If.
What a horrible word. If I were someone else. If I were better. If I were worth it. That one-syllable, two-letter word that could be filled with hope is, instead, my pain.
“You’ll find someone, Oliver. One day, this woman is going to come into your life and she’ll make you want to take chances again. She’ll be worth putting your heart on the line for because she’ll know how perfect, selfless, and wonderful you are.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but then stops. We sway a little as the boat moves and he walks us over to the couch. After a minute of silence, he speaks. “I gave up on that dream a few years ago.”
My heart is pounding so hard because I know I can’t hold back. I don’t just want sex with this man. I’m not saying we should be married, but I want to date him. I want to see if this chemistry and the way we are together can last.
I go through all the options in my head. The answers that may come from this, but I know if I don’t take the risk, I’ll regret it always.
“What if . . .”
“Don’t,” he says as his thumb grazes my cheek. “Not because I haven’t wondered the same thing but because we both know that no matter what the answer to that question is, it won’t matter.”
“Ollie,” I say pleadingly. “We don’t know that.”
He sighs, sitting back. “You’re an analyst. You know better than anyone how this could go, right?” I nod. “Then tell me what the most plausible outcome is?”
I don’t want to answer him. I don’t want the bitter truth to touch my tongue. The lie forms, a pretty illusion of what could be where we’re happy, but I can’t bring myself to say it. Because Oliver and my outcome is statistically bound to fail. We are destined for destruction, and I will not lie to this man, not even for just a little more time with him.
I wipe my cheeks. “We fall apart.”
“Why?”
“Because of our jobs, mostly. I’ll never leave my team and I’d never ask you to give up your resort.”
Our fingers lace together. “You love the beach, I love the mountains. You want kids, and I won’t ever let a child live like I did. Not to mention, we started this entire thing off on a lie.”
The sad part is, he’s not wrong.
“Sometimes it’s just easy to forget all that.”
“I know, but then I remember all the things we’ve said about what we want. I remember how it feels when you want something and it isn’t yours to have. I’ve been second choice one too many times.”
“Who says you’re second choice now?” I ask.
Oliver shakes his head. “You were going to marry another man named Oliver, and I pretended to be him. You and I didn’t start this because we wanted to date. We did it to give your father a chance to walk you down the aisle. I’m literally the last choice here. You chose the other guy, your dad, and then me.”
“That’s not true.”
But it is.
“I have made a series of bad choices when it comes to love, Maren. I’ve deluded myself far too many times, thinking that if I just loved enough or tried a little harder it would be fine. It never is. The truth doesn’t change just because two people wonder or wish.”
“Isn’t that the very definition of wishing? Wanting something you know is out of reach but desiring it anyway. Wishes come true, Oliver.”
When I look at him, the statistical outcome stops mattering and all I see is a future I want more than my next breath. The two of us would grow old together and split our time between the resort and Virginia Beach.
As if it were always right in front of me, a new set of events unfold, a new map drawing carving a path through a hypothetical life. Mark and Jackson would allow me to work from home when I went to visit him. Neither of us would have to give up anything.
All we have to do is be brave enough to take the first step.
He rests his forehead on mine. “I can’t risk it on a wish and I can’t be anyone’s second choice.”
I lean back, cradling his face in my hands. I understand his hesitancy, but sometimes you have to take a leap, and I’m about to jump headfirst. I lean in, pressing my lips to his. “You’re not and I was wrong about our outcome because it’s not defined. We can make it work if it’s what we both want and I want you. Take a chance . . . for us.”
Oliver doesn’t respond with words, instead, my back is against the plush couch, his body on mine and he’s kissing me. There’s a difference this time that I can’t explain. It’s as though he’s giving in as well as saying goodbye.
I chase that away, kissing him back.
“You make me want things,” Oliver confesses, looking down at me. “Things I swore I’d never want again.”
“We can have them. We just have to try.”
He closes his eyes, resting his forehead on mine. “We can try.”
When he kisses me this time, I don’t feel goodbye, I just feel hope.
Twenty-Two
OLIVER
“I’ll see you soon,” I promise Maren, lingering so I don’t have to let her get into her car and drive away.
Time moved far too fast for me. We’re back in Willow Creek Valley, but she’s getting ready to head home, which will officially begin our attempt at a long-distance marriage.
The irony of this is amusing.
“I’ll come back in two weeks. I have a mission this week I need to be in the area for and then we have a lull.”
“All right.”
“Can I call you tonight?” Her voice is full of embarrassment.
“You better.”
“I’m going to miss you, Ollie.”
I pull her to my chest, loving how easily she fits there. “I’ll miss you, but thankfully, I’ll have the memories of this morning to carry me through.”
Her cheeks are painted a lovely shade of pink, and I imagine her naked, hands tied over her head, gripping the headboard as I ate her out. I fucked her so hard I pulled a muscle in my groin, but the memory will carry me through the weeks.
“Yes, well . . .” She steps closer, her finger touching the hull of my throat. “Next time, I think maybe I should tie you up.”
“You do?”
“Yup. Then I can torture you.”
“Did you forget the hot tub?”
Maren smiles. “I’ll never forget that.”
I am a lucky man to have this woman. “Neither will I. Now, get your sexy ass back in that car and call me when you get home.”
She leans in, kissing me again. “I will. Don’t go marrying any other damsels in distress.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Maren hesitates at the door to the car. “We’re going to make this work, Oliver.”
Her determination makes me believe it’s possible. I’m not sure how, but she seems resolved.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say before kissing her forehead.
That’s all we really can do. We’ll try, and if it fails, then . . . I won’t be shocked.
“I’ll find out tomorrow what Mark did with the license.”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
He hasn’t answered his phone the last few days, but Natalie told Maren that he’s dealing with a situation and that she’d have answers for her when she returned. Whatever that means.
I have a gut feeling it means we’re now legally married.