Page 81

Olivia laughs. “At least it would be entertaining.”

The door swings open abruptly, cutting through our banter like a knife. My heart stutters as Zeke steps inside, commanding attention without even trying. He scans the room before locking eyes with me. There’s something electric in that look—intensity mixed with warmth—and suddenly his presence dampens the lightheartedness.

“Everything alright?” he asks casually but with an undercurrent of concern.

My stomach flutters uncomfortably.

“Oh sure. Just planning our takeover,” Lydia replies mischievously.

Zeke raises an eyebrow as if assessing whether she’s serious or not before shifting his gaze back to me. I wonder what thoughts are swirling in that complex mind of his right now.

He steps closer to me, cups my chin, and lifts my lips to his. It’s a chaste kiss, but no less electrifying. It leaves me wanting more. But he turns and leaves the room, the door clicking shut behind him with finality.

“Wow.” Olivia fans herself off. “That was hot.”

“Eve’s not the only person who has a hot man.” Lydia leans forward, her martini glass swaying precariously. “What’s going on with you and Seb? I saw you two getting cozy at the bar last week.”

Olivia’s cheeks flush as she waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, that? It’s nothing serious. Just having some fun.”

“Fun?” I arch an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re calling it.” Olivia tosses back the rest of her wine. “Not everyone needs a marriage certificate to enjoy themselves, Mrs. King.”

“Ouch.” I press a hand to my chest in mock offense, though her words hit closer to home than I’d like to admit.

Lydia giggles, the sound slightly slurred. “Come on, Liv. Seb’s totally into you. He looks at you like you’re breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“Please.” Olivia rolls her eyes, but there’s a slight tremor in her hand as she reaches for the bottle to pour another drink. “Seb doesn’t do relationships. He’s made that perfectly clear, and that’s fine by me. I’ve had enough complications in my life.”

“Complications like your ex?” I ask softly.

“Among other things.” She shrugs, but there’s tension in her shoulders now. “Look, what Seb and I have works because it’s simple. No expectations, no promises, just fun.”

“And amazing sex,” Lydia adds with a wicked grin.

Olivia’s laugh sounds genuine this time. “That too. But seriously, I’m good with how things are. Seb’s not looking for anything more, and neither am I.”

I share a knowing look with Lydia. We’ve both seen how Seb watches Olivia when she’s not looking, the way his usual playboy facade slips just a fraction. But if Olivia wants to maintain this illusion of casual fun, who are we to push?

“Well, then.” I raise my glass. “Here’s to uncomplicated fun.”

“And mind-blowing orgasms,” Olivia adds with a wink.

Our laughter mingles with the muffled bass from the club below, and for a moment, I almost believe in the possibility of keeping things simple.

The door opens again, and this time Micah enters with a petite woman by his side. Her head is bowed, long red curly hair falling forward to hide her face. Her shoulders hunch inward, making her appear even smaller than she already is.

“Ladies,” Micah’s deep voice fills the room, “I’d like you to meet someone.”

The woman lifts her head slightly, and I glimpse her face—fair skin dotted with freckles, and eyes the color of fresh grass. A dark bruise mars her left cheekbone, poorly concealed by makeup.

“This is Naomi,” Micah continues, his large hand resting protectively on her shoulder. “She’s my daughter-in-law. Lucas’s wife.”

The temperature in the room drops several degrees. I’ve heard stories about Lucas Hunt—Micah’s only son—and none of them are good.

“Ex-wife,” Naomi whispers, her voice barely audible over the muffled club music. “Or at least, I’m trying to be.”

Micah’s expression darkens. “Lucas … he’s not the man I raised him to be. Naomi needs a safe place, people she can trust.”