by Zoe York
They had a tight itinerary, but Ashley kept them on track. The other woman was probably a few years younger than Olivia, but she seemed like a total professional.
“The trick is to remember that they’re helpless without you,” she whispered as Greg went through his spiel for the fourth time that morning, outlining the compensation offered to property owners and what temporary changes they might expect to see. Olivia couldn’t hold back a laugh, and had to hide it behind her hand when Greg glanced in their direction. Ashley rolled her eyes. “The next trick is to learn to laugh on the inside.”
By the time they arrived at the diner for an early dinner, Olivia’s head was swimming with details. She’d taken pages of notes, asked dozens of questions, and was super glad that Greg was going to do all the talking at the event that night. Ashley and Greg slid into the booth first, on opposite sides, while Olivia ducked into the kitchen to say hi to Lily Gill. On the way back to their table she grabbed the menus from Deena, who promised to be over in a minute with coffee.
“Do I look that tired?” she asked, pausing at the counter.
Deena smirked. “No, but rumour has it Rafe’s truck has been parked outside your place every night for near on two weeks now. I assume you’re not getting much sleep.”
“Oh my god, seriously?” Life in a small town still made her head spin sometimes. “Do people have nothing better to talk about?”
Deena shrugged. “Rafe is cute. Everyone is sad he’s off the market again.”
Olivia gave up. Even though she was blushing, she pointed a stern finger at the other waitress. “Hands off my man.”
That earned her a few chuckles from the people sitting at the counter. She puffed out her still flaming cheeks and finally made her way back to Ashley and Greg, who were deep in conversation. Their coats were piled on the bench beside Ashley, so she slid in next to Greg.
When Deena came by they all shoved their mugs greedily toward her carafe of coffee, and before she left they’d ordered as well. Olivia sighed and thunked her head back against the padded booth. Greg patted her hand on the table. “There, there, new girl.”
“I need a nap before the meeting. Will you fire me for saying that?”
Ashley laughed. “Wait until we have fifteen hour filming days.”
Olivia reached for her mug. “I need to stock up on energy drinks, clearly.”
Greg pointed at Ashley. “This one goes running every morning, it’s amazing.”
Maybe Ashley wasn’t younger than her—just healthier and fitter. “That’s awesome. I…walk. And pretend to jog. Once or twice a week.”
Greg laughed. “I only work out because I pay my personal trainer something akin to a mortgage payment every month.”
Ashley kicked him under the table. “That’s not true.”
He looked at her fondly and shook his head. “Only because of your good influence.”
Olivia looked at the bottom of her empty mug. “I need more coffee if I’m going to keep up with both of you. I’ll just go help myself.”
She stood up and turned toward the counter—and her husband.
Who looked pissed.
She frowned and walked over. “Hey, sweetie, I didn’t know you were here.” He was still in his uniform, which made sense given that his shift didn’t end for another two hours. “Is everything okay?”
“You think we can use the office?”
“What?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” His words were clipped even more than his usual cop voice.
She glanced back at Greg and Ashley. They were looking over the maps she’d made notes on over the course of the day. She nodded and followed him to the office.
“We haven’t done this in a while,” she joked, but it landed flat.
He paced back and forth for a minute.
“Rafe, what is going on?”
“Come here.” His tone wasn’t exactly inviting, but he was clearly trying. She went, reluctantly. He let out a deep sigh and pulled her in close. He was wound so tight, the tendons in his neck were hard under her hands. He wove his fingers into her hair, tugging hard enough to make her gasp. “Tonight’s a big deal for you.”
He said it like a statement, but it felt like a question. She searched his face for a clue but found nothing. “Yes.”
He shook his head and swore softly under his breath before lowering his mouth to kiss her. Soft and persistent, this was a kiss to remind her of something and that thought pissed her off. She pulled back even though she wanted to sink in deeper.
“Is that a problem?” She blinked at the awful thought that Rafe might not want her to have that kind of a job, something bigger than a 7-3 shift. Something that wove into the fabric of her being, like his work did.
Again he swore, and this time he was the one that stepped back. “No, jeez, of course not. It’s just…I didn’t realize. So when I saw you…”
She waited. Guessing wouldn’t help. Neither would filling the silence. If this was hard for him, let it be hard. Figuring out a new normal might take a few fights like this, if this could even be called a fight.
“Your hair is down.”
She did a double take. “I’m sorry?”
“You never do that. And for a second, I thought it was for him.”
“Him who?” She shook her head in confusion.
“Him. Your boss, I guess. The guy you were so cozy with in the booth.”
She blinked in disbelief. What the hell? “Rafe, honey, you have completely the wrong idea—“ He was pissed at her for her hair? Well, two could play the irrational game. “This is ridiculous. You think I’m cheating on you? After watching you bring a woman here for breakfast after a damn sleepover? You’ve slept in my bed every single night for weeks now. How can you doubt that I’m yours?”
“Keep your voice down. I didn’t accuse you of anything.”
“You keep your damn voice down, Rafe Minelli! This is stupid!”
He had the good grace to at least look chagrined, but he didn’t apologize.
“You’ve never been a jealous person, what the hell is going on?”
He twisted his lips into a flat line. It was better than a scowl, but not by much. “I don’t know.”
The last thing she wanted to do was placate him, but she had to get back to work and she didn’t want their first fight to linger, unresolved, because she’d walked away from him. “Well, I don’t know either. But I don’t like it.”
His jaw clenched and he stared at a point high above her head for a minute. “Today was a shitty day at work. The kind of day that makes me wish we had a hot tub and a beer fridge on the deck.”
And no drama from the wife. She could read between the lines and it made her sad.
“No. Liv, I can see where you’re going in your head and that’s not it, I promise. It’s just that I forgot for a minute. Even when we got divorced, you were always…”
She stepped forward. It was her turn to use a kiss to stave off a fight. She grabbed the front of his uniform and tugged him down to her level. “Shut up.”
“I thought you told me that wasn’t a nice thing to say,” he whispered.
“It’s not, but drastic times…” She licked her way inside his mouth, making him groan. Good. He needed to remember she was his, and he was hers, and drama was stupid. Maybe she needed to remember that, too. “Come on. Can I introduce you to them?” She extended her hand and wiggled her fingers.
They both gave sighs of relief when he took her hand. He tugged her close and she tipped her face up to his. “I love you, you idiot.”
“I don’t want to lose you, Liv.”
She shook her head. “If you do, it won’t be over another man, I promise. But it might be because you’re a lunkhead.”
“Got it.” He kissed her again, this time a sweet brush of his lips against hers.
“Why are you here, anyway?” she asked quietly as they walked back into the dining room.
“Your meeting. The commander wan
ted to send a community officer. I volunteered.”
That helped. A lot. She grinned up at him. “Really?”
He nodded. “I’m proud of you, Liv.”
But would he continue to be when the filming started and she was gone more than she was home, and their schedules rivalled each other for work hours each week? Could he handle that? Or did he need her to just be his Liv, waiting for him to take down her ponytail at the end of the day?
At the booth, Greg noticed them before she could start the introductions, and he slid out of the booth to stand. “This must be Rafe,” he said, extending his hand.
Rafe glanced at her as he returned the handshake and Olivia blushed. “I don’t think I talk about you all that much.”
Ashley laughed. “No, but when you do mention him, you do that—“ she gestured at Olivia’s pink cheeks. “It’s cute.”
“Rafe, this is Greg DeCecco and Ashley Patterson.”
“Nice to meet you both. Liv has done a great job of selling your movie here, we’re all excited.”
“She’s something else. It’s too bad we can’t steal her away to come work with us full-time.” Greg shrugged. “Glad we have her on our team for this project, anyway.”
Rafe didn’t say anything, but from the way his hand tightened around her waist, Olivia knew he’d heard exactly what had just been said.
Her heart pounded in her chest. “Well, we should finish up…”
Greg sat again, and Rafe tugged her hand. “Walk me out.”
On the steps outside, she propped one hand on her hip and gave him a sassy smile. “Back to the office, walk me out…you’re getting bossy.”
He shook his head slowly, his eyes full of heat and his lips curling into a smile. “Nope, you’re not going to change the subject.”
“Change it from what? We weren’t talking about anything.”
“Did they offer you a full-time job in the city?”
“No.” Not exactly. “It didn’t get that far in the conversation.”
“Good.” Her eyes flared wide at that and he grinned. “I’m a selfish man, Liv. This isn’t news. I want you, and I want to stay here.”
She wanted to ask him what he’d do if she actually did take a job in the city. Had anything changed? But she wasn’t that strong. There was only one answer she wanted to hear, and she wasn’t sure it would be what he would offer.
Chapter 17
PINE HARBOUR responded to the town meeting with the enthusiasm of school children at a birthday party. She’d even seen her in-laws in the crowd, and Rafe’s dad had given her a nice wave. Anne studiously read the flyer Ashley had handed out at the door and avoided making eye contact.
So it was a big surprise the following Tuesday when she ran into Rafe’s mother at the bank and she stopped to talk. Olivia had just run in to the use the bank machine, and Anne had been inside. For a moment, Olivia wondered if she could just crawl into a deposit envelope and hide, but then her mother-in-law said her name and all pretence of ignorance was lost.
“Anne, how are you?”
“Fine, dear. Just done work?”
No, but it didn’t matter. She nodded because that was easier than explaining she was heading out to take pictures of a parking lot off the highway halfway to Tobermory. Anne wouldn’t think that was real work, let alone better work than the diner. “Nice warm snap we’re having, eh?”
“Indeed. Gianni and Tom have gone hunting for a few days.”
“Right. Shame that Rafe couldn’t get the time off, it sounded like a good trip.” Olivia winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She’d violated the first rule of daughter-in-law conversation following: never offer extraneous information.
“You and Rafe are spending a lot of time together again.”
Well, in for a penny… “Yes.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
Olivia shrugged.
Anne pursed her lips together as if she was tossing up the merits of saying anything further. Luck was not on Olivia’s side, because her mother-in-law decided to weigh in. “You don’t want your heart broken again, dear.”
Duh. But that wasn’t a given. “None of us know how anything will go.” Parse that, witch.
“You’ve always been keen to leave our town.”
Not true. Olivia bristled. “No more than you’ve been keen to see me go.” Anne gasped and Olivia closed her eyes. Why, why, why was she such an idiot? No good would come of a public fight. “Sorry, that was…snarky.”
Anne stared at her for a minute, her face softening. “He’ll never leave, you know.”
She did, and it hurt.
“Unless you gave him children,” Anne continued, the unexpected and twisted suggestion slamming into Olivia like a silent freight train. “Then he’d follow you wherever you wanted to go.”
“God,” Olivia gasped. “I’d never do that.”
“Well, that’s foolish.”
“If Rafe wants to live in Pine Harbour forever, then this is where we’ll be. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” Olivia shook her head in amazement. “If you think that I’d try to trick him—” She cut herself when she realized her mother-in-law was quietly laughing. “What?”
“Good.” Anne lifted her silk scarf from around her neck and tucked it over her head to protect her straightened hair from the brisk November wind. “This is good. You’ll come to dinner on Sunday.”
And then she was gone before Olivia realized that the last statement had been an order, not a question.
* * *
— —
* * *
“I ran into your mom today.” Olivia had watched Rafe polishing his boots for a few minutes before finally telling him.
Rafe set down his blackened shammy rag and turned to face her. “Oh yeah?”
“We had words.”
His lips quirked. “I didn’t get a lambasting phone call, so I’m guessing they weren’t bad words.”
“First some bad words, then good ones.” She shrugged. “I’d call it a modest victory.”
“Well, that’s…good.”
“She wants us to come to dinner on Sunday.”
He winced. “I have to work this weekend.”
“You’ve worked all week!” She dialled her tone back a bit. “Army?”
“They’re short on instructors for a range. I might be back in time for dinner, though.”
“No, I’m not going without you.”
“I’d meet you there.”
It was an innocuous offer, probably fair—it had been a while, but Liv seemed to remember range weekends ending early enough that, yeah, he might make it back. But for her first Minelli family dinner in two years? Maybe wasn’t good enough. “Probably best to reschedule for the next weekend you have free. Can you call her and tell her it won’t work out?”
“I know I’m working nights next weekend, and the following weekend is the regimental Christmas dinner. Maybe you could just go without me and I’ll meet you there.” He was looking straight at her, how could he not see that wasn’t the answer she was looking for? “Liv, what’s the big deal?”
“Nothing. But I think I’m actually busy on Sunday too, so if you could just call your mom, that would be great.” She spun on her heel and went to the bedroom. Their bedroom. He’d practically moved back in, and a laundry basket overflowing with basketball shorts and stupid man-sized t-shirts reinforced that point. This was all too familiar and painful. She started folding shirts with harsh, jerky motions, only partially aware of him moving around the living room. The sound of running water as he washed his hands make her pulse pick up and her face flush. Great, let’s fight.
She felt him in the doorway long before he said anything. God, she was so mad at him. Still. This wasn’t about dinner, this was about all the dinners and the weekends and the late nights and early mornings. Six years of resentment burbled up inside her until hot, angry tears spilled down her face and still he stood there.
He’s not running a
way, the hopeful part of her heart said. He’s not magically making it better, the larger, more cynical part retorted.
“Liv, look at me.” His voice was rough, angry and insistent.
“Go away.”
“Can’t do that, I’m afraid.”
She shot a sharp look at him over her shoulder. “Really? I think you can and do go away all the time.”
He caught his upper lip between his teeth, like he was holding himself back from saying something nasty.
Maybe he was. Nausea pitched in her stomach.
“No,” he ground out. “We’re not doing this.”
Olivia didn’t know if she wanted to puke or cry or both. “Doing what?” she asked, the words teetering on the edge of being incomprehensible. She needed to pull herself together before she completely fell apart.
He stared at her, a hard, determined look that she couldn’t decipher. “Hurting each other.”
“That’s what we do.”
“We’re going to do things differently. I’m going to do this differently.” He flexed his jaw. “We’re just having a fight. Couples do that. We can do that, but not the way we used to.”
She laughed. “Sure, we’ll just completely change who we are.”
“We’ll go to counselling. Figure out how to talk without name-calling and blame.”
The words were right, but his tone…it was hard to believe that Rafe would sit there and listen to someone tell him how to be. And he still sounded so angry. “Just like that.” She couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice. She didn’t really try. He needed to know her doubts and fears.
“No, not just like that.” His voice could have cut glass. “It took being divorced for two years, getting back together, and then almost losing you again for me to realize I might need help being a better husband.”
