She made her way around the edge of the foyer toward Tate. But just before she reached him, her mother turned from saying goodbye to someone and faced Tate.
“Do you have your agent’s information?” she asked him.
He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and offered it to Teresa. “I told him you’ll be contacting him—”
“For what?” Olivia stepped up to them, curious but cynical, and looked directly at her mother. “Why would you need to talk to Tate’s agent?”
“Oh, don’t worry about—“ her mother started.
“He’s looking for a planner to help out with—“ Tate said at the same time.
Anger shot through Olivia’s gut, and she grabbed for the paper. But her mother didn’t let go and Olivia found herself in a tug of war.
“No, mom,” she said, stern but under her breath so she didn’t make a scene. “No more jobs until you finish the ones you
have.”
“Olivia…” Tate said, concern in his voice.
“This isn’t your business,” Teresa told Olivia. “It’s not for you to say—”
“This isn’t just your business either. Think of Quinn. She worked her ass off here today because you cancelled the help. That’s. Not. Okay.” She yanked at the paper, but her mother had a solid grip on it and the paper ripped. Olivia crumbled the piece and Tate stroked a hand across her shoulders. “You don’t have to like what I’m saying, but if you want to keep this business, you’d better at least research it. And until you have a full, solid plan set in place, stop taking jobs. I’m telling you this because I care.”
“It’s been a long day,” Tate said, his voice soft as he curled her close beside him. “Are you ready to go?”
A wave of regret washed over her, and she covered Tate’s hand with her own, turning away from her mother. “Yeah, I am.”
She dropped the paper on the way to Tate’s truck. He opened the passenger’s door, but turned her to face him.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” she said at the same time.
He smiled. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
She slid to the middle of the seat and cuddled close for the drive home. The night was warm but not humid, and the night air smelled good. Within two minutes of driving away from the Croft’s home—and her mother—Olivia relaxed. With Tate beside her, her heart filled. It filled and filled and filled until her ribs ached. Until she couldn’t get close enough.
Curling her feet underneath her, Olivia moved even closer and pressed her lips to his neck. His sigh was like a drug, making Olivia light headed. Then he stroked a hand through her hair, but to Olivia it felt like fire between her legs.
This was crazy. This was wild. She didn’t know what this was.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered against his skin. “I want you so bad.”
“Mmm, baby.” He shifted in his seat. “I’m wishing I didn’t live quite so far into DC right now.”
The sudden, intense desire was so hot, she didn’t know what to do with it. “I can’t wait.”
He laughed softly.
“No.” She pulled away and looked out the windshield then told Tate, “I mean it. I can’t wait. Pull over.”
He did a double take. “Are you—”
“Serious? Yes. Here, by the river.”
They were just crossing the Potomac. Olivia pushed her sandals off with her feet, then slipped her panties off and started working on his jeans.
Tate took a side road and slowed.