Page 27

It’s been a week, and it’s time for me to find Olivia. I’ve hated leaving her alone for so long, but I wanted to give her space. Wanted to give myself time to properly put myself in her shoes. To understand her perspective.

She’s right. I have no clue what she’s gone through. How what I say might have been offensive to her. And believe it or not, my daughter was the one to give me a proper talking-to when I sat moping around our house.

When she sat down on the couch next to me and tucked her legs up under her, I knew I was in for a conversation. As standoffish and grumpy as she’s been the last few years—granted she’s fifteen, so I can’t really blame her—having her settle in means we’re going to have a serious discussion.

She’s got something to unload on me.

“So, Dad. Remember how Mom was when I gained a few extra pounds?”

I nodded to her, already hedging my bets on where this was going.

“I hated myself for so long because of it.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Cassidy held up her hand. A move her mother was famous for.

“It just—I want to remind you that being too thin is just as unhealthy as having some extra weight, and Dad, I’ve seen Olivia. She’s not that big.” My daughter blinked at me meaningfully.

Sighing, I nodded and rubbed my thumb across my mouth. “Have you been talking to your brother about this?”

Cassidy gave me a look, and it was the final nail in my resolve.

“You’re never going to understand completely what it’s like to be a woman.

How other people—guys and girls alike—look at us.

Dissect us. Every single part of us. It’s not fair, but that’s how it is.

So, just keep that in mind when you apologize. ”

It was one heck of a mature viewpoint. One I needed.

One that sends me to find Olivia in her lab, going over her notes and charts.

She doesn’t smile at me like she usually does, and I get why she’s tentative. Or at least, I think I do.

“Hey.” Such a stupid way to open up this conversation, but I’m at a loss I’ve never experienced before.

“Hey.” Her voice is soft and sweet.

“I feel the need to apologize again. For”—I laugh a little, sardonically—“well, for being a man. For not understanding. I don’t think I ever will if I’m being honest. I don’t know how I could. But I want to.”

“That’s a good start.” This time, she does give me a smile. A small one.

“My kids have really helped me shift my perspective. I don’t know when they both got so much damn smarter than me, but it’s happened.”

Her laugh eases the tight clamp around my ribs that’s been there since she pushed me away. It makes me step a little closer.

“How many kids do you have?”

This time, it’s my turn to smile. “Two. My son, Junior, is twenty-one, and my daughter, Cassidy, is fifteen.”

“And their mom?”

“We’ve been divorced for ten years. She left to be an actress.” Which hurt at the time, but we don’t have any lingering resentment. Tilly deserved to pursue her dreams the same way as she supported me when I pursued mine.

Olivia searches my face for what I can only assume is the fallout from that bomb. Her hand covers mine on the lab table. “That sounds like it sucked.”

“Yeah. It did.” I turn my hand over and lace our fingers together, so glad to have her touch me. Even something as small as this. “We’re friendly acquaintances now. Enough to finish raising our children at least. She got her break a year ago, and Cassidy came to live with me.”

“I bet that was a big change.” The soft emotion in her voice pries something open in me that I’ve kept hidden for a long time. Kept hidden away from every relationship I’ve had since Tilly.

“It was, but a welcome one. She had a hard time in Hollywood.” Like she just reminded me—being watched, judged by her weight, her clothes, her makeup and hair.

Not being seen for who she is. Being compared to her mother.

The transition was hard on her, mostly pushing my buttons to see if I would try to buy her love and happiness like her mother did.

“I think she’s in a good place now. Definitely a teenager with all of the baggage that comes with it, but she’s a good kid. ”

“Good. I bet that environment was ruthless, especially as she started puberty.”

I chuckle darkly. “Yes. I bet you understand that better than I do. Puberty gave me height and machismo.”

“ Machismo . How old are you, Waylen?” Olivia pushes at my shoulder with her free hand, but it’s playful.

And it’s the first time she’s called me by my first name. “Much too old to not know better.”

Her eyes glitter at me.

“Do you really want to know?”

She nods.

“I’m forty-six. An old man. I have a hard time changing my ways. You make me want to though.”

Her eyes widen. At my age or my admission, I’m not sure. But she slides a step closer. “Wow, you are an old man.”

I grin at her. “Does that bother you?”

“No.” The answer is fast and honest.

We seem to hover in this tentative peace. A small bit of intimacy that has everything to do with who we are instead of how others see us. I want to hold her against me, not just to feel her body, but because I’ve missed the comfort of being close to her.

Her hand slowly pulls out of mine though, and she looks back at her paperwork.

“Since you’re here. Would you help me with my own labs? I’m not quite strong enough to take my own blood.” She bites her lip, and I smile at her.

“Of course.” I take the needles, tubes, and band. Tying it around her bare arm, I press my thumb across her veins. They’re big and blue at the crook of her elbow.

She’s not a weeny when I slide the needle in and start filling the first vacutainer tube. “How many?”

“Three. I’m running a regular yearly panel.” Olivia doesn’t watch the blood. She watches me instead, head tipped to the side.

Most of the women in my life don’t get to see this side of me. The competent doctor. I work with mostly males. They don’t get offended by my gruff bedside manner. I’m tough. Some women and girls can handle it. It’s not like I’m unsupportive, but I won’t let them get away with half-assing it.

I’m pretty sure that’s what drew Olivia to me as a student. She’s been like that with me. I can’t half-ass it with her.

The draw is easy, and I’m taping her up with a gentle touch that I can’t seem to help but use on her.

“What about the rest of the tests? Checking your heartbeat, lungs…” Any excuse to keep touching her.

That knowing look she gives me doesn’t keep her from saying, “Yeah. It would be good to get another opinion to compare to what I hear.”

I take her stethoscope and settle it in place, breathing on the chestpiece to warm it up before I press it over her heart.

Why does this feel so intimate? I count her heartbeats, and her beats per minute are elevated. Is that because of me?

“Breathe. Inhale for four. Hold for four. Exhale for four,” I instruct, counting with her through a few rounds before I listen again. It’s better. “Eighty-two. Very good. I bet it’s better when you do it yourself.”

Her laugh is soft, and her fingers traipse down my tie. “It is, but that’s still good, considering.”

I grin at her and shift to listen to her lungs, hitting all twelve points in front—probably a little overkill—then the eight places in back. I’m nothing if not thorough.

If she checked mine, she would hear my erratic pulse and the strain in my lungs as I try to breathe her in as deeply as possible. I want her like crazy.

I’m still behind her when I set the stethoscope down. “Do you still plan to accompany me to the gala? I wasn’t lying when I said a lot of people will be there for you to discuss your work with.”

Olivia peers over her shoulder at me. “Yes. I will go with you.”

It’s a relief. And she must see it in my face or my stance. She’s so observant.

Now that I’m done, I’m almost afraid to touch her. I settle for tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Her hand comes up to press my palm to her cheek. My fingers trail over her neck.

“I do find you breathtakingly beautiful. Your curves. How you move. Sure. But I’m also taken by your intelligence, your confidence, your passion.

” I lean in to whisper against the shell of her ear.

A soft confession. “I especially like how you can be submissive when I want control. That you won’t let me do anything you’re not comfortable with. ”

I try to keep my bolder impulses to myself. “And you will put me in my place when I need it. I find that I like that far more than I thought I would. No one else has ever tried.”

The admission is far more intimate than I intended at the onset of this, but now, I’ve found I can’t keep myself from wanting more from her.