Page 37 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

Chapter Eighteen

Olivia

“ H as your girlfriend always been this competitive?” Dave, Sophie’s husband, asks, and a thrill runs through me at the term girlfriend .

Luke smiles proudly and nods in agreement, “Yup.”

“Don’t let him lie to you. He brought me here mainly so I can whoop all your butts this season,” I add, a smirk tugging on my lips as I perfectly place a red candy on one of my little Christmas trees.

I don’t know what caused me to have a competitive side, but I have this uncontrollable need to win.

Maybe it all stems from my childhood. As the youngest of three, I had to fight for attention.

Alright, I didn’t have to fight for attention, but I did have an older brother and sister who loved to beat me at every board or video game that we owned.

I was smaller and younger, so naturally I had something to prove to them, especially when they’d tease me every time I’d lose. That competitive streak only grew when I started my business and felt like I had something to prove to everyone in Covewood. And to myself. Failure isn’t an option for me.

As I place a little marshmallow snowman perfectly in front of my beautiful A-frame gingerbread home, I know Luke and I are going to win.

I smile confidently at Jerrica. I have to give it to her and Rebecca, who are working as a team, because their design is beautiful with its rainbow sidewalk made out of skittles, candy cane fencing, and stick-shaped pretzels that give it a log cabin feel.

I want to live in the delicious home. However, I refuse to compliment them until after Luke and I win.

“What do we even win?” Sophie asks, frowning as Emma squeezes the frosting bag too hard, a white glop landing on top of the roof. “It’s okay we can make it into snow,” she tells her when Emma looks as if she’s about to cry.

“The winner gets a gift basket,” Luke’s grandmother announces.

I instruct Luke to finish placing the candies on the trees when I look up to see what we will be winning.

Yes, I am that confident. She’s holding a beautiful brown wicker basket, and inside are two pairs of fuzzy Christmas-themed socks, a candy cane printed blanket, several boxes of candy, and matching Santa face mugs.

Do I need any of those items? No. Do I want them for the sake of winning? Yes.

“That’s unfair. Olivia has the upper hand since she decorates cakes and stuff for a living,” Uncle Leo says, frowning down at his house, which has a wall caving in that he’s trying to fix.

“That’s not true. I tried my hand at fondant, but I wasn’t the best at decorating with it. Plus, when I switched to using organic and locally sourced ingredients, I came up with the concept of only decorating with herbs and botanicals,” I say, placing down a round peppermint.

“What’s the name of your business?” Dave asks, no longer participating in the competition and allowing his wife and daughter to take over .

“Olivia’s Goodies,” Luke announces with another prideful smile.

I grin at him. A pleased warmth moves its way up my neck, into my cheeks, and settles in the tips of my ears. I love knowing that he’s proud of me.

“Why that name?” Uncle Leo asks, frowning as he tosses down his bag of icing in defeat.

“What I bake is not only good because it’s delicious, but it’s also good because of the ingredients I use, which is a better alternative because it’s less toxic. And since I source a lot of my ingredients locally, it’s good for the businesses in my small town.”

Jerrica smiles at me, a nod of approval. However, Uncle Leo is studying me with a confused expression. “Why do you care so much about the ingredients? It’s all sugar.”

I set down the bag of candy in my hands and look up at him.

“I understand that it’s still sugar and carbs, and both should be consumed cautiously.

The ingredients you put into your body matter.

I like knowing that when someone eats my organic sweet potato streusel muffins or my lavender-Earl Grey cake, I can give them a less-toxic option in a treat. ”

“It’s Olivia’s own special way of taking care of people. She’s always had a big heart for serving others. When she told me the reason why she chose to switch to organic ingredients, I couldn’t have been prouder of her.”

My face swings to Luke, and his words sink into my heart.

Luke doesn’t just make me feel seen. He makes me feel valued.

As if I hold a place in his life that no one else does.

I stare at Luke as a fuzzy feeling spreads through my chest. I wish I could ignore it because it seems too vulnerable, but it’s hard to do when he keeps looking at me like that.

Like I’m someone he cherishes.

He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, his thumb rubbing against the side of my face, his eyes dancing with mine in such a way that has my heart thumping wildly .

“Come here, my little cupcake,” he says, pulling me into his lap.

He laughs when I let out a squeal of surprise. His breath is warm as it hits the back of my neck, sending a zipping pulse through my blood. I recognize it as the same feeling from last night. I swallow loudly before I turn to my left so I can look back at him.

“Well, I have to say that I love your business ideas, Olivia,” Nonni says, her voice piercing through whatever moment Luke and I were just having.

I stay in Luke’s lap, attempting to focus more on the gingerbread house and not on how he has kept his hands on my legs, his calluses snagging on the fabric on my jeans, where I have little holly leaves and berries embroidered onto them.

I’m internally coaching myself through these new feelings, trying to convince myself that I don’t enjoy sitting in Luke’s lap, specifically.

Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t sat in a man's lap or had large, cozy hands on me like this in a long time.

I’m fighting to not enjoy this, but it's hard to convince myself it's just pretend when Luke's full attention on me feels like I'm the air he needs to live. Even if this relationship is staged, whatever’s been building between us has been transforming into something new.

“Can we change the music? If I hear Mariah Carey sing another song I’m going to lose my mind,” Uncle Leo states, and I know who he reminds me of now. Uncle Frank from Home Alone . The thought alone makes a laugh shoot out of me, and everyone turns to look at me.

“I have a song request,” I say and face Jerrica, who has her phone in her hands. She looks up at me and waits for my suggestion. “‘Kiss’ by Prince.”

She smiles brightly at me, already typing on her phone, and Luke’s body stiffens beneath me. I study his reaction and raise a brow in a challenge. He gives me a smug smile, his eyes already on mine .

As the song starts playing, I look around the table to see that everyone has gone back to working on the last touches of their gingerbread houses, and I’m not sure any of us are prepared to hear Luke’s voice coming out high-pitched as he sings along to the lyrics.

Luke loosens up as his grandmother joins in, and then his Aunt Andy and his cousins.

It’s enough to encourage him to sing even louder.

He moves close to my ear, his breath hitting the sensitive skin, and I flush with heat.

He shimmies his shoulders to the beat, bouncing me on his legs, and places his hands onto my hips to steady me.

A laugh climbs up my throat, and I tip my face back to let it out, my head resting on Luke’s shoulder, until he starts dancing again and takes my hands to move me with him. I turn until I can look at him over my shoulder, because I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.

He winks, singing the lyrics to me, and then I realize just what those lyrics are saying and how there’s a hidden truth shining behind Luke’s eyes, especially when he puckers his lips at me and makes a kissing sound just as Prince does in the song.

I don’t have time to decipher its meaning, because Luke raises his voice so high to meet with Prince’s that it causes him to have a coughing fit, and I have to hold my stomach from laughing so hard.

Once the song is over and the laughter softens around us, I lean back against Luke, feeling his heart mirroring mine as it pounds quickly against my back.

He lifts up to grab his water bottle, and as he takes a drink, his eyes are fixed on mine.

I avert my gaze, allowing them to trail up the strong column in this throat as his Adam's apple bobs with each gulp, moving the stubble covering his jaw.

Thankfully, a distraction in the form of Davis enters the room, which I’m only thankful for about five seconds, until I sense the change in Luke. His body stiffens, his hands grip my leg tighter, and his breath hitches in his throat.

I hate this for him. That just being in the same room as his dad has this effect on him. I hope he’s able to overcome this before we have to leave tomorrow.

Davis’ nurse is pushing him through the doorway and into the dining room where we are all gathered.

His eyes wander around the room, appearing more tired than I’ve seen him this weekend, until they land on Luke’s.

Davis gives him a small nod in greeting before the nurse stops him in front of Luke’s grandmother.

She smiles at her son, a sadness clearly written in her features, and she reaches out to take his hand into hers. From the sound of their past, her and Davis bumped heads a lot throughout the years, but even so, a mother will always love her son.

“Davis, will you do us the honor of choosing the winner?” she asks, and we all sit up straighter, placing our candies and tools down beside us, understanding that our decorating time is up.

“Yeah, sure. But no one is allowed to be mad at me if I don’t choose you. Okay?”