Home Matters (A Ripple Effect Romance Novella, Book 1) (17 page)

But then it happened. She’d barely had the time to rekindle her belief in a happily-ever-after when the photo of Teresa plummeted before her eyes again, a curtain dividing her from her dreams.

She pulled away. “I’m not her,” she gasped. “I’m
not
the one you want.”

Pete’s head popped back, his eyes heady, confused. “You’re not the what?”

Olivia squirmed out of his grasp. “Don’t play dumb with me, Pete.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

Confusion clung to his expression, a parasite refusing to relent, to admit he was well aware whom Olivia was talking about. “Fine.” He took a step back. “But believe me, I know better than anyone, you’re not Teresa,” he said, a mixture of sorrow, and then something else—amusement, maybe?—shining through his gaze. “She was much sweeter than you.”

That hurt. Had he really twisted her trepidation over the passionate moments they’d shared into a joke? Either she’d misjudged him, which meant he was a class-A jerk, or he was hiding something. Not ready to accept the first without definitive evidence, she went with the second. “Do you really expect me to believe that my resemblance to your late fiancée had nothing to do with the reason you kissed me that day at the Calhouns?” she persisted. “Why you kissed me just now?”

Her frankness appeared to unsettle him as he reached out and touched two fingers to the sawhorse for support. Then, for an eternal minute, he consulted the dormant grass. “Look,” he started, his gaze lifting to find Olivia’s with a degree of seriousness she’d not thought him capable of. “I’m not saying my initial attraction to you didn’t, in large part, have something to do with a false hope that somehow you could replace her. And yes, the first time I kissed you, I
was
thinking about my fiancée.” He stopped, rubbing his scruffy cheeks with his hands. “But then after, when you took off with William, I realized that you could never replace her, that no one ever would—”

The small part of Olivia’s heart that had managed to remain intact through all this began to weaken, crumbling piece-by-piece to the abyss in her soul. “Then why did you kiss me again the night we painted and again just now?” She had to know. “And don’t even try saying it was because I kissed you first and you were only kissing me back out of politeness, or some other such nonsense. You might think I’m self-obsessed, but I know when a man is kissing me just because and when he’s doing it because he feels something too.” Stepping right up to him, she locked her gaze to his. “And why did you ask me for a reason to stay the morning you drove off and left me to fend for myself? You made me think you wanted us to be together.”

Pete dragged in a long breath. “Let me finish. As I was saying,” he began again. “Kissing you was nothing like what I’d felt with Teresa. That’s the honest truth,” he said, his eyes filling with tears. And behind those tears, Olivia could see that a war of competing emotions raged. “I… don’t… I can’t…” he fumbled, going on like this, his sentences beginning, then ending as he struggled against whatever else he needed to say, but couldn’t.

“Pete?”

Pete held up his hands. “Wait, let me try and get this out.” He turned away and looked to the sky, his lips mouthing the words,
I’m sorry
,
after which tears broke free, rolling over his suntanned cheeks. “I never would have thought it possible. But kissing you was intense, so,
so
much more intense than anything I’ve experienced before.” He looked to Olivia again, his voice measured, precise. “Even with Teresa.”

Olivia’s breath tangled on the pieces of her heart that came racing back, scrambling to reform a new whole. “Really?” she breathed.

Pete’s head began to bob up and down, a smile, ripe with affection, and touched by a hint of wantonness, spread the width of his face.

“Oh, yeah.” He opened his arms to her.

Without hesitation, Olivia threw herself into his waiting embrace. He closed his strong arms around her. She was finally right where she belonged. She was home. When her lips found his again, tiny bubbles filled every inch of her body, her feet lifting, floating from the ground—metaphorically this time. As their kiss deepened, her heart became light as well, full, and whole, until she couldn’t hold back her feelings any longer.

“Pete,” she said, her voice husky. “I know we hardly know each other and all, but I’ve never met a man who was willing to see me, the real me, the way you have. And even though you say you wanted to be fired from the show, you risked so much for me.” She pressed her palms to his chest, studied the back of her hands for how best to express what was consuming her heart. “And despite the fact you can be smug and obnoxious at times, and you’re not half as clever as you think you are”—she grinned into the affronted look on his face—“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say…” She took a breath and looked up into his gaze. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Pete’s eyebrows pinched together. “You ‘think’?” he asked, a smirk playing with his lips. “Afraid of heights are you? Of falling?”

He was teasing her again. “Unbelievable!” She pushed with all her might against his chest. “I say that I’m in… I mean, what I did, and you’re teasing me?”

Crossing her arms with a
humph
, she turned away. “Typical.”

“Now hold on there, fireball. Don’t go all supernova on me.” Pete chuckled. “I get that you climbed the proverbial tree or whatever. But out on a limb?” He shook his head and
tsked
. “Not so much.”

“Why are you making this so
difficult
?”

Tenderness found Pete’s voice again. “How ’bout I make it easier then?”

“That would certainly be a first.”

“What if I climbed up there with you,” he offered. “Be the first to fall? That way I’ll be there to catch you when you fall too?”

“I’m listening.”

Taking Olivia gently by the shoulders, Pete steered her around to face him again. “Olivia Pembroke,” he said, drawing out her name as if cherishing every syllable. “I love you. I have from the first moment I saw you leaning over the men’s room sink at Baron Broadcasting.” He brushed a gentle kiss across her lips. “You can be vain and self-absorbed, but there’s a depth to you, a fight I just can’t seem to get enough of.” He shook his head. Smiled. “What can I say? Guess I’m a man who craves a challenge. And I’m about ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure that you’re the woman who’ll do me the honor of rising to that challenge.” Releasing her shoulders, he wrapped both arms around her waist. “And there’s nothing I would love more than to spend the rest of my life working with you, arguing with you… loving you,” he finished. And like the floor of a canyon rising up to bridge the divide, his words filled the emptiness in Olivia’s soul. Painful, but at the same time, oh, so wonderful.

A smile blossomed from deep inside, spreading all the way to her head, her toes. But she held it to just beneath the surface. “Only ninety-nine point nine percent sure?” she questioned, though her arms had already traveled up his chest, her fingers in the process of linking behind his neck. “That’s not quite as good as one-hundred percent, now is it?” She lifted an inquiring brow. “You sure
you’re
not the one who’s scared of heights?”

A burst of love erupted from his gaze. “I’ll go to one-hundred if you will,” he proposed.

Olivia pretended to think this over. After all, she’d spent the better part of her life training to become an actor, which meant she knew better than most the importance of the dramatic pause.

When his smile began to falter, she decided she’d tortured him long enough.

“One-hundred it is,” she agreed. “That way we can catch each other.”

Read on for a sneak peak of Book 2 (Drew’s story) in the Ripple Effect Series

Dear Reader,

Thanks so much for taking time out of your busy day to read Home Matters. If you enjoyed the book and can spare the time, I’d appreciate a review on
Amazon
,
Goodreads
,
Kobo
,
Barnes and Noble
, or wherever else you feel inclined to leave one. Word of mouth is the best kind of advertising, and I could really use your help getting the word out.

I love to hear from readers. You can visit me at
 
JulieNFord.com
, on
Facebook
, and
Twitter
. 

Happy reading!

Julie

This should be the easiest part of writing a novel, but as usual I’m having a hard time finding the words needed to express my gratitude for those of you who helped me bring this novella to fruition. So, I suppose I should simply start at the beginning by thanking Kaylee, Rachael, and Karey for believing in my writing abilities enough to include me in this project. To Kaylee and Karey specifically for their editing genius. And to Rachael for her technical expertise, of which I have no idea about, but know was vital to putting the end result together. And then to Jennifer and Donna—it was super fun getting to know you both. A special thanks to my beta readers, Loree and Breeann, for helping me find the holes in my plot.

As always, I need to thank my husband and daughters for their undying support and patience while I was lost somewhere between the real world, where they needed me to be, and the world of my own making where they couldn’t reach me. And for putting up with all the HGTV shows I made them watch. I’m sure the family rehab we must now endure in order to combat our collective DIY addiction will only serve to bring us closer. And to those readers who have supported me through my short writing career, I’m eternally grateful to each and every one of you.