So Much More (Made for Love #3) Read Free Page A

Little Bird is now your baby, but I can tell your battery is running pretty low. School will start in a couple weeks and you’ll be slammed.”
    “Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “I’m sure someone will turn up.”
    As if right on cue, the bell above the door sounds as someone enters. I look up casually and immediately my blood turns ice cold at the sight of her.
    She’s dressed for the hot day reported in today’s forecast, but she still looks boardroom ready, in spite of the fact that it’s barely eight o’clock on a Saturday morning. She’s in a pair of tan heels that can be no shorter than four inches, accentuating her toned legs and boosting her closer to five-seven, as opposed to the five-foot-three inches she’s complained about for as long as I’ve known her. The sleeveless purple dress she has on clings to every delicate curve she owns, reminding me of the shape of her breasts, her waist, her hips, her ass. I curse my mind for conjuring up memories of her body beneath mine, her back arched, begging me to taste the hardened buds that seem to be anxiously waiting as her mouth opens in the perfect O, her orgasm on the brink of unraveling us both.
    I press my lips into a thin line, agitated with my dick for even thinking about getting hard right now. What the hell is the matter with me?
    She catches me staring before I can bring myself to look away and I abhor the smirk that tugs at the corner of her sexy mouth. I don’t mistake the mischievous glint in her brown eyes for a spark of friendly affection. I’m smarter than that. Nevertheless, I cannot deny that she looks as gorgeous as ever—her pixie haircut leaving her face completely exposed. She looks exactly as I remember her last. A whole fucking year ago. I’m less than thrilled to see her now, making her way toward our table.
    “Hey, Stranger,” she says, stopping just beside me.
    I look at Daphne before I reply. I can tell by her arched eyebrow that she’s her own version of surprised and pissed right now. There’s also a warning in her eye. She’s challenging me not to cave—not to give in—not to be the weak-willed-pathetic-excuse-of-a-man version of myself that I become whenever Olivia Bennett reenters my world.
    “Olive,” I force myself to speak as I look up at her from where I sit. “What are you doing here?”
    “Don’t be like that, Bran. Don’t be mean.”
    “What are you doing here?” I repeat.
    She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she pulls a chair up to our table and invites herself to sit. As if she’s just now noticing that I’m not alone, she casts a quick glance in Daphne’s direction before turning to address me. “Don’t mean to interrupt—”
    “Sure you do,” Daphne says before bringing her latte to her lips.
    Olivia turns to do a double take and gasps softly. “ Daphne? ” I roll my eyes, knowing good and well she knows who Daphne is.
    “What gave me away?” she jeers.
    “I didn’t—is that your baby?” she asks, pointing at the stroller.
    “Well, she’s certainly not a puppy.”
    “I didn’t know—”
    “And why would you? Why would you know anything about anyone in this town?” I cut in. “You haven’t been seen or heard from in over a year.”
    “Bran, I’m sorry.”
    “I’ve heard that before,” I say with a nod. “Doesn’t mean much.”
    “Look—I can’t stay for long. It’s William’s birthday. That’s why I’m here. I’ll be in town until Monday. I was really hoping we could catch up.” She opens her purse and pulls out a keycard, sliding it toward me across the table. “I’m staying at The Archibald. Room five-eleven. I have to go for now, but I really want to see you. I miss you and I can tell we have a lot to talk about. I hope I’ll see you.”
    I push the key away from me and ignore the hurt look in her eyes. It’s an act. It’s an act. It’s an act , I tell myself.
    She stands but doesn’t reach for the key. “You’re my best friend. You won’t say no. You