Exposed by Fate (19 page)

“You’re not making sense, Oliver.”

“I’m
trying
. It’s hard to think when all I want to do is fucking
hold
you.” He shot to his feet and strode closer. She thought he might kiss her and knew even then, she would never be able to resist him. If he touched her, she’d be his. In a heartbeat. It scared her just how much certainty she had in that fact. And the fact that she’d never get over him. Not as long as she lived.

At the last second, he bypassed her and closed the door, bathing her in acute disappointment. She tried to squash it, along with the hope that had bloomed hearing that he wanted to hold her. She’d been down that road, though. It was a dead end. “Why don’t you start with answering my question? Where is Porter?”

Oliver took a step in her direction, but Eliza got the impression he was blocking the exit. “Porter isn’t coming.”

It didn’t even surprise her how little she cared. “Why?”

His throat worked. “When I called him this afternoon…I had the mute button pressed the whole time. He probably hung up after the first few seconds of silence.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t do it, babe. I can’t even stand the thought of him near you, let alone being the one to put you there.
I won’t do it
.”

Her chest felt like a dam about to give way, but she plugged the holes. She was too tired. Too wrung out. Clear, honest words. That’s all she could process at this point. “Why are you here in his place?” Yes, she was exhausted, but as soon as the question left her mouth, she grew terrified of not getting the answer she needed. Terrified she would.

Oliver closed the distance between them and grasped her upper arms. “
Eliza, all this time, all these wasted years, I’ve been trying to distract myself from what I needed. I needed
you
from the day we met, and I’m an idiot for ignoring what my fucking
soul
was trying to tell me. You waited for me, and I didn’t wait for you. If there was something I could do to change that, I’d kill myself trying.” With a shaky breath, he reached down and took her hand, placing it in the center of his chest. “I know when you look at me you see a man who has used and been used. You think I have nothing left to offer you.” His eyes burned. “Believe me when I tell you that
no one
has touched what I’ve got inside me for you, Eliza.
Just. You.
It’s real. It’s the reason I’m alive. I’m alive to offer you
everything
. Take it. I’m begging you to take it. Take
me
. I’m so scared to find out what happens if you don’t.”

A deluge of relief and awe almost made Eliza collapse. She wanted to jump into his arms and promise to take everything he wanted to offer her. It would be so easy and be so achingly perfect. He’d drag her under, and she wouldn’t think about another thing but him. For a while. “I can’t compete with other women, Oliver.” A sob fell past her lips. “I don’t want to.”

He made a pained sound. “I wish you could feel what happens inside me when I look at you, Eliza. It’s like I finally have a future and it’s fucking beautiful. There will
never
be another person for me as long as you exist. Before I’d even had you, no one compared. Now that I have? The thought of being with someone else, the thought of
you
being with someone else, makes me insane. Believe what I’m saying.” His voice rang with intensity. “Please, Eliza. Just let me prove myself. I won’t let you feel a single second of doubt for the rest of your life.”

She thought back to that afternoon in the office, when she’d walked in and seen that girl sitting on his desk. At the time, she hadn’t let herself see beyond what appeared obvious. What she would
expect
to see if she hadn’t learned so much more about Oliver over the last few weeks. Now, with his raw promises ringing in her ears, she recalled the strain she’d seen on his face. The grimace she’d interpreted as a smile. How haggard he’d looked behind the desk as he leaned
away
. Not toward. She’d had an idea of Oliver for so long in her mind, she’d neglected to replace it with this man. This man who kept his word and treated her with respect. Love. This
amazing
man who wanted to be with her.

Her pulse sped up so fast, she felt lightheaded. She just needed a moment to gather her thoughts so she could say what he deserved to hear. “Why did you bring the ouzo?”

He brushed her hair over her shoulder. “If you won’t give me forever, I’ll beg you to stay with me…at least until the ouzo runs out. I’ll take whatever I can get, Eliza. Every last second.”

She threw her arms around his neck, wondering how the hell she’d held off so long. Her body molded to his, pressed close by his ferocious grip. Her nerve endings sang wherever they touched.
God
. Life without this would have been dark. “Forget the ouzo. I’m yours forever, Oliver. I’ve
been
yours forever.”

His body sagged, making them both stumble, but he caught them before they went over. Warm breath raced in her ear. “So I shipped forty crates of ouzo to your apartment this afternoon for no reason?”

Eliza laughed and felt tension ebb from every muscle. “Were you going to try and keep me on a technicality?”

“We both know I like to play dirty.”

Finally, he kissed her, but it dissolved into ragged moans. They breathed hard against one another’s lips. It felt so good to touch him. Without reservations or questions hanging in their air. She had her answer. Oliver.

He framed her face with his hands. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I will be destroying that outfit you’re wearing. I need to never see it again. I hate that it was meant for—”

“No.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth, her throat aching for what she’d put him through. What they’d put each other through. “I walked in here ready to cancel and saw you instead. I wasn’t going through with it. I couldn’t. Not when I love you this much.”

“
Thank Christ
.” He buried his face against her neck and exhaled on a shudder. “How did I survive this long without you? I love you, Eliza. It’s all I can feel. I’m made of it. If you’ve got even an ounce of this for me, I’m so damn grateful.”

She started to tell him that she felt more than an ounce of love, that her love for him felt bottomless, but he brought their mouths together before she had the chance, kissing her with such sweetness and reverence, a sob built up in her throat. “I want you so bad, babe, but I need you at home,” he husked at her lips. “I need
home
to mean Eliza. Unless I can wake up and see you beside me, I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to be anywhere.”

Love rising like a tide in her chest, Eliza stooped down and picked up the already uncorked bottle of ouzo. She pulled out the wood stopper and tipped it to her lips, before doing the same to Oliver. “I forgot to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“My grandparents didn’t just drink ouzo to seal business deals.” She shook her head. “They drank it on their wedding day. To celebrate their marriage.”

He heaved a breath. “Please tell me this means we’re already married.”

“Not quite.” She laughed against his mouth. “But I wanted to be yours since that first night. Wanted you to be mine.”

“Ah, bunny.” He kissed her hard. “I’ve been yours a lot longer than that.”

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Acknowledgments

To my husband and daughter who love me no matter who buys my books, thank you for being my family. I love you back times a million.

To my editors, Heather Howland and Kari Olson for such an awesome experience fixing up this book, I couldn’t have asked for more Oliver and Eliza love. Thank you.

To my fellow Serve series author, Katee Robert, for beta reading this book eons ago and giving me a giant thumbs up, along with some great notes, thank you.

To Jillian Greenfield Stein, to whom this book is dedicated, I can’t thank you enough for not only fielding my neurotic/panicked texts, but sending yours back in my direction. I treasure them all.

To Bailey’s Babes, my Facebook group, I love you guys. You’ve been waiting a long time for Oliver and I hope I delivered! You guys brighten every single day with your encouragement.

To the romance bloggers who preach the good word when they enjoy my books, thank you. I appreciate every tweet and Facebook post you put out there.

To the mega-hot, charismatic (and often goofy) man who inspired Oliver—and will not be named—thank you.

About the Author

New York Times
and
USA TODAY
bestselling author Tessa Bailey lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and young daughter. When she isn’t writing or reading romance, she enjoys a good argument and thirty-minute recipes.

www.tessabailey.com

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