9
Olive woke the next morning and sat up in Levon’s bed, clutching the sheets to her naked chest and wondering how the hell she’d ended up there again. Last night she’d been dead set on leaving, and yet somehow he’d distracted her into staying. And by “distracted,” she meant given her several mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasms. The fact that she’d done the same for him only made her cheeks hotter and her brain more discombobulated than before. She gave the other side of the mattress a quick side glance. No indentation from his body. Huh. That meant he hadn’t slept here with her. So where exactly was he and what exactly was she going to do about her situation now?
As she got up and headed for the bathroom, more questions began to surface in her muddled head. Had he planned this? Had he executed a seduction as a way to keep her in his protective clutches? And why did his obvious conniving feel so... chivalrous?
Olive shook her head. Clearly she wasn’t all the way awake yet, but she knew a shower would fix her up right. She didn’t bother checking the time. It was Saturday; and fairly early on Saturday, at that. Probably around six o’clock; seven at the latest.
A mouth-watering smell drifted to her from the kitchen. Olive stopped in her tracks and sniffed the air, suddenly alert to the reality that awaited her in the other room: pancakes. And Levon. She didn’t know which promise struck her as more delicious, but why should a girl have to choose?
It was her head that ultimately directed her to the shower first; not her body, and definitely not her stomach.
She lingered in the shower for longer than was necessary, all the while fighting the urge to call out into the house for Levon to join her. Their encounter all those months ago had awoken something in her and now that they were back together again, the need was more ferocious than ever—a thirst for him that couldn’t be slaked. She craved him morning, noon, and night, and while their lovemaking had carried them both off into realms of pure bliss last night, it still wasn’t enough. She longed to have him inside her again, moving with her in slow sensuousness, driving into her with helpless surrender as she cried out—
Olive reached for the shower handle, and quickly twisted it to cold. She would pummel these thoughts into nonexistence if it took her all morning to do so.
Because pancakes weren’t just another pleasure she could partake in. They were a new variable, a concept to be picked apart and studied. Levon clearly enjoyed his role as her self-appointed protector, but making her breakfast was a new level of intimacy she wasn’t sure she was ready for. She didn’t have the luxury of indulging in fantasies or reading signals that weren’t there. No way was he in this for the long haul. If he was interested in something committed with her, he wouldn’t have walked away from their night together without giving her any way to contact him. And he hadn’t exactly rushed to reach out to her as soon as he got back to town. If it hadn’t been for their accidental meet-up in the shed, she wondered if she would have heard from him at all. There was nothing to indicate that he wanted an actual relationship.
And especially not with her.
When Olive finally presented herself in the kitchen, she was scrubbed clean and glowing. Her clothes were fresh, but her mood was considerably darkened. If Levon sensed her reluctance to join him, he didn’t show it. He left the electric griddle to cup her face in his broad hand and plant a gentle kiss on her temple. Then he pulled a chair out for her at the kitchen table and returned to building up a pile of golden-hued flapjacks.
“Were you up all night?” Olive wouldn’t admit to having searched for an imprint beside her, even though she had.
“I was up for a while,” he admitted, “but I did manage to get some rest.”
She wondered if he’d slept on the sofa in the living room instead, and if so, why. Before she could ask, though, he changed subjects.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, setting a heaping pile of pancakes before her and drizzling them with syrup. “Say ‘when’.”
Except she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice until they were all but drowned. Levon isn’t anything to you besides an old friend... and the father of your child. Okay, so maybe that is something. But he’s definitely not your boyfriend. She used her fork to move aside the top few soggy pancakes for the less soaked ones beneath before prompting him, “So... you were thinking?”
“I think you should stay here until the gang is dealt with.” Levon rested his forearms on the table for a long moment, his direct gaze holding hers. “It’s safer, and it’s more efficient for exchanging information. Besides, with you assisting me, it shouldn’t take long.”
Olive opened her mouth to argue again, but darn it, maybe he was right. She was an asset to his case and with his brawn and her brains, the whole thing should be over quickly. Finally she exhaled slowly and nodded. “All right. I can agree to that,”
“Good.” Levon tucked into his pancakes with relish. “Now that’s settled, we need to discuss our stakeout later.”
“I’m sorry. What?” Olive’s fork squealed across her plate as she blinked at him. “You’re taking me on a stakeout? What happened to your whole ‘Me Tarzan, you Jane’ alpha guardian thing?”
Levon gave her a look and patted his mouth with the corner of one of last night’s pizza delivery napkins. “It’s not ideal to have you there, but you’re safest when you’re by my side. If you need another reason, which I know you do, then I’d like you to help
