I grab a pot from the cabinet below and the steamer basket, filling it with water, preparing to put it on the stove.
Olivia opens the cabinets, unfamiliar with my house. “What are you looking for?” I ask.
“I was going to help with setting the table, but I realize that I don’t know where anything is located.”
“Just sit and relax,” I say. “I’ve got dinner. You can help clean up if you want to do something.”
She scrunches her nose at my suggestion. “I hate doing the dishes.”
“Me too,” I say, laughing under my breath. “And here I thought you moving in would be doing me a favor.”
Olivia rolls her eyes, smiling at my brand of humor. At least she’s not upset with my suggestion and making her move in. I thought I’d have to fight her and convince her that it wasn’t safe, even showing her the apartment next door and the surveillance equipment we found.
I’m glad I won’t have to do that. Seeing and knowing are two different things.
I don’t want to put her through that invasion of privacy.
She grabs a seat at the counter on one of the stools. “Are you going to tell me why you’re still single? You’re hot, rich as fuck, and according to the papers unattached.”
Hiding the smile on my face, I glance up at her. I’ve never seen this side of her, vulgar, honest, open.
“Don’t believe everything you read,” I say.
Does she think I’m hot?
I find her attractive. It’s hard not to with her sinful hip sway. Every time she walks and is in front of me, my gaze lands right on her perfectly proportioned ass.
But I can’t act on those impulses. Even if I wanted to, it could ruin everything.
And now that she’s pregnant, there’s too much at stake.