Sinful Ever After - Vivian Wood Page 0,20

that way. I’m just going through a self-imposed dry spell. I need to remember that.

“I’m ready,” she says, her eyes shining. She puts her hands on her hips and looks up, then scrunches up her face. “Actually… I guess I should catalog what’s in here before I do anything else. Do you think I can borrow a ladder?”

I’m more relieved than I should be. I have a ton of shit on my to do list and I have a lot of thoughts to wade through. There is also the distinct possibility that I don’t want to deal with my libido right now. In any event, I’m not needed here.

“Definitely. There are some really tall ladders in the maintenance shed. I’ll go grab you one and bring it back.”

Olivia smiles. “Thanks, Aiden. And…” She blushes. “Thanks for sticking up for me earlier, with Carter. It wasn’t necessary but it was very sweet of you to think of me.”

More like I couldn’t stand the thought of my maybe-brother talking to you for more than a second. But I don’t say that. Instead I just nod, turning on my heel and head out of the room.

I need to do something. Something that will distract me from Olivia. Anything that will keep me from doing what I want to, which is to bury my hands in her hair, take her mouth, and fuck her up against the wall of that overfull library.

Loathe though I am to admit it, this isn’t the first time I’ve been attracted to Olivia. Not by a long shot. It started when she was around seventeen and has only gotten stronger with every year so far.

Blowing out a breath, I tuck my head down and dash across the yard, trying to pretend that I can run away from my problems.

Chapter Eight

Olivia

I stand in a little space I’ve cleared by one of the library windows, staring outside at Aiden. He doesn’t even notice me there, not that he would particularly care either way if he knew I was watching. I’ve always been essentially invisible to him.

Pressing my forehead against the glass, I sigh wistfully.

He’s just so… dreamy. Darkly handsome, effortlessly cool. There is something so attractive about him, and it’s not just his looks. He’s just a bright, shiny ball of hot man, rolling through this entire world. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.

There are always women around him, buzzing like flies. While there isn’t anyone at this moment, I am sure that his next conquest is right around the corner.

Honestly, I would practically kill to be the next in line. But I’m relegated to being his best friend’s little sister forever. That’s just the way it is, I guess.

Besides, he’s too busy to even look in my direction.

In the four days that I’ve been here now, Aiden has had his hands full with projects. Hammering down the loose floorboards on the front porch. Clearing the yard of debris. Now he’s working on scraping the whole outside of the house clean, taking off years of grimy paint.

Tasks that have required him to be outside, away from my dusty little corner of the house. For my part, I have kept an eye out. Hell, I’ve even worked my way through the piles, edging everything back just enough so I can now see out of one window.

Pathetic, I know. But my hard work was rewarded when Aiden stopped outside this morning and stripped off his shirt. I looked at that magnificent chest he revealed, those well-muscled arms and that very defined back…

I have to fan myself with papers every time I so much as glance outside. Since then, I’ve been trying to work around my own drool. I tell myself that it makes more sense for me to approach tackling this room starting by the window and working toward the door.

Rolling my eyes at myself, I set myself some rules. I can only look out the window every half an hour, and then only for a minute. Otherwise this room will always be a wreck.

So I make myself work. I have to remember that I’m actually here doing the job that I love… or I will be, once I sort through all these papers and books. I wear a dust mask, which protects me from the worst of the dust and debris as I work.

There are newspapers stuffed in with the papers, I think to commemorate the date. Either that or the original collector was a crazy hoarder. I vacillate