by Zoe York
“Whoa there, chickadee. That’s putting the cart way before the horse. We haven’t seen each other in almost a month.”
“Then what has you smiling?”
“He’s been leaving me notes.”
Dani squealed and kicked her feet in the air. Sex was gross, but romance was one hundred percent shareable. Olivia grinned. “So now I need to find a way to make a move. But not, like, you know…a big move. Something PG-13.”
Her sister-in-law clapped her hands together. “Haunt the Park. Hayride in the dark, spooky goblins…it’s sweet and sexy and totally public. He’s going to be there, working, but we can probably work it out so he has a break around when you get there.”
“We?” The thought of others knowing her and Rafe were…were…what were they doing? Flirting again? Oh, jeez. “Hang on, maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
“Sure it is. Just Dean needs to know, and he’s good with secrets.”
But you aren’t, sister-of-mine. Olivia offered a weak smile and nodded. “Sure.”
After Dani left, Olivia pulled the note from its hiding place in the kitchen and lay on her bed, reading the words over and over again. Yes, she’d make a move. And if it didn’t work out, they’d have Christmas together as friends and then she’d move on in the spring. That would give her seven weeks to gird her heart in impenetrable steel and find a way to truly just be friends. Or not. The tiny voice that represented her heart squeaked the ever-so-seductive alternative. Maybe this is the start of something new and special.
But he hadn’t written any love letters when they were married. And while she wanted him to have turned a new leaf, this wasn’t really proof of that. This was just another attempt to woo her back to the same old, same old. Which maybe you gave up too quickly, too easily. Yep. Maybe she had.
With a growl, she shoved to her feet, stashed the note beside her bed and put on some running clothes. Not that she was actually going running—she’d done the Couch to 5k app on her phone a few times and decided that week three was her favourite workout. So that’s where she stayed. It also had the best playlist.
She left the house at a brisk walk, hoping the fresh air and extra oxygen pumping to her heart would help her sort out her mixed up feelings about Rafe.
Thirty minutes later she was sweaty, marginally healthier, and had absolutely no more clarity regarding her gorgeous hunk of an ex-husband.
Love notes.
Seriously.
What was a girl to do with that?
— TWELVE —
SHE was going to Haunt the Park in two days. To surprise Rafe. Right after Olivia tucked into bed with a book that night, Dani texted to confirm Dean would point Rafe in her direction, and they’d take a wagon ride together. It would be fun.
So why did she feel so damn nervous?
All the way through Friday morning breakfast rush, with everyone talking about the event, she was flustered. What would she wear?
That was a stupid question. It was the end of October in the Bruce, she’d be wrapped in warm stuff from head to toe.
Her phone chirped at ten o’clock, and then again at quarter after. By the time she sat down with a fresh cup of coffee, four messages were waiting from Greg. Good to go on the town meeting read the first one. Then, You’re working this morning, sorry. She laughed to herself. When you get a chance, call me. And then the last one was the longest. Will you call sooner if I tell you we want to offer you a full-time job until June?
Her head shot up and looked toward Frank in the kitchen. As it was, her Dancelight paycheque already matched her take-home from the diner, tips aside. He’d told her he wasn’t expecting her to stay forever, but still…her hands shook as she texted back. Swamped this morning, will call soon. And then, worried that wasn’t enthusiastic enough, she sent another. Really thrilled on all counts, have many questions.
She put her phone on silent and did the rest of the morning on autopilot.
Her first instinct was to talk it out with Rafe. No, he won’t see the drawbacks. From what she’d observed already, everyone on this project worked long hours. The same kind of workload she’d always resented Rafe having. Did she want to take that on, just as she was considering re-investing in their relationship? He didn’t choose you over his job. She rubbed the space between her eyebrows and slowed her breathing. That wasn’t fair. He couldn’t choose her. She’d known he was fulfilling a life-long goal of becoming a police officer when she met him. That he was a soldier, like his brother, and he felt that calling deep in his bones. He couldn’t separate himself from those roles, not without stripping a part of his soul. She shouldn’t have asked him to, no matter how subtly. And maybe if she was doing something she was passionate about, they’d be on more equal footing. So…take the job for him? Her head spun with all the possible implications of a job offer that hadn’t even been officially made yet.
No, she needed to make her own decision. Stand on her own two feet.
What was in Olivia’s best interest? She needed to trust herself to make the right call.
And when she thought about not taking the job, of turning Greg down and staying at the diner full-time…that tipped her sideways. A profound sense of loss and sadness gripped her from the inside, and she realized this was what it was like to love your job. She’d known in her head, but never truly understood in her heart, what compelled Rafe to work so hard all of the time. Now she got it and panic threatened at the idea of missing out.
No way was she letting this opportunity slide through her fingers.
After punching out, she waited for Frank to hand off to the afternoon cook, Lily Gill, whose name was so cute everyone used both first and last when referring to her.
When he saw her waiting on the steps outside, Frank shoved one hand through his hair. “It’s too cold to be loitering outside today, Olivia.”
“I wanted to talk to you.” Her voice wavered and she tried to smile to compensate. It didn’t work. Her lip wobbled and when he patted her on the back, she started to cry.
“This is either really good or really bad.” He nodded toward his beige SUV. “Want to sit for a minute?”
Inside his car, he handed over a box of tissues. “Are you pregnant?”
She laughed and hiccuped. “No.”
“Someone die?”
“No.”
“Then whatever it is, just tell me.”
“The movie people…I think they’re going to offer me a full-time job.” She took a deep breath. “And if they do, I’m probably going to take it. I’ll give you lots of notice and help you find someone else, of course. But…” She trailed off and started crying again. This was embarrassing. If she was pregnant she could blame it on hormones at least.
“But you’ll miss me.” He grinned, his eyes disappearing into crinkly skin. “Totally understandable. I’ll let you stay on the roster and take the occasional shift to make you feel better.”
That made her laugh, and actually was a great idea. “You’re not mad?”
“No, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.” He made a shooing motion with his hand. “Now get out of my car, I’ve got to meet a hot date for bingo at the Wiarton Legion.”
She called Greg as soon as she got home. He was agreeable to a gradual transition to full-time, starting in mid-December or as soon as she could get away from the diner. He emailed a revised job description while they were talking, and explained that over the holidays she’d be expected to do some remote office reception to cover rotating time off, but for the most part she’d do work on the ground to prepare for the arrival of just over a hundred crew members and another dozen in the cast. By the time they arrived, she’d know everyone’s assistants and be the location liaison for the duration of filming.
“And we’re just one of three production companies involved in this film, remember. You’ll be able to do a lot of networking. I don’t know if you’d be interested in traveling for work, but these types of things have a way of turning permanent.”
; “Oh.” The thought of moving to Toronto or Vancouver to work on movie projects thrilled and terrified her. Mostly the latter, given that she’d just allowed herself to start fantasizing about a new start with Rafe. Not just fantasizing—actually doing it. She couldn’t think about leaving Pine Harbour. Except this job made her heart thump in an entirely different but equally awesome way.
Hot tears pricked behind her eyelids. She didn’t want to think about leaving.
She didn’t want to leave. But she didn’t want to drift without a purpose, either.
“Olivia?” Greg’s voice filtered through the noise of her thoughts.
“I’m sorry, Greg. I got a bit overwhelmed there. Can you repeat that last bit?”
“If you aren’t interested in a permanent position with a single production company, than freelance work might be more up your alley.”
She cleared her throat. “This would be the second time today that I asked one of my bosses if he’d mind if I worked for someone else, so you’ll have to excuse me if this sounds rude, but … I’d like to know more about that.”
He laughed. “No worries. I get that you’re attached to your home town. You’re a real rock star of hard work, Olivia, you’ll land on your feet at the end of this project.”
A different kind of heat rocketed through her veins. Frank had always said she was a good waitress and she liked that work, but this was on a different level. Pride. It made her a little lightheaded to think that she might have value to other producers.
A niggle of an idea took hold, something she’d have months to work out all the details on. But the kernel of an idea was there, something she might be able to do in Pine Harbour.
Excitement took hold and for the afternoon she almost forgot to be nervous about the next day.
Almost.
— THIRTEEN —
HAUNT The Park was a family affair.
Even if his brother hadn’t been the park ranger in charge, Rafe would probably still have signed up for off-duty service for the annual pre-Halloween event. He had fond memories of making out on the hayrides in high school and never tired of hearing kids talk about how they survived the loop through the dark campground and all the scenes of gore and horror they encountered on the way.
His mother donated the hot chocolate and apple cider, and Dani was manning the table on the far side of the parking lot. When Liv had worked for his mom, she’d stood right there next to his sister. That familiar ache pulsed in his chest—regret and confusion, because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. And then the newer but still just as recognizable reaction of self-loathing. Fuck, he needed to get over himself. The notes had been his last attempt to ask for a second chance and she’d obviously passed.
Maintaining distance while he sorted his head out had been hard. Now that he was avoiding her, he caught tail-end glimpses everywhere. Her car driving away from the diner at the end of a shift. Her ponytail swishing into the bank mid-afternoon. And on Facebook, all of a sudden this morning everyone was sharing a flyer notice about a public meeting about the film shoot. And there was Olivia’s name as a local contact down in the bottom right hand corner. Olivia Minelli. He traced the letters with his eyes, over and over again. She still used his name. She was still his. Except he didn’t have a decent plan to remind her of that fact in a way that didn’t send her running for the hills.
He even thought he’d seen her here tonight, but that was wishful thinking. Liv hadn’t come to Haunt the Park since they broke up.
The detachment had been asked to provide two officers for traffic control as the fundraising night brought more visitors to the park than any other evening event of the year. As always, Dean and Rafe were the first volunteers. And as usual, both of them weren’t needed for the whole night, so they took turns riding the loop. Dean returned from his ride on the wagon just in time to nip Rafe’s melancholy in the bud.
“Your turn.” Dean nodded to a small figure bobbing along in line. She hadn’t been visible ten seconds earlier, but the queue weaved around the administrative building. His friend bumped an elbow into his side, a dull thud against the layers of his uniform. “Go join her.”
“Nah.” She’d made it clear she didn’t want to try again, and he wasn’t any closer to having a plan to win her back. Taking a break from her hadn’t brought clarity about their relationship. If anything, seeing her again tumbled him backwards by a month. He stared at her, all bundled up against the cool fall night. Why couldn’t he get over her? Their marriage hadn’t worked. It was a fool’s errand to think she’d ever give him a second chance. He’d tried the cocky bastard routine, he’d tried sweet and adorable. There was a reason nothing had worked. “She doesn’t want me.”
Dean snorted. “Man, you gotta pull your head out of your ass. Why else would she be here? Do you think she likes freezing her pretty little ass off?”
“Eyes off her ass,” Rafe groused.
“Go join her in line. Just see what happens.”
That had been his plan before—just see what happens—but he hadn’t lasted long with it. Probably wouldn’t this time, either. By Christmas, he’d be drunk and on her front lawn in a red suit.
He stared across the parking lot. She was talking to the kids ahead of her in line as they bobbed around their parents, but clearly hadn’t come with anyone. Fuck it. It wasn’t like it was a big secret that he was mooning over her. Might as well enjoy the rush of being near her again before she dashed his hopes to smithereens.
And maybe this time would be different. Wishful thinking.
He wandered in her direction, eyes on his prize the whole way, but he didn’t rush. She was bundled up in a fleece hoodie, mini mitts and a toque, but her pink cheeks and bright eyes were super cute. He wanted to kiss her—hard. Make her shriek and laugh and blush so furiously everyone would know he’d turned her on. But he wanted to loop her arm through his and just stand together, too. Be seen as a couple and go home with her at the end of the night, where he’d kiss her all over again, not stopping until she was screaming his name with her legs wrapped around his head.
He really had no self-restraint when it came to Liv fantasies. He also had a hard time remembering why that was a bad thing, especially when she caught sight of him.
Her eyes lit up and a gorgeous smile spread across her face. “Hey, you.” Was he imagining that her voice was softer, more sultry, than he’d heard in two years? She tilted her head toward the front of the line. “You want to take a ride with me?”
There was no way he was imagining that, not with the way her lower lip plumped out and she glanced up at him under her eyelashes. He stepped into line with a quick thanks to the couple behind them, who both gave him knowing winks—even if he didn’t recognize them, they definitely knew him and Liv.
They crawled ahead a few more feet, then the queue paused again. His heart beat fast and sure in his chest. His Olivia had just flirted, hardcore, with him. He hadn’t said anything, just walked over, and instead of being cheeky or combative, she’d suggested…well, hell, his mind filled in all the possible ways they could ride each other. Like a technicolour X-rated slideshow, snapshot memories of all the various ways they’d loved each other slammed through his head.
He slid his arm around her waist, sneaking his fingertips under the edge of her sweatshirt to press against her bare skin. He needed to remember that he was in uniform and had to return to work in half an hour. This wasn’t going to end with him hauling her over his shoulder and driving ten over the speed limit back to their house for a ride. They were going on a wagon covered in hay bales and excited, impressionable children.
He absolutely should not lean over and brush his lips against her temple, knowing it would make her shiver. He did it anyway because full restraint was a lost cause. So while he was there, Rafe decided to play with fire. Just a little bit. Just enough for his fingers to feel the pinch of the flame as the match burned. He wouldn’t use the match. Just light it and then blow it out.
“I�
��m surprised to see you here tonight, Liv. I didn’t think a slow, bumpy ride in the dark was your kind of thing.” He whispered the words against the outer curve of her ear and was rewarded with another shiver. Of course, it was also cold as hell. He shouldn’t assume…
She slowly turned her face towards him and smiled again, a simple curve of her mouth that tugged at something dangerous low in his gut. Really low. He gave silent thanks for the dark cover of night and a navy uniform as his erection started to swell. She knew what she was doing, the minx, because she kept her voice low and for his ears only. “As long as we keep our clothes on, I’m game for pretty much any kind of ride you want to take with me.”
How much trouble would he get in for causing a public scene and abandoning his post? Rafe couldn’t be sure he cared. But then her first words slid through his lusty haze. Clothes on? “Wait, what?”
Her face fell. “Weren’t we teasing each other? I thought…your comment about the bumpy ride…”
He kissed her forehead and pulled her close, pressing her hip into his pelvis. Hopefully it just looked like a hug, but between his gun on one side and his stick on the other lay proof of what her words did to him. She twisted and gasped against his chest and he quietly laughed. “This is so not the place for this conversation.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come tonight.”
Jesus, he couldn’t resist that. He squeezed her waist and ducked his head again. “I think you should come every night.”
“Haunt has been a once a year—oh.” She stilled, then turned her face even more towards him. “Who says I don’t come every night?”
Blood pounded through his veins, racing for his cock at the breathtaking image of Liv getting herself off. His tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth and he gave up any hope of responding. She’d most definitely won that round.
Smirking in knowing victory, she pushed away from him, but it was okay because she found his hand and wove her fingers into his and pulsed her hand reassuringly.
