Page 3 of Olivia’s Only Pretending (Sweet River #3)

Two

Lucy

so, what’s your plan for Victor after he finishes the bookshelves?

Me

those were his idea, actually

Lucy

poor guy, he’s got it bad

I knew he wasn’t ever going to call it quits when he decided to build you a new kitchen table and a bench to match

but that fancy deck is top tier

Me

this is his passion!

Lucy

you?

Me

WOODWORKING

Lucy

and you

Me

we’re just FRIENDS

he’s my YOUNGER FRIEND

Lucy

don’t know any guys your age who would build you a fancy deck

T he morning air was crisp, breezing through my kitchen window, making my blue bonnet vintage curtains dance. I was pouring the rest of the coffee from the pot into my travel mug when there was a knock on my door.

I glanced at the microwave clock: 7:12. I furrowed my brows as I shuffled to the door. Who would pay me a visit before working hours?

I pulled the door open to find Victor standing in my doorway. “Good morning,” he said with a big grin. His caramel eyes looked sleepy.

I was incapable of anything but grinning back. “Well, good morning. What’re you doing here so early?”

“I left my work bag here last night,” Victor said. He wore a black hoodie with the hood pulled on, a few dark waves curling at the edges. “I need it for a meeting. I was hoping to catch you before you left for work.”

I worked in a little college town about twenty minutes south of Sweet River.

I went inside to finish packing my work tote, while he grabbed up his bag from the living room. He wandered into the kitchen with it slung over one shoulder. The bag hung open un- buckled, and I glimpsed a book spine poking out— Wheelock’s Latin .

“Are you learning Latin?” I asked him as I dug through my tote.

He glanced toward his bag self-consciously, then flipped it closed. “I might be dabbling.”

“Am I rubbing off on you?” I put my hand to my chest proudly.

He didn’t answer, looking over my shoulder distractedly. “Liv, I’m going to close this window for you.”

“Thanks, I always forget. You know, a bird even flew in once,” I said, slipping my arms into my cardigan as he grabbed an apple off my counter. “Grab me, one too?”

He dropped the apple into my tote as I hung it over my shoulder. “A bird literally flew in before, and you were still about to leave it open?”

“Well, I don’t want the birds to think they’re not welcome,” I joked. Though I did love how they filled my trees and sang by my windows. “I really love them making a home in the backyard. I think they should have their own spot out there.”

“Their own spot?” Victor chuckled, following me out of the kitchen. “I think you mean a birdhouse ?”

“Something like that, yeah. There’s a little bird family out in the elm trees that could use a house,” I said.

Victor opened the front door for me. As I turned the lock, Victor leaned back against the door, his hood still on.

“You wear hoodies into the office?” I asked, raising a brow.

He grinned. “I wear hoodies to the gym. I’ll change after my workout.”

I nodded, stepping onto the porch. “Got to get your gains, huh?”

He shook his head, eyes crinkling. “You mock, but you like the results.”

My face went hot. Scenes from yesterday ran through my mind: Victor’s tight white T-shirt, sweaty and clinging to his chest, his biceps flexing as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous. “Someone’s feeling cocky.”

Victor’s eyes dropped to my blush. “I meant for renovation purposes . You know, the heavy lifting I’ve done around your house.” A grin cracked across his face as we crossed the rocky ground to our cars. “But, if you appreciate more than that, even better.”

I palmed my forehead with one hand, pulling my shiny white Prius’s door open with the other. “I’ll see you later, Victor.”

“See you, Liv,” he called, sing-songy as he sauntered to his black Silverado.

I turned the key in the ignition, and a metallic clanging sputtered from the engine. My heart sank. I knew that sound all too well. I tried again, turning the key again, but got the same sound.

“No.” I hit the steering wheel.

I’m in the middle of renovating. Busy with the Fall Seminar. Preparing my proposal. I don’t have time for car trouble and definitely can’t afford it. I turned the key once more—same splutter.

“Need a ride, baby girl?” a syrupy sweet voice asked outside my window.

I glanced up at Victor leaning over my car door. I pushed the door open. “I think my car is broken,” I whimpered.

“Pop the hood,” he said, walking to the front of my car.

I sat in the passenger seat of his truck, listening as he told me what he thought might be wrong. I nodded along.

“You won’t know for sure until it’s checked out professionally, though,” he said. “I could tow it over to the Rogers’ auto repair shop, but I’ll call ’em first. They might pick it up.”

He pulled out his phone and started dialing.

He helped me with my broken house one day, then helped me with my broken car the next. The man was multifaceted. I smiled to myself. It wasn’t hard to see why women fell all over themselves for him.

Silly, playful Victor one moment, and then confident and caring Victor the next, helping me like it was second nature.

I felt lucky about our friendship. That I’d walked into the coffee shop the day we met.

Lucky that even though we were years apart—missing each other’s groups and circles in school—God had brought us together now at just the right time. My heart had needed a friend like him.

Victor and I arranged for the auto shop to come pick up my car over the phone, then I pulled up my mom’s number to see if she could give me a ride.

He put his hand over the screen of my phone, shaking his head. “Hey, I’m right here. Let me take you.”

My chest twisted in guilt. I felt like he was always going out of his way for me. I didn’t want to interrupt his morning now, too. “Are you sure? You were here working on my deck last night. Now you’re going to mess up your morning by driving me out of town?”

He started his truck. “Happy to help,” he said casually. “Buckle up.”

“You’re always helping me,” I said softly, reaching for the buckle. “How can I help you?”

He ran his hand through his hair thoughtfully. “Stop scratching up the new dining table.”

“Victor.”

“Okay, okay. How about one of your famous grilled cheeses?” He hit the turn signal.

“I’m serious.”

The car slowed to a stop at an intersection. He swallowed. “I’ve been working on business plans, actually.”

“What?” I twisted toward him in my seat.

Victor had toyed with the idea of starting his own carpentry business a few times before, but noncommittally. He was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he could pull it off.

“It’s still in the early stages, low-key. But I would love a second opinion.” He paused, his eyes darting over to me. “And your opinion means a lot to me.”

“I’d love to see your plans. I’m excited you’re doing this.” I’d been quietly trying to encourage him, without pushing too hard. A few mini pep talks when he mentioned what he could maybe do someday.

I’d seen his work over the past few months. It had the potential to be big.

A few weeks ago, we’d stayed up late in my living room talking after working on some reno project. The conversation took a serious turn, toward the future.

We were sitting on my tan sectional. I was facing him, a soft pillow to my chest. It was dark, only a couple of table lamps on.

I’d opened up to him about how I dreamed of teaching new classes that excited me. I wanted to challenge myself and pour into my students in a new, fresh way.

He cleared his throat and told me he wanted to do something new, too.

He wanted a carpentry business of his own.

“I’ve thought about it. Maybe I would start small, just something on the side.

But it’d be cool if it grew over the years.

I’d start with furniture, tables, and chairs like I’ve done for you, then maybe one day …

renovations.” His eyes stayed on the pillow beside him, toying with the loose thread. “It’s just an idea, though.”

Victor’s eyes always turned downcast when conversations turned toward his potential in a way that made my hands ball into frustrated fists. He couldn’t see all the good I saw in him. I wished I could fight his doubts away.

“Victor, what’s holding you back from starting your business?” I leaned forward from the other end of the couch, my hair brushing across my shoulders.

“Starting a business is a lot of paperwork ? —”

“You can handle paperwork. I’ll help you with that. But is that really what’s stopping you from taking the leap?”

He swallowed, eyes still downcast. “I don’t want to try and flop. Be the only Hernandez flop of the family.”

“The only Hernandez flop?” A lump formed in my throat. The late summer sun dipped below the horizon outside the glass doors, casting a warm glow. Elm trees swayed in my backyard.

“Have you noticed that everyone in my family does these great things, makes these great lives my parents are so proud of, and then …” He took a long inhale.

I tapped his foot with mine across the couch. He pulled his eyes up to mine.

“Then there’s me.”

“Then there’s you—the one who can build the most beautiful things with his own two hands.

” I reached toward him, grabbing his hands in mine and shaking them.

“Who the city department would be lost without. Who makes everyone laugh. Who shows up for your family and friends every single time. The one everyone can rely on. No one else can say that.”

His hands stayed in mine, hanging between us. There was a small smile under his five o’clock shadow, those dark eyes searching mine. “Everything I do feels small in comparison to my siblings.”

“Then dream bigger.” I let go of his hands, but the warmth from his stayed like smoke from a fire. “But nothing about you doesn’t measure up. I don’t think you understand how significant you are.”

“I’m significant to you?” His voice was rough.

I could nearly feel it against my skin. He grabbed my bare foot in his hand. My heart quickened. We didn’t touch like that.

“Of course,” I whispered.

The way he looked at me shifted the energy in the room, like we were standing on the edge of a big expanse. I needed to step back to safer grounds.

“You’ve become one of my best friends.”

“You’re my best friend, too.” He pulled me toward him by my feet, making me squeal.

I was laughing and out of breath, with my face inches from his. His hands were still wrapped around my ankles.

Gulping for air, I said, “Start the business, if you want to. Don’t think about what your siblings are doing, or what you think you should or shouldn’t do, or if it could fail. Only think about what you want.”

“I do want it,” he confessed, releasing my ankles.

I pulled my legs close to my chest, back to safety, my heartbeat returning to normal. “Then I say go for it.”

Now we were pulling into the campus parking lot. “Just don’t mention the business plans to anyone yet. I’m waiting to tell my folks,” he said.

“Okay, but I know they’ll be proud.” He didn’t see how his mom beamed when he entered the room, or the hearty way his dad laughed at his jokes. How his siblings’ eyes shot straight to him at the dinner table, hanging on his every word.

But since he’d let me into his world, I saw.

I hung on his every word, too. I beamed at his smile. It was just the Victor effect.

I slid out of the truck and onto the pavement of the parking lot, stopping to say bye to Victor. But then he cut the engine and climbed out of the truck, too. He was supposed to drop me off and go on to work.

“What are you doing?” I asked from the passenger side.

“Getting out of my truck?” He cocked his head, as if I’d asked a ridiculous question. He slammed the driver’s side door behind him.

The air was cool. I tugged my sweater close around me. “Why? You don’t work here?”

“’Cause I’m curious about this place.” He wiggled his brows. “I want to see Liv’s world.”