Ready or Not (Ready #4)(52)

She might still have reservations or need time to come to the same inevitable conclusion I’d already reached, but there was one thing I knew for certain.

Olivia Prescott was mine—forever.

Convincing my free-spirited hippie girl that she was taken for good might be challenging.

I grinned as my fingers wove through her raven hair, thinking of how much fun I was going to have convincing her.

“Good morning,” a sleepy voice said, her eyes peeking up at me.

“Hi.”

“Have you been awake long?”

“Yeah, just watching you sleep.”

“Normally, I would find that creepy, but on you…it’s kind of hot.”

“Everything is hot on me,” I replied with a wink.

“I know,” she purred, rising up onto her knees. The sheet and blanket fell away from her waist, exposing her beautiful tanned skin.

“You’re so damn gorgeous.”

“So are you,” she answered, crawling into my lap to straddle me.

My hands skimmed up her back and down to grip her ass.

She lifted her body, and I positioned myself at her slick entrance just as a cell phone went off.

“Ignore it,” I commanded.

“I can’t. It could be Leah calling about Noah,” she said.

“They have my number.”

“And where is your cell phone?”

I looked around the room to the pile of clothes, and I honestly couldn’t remember whether my phone was in there or not.

“Exactly. It will only be a second. Let me just check who it is.”

She reached over my shoulder and grabbed her phone, giving me a momentary nice view of her breasts before they were pushed against my face. I stuck out my tongue and licked the tip of her nipple, causing her to yelp.

The yelp quickly turned into a gasp.

“Liv?” I said, looking up to find her turning white with panic. “Liv, what is it? Who is it?”

She held out the phone. “It’s my dad.”

~Liv~

The phone went silent as I stared down at it, wondering if it had all been a mistake. My sexy time with Jackson now interrupted, I climbed off of him, and instead, I cuddled up next to him. He pulled the covers around us, and his arms enveloped me, making me feel safe and secure even though my heart was racing and my mind was panicked.

“Do you think he meant to call me?”

“You think it was an accident?” he asked.

“Well, it’s been eight years.”

My phone chirped, and I nearly jumped off the bed. Jackson’s warm touch calmed me as I held the phone in front of me once more.

I had one new voice mail.

My heart went into double-time.

“Are you going to listen to it?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly, staring blankly at the screen.

I felt his eyes on me, watching and waiting. Pulling my head closer, he kissed my forehead and smoothed down my hair. He cupped my chin, and his gaze met mine.

“I’m going to go take a shower and give you some time to think. I’ll be here if you need me.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Without asking, he always seemed to know the difference between when I needed him and the times I just needed a bit of space.

Right now was one of those moments when I needed space.

I stared back at the phone while the sound of his footsteps against the wood floor filled the quiet room. The shower kicked on, and I heard the old pipes groan to life.

One new voice mail.

I looked at the words on the screen again, still unable to believe that with a quick press of a button, I would be able to hear my dad’s voice again. I’d heard it over the years on the news and radio as he’d conducted campaign speeches and live interviews, but it never sounded the same. He always sounded so formal and professional. This time, when I heard him, he’d be talking to me.

What would he say? Was he sorry? Did he regret the choices he’d made? Or maybe my parents just needed something? After all this time, perhaps they just needed an organ donor or wanted to write me out of the will.

I huffed out a large breath of air, trying to find the courage to listen to that fateful message. I knew one thing. Once I did, things would somehow never be the same.

Perhaps my life was better not knowing. What if it were bad news? Surely, not knowing was better than the truth.

Finally making a decision, I hit the button and held the phone up to my ear. Tears stung my eyes when his familiar deep voice came across the airwaves.

“Hey, Livvy,” he greeted, taking a deep breath before continuing. He sounded older and tired maybe, but it was him. Not the politician or the great man of Virginia, it was my dad.

I blinked away more tears as I listened to what he had to say.

“I know it’s been a long time, and I know we have a lot to make up for, but your mother and I would like to extend that olive branch we’ve been too stubborn to give until now. I know what has happened between us can’t be fixed in a day or even months, but give us one dinner. Just one to start, and we’ll go from there. You know how to reach us. I love you, Livvy Lou.”

I listened to the message two more times, feeling my heart tighten in my chest when he referred to me by my childhood nickname. Much like Jackson’s grandma calling him Jax, my father was the only one who had ever referred to me as Livvy Lou. I hadn’t heard anyone call me by that name since I was in college before I’d left home for the last time.