Temptation: Part Two - Forbidden Flash Romance

RAGE

The small burger shack Olivia picked out smells delicious. If I didn’t recognize the place, I might be able to get past the wrenching feeling in my gut. Finn wouldn’t remember the last time we sat here, the way that Maria wiped the sauce off his face every five minutes. But I do. 

Her ghost is everywhere. Every time I turn around on this godforsaken island I expect to see her standing there, only to be disappointed all over again when she isn’t.

“You don’t like it?” Will points at my burger, which is falling apart in my grip.

“No, it’s great.” I shake my head, forcing a smile before I take a bite. “See?” Incidentally, it is delicious. I’ll have to keep up my morning runs if I don’t want to go home a fat slob, but that’s a given. Working out is the only safe way to take out my rage.

“Look, Livvy, I’m a walrus.” Finn shoves two french fries under his lips like tusks. Her tinkling laugh fills the tiny space as she follows suit, grinning at him with her matching tusks.

Fuck me, she’s hot. Her hair hangs in wild waves just past her shoulders after the beach, and I can still see her cleavage through her shirt. I should have known it was a bad idea to bring her here, but I could hardly handle the boys by myself while I’m busy warding off phantom memories.

And maybe it’s just an excuse to make me feel better about lusting after her, but the fact that she loves my kids so much is sexy as all hell.

“Come on, daddy. Be a walrus.” She looks to me, brown eyes bright and full of the kind of innocence only youth can give. After shaking my head a few times and teasing them with my feet under the table, I do as she asks and shove two french fries under my lips.

Finn and Will can barely contain themselves, making obnoxious noises and playing with the rest of their food. Damn, they’re cute. For a moment I’m glad I brought them here, even if it is torture for me. They don’t deserve to suffer because I’m a pathetic son of a bitch. 

“Check this out.” Olivia puffs up her cheeks and crosses her eyes, sending the boys into another fit of laughter as they try and fail to mimic her.

The scene is so enchanting I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to walk these shores with her—hand in hand while the little demons wreak havoc. At sunset, I’d push her hair out of her face in the breeze. Let my hand linger on her cheek for a minute, just to prolong the contact. 

I am so caught up in the daydream that when the boys start bickering, reality hits me like a train. What the fuck is wrong with me, imagining a whole other life as if the past isn’t crushing me as we speak? It feels like a betrayal. If Maria were here, she would be ashamed. 

“Give it back,” Will whines, reaching for the cup in Finn’s hand. Finn holds it out of reach, taunting him.

“Come and get it,” he answers, dancing out of the way when Will scoots out of the booth to swipe at it. 

Olivia puts her hand flat on the table, her face full of reproach. “Finn, please—”

“Dammit, Finn, give him the cup.” I slam my fist on the table, instantly choked with guilt when their faces go white. For a moment the three of them stare at me, as caught off guard by my radical mood swing as I am. 

Fucking hell. I close my eyes and swallow my rage, reaching out to Finn, who backs away. “I’m sorry, boys. That wasn’t your fault.” Holding my arms out, I wait with bated breath for them to snap out of it.

Olivia remains silent, her lips pressed tightly together. It’s not the first time I’ve lost my temper with them. The shame is nearly unbearable. Eventually, Finn sets the cup down and steps up to hug me, bony arms wrapping tight around my sides.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, kissing the top of his head as Will Joins us. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” I shouldn’t freak the fuck out every time I think something stupid, either, but sometimes it seems like a lost cause. Maybe I’m doomed to spend the rest of my life trying to reign in my temper so my kids don’t fear the sight of me.

“You only get one brother,” Olivia offers, accepting Will under her arm when he climbs back into the booth to sit beside her. “You guys need to take care of each other, okay?”

Both of them nod, an immeasurable period of silence passing before the fit is forgotten and they go back to screwing around. Thank god. She always knows what to say. But I need to keep my mind on the kids where it belongs, not on chasing some tail in the last place I held my wife.

“They’ll be alright.” She nudges my elbow on the way back to the bungalow. “Kids are resilient.”

“I know,” I snap, unnecessarily cruel after everything she’s done for us. It’s not her fault I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to kiss her. To slip my hand under those bikini bottoms and…

Stop. I have to grip the steering wheel so hard to get my mind right that my fingers turn white. She shrinks in her seat, staring out the window without another word. 

Great. Now I’m a betrayer and a jackass.

“Okay, boys, I want teeth brushed and pajamas on first thing when we get inside.” She turns back to them tipping her head down to show them she means business.

When I pull up to the bungalow, they are out of the car and chasing each other inside before I can take the keys out. Inside, they run to the back room, Olivia close on their heels to keep them from getting too distracted.

Running a hand through my hair, I walk to the fridge for a beer and then head out to the deck. The wood creaks beneath my feet, the grass blowing in a slight breeze.

Maybe it’s for the best if she leaves. I can’t be thinking about her that way, not when she’s so young and Maria was so damn perfect. It’s too greedy to expect more than that.

Leaning back against the outside wall, I take a swig, holding the bottle by the neck while I stare unseeing at the darkened beach and the ocean beyond, barely visible at this hour.

The last time I sat on this deck, I had my head in my hands. The boys were asleep, and Maria was in the chair, wrapped in a wool blanket despite the heat that left my forehead clammy.

I don’t want you to be alone, she’d said. It was the same bullshit she’d been preaching for months. And every time I told her the answer was simple: don’t leave me.

But she insisted, reaching for my hand. I want you to find someone else.

My body goes numb at the memory, my eyes closing at the pain it brings. How I fought her at the time, accusing her of not trying hard enough. Begging her to stay, even when I knew she couldn’t. I’ve never been so angry. 

Eventually, I gave in, of course. She always got what she wanted, even in the moments I hated her for it.

Don’t become some sad hermit. You’re a real bastard when you’re lonely. Promise me.

I did promise, but only to appease her. I never intended to follow through. And now here I am, getting a hard-on every time Olivia gets too close.

But shit, I had no idea how lonely it would be. I was so terrified to lose her, I couldn’t even imagine what life would be like without her. That first year was pure hell—for me and the kids.

I fired four women before I settled on Olivia. Each of them worse than the last, either too strict or too boring or too soft to handle the boys. But then she came, all light and airy and confident.

I didn’t think anyone could tame them. Before she came they were wild, always drawing on the walls and breaking shit too fast for me to clean it up. But piece by piece she put us back together, healing wounds I didn’t even know existed.

The boys were enamored with her after two days. For me it took longer, speaking mainly in grunts and gestures for the first year of her employment. But somewhere along the line, she snuck past my defenses.

“I know it’s hard for you being here.” Her voice startles me, her footsteps soft as she walks out barefoot on the deck, hopping up to sit on the railing. “If there’s anything I can do…if you want to talk about it you can.”

I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t want to think about it, either. Right now I want to scrub out all my memories with bleach, just so I don’t have to feel them anymore.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” I can at least give her that. Finishing off my beer, I set the bottle on the table and fold my arms.

“No hard feelings. I know it was a big decision, bringing them out here.” Always so fucking understanding. Even when I don’t deserve it.

I want you to find someone else. 

I shake the thought away, trying like hell to clear my head. Olivia is not someone else. She’s my nanny. My kids need her.

“Look,” she starts, “it’s none of my business, I know. But after everything you’ve been through...you’re a really good father. I just think you should know that. And I think you should cut yourself some slack.”

Her words cut right through me, straight to the core. My chest feels tight, my legs rigid. I don’t know what to say to her. But sitting there on the railing, her legs swinging over the side, I can think of about a dozen things I’d like to do.

She doesn’t press me to respond, for which I am grateful. But it does nothing to quell the tightness in my pants. The night wears on, bringing the sound of cicadas and rustling leaves.

“You’re a miracle worker,” I say at last, taking a foolish step toward her. She cocks her head, one side of her mouth lifting as she takes me in, her eyes pausing on my exposed thighs; these shorts barely reach past my underwear, and yet I’ve still spent the last two days burning to death.

“It’s not so hard.” All of a sudden she is bashful. “They’re good kids. And you guys are…” Her gaze lifts to the stars, searching for her answer there, or maybe just her courage. “There’s nothing better than watching you play with them.”

Maybe it’s the beer, or the compliments. Or the fact that I’ve been staring at her half-naked for two days straight, but I can’t help myself. Closing the distance between us, I plant my hands on the railing, so close to her hips I can feel the heat rolling off of them. 

She stiffens, her back going so straight her breasts strain against her shirt. But she doesn’t back away. Instead, her eyes fall to my lips, a heady undertone stealing her expression.

I’m so tired of all this suffering. I want a moment, even if it kills me tomorrow. I want anything other than wishes for a life I can’t get back. Taking her face in both my hands, I pull her in and taste her lips, my skin singing at her touch. 

She leans into the kiss, one hand moving to my waist. Dammit, she feels good, her lips soft and giving and insistent. My pants grow more uncomfortable as my erection grows, pressing me to deepen the kiss.

Fuck, I’m in trouble. She is sweeter than I ever imagined. And now that I’ve had a taste, I don’t know how I’m supposed to pull away.