Moments later, when Rory lifted his head and searched her eyes, she couldn’t stop the most brilliant smile from spreading across her mouth. He returned it.
And Olive Cunningham fell completely and irreversibly in love with Rory Prince.
CHAPTER TWELVE
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Panic trickled into Olive’s veins as her eyelids cracked open, allowing the morning light to reach in and blind her. Which didn’t help her total disorientation one bit. The sounds that had typically reached her ears over the last few weeks were ocean waves crashing, metal store fronts opening, joggers chatting as they ran past her building. Not her parents and siblings and giggling, muffled by her bedroom door. Had she dreamed moving to Long Beach? Had she dreamed Rory?
Olive’s heart dropped into her stomach at the thought and she cracked an eye open once again, praying she would find herself lying on flannel sheets that smelled of man and musk. No way she could dream so elaborately. No way she could dream someone so complicated and beautiful, could she?
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Please no. Please…
The sun shining through the window dimmed briefly and the outline of Rory came into view. And her heart shifted back into place but made no move to resume its normal rhythm. He was shirtless, standing across the room, sweatpants slung low around his hips, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. Tattoos clung to his skin the way she’d done last night, blacks and blues and a hint of red here and there. God, so hot. So insanely, ridiculously, movie-star-quality hot. There was a line of concentration between his brows, and Olive finally realized where the familiar sounds of family bonding were coming from. Rory’s laptop was open on his dresser. He was watching a Meet the Cunninghams video?
Trying to ignore the discomfort that rippled through her chest, Olive sat up slowly. “Um. Why are you watching that?”
Rory turned to her with a casual smirk, as if about to make a dry remark, but whatever he saw on her face caused him to slam the laptop shut, concern blanketing his expression. “Hey. I…shit, sunbeam. I’m an idiot.” He dropped the towel and crawled toward her on the bed, hitting her nose with clean, soapy, male goodness. “I woke up a while ago and I started worrying…” A beat passed as he shook his head. “Three bachelors live here and we almost never clean. It was never any great shakes to begin with, but we’ve kind of destroyed it over the years. You must be used to much nicer. I was kind of torturing myself by finding out the kind of house you grew up in. But I didn’t think it would be torture for you.” He pressed her back into the pillows with a long, slow kiss. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her body screaming to life beneath the sheets. “Why are you up so early? It’s Sunday.”
In the short space of time it took them to kiss, his pupils had bled completely into his green irises. “I’m prepping the bar now almost every day. I have to go marry the liquor bottles, stock the shelves, do some paperwork.” He made a harsh sound. “Of course, as soon as I volunteer for the job, I’ve got a reason for never wanting to leave this bed.”
“That’s quite a coincidence.”
“No. Not a coincidence,” he said quietly, laying his lips along her right cheek. “You’re the reason I volunteered for the job. The reason I wanted more responsibility.” His mouth trailed lightly across her mouth to lay a feathery kiss on her left cheek. “See, I don’t deserve you. And I’m not even sure I was aware of what I was doing…but I know now. I was trying—I am trying to earn you a little at a time. I just want to earn you.”
Olive had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting I love you. That wet, melting sensation was back between her thighs, her mouth was dry, her heart was rapping against her ribs. God, she was a complete mess over this man and he thought he had to earn her? “Rory—”
“Olive.” Rory brushed her hair back from her face, a harsh laugh scraping out of his mouth. “Do you have any idea how fucking cute you look right now? Hair all messy, mouth puffy, eyes still half closed. If I don’t get out of this room in one minute, I won’t leave.”
“What would you do?”
“Stop.” The deep resonance of his sexually frustrated tone made goose bumps rise on every inch of her skin. “Go back to sleep. When you wake up, go next door to Jiya’s house. I’ve already asked her to give you a ride home. Will you do that for me?”