Page 33 of Sweet Escape (Whispering Oaks Ranch #1)

Decaf Coffee is for Quitters

? Make You Mine - MaRynn Taylor

Olivia

Waking up in Wilder’s house for the third day in a row still feels like a fever dream.

Once I got my car back from the mechanic, I made a few more trips to the diner to finish bringing my things to the farmhouse.

I’ve spent the last few days making myself scarce, unpacking what little belongings I have in the guest bedroom.

My executive dysfunction has me stopping and starting the process multiple times, and I fear I may never finish.

The late-in-life ADHD diagnosis caught me off guard, but it helped me put together so many of the little puzzle pieces of my personality that never made sense to me in the past. Like why I’m always going on little side quests and can never finish what I start, or why I can eat the same meal for a week straight and suddenly be repulsed by it mid-bite.

I still struggle to cope with certain things, but I’ve learned to curb my expectations.

Still, being off my meds has been a challenge .

Sitting crisscross in the middle of my bed, surrounded by piles of color-coordinated shirts, I pull my phone out of my pocket and check my notifications.

I have a few messages from Grammy, checking in about the pregnancy and the move, but I still haven’t heard from my parents.

It’s disheartening, but I have to believe they’ll come around.

There’s a notification from the pregnancy app, a reminder that I have cupcakes to make for a client tomorrow, and a text from an unknown number. I tap into the text, and my entire body stiffens.

Unknown: We need to talk.

It’s either Amber or Jake. I delete the message and swipe over to my socials.

When I log into my account, the first thing I see is Amber’s new profile photo.

She’s standing at Red Rocks with her hand held up for the camera, a massive diamond on her ring finger as Jake kisses her cheek.

The proposal of my dreams between the man I thought I would marry and the woman I believed was my best friend.

I didn’t think I could be more devastated than I had been when I caught them together, but something about seeing Amber live out what I thought were my dreams is far worse than when I thought they were just fucking.

Did he love her the whole time I thought he was loving me?

While we were making plans for the future, were they laughing together behind my back?

A potent mix of heartbreak and fury threatens to consume me. If I let myself give in to the sadness, I’ll never come up for air, so I lean into the anger, letting it carry me down to the kitchen. The house is empty, but there’s a Post-it note on the counter .

Liv,

The coffee in the pot is decaf.

Fresh muffins in the case.

Don’t forget to take your meds.

Have a good day,

Wilder

Decaf coffee sounds like my own personal hell, but I know he means well. He’s just looking out for the baby. Begrudging my pregnancy just a little bit, I pour myself a cup and hope it acts as a placebo.

I smile softly to myself. How the hell did I end up here? Part of me is still hurt by what Amber and Jake did, but there’s another part—a much bigger one—that’s hopeful for the future. Wilder’s simple kindness is comfort in the chaos, so I pull out my phone and send a text message.

Olivia: Thanks for breakfast. xo

Wilder: You’re welcome. How are you feeling?

Olivia: Me and the littlest Hayes are doing okay. ??

Wilder: Good. Make yourself at home.

As I sit at the kitchen island with a cup of fresh hell and a blueberry muffin I wish were filled with an ungodly amount of chocolate chips instead, my mind travels back to the photo of Jake and Amber. Sue me, I’m feeling like a mug-half-empty kind of bitch today.

When did it start? How long into our relationship did they wait to maul each other?

I met Jake on a dating app, and we hit it off quickly.

He was my rebound from a catfishing incident that left me in a self-pity spiral of epic proportions.

A month later, I moved to Denver to see if we could make a go of it.

That’s when I met Amber through Jake’s best friend, who she’d been dating at the time.

We went on too many double dates to count, and Amber and I formed a bond that I thought was unbreakable.

About a year and a half into my relationship with Jake, they broke up, and Jeff stopped coming around as much.

In hindsight, I never could get a clear answer as to why they split.

Now I can’t help but wonder if Jake had been biding his time, waiting for her to be free.

Maybe I’d been the consolation prize all along.

Wilder

An impressive string of something adjacent to curses reaches my ears, and I step around the corner to find an incensed Olivia scrubbing furiously at the inside of the already pristine microwave.

She has her headphones in, so she must not hear me approach.

Her cheeks are flushed, and her hair is thrown up into a haphazard bun on the top of her head, so artfully disheveled.

The countertops are strewn with every dish and plate imaginable, cupboard doors thrown open, and the contents emptied onto the surface below.

Not wanting to interrupt whatever it is I’ve walked in on, I take up residence in the doorway, arms crossed over my chest as I settle in to watch the show.

She’s been tiptoeing around this house, trying to make herself as small as possible.

To see her this way, beautifully unbound, is a sight to behold.

She whirls around, tossing the sponge into the sink. Bubbles and water slosh over the sides on contact, soaking her shirt.

“Mother sucker!” She jumps back, the thin fabric of her loose crop top soaked through, her slightly more rounded belly hanging out the bottom. With a resigned sigh, she leans her elbows on the counter and rests her head in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut.

I slink up beside her, pressing pause on her playlist. “I think the word you’re looking for is motherfucker.”

She startles at the sound of my voice, grasping the handle of a whisk, wielding it in what can only be described as the world’s worst attempt at self-defense.

“Woah there, Cupcake. Stand down. You plannin’ to stir me to death?”

“Laugh it up, funny guy. You scared the sh–oot out of me,” she says, pointing it directly in my face this time.

“Why are we censoring ourselves?” I ask.

“I’m trying to get my swearing under control before the baby gets here, and because I’m going to be spending a lot of time around Emmy.”

“Hate to break it to you, but Emmy Lou is around a whole lotta creative cussing as it is between me and my brothers, and the rest of the hooligans around here. So, you might as well say what you mean, and we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

“You’re okay with your kids swearing like sailors?”

“Why not? You do it. I do it. As long as they’re not offending anyone in public, I think we have bigger fish to fry.”

She looks contemplative for a moment, then shrugs, returning to the pile of dishes on the counter.

“Liv. Is there something you wanna talk about? ”

She blows out a long breath through her nose, her tongue pressing into her cheek.

“Did I do something to upset you?”

“They’re engaged,” she says, tossing the whisk into the sudsy sink.

My brow furrows.

“Jake and Amber. He asked her to marry him at Red Rocks. I gave that man three years of my life with nothing to show for it, and he took my best friend, too. I did everything right and none of it fucking mattered.” She wipes her damp hands on a dish towel.

“I don’t even want him anymore, I couldn’t care less about that piece of shit, but it’s like my heart is grieving the life I left behind. The bakery, all the plans we made.”

The anger gives way to sadness as a single tear slides down her cheek.

I’m at her side in seconds, lifting her onto the kitchen island.

I push her legs apart and step between them, sliding my hands up her thighs just below the hem of her sleep shorts.

“They don’t deserve any more of your energy. Not another fucking tear, Liv.”

We’re face to face like this, her perfect pink lips parted, nipples pebbled beneath her damp shirt.

All it would take is for one of us to lean in and close the distance.

My thumbs dig into her flesh as I fight an internal battle with myself.

I want her so fucking badly, but not like this. Not when she’s been thinking about him.

“He never deserved you,” I say. “You have to know that.”

“I don’t understand why I wasn’t enough for him. Or maybe… maybe I was too much.” The uncertainty in her voice sets my teeth on edge. I wish she could see herself through my eyes—this force of nature, this kind soul, the mother of my child.

Have I not done enough to show her just how incredible she is? I scarcely remember what it’s like to care for someone other than E mmy, but she makes me want to try, and that’s a miracle in and of itself. Olivia is changing us for the better, and she doesn’t even know it.

“If he wasn’t man enough to handle a woman like you, that’s his problem, not yours. You’re beautiful, Olivia, inside and out. You deserve the fucking world. You deserve to be worshipped, every goddamn inch of you.”

“Show me.”

“Liv…”

“I don’t want to think about them anymore. Please.”

I slide my hand up her bare arm in a soothing motion. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I won’t.”

“We still have to live with each other, and I don’t think I could stand it if you regretted it.”

“I’m telling you, I won’t. Please, Wilder.” Her brows knit together, and she bites down on her bottom lip.

Sensing the self-doubt rising inside her, I say, “I want you, Liv. God knows, I do. So fucking badly, but I won’t take you if this is just a quick fuck to forget him. He doesn’t belong in anything that happens between you and me.”