Chapter 11

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The next morning Ophelia walked across the bike path that ran Mansion Row's length where they were staying and sat on a bench at the water's edge. It was early, and the sun was peeking over the horizon. The air was crisp with a touch of winter in it. December in Georgia was not necessarily the winter season yet, but the air hinted that it was just around the corner.

It had been a rough night. Marc had been nice and very easy to settle, and Pops went straight to bed after their arrival. Still, by the time she landed in her bed, it was after one o'clock, and Sullivan's kiss had been playing like a loop in her head, and when she wasn't remembering the kiss, she was worried about the consequences of the kiss.

Ophelia curled her legs under her on the bench and sipped her coffee as she tried to clear her mind. She still had to get ready for the day, blue jeans, an old sweater, and her hair around her shoulders was not going to cut it in the world of Hollywood elite, but she still had plenty of time.

She jumped slightly when she felt a cold, wet nose bop her hand where it rested on the armrest of the bench. Polly was smiling at her and sniffing the fresh air, still unfamiliar with the river scents. Then she felt Sullivan settle on the bench next to her.

He had his own coffee, and he was wearing blue jeans and an old, frayed sweater, which he filled out nicely. He hadn't shaved yet or combed his hair. He was delightful mussed.

"You were up all night, weren't you?" he asked as he watched Polly sniff around the riverbank.

"Do I look that bad?" she grumpily asked.

"No, you look delightful, but if you had slept, you would still be asleep," he looked at the shadows under her eyes.

"Does that mean you didn't sleep either?" Ophelia assessed him for weariness and could find none.

"No, I didn't," he confirmed. "We need to talk about our kiss." He sipped his coffee again.

"I agree, but let's discuss it with honesty, please." Her voice was soft.

"I have always been honest with you, Ophelia." He turned slightly on the bench to face her, and Ophelia watched his hands as they cradled his mug. It was the same mug she had, but it looked so much smaller in his hands.

"Why did you kiss me!" she blurted out, lifting her eyes to his face. He wasn't shocked by the question.

Sullivan took a deep breath. "Because I wanted to. At that moment, when you were helping my overly eccentric father while still managing to find the humor in the situation, I was so extremely thankful that we have you in our lives. That we can trust you and depend on you."

Ophelia let that sink in. She got it. His heart had filled with joy, and sharing that joy through a kiss was natural enough, but there had been something else there too.

"Are you attracted to me at all, Sullivan?" she asked.

"God, yes!" his voice was emphatic as if he was happy to say it finally. He closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them to meet her shocked gaze head-on. "The way you look with your hair down," he reached out and caressed a strand, "the way you take even the most outlandish conversations and goings-on of my family and keep right on going, your smile, and the way you say my name. You don't say it very often, but I love the sound of it when you do."

Ophelia felt herself blush at his words. "H-how long have you been attracted to me?" she asked.

"Since the moment my mother introduced you as her new assistant. You are a beautiful woman Ophelia." He dropped her hair and turned to face the water while taking a sip of coffee.

"I'm attracted to you too. I have been from the beginning," she admitted. It was easier to do with him looking the other way. "Your family knows. You realize that right?" she asked.

"Yes." He smiled. "They're not very subtle, but then you know that."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, absorbing their admissions to each other while watching Polly chase a bird. 

"What do we do now?" Ophelia asked, needing him to take the lead.

"Not what we want to do, that's for sure," Sullivan looked over his shoulder at her with a grin that made her heart flip flop in her chest. What would a night in Sullivan Richards' arms be like?

Her thoughts must have been reflected in her eyes because his smile faded as the atmosphere between them changed. He cleared his throat and looked away as he sipped his coffee.

"We go on as usual. We need you too much. I can't be selfish and put my needs before the family. Despite what is said about me, I don't have sex with women unless I am pursuing a relationship, and that we cannot do." Sullivan shook his head.

"Why not? From what your father said last night, I had the feeling that everyone would support a relationship between us." Ophelia sipped her coffee, nervous about what he would say. She was all but admitting that she wanted a relationship with him, that she had feelings for him.

He frowned. "What did Pops say last night?" he asked.

"He wasn't drunk-"

"I know, he's a mean drunk," Sullivan revealed.

Then that meant that they all knew Pops was faking, and this caused her to frown. Had they made a fool of her? And in front of her mother?"

"He was bored, and he needed a boost of confidence, so we all played along. We are actors, after all. Had we known about your mother, we wouldn't have done it at all." Sullivan insisted with urgency. "The one who was ultimately tricked was Pops, who thought he had us all fooled."

He watched her absorb the news, watched the feelings play across her face. "What did Pops say last night?" he asked again.

"That it had taken us long enough," Ophelia said vaguely as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"If they would support the relationship, then why wouldn't you be willing?" she asked once she had decided Pops wasn't worth getting upset over because it was just another day in the Richards family. They truly hadn't known about her mother.

"Because it would end, and when it ended, we would lose you." Sullivan's voice was serious.

Did it have to end? Ophelia couldn't bring herself to ask the question aloud. If he didn't love her, then it would end when he got bored or found someone else he was attracted to. Attraction did not equal love.

"You don't want to be attracted to me, do you?" she asked, clearing her throat to keep the hurt out of her tone.

"No, I don't. It would make things much easier if I thought of you as a sister like Sawyer does. I'm not attracted to many women, but when I am, I'm used to acting on it."

Ophelia immediately hated every woman to whom he was ever attracted.

I'm not used to holding it inside. This is a new experience for me, and I failed last night when I kissed you, and I almost failed that day we were talking about Christmas," he admitted.

"Is that why you got so upset?" Ophelia asked, awed. "I thought you had some deep-rooted hate for Christmas, and it made me sad."

Sullivan's responding laugh was low and sexy. Lord help her. It wasn't going to be easy if his laugh made her heartbeat erratically.

"No, I like Christmas as much as the next person. I was mad at myself because I had just spent breakfast trying to convince Sawyer I wasn't attracted to you, and then you had to ask if you could make a home for my family, which made me want to kiss you. That, in turn, made me realize that I was living in denial, and it wasn't an easy thing to accept, which made me mad. I was angry for the rest of the day for having upset you." His eyes asked for her forgiveness.

"I don't promise it won't happen again." Sullivan's eyes skimmed her face as if he was thinking about kissing her again.

Ophelia licked her lips unconsciously and then watched Sullivan's lips thin in response.

"So, we're going to go right on pretending that there is no attraction between us?" Ophelia asked for clarification.

"Correct. We will forget about this past week and go back to how it was before we came to Oak Island, and I found you asleep in my bed," he confirmed, his voice sounded grumpy.

Ophelia didn't understand if he was grumpy because she was unhappy about not being able to act on the attraction or the fact that he was attracted to her, but then it was probably the same thing in the end.

"I always thought you disliked me. I was surprised when you asked me to keep Polly the first time." Ophelia sipped her now cold coffee and grimaced.

"Here, mine's still warm," he said, offering her his cup and taking hers. Their fingers brushed at the handoff, and they both pretended that it didn't happen.

"I have always liked and trusted you. Polly adores you, and it pleases me when she is with you."

Sullivan's words made her want to cry. It was like he was telling her he couldn't give her himself or his heart, but he could give her Polly, who had a huge part of his heart, but then maybe she was reading more into his words than was there.

"I love Polly." The words were definitely Ophelia's way of telling Sullivan that she loved him and gave Polly her heart to share with him.

He nodded, and they both watched Polly, who felt their eyes on her and ran up to them, allowing them to love on her, which they did.

"What are you two doing out here so early?" Giselle asked from across the road as she rushed to join them.

"Enjoying the sunrise," Sullivan said, ending the conversation.

"Would you like me to walk, Polly?" Ophelia asked, standing.

"Oh, I would love to do that for you, may I?" Giselle asked Sullivan as she smiled down at Polly, who tilted her head at Giselle's sudden attention.

"If you would like to, sure?" Sullivan said, attaching a leash to Polly's collar and handing it to Giselle.

They watched as she smiled at them and then started out at a sedate pace down the bike trail.

"I think she's trying to get to you through your dog," Ophelia whispered.

"Probably," Sullivan agreed, unconcerned as he started towards the house.

"That doesn't worry you?" Ophelia asked, following him.

"No, Polly doesn't like her and will take care of it herself." He looked amused.

Looking at the clock, Ophelia placed her mug in the sink and darted upstairs to get dressed for the day. She had a lot to think about, but she felt the best course of action was to ignore it for the time being. There was a lot to do, she was tired, and she still had to explain last night.

That was what she needed to focus on. The Richards trusted her, and now it was time to trust them.

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