own was underwear, and she could afford a bra and a few pairs of panties.
She began to browse on her phone. But instead of basic white or nude underthings, she found herself looking at pretty bra and pantie sets. Because Oliver wanted to take her out and show her the town. But more than that, because she wanted to feel pretty. Leggings were great but they weren’t doing much for her ability to look in a mirror and feel good about what she saw. She wanted to be tempting, damn it. And she had about two hundred dollars left in her bank account from the money the feds had allotted her to travel with. New panties it was.
She still heard her mother’s voice, dripping with icy menace as she complained about Renee getting fat. But at least now, she also had the memory of Oliver telling her how gorgeous she was and how he couldn’t keep his hands off her.
She had to choose who to believe. And her mother had never loved her.
Not that Oliver loved her. Of course not. He liked her and he worried about her and that...that was enough.
This whole situation was still a mess. Just like her life. But she couldn’t stop thinking about what Chloe had said—Oliver never had any fun. That picture of him didn’t mesh with him laughing and naked in the mud, or of him insisting that he show her the town.
It was high time they both started having more fun.
Eleven
“Are you sleeping with her?”
It took a lot of work to make sure Oliver’s face didn’t react to this bald statement. Obviously, Renee had talked to Chloe. He’d known there was no way Chloe wouldn’t put two and two together. But he hadn’t quite expected her to scream it in his ear. “One moment.” He turned to Herb Ritter, praying the older man hadn’t been able to make out Chloe’s screech. “Thanks again for coming by. I’m sorry our meeting had to be pushed back.”
The older man did something Oliver never would’ve seen coming in million years—he winked. “I hope she was worth it,” Herb said in his gravelly voice. “But try not to let it happen again.”
Oliver came this close to asking Herb to keep the revelation that a woman was involved to himself, but he managed to hold on to his tongue. At this point, he was neither confirming nor denying anything involving Renee to anyone.
Including his own sister. He waited until the door had closed behind Herb before he turned his attention back to his sister, who was humming the Jeopardy! theme song on the other end of the line. “Can I help you with something?”
“You are! You’re sleeping with Renee! I knew it.”
Was there anything worse than a little sister gloating? If so, Oliver couldn’t think of what that might be. But he had all the plausible deniability in the world when Renee was the subject. “What are you talking about?” Maybe he’d missed his calling in the theater.
“She told me you were being nice to her and frankly, you’re not nice to anyone. Especially not her.
