We all spun around in the direction the voice came from, and the introductions began all over again, this time with a little less talk about my looks and a little more on my experience and qualifications.
But still as Ollie.
Over an hour later, I’d personally met the entire staff of the DCF as we went around desk-by-desk so Monroe could introduce me to each of them, all of who were women except for one forty-something guy with his workspace tucked in the back corner of the office. I couldn’t figure out if I should feel sorry for or be envious of him for always being surrounded by nothing but women.
Much like at the gala the first night I met Monroe, everyone clearly adored, respected, and appreciated her. It was obvious she had spent a substantial amount of time building meaningful relationships with those she’d be working with on a daily basis. In my first few months at the Chicago house, I’d learned very quickly that the people at the DCFS—which it was called in Illinois—could either be my best ally or my worst enemy. They not only controlled what kids were placed in my home, but they also had a voice in the local judges’ ears, which went a long way in the few court placement battles I’d been involved in. I was extremely pleased to see that Monroe had everyone in her corner, though I really expected nothing else. We were all helpless against her magical charisma, drawn to her like moths to a flame.
By the time we’d made our way around and were leaving the office, it was almost noon, and the instant we stepped onto the elevator, my stomach growled loudly. Monroe snickered as her eyes cut over to me. “Are you always hungry, Ollie? I bet Miss Betty would love to feed you some of her home-cooking.”
Luckily for her, the car stopped on the seventh floor and three other people—who were obviously leaving for lunch—joined us on our ride to the ground floor, preventing me from tugging on her ponytail until she begged for mercy like I wanted her to. I shot her a warning look as she giggled to herself in the back corner, and as soon as the other people exited the elevator, Monroe took off like a bat out of hell toward the doors, knowing damn well I was hot on her sexy heels.
I didn’t catch up with her until we reached her car, and I’m not sure what came over me, but just as she went to extend her arm toward the door handle, I grabbed her wrist and twirled her around to face me, using my weight to loosely pin her up against the driver’s side door. “You think you’re so cute, don’t you, my peachy little Rizzo?” I goaded her. “Purposely trying to ruffle my feathers . . .”
“What? You don’t think I’m cute?” Exhilaration flickered in her green eyes, and when she pressed her lips together and rubbed them back and forth, a guttural growl rumbled in my chest.
“No, I don’t,” I rasped as I reached up with my free hand and used my thumb on her bottom lip to part it from the top one. She hissed in a swift stream of air as her pupils dilated, prompting my cock to spring to life. “I think you’re fucking beautiful . . . more on the inside than the out, though I have no idea how that’s even possible. You’re so goddamn perfect it scares me.”
“I’m far from perfect, Oliver,” she answered softly, holding my intense gaze.
Leaning forward to rest my forehead on hers, I whispered, “Monroe, when God made perfect, he made you.” Then, I did what I’d been dying to do since the moment I laid eyes on her.
I kissed her.
“We know
so perfectly
how to give birth
to the monsters
inside us,
but for reasons I
will never figure out,
we have not the slightest
clue of what to do
with all the
love.”
–Christopher Poindexter
Monroe
HIS MOUTH CRASHED down onto mine and my world shattered around me. Everything I thought to be true was suddenly in question as his strong fingers skimmed along my jawline, slipping around to the back of my neck and anchoring my head as they tangled in the loose tendrils at my nape, all as he pressed his tender yet demanding lips against mine. My mouth opened for him instinctively and our tongues effortlessly stroked and curled around each other’s with unbridled desire. It was passionate, reckless, and just plain stupid. But I never wanted him to stop. Not ever.
From the moment he’d kick-ball-changed into my life, I’d known there was something different about Oliver. My draw to him was undeniable, an electric charge that whirred through my body each time we touched. He made me want things I’d never before wanted. Physical things, like kisses and caresses and intimacy that used to make my skin crawl. Before him, Colin was the only person that I was okay with touching me, and even then, the affection I received from my husband never triggered a response in my body the way it did with Oliver. It petrified me, but at the same time, filled me with something I hadn’t had in a long time . . . hope. Hope that I wasn’t broken. Hope that there was more.
Drawing my lower lip between his teeth, he sucked and nipped at it like he couldn’t get enough of me, and I was unable to resist the urge to rock my body against his. I whimpered into his mouth, and when I felt his hardening length press into me, the last ounce of sanity I was clinging onto dissipated. I needed this man more than I needed my next breath. He . . . me . . . we—it was inevitable.
“Monroe,” he whispered as our mouths broke apart ever so slightly, “I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not like this . . . not with Colin.”
Reality slapped me square in the face at the sound of my husband’s name, leaving a sting full of shame. Gasping, I shoved Oliver away and covered my guilty mouth as tears pooled in my eyes. What in the hell am I doing? I just jeopardized everything I’ve worked so hard for over the last decade . . . all for a kiss with someone I barely know!
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” I chanted over and over into my palm, failing miserably to keep my composure as the waterworks began. “What have I done? I didn’t mean . . . I can’t . . . what’s happening to me?”
“I’m so sorry. I never should’ve done that. Never should’ve put you in that position. Please don’t cry. I swear it won’t happen again. I’m not that kind of guy. It’s just . . . when I’m with you, I do things that I wouldn’t normally do.” He moved back toward me, reaching out with his comforting arms to pull me into an embrace, but I sidestepped him and shook my head adamantly, afraid of what would happen if he touched me again.
“I know, Oliver. I get it, but you’re right—we can’t.” I sniffled as I peered into his troubled eyes through my blurred vision, understanding exactly how he felt. “It’s not all your fault. I wanted it to happen just as much as you did, if not more. I know we need to talk.” Cutting my gaze over to the building and street, I shook my head. “But not here . . . or now.”
Nervously running his fingers through his hair, he took several steps backward. “Yeah, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking. I keep fucking this all up. God, I’m so sorry.”
I awkwardly diverted my gaze to the ground and kicked my pointed toe at a random pebble as I dried the tears from my cheeks. “Yeah, me too.”
“Why don’t we continue this conversation later, somewhere more private, after we’ve both had a chance to think about things?” he offered hesitantly. “I could use some food, and we had plans to go over to the children’s home. I’m really looking forward to meeting the kiddos.”
Nodding, I relaxed a little bit, his pacifying words exactly what I needed to hear. “That sounds good. I think I need a big, greasy cheeseburger to help calm me down.”
He smiled cautiously, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Lead the way.”
Temporarily putting the kiss behind us, we ventured out on foot to find a place where we could grab a bite to eat, careful to keep a substantial distance between us, and the conversation professional. Throughout the meal, Oliver went over the different employment positions we would need to fill to staff the house, including counselors, tutors, and an office manager, while I made lists. Hesitant to give up much control, I q
uestioned the need for an actual office manager or assistant, thinking I could use a third-party company to handle most of the payroll and general administrative items. But, he insisted I would need someone who I could trust to handle a wide-range of tasks for when I’d struggle to find time to get everything taken care of. My mind immediately went to Effie as a prospect, but thought it was best to wait until I wasn’t an emotional basket case to make any kind of decisions. Plus, I wanted to get Colin’s opinion on it first before mentioning her.
I’m going to have a lot to talk to him about. Should make for an interesting night.
The tension between us dissolved a little bit with each passing minute, but a couple of times when I caught a glimpse of his mouth, or noticed him focused on mine, the swell of emotions from the kiss would flood through me, and I’d stare at my plate until the internal battle would subside. I was a fucking wreck.
After we finished eating and made our way toward the Suffolk County home, I eagerly filled him in with a bit of background on a few of the kids that would be transferred to the MH home, but hesitated before continuing on about the oldest of them, thirteen-year-old JoJo.
“So, that’s Aaron, Alex, and Heather.” He cocked his head and threw me an inquisitive look. “Didn’t you say there were four definite transfers?”
“Yeah, JoJo is a tough case. She went from a bad home to a worse foster home,” I explained, careful not to offer specifics, “and she’s got a lot of anger and resentment toward the world built up inside her. I’ve managed to knock down a few bricks in the wall she’s constructed around herself, but it takes a lot of persistence and a lot of weeding through her bitterness to get to the core. All of the kids in the county’s house are homeschooled, but as you know with Mending Hearts, one of our main goals is getting them adapted to as normal of a life as possible, which means enrolling them in public school. She’s at such an influential age right now that I’m really worried about her getting mixed up with the wrong people, or getting in so much trouble that she gets suspended or expelled. Any more rejection for her right now would be devastating.”
Thankfully, we reached the building just before he could ask any more questions, and the minute we stepped inside, we were swallowed up by a group of rowdy kids excited to stop their schoolwork for a few minutes to greet us. It took a combination of me, Oliver, and their homeschool teacher, Ms. Lovell, to get the twenty of them settled back into their chairs, but once they were all seated and somewhat quiet, I was able to introduce Oliver to them.
“Guys and gals, this is Dr. Saxon, who is visiting us from Chicago. He’s gonna be helping me set up the Mending Hearts house over the next few months, so I’m sure you’ll be seeing quite a bit of him while he’s in town,” I announced with a bright smile, my personal worries no longer seeming important when I stared into the faces of those children who had much more serious issues to face.
As soon as I stopped speaking, the entire room broke out into chatter, several of the younger boys unable to stay in their seats. Everyone wanted to be the first to introduce themselves and talk to Oliver, but he knew exactly how to handle them all. Lifting his arms in the air, he held a one dollar bill and a five-dollar bill up in his hands and motioned for them all to pipe down as he wore the most adorable grin I’d ever seen on him, and wondrously, the entire room fell silent as everyone’s eyes were glued to him.
“Anyone need an extra six bucks?” he asked, and the room erupted in cheers. “Okay, okay, settle down and I’ll tell you how you can win it.” Again, everyone instantly stopped talking. “I’m gonna do a magic trick with these two bills, and the first person who can tell me how I did it will get them. Sound good?”
A chorus of yeses followed, most of the little ones perched on the edge of their chairs, almost unable to contain their excitement. I gradually backed away from where Oliver was holding court, and joined Ms. Lovell by the wall.
“I’m sorry for disrupting class,” I whispered my apology. “I wasn’t thinking about what time it was.”
“No worries, Monroe.” She patted my shoulder soothingly. “You know you’re welcome to stop in any time. The kids look forward to your visits, and it appears they’re quite taken with your friend too. I enjoy seeing the smiles on their faces.”
We both turned our attention to the front of the room, where Oliver called all of the kids up to circle around him, making sure everyone could see. He presented the bills up-close to them, front and back, until everyone was convinced they weren’t tampered with. Next, he laid the bills on a table and began rolling them up, only to unroll them and discover they had changed places. Another wave of murmurs ensued as they all started talking amongst themselves, trying to figure out how he’d done it.
Abruptly, JoJo stood up in a chair and said, “Because of the way you laid out the money at the beginning, the one-dollar bill rolled up earlier than the five, which made it roll over first.” She jumped down with a smug grin and marched over to the table, snatching the money up and shoving it in her pocket. “Thanks for the pack of cigarettes, jackass. I’m done with this bullshit today.” Then she marched out of the room, and a few seconds later, we heard a door slam upstairs.
Oliver immediately swung his attention over to me and lifted his eyebrows, silently asking me if that was JoJo. With a sigh, I nodded and took off after her as he fished out another dollar bill from his wallet for another trick. Over an hour later, all I’d gotten out of her was that Oliver was ‘fucking stupid, just like every other guy on the planet.’ She refused to comment on the smoking reference, and when she finally got fed up with me talking, she used a few choice words, demanding I leave her alone, which I did . . . begrudgingly.
By the time I made it back downstairs, Oliver was sitting in between Alex and Aaron, helping them with a dinosaur jigsaw puzzle. They were my youngest—brothers, six and eight—who were taken from their aunt and uncle a little over a year ago for flagrant neglect. Once they were brought in for further examination, the bruises and burn marks were discovered, all purposely placed where no one could see them when they were dressed. Somehow, neither had lost their spirit, and even though they were both quite rambunctious little rascals, they were the sweetest little boys. Alex was held back after his first year of kindergarten due to his severe dyslexia but that summer, we’d made great progress with him, and he was doing much better this time around. Aaron was secretly a little cuddlebug when no one was looking, but he’d deny it if I said anything.
Almost as if he felt my presence, he looked up as soon as I entered the room and shot me a huge smile. I couldn’t help but return one of my own as I saw the two boys stare up at him with adoring gazes, hanging onto his every word. Even though it wasn’t the best of days with JoJo, it pleased me immensely to see the little ones so happy.
Once the T-Rex was fully put together, Oliver managed to escape their clingy hands, and we said goodbye to the rest of the group, promising we’d be back soon. Neither of us said a word during the walk back to my car, both completely lost in our own thoughts. Mine were swirling around so quickly that I began to feel dizzy and confused. The kiss . . . what it meant for me . . . how Colin was going to react . . . hiring Effie . . . JoJo and her outburst . . . the kiss.
The short ride to his apartment was more of the same, with only the radio to fill the suffocating silence. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but I knew I had to talk to Colin before anything. When I pulled up in front of his building, every muscle in my body drew taught as the friction between us intensified.
“So, um, what’s the schedule for tomorrow?” he asked nervously as he finally looked over at me.
I was struggling to get through the afternoon; my brain couldn’t even process the next day. “I’m not sure. I guess we need to get a game plan together on visiting the social work school at Boston University and advertising for the job openings.”
“We’re going to need to set up a temporary office for the next six weeks or so until we get in the house,” he re
minded me from our earlier discussion over lunch. “I’m assuming you and Colin don’t want to use your house for that, so we can set up on the kitchen table in my place. It’s not like I’m cooking a lot of meals or using the dining room to entertain guests, and it’s a pretty good size where we can both set up workstations.”
The thought of being alone with him in his apartment set off all kinds of alarms in my head—and between my legs—but without a better alternative, I pushed away the guilty thoughts and nodded. “Okay, that sounds good. I’ll be here around nine in the morning.”
He opened the car door and climbed out, catching my gaze one last time before sending me on my way. “I know I already said it, but I’m really sorry, Monroe. I didn’t come here to cause you any issues. That’s not my style.”
Nodding, I gripped the steering wheel tighter and shifted my attention forward out the windshield. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I just need some time to process everything.”
“Yeah, me too . . .” He stalled for an extra second or two like he was going to say something else, but he didn’t.
The door slammed shut and I took off, my tires squealing as I peeled out. The truth hammered in my chest.
The only thing I wanted him to be sorry about was kissing me just once.
“I drank her
silence like
liquor and it destroyed
me the same,
but I fell for all of her,
hopelessly and endlessly.
My soul will always be lifted
when she walks into the room
and my blood will always dance
when her breath passes through me.”
–Christopher Poindexter
Oliver
THE MOMENT SHE sped away from my apartment, the eighteen-hour countdown began until she’d show up the next morning. I had eighteen hours to pull my head out of my ass, once and for all, and figure out how to get through the next six months of working alongside her until I could return home to Chicago. No matter what the connection was that she and I shared, it didn’t matter. She was a married woman, and I had no interest in being ‘the other man.’