Butterfly Cove

by Christina Skye

  He nodded slowly. “It was a skill I hadn’t known I had. When I came back here, I thought that was behind me. Except it never will be. I won’t pull you into that world, Olivia. It’s not a place you should know about.”

  “You did the right thing, Rafe. I have no question about that.”

  “You don’t know about any of it,” he said harshly. “I thought I could make this work but I can’t, Livie. I’d end up hurting you again. I refuse to let that happen. It’s over,” he said quietly. “You deserve a prince and a fairy-tale ending.” He picked up his hat. “All I can give you is shadows and bad memories. Let it go. Believe me, it’s best like this.” He moved closer, touching her cheek lightly, carefully.

  And then he took a step back, his eyes turning distant. “It’s best like this. I know it. In a week or a month, you’ll know it, too.”

  Olivia heard the words as if they came through a long tunnel. She couldn’t seem to move.

  I won’t, she thought. You’re wrong.

  His feet echoed across the room. She heard the door open. “I won’t believe that,” she said. “I’ll never believe that, Rafe.”

  But he had already gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  IT WAS THE right thing to do.

  Rafe told himself that over and over the following day. He had never fit in here as a boy, and now he was back from a war zone with ten years of baggage.

  He clenched his hands and tried not to remember Olivia’s pale, rigid features. This was the right thing to do.

  He hadn’t heard from Walker or Jilly. That meant Olivia had not spoken about this with them. Probably she had seen the good sense in what he had told her. He didn’t want to hurt her again, but a clean break now was infinitely preferable to a slow, seeping wound.

  Meanwhile, as he went about his business, Rafe registered every sidelong glance, every suspicious question. There was a protectiveness about Olivia that was impossible to miss. When he went to the café for food, he saw the averted eyes and heard the whispered conversations.

  Yes, leaving Summer Island was clearly the right thing to do.

  Tom had been against his plan to go, but once Rafe made it clear that his mind was made up, the sheriff had reluctantly agreed. At the end of the day Rafe would be on the road, headed south or east or anywhere but Summer Island.

  He heard the sound of car horns and raised voices outside his window. Brakes screeched loudly.

  The traffic was bad today. That was strange, because there were no special events that he knew about.

  Feet clicked down the hall from his desk. Low voices. More honking outside.

  Rafe heard pebbles tossed against his window. Frowning, he moved around his desk and glanced out. Then he blinked and looked again.

  Cars were backed all along Main Street. People milled around, looking up at the police station. Then they turned to stare at the big red BMW convertible pulled over the curb, halfway onto the grass. The shiny car had blocked the sidewalk to the police station.

  Rafe saw who was driving the red Beemer and muttered under his breath.

  Olivia? Why was she sitting on the hood, staring up at his window? And whose car was that?

  “Where’s a police officer when you need one?” she called out, clearly oblivious to the disturbance she was creating. “I’m talking to you, Deputy Russo. I’m pretty sure that a few laws have been broken down here. So why don’t you step away from your desk and come do your civic duty? Take me into custody.”

  Rafe ran a hand over his eyes, telling himself he wasn’t seeing this.

  He turned to find Tom Wilkinson in his doorway. The sheriff cleared his throat and pointed toward the street. “Someone’s calling you, Russo.”

  “I heard.”

  “Then maybe you’d better go deal with it. I can’t have a car parked on our front lawn. She’s blocking the whole street now.”

  Rafe shook his head. “So what do you want me to do about it?”

  The sheriff hooked two fingers in his belt. “If she’s broken the law, I’m counting on you to arrest her, Deputy Russo. Now get moving.”

  Him? Arrest the town good girl? The boy voted most likely to screw up his life? No, Rafe would talk some sense into Olivia Sullivan for her own good.

  There were more cars and more people gawking when he opened the front door. He elbowed his way through a growing crowd. Once he came around the corner of the building, Rafe saw why.

  Olivia was lying on the hood of the Beemer, wearing a raincoat. Her feet were bare and her brightly painted red toenails moved up and down as she bounced her leg impatiently. When she saw Rafe, she gave a brilliant smile and sat up.

  Her raincoat gaped open. Rafe was pretty sure she was only wearing a lacy bra and bikini panties underneath.

  Before he could ask what the hell she thought she was doing, Olivia sat up and crossed her legs, looking very pleased. “Well, at last. I’m glad to see our local law enforcement on the job. I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be here on the front lawn. And do you see that carton of Coke in my front seat? I just stole it. So you’d better arrest me.”

  Rafe felt the people around him push closer, trying to hear. He heard someone whisper, “Isn’t that Olivia Sullivan? Why is she in that raincoat with no shoes?”

  He pushed through the crowd and leaned over the car, frowning. “Livie, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but—”

  “Do? I’m trying to do my civic duty. I’m a dangerous criminal. I should be taken into custody immediately.”

  “Hell. Come off the hood of that car, Livie.” Rafe kept his voice low in a vain hope that the people around him couldn’t hear.

  “Why should I come off the car? I just spent all my money to buy it. I had a perfectly good Volvo. But it’s so...borrring.” She dragged out the word and gave a little laugh, studying her red toenails.

  That’s when Rafe heard the slur in her voice. “Olivia, have you been drinking?”

  She tilted her head and considered the question. “Yep, I have.”

  Rafe frowned. “How much have you been drinking?”

  “Two bottles of beer. One glass of wine.” She stared at the tree next to the spot where her car was parked. “I tried some vodka. Didn’t like it. So I had two glasses of champagne next.”

  Rafe winced. She was going to have one helluva hangover the next day, which would serve her right. And she didn’t fool him for a moment. “I’m not going to arrest you, Olivia. I’m going to take you inside and give you black coffee until you sober up. I’ll have someone drive this car off the sidewalk while we do it.”

  She shook her head. “No, you won’t.” Still smiling, she pulled a key out of the pocket of her raincoat, which was now gaping open with a dangerous view of her slender thigh. As Rafe watched, the key disappeared into her lacy bra. “Not unless you come and get it.”

  Behind Rafe someone chuckled.

  “There’s more, Deputy. I’ve got rented DVDs in my car. They’re three months old and I never paid any fines. I’ve got library books that were never returned, too. Some of them were my father’s. Do you know he borrowed a Tom Clancy book back in 2003 and never returned it? Can you believe that? The town mayor and he didn’t return his library books.” Olivia half slid off the front of the red BMW, landing on her bare feet right in front of Rafe. She dug one red fingernail into his chest. “So what are you waiting for, Deputy Russo? Arrest me.”

  There was more low laughter around Rafe.

  He leaned closer. “Damn it, Livie, I’m not going to arrest you. Now where did you put your shoes? It’s cold out here. You’re going to catch pneumonia.”

  “Don’t feel a thing. Must be the champagne. Or the Glenfiddich that I found in the pantry.”

  “Glenfiddich? You never mentioned that,” Rafe said curtly.

  “Forgot.” She turned slowly, her hands outstretched. Rafe saw way too much naked thigh when she did it. “It feels wonderful. Like little bubbles dancing into my brain. If you really want me
to back the car off the sidewalk, then I can—”

  Rafe stopped her quickly. “There’s no way you’re getting behind the wheel of anything. You’re way over the legal alcohol limit.”

  “I guess I am.” Olivia glanced down, trying to peer into the top of her bra. “I’m not sure where the key is. Why don’t you have a look?”

  Rafe pulled the raincoat tight around her. “We’re going inside.”

  “So you’re going to arrest me?”

  She was still smiling at him radiantly when she swayed and wrapped one hand around the mirror of the shiny new car, trying to stay upright.

  Rafe caught her before she fell. “Come on.”

  But Olivia wasn’t done. She smiled up at him, touching his cheek. “That’s nice. Thank you.” She glanced over his shoulder and frowned at the tall man behind Rafe. “There’s no need to look so angry, Mr. Howland. I know you don’t like Deputy Russo. You’ve been telling everyone that he’s mean to animals. And it’s all because when Rafe was in fifth grade he threw a balloon filled with water at your cat. That stupid tomcat chased us all over town. He clawed our feet and jumped off a porch at us. He even bit Jilly. If you ask me, that cat was the one breaking the law. But it makes a better story the way you tell it, I guess.”

  Olivia pointed a finger at the woman standing next to Roy Howland. “You don’t like Deputy Russo either, do you, Mrs. Long? I think it’s because your daughter had a crush on him all the way through high school. Deputy Russo wasn’t interested, so your daughter stole a pack of cigarettes from the cash and carry and blamed it on Deputy Russo, didn’t she? Too bad everyone saw her take the cigarettes. You never forgave Deputy Russo for that, did you?”

  The tall woman flushed bright red and stalked away.

  Rafe knew exactly where Olivia was heading with this and he didn’t want her help. “Don’t fight me, Olivia. We’re going inside.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.” She wriggled, struggling to get free. “I want to stay right here. I want to drive my car off your front lawn—but I can’t find my keys. They’re in here somewhere.” Olivia twisted sharply, trying to reach into the front of her raincoat.

  Sweet heaven, what would she do next? He thought about having one of the other deputies take her inside for coffee. That would be safer. But Rafe didn’t want anyone else touching her.

  Not now or ever.

  “Are you going to put me in a jail cell? I’ve never seen one.”

  Rafe caught back an oath. “No, I’m not taking you to a cell. I’m going to dump you into the back of my cruiser. Then I’m going to drive you home and make you drink about two gallons of coffee.”

  Olivia made a slow pout. “Coffee? Don’t want any of that.”

  The avidly curious crowd parted in front of Rafe as he carried Olivia around to his cruiser. He was congratulating himself on getting the situation under control when he felt her wriggle against him. One leg rocked in the air. She gave him an innocent smile.

  And the smallest thong bikini Rafe had ever seen dropped down onto her toe, swung in the air and then went flying over his head.

  He made very certain that the raincoat didn’t slip again. With a wave of relief he dropped her into the backseat of his cruiser. “You are now in official custody, Ms. Sullivan,” he said gruffly. “My custody. And it’s going to be one helluva bumpy ride.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  OLIVIA LOOKED AROUND her with interest. “Good. I should be.” Then she wrinkled her nose. “It smells funny back here. Did you know that?”

  “Sometimes people throw up. Usually when they’re drunk like you are.” Rafe slid into the driver’s seat, threw the locks and started the car. “I know exactly what you’re doing. It’s a bad idea.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Olivia said airily. She leaned back in the seat, and the raincoat skidded down her shoulder, revealing all of her neck and a good part of her lacy pink bra.

  Rafe scowled at her in the rearview mirror. “The raincoat. Close it up, Olivia.”

  She looked down and shrugged. “Aren’t you going to put handcuffs on me? I could be dangerous.”

  Rafe rolled his eyes. “The only danger here is that you might throw up all over the backseat,” he muttered.

  “Possible.” Olivia frowned. “I’m not feeling so good now.”

  Rafe glanced back at her in concern. “How bad is it?”

  “I’ll survive,” she said in a very small voice. “I hope.” She looked out the window as Rafe turned off the main street. “Aren’t you going back on High Street, past the police station? People should see you doing your civic duty in arresting a dangerous thief.”

  Rafe muttered under his breath and ignored her.

  * * *

  OLIVIA LOOKED WORSE by the time he parked in her driveway. Her face was pale and her eyes were closed. She had one hand open on her stomach as if she was sick.

  Rafe opened the door and lifted her out carefully. Even though he knew it was dangerous to touch her, he swung her up into his arms and carried her up the front steps. “How do you feel?”

  Her answer was unintelligible. Her eyes fluttered once, and she might have muttered his name. Then she was out cold.

  If he hadn’t been so angry, Rafe might almost have laughed.

  He still had her house key, and he juggled her against his arm while he unlocked the front door. He put her down on the couch while he went to turn off the alarm.

  When he came back, Olivia was propped awkwardly on the sofa, peering at him. “Where am I?”

  “You were at the police station. Now you’re at home.”

  “Are you going to extract a confession of all the things I did?”

  “I’ll skip the interrogation,” Rafe said dryly. “Your punishment will be the mother of all hangovers tomorrow morning. Hasn’t anybody ever told you not to mix hard liquor, beer and champagne?”

  Olivia rubbed her forehead. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.” She tried to stand up and swayed dangerously. Rafe lunged and caught her waist.

  “Hell. What am I going to do with you, Olivia?”

  Her eyes closed. Her head fell against his chest and she wriggled closer. “Anything you want, Officer,” she whispered.

  * * *

  GRIMLY RAFE CARRIED her up to bed and slid her under the covers. There were a whole lot of things he wanted to do to her. He wanted to shake her and then talk some sense into her. He was trying to do the right thing, but she wasn’t helping.

  He couldn’t take his eyes away from her red nails as she lay in the middle of the big white bed, deep asleep, one hand under her cheek. In the silence Rafe felt something shake free deep inside him, the ground shifting hard beneath him. There had always been a bond between them, even when he was nine and she was barely seven. How could he walk out on her now, when leaving felt all wrong?

  He rubbed his neck and sat down in the big wing chair by the picture window. Through the tall trees outside he could see the moon caught on dark branches.

  That morning everything had seemed so clear. He had known exactly the right thing to do.

  Now nothing seemed clear.

  On the bed Olivia moved suddenly. She twisted sharply, saying words that he couldn’t make out. Rafe sat down beside her and took her hand. “It’s okay. Just a bad dream.”

  Her fingers tightened. She seemed to be pushing something away from her face, almost like spiderwebs. Then her eyes opened.

  She stared at him for what felt like an eternity.

  “You’re here. I’m not...dreaming? Or just drunk?”

  “I’m here—even though I shouldn’t be. That was a crazy thing you did, Livie.” Crazy but wonderful, Rafe thought. And by breakfast, everyone in town would be talking about it.

  Her eyes hardened. “It had to be done. One of us had to be sensible.”

  He had to smile at her skewed logic. “If you can call it sensible. But I’ll be honest first. I think I might have made a mistake.”

  She raise
d an eyebrow. “No kidding.”

  “Whatever I did was to protect you, Livie.”

  “I don’t see it that way.” She stopped and swallowed a sound of pain. “You were right. Those mixed drinks pack a punch.”

  “Are you okay? Does your head hurt or your stomach?”

  “Everything hurts. I’ll never drink again.”

  Rafe eased her back onto the bed and pulled the covers up around her. “That’s a relief. We’d have a permanent traffic jam on Main Street if you did. I’d never get anything done.”

  She looked interested at that. “I thought you were leaving.”

  “So did I. I keep trying—but it always feels wrong.”

  Rafe was done attempting to argue sense into her. If she was crazy enough to put up with his life and all its shadows, who was he to argue?

  Olivia closed her eyes and slid her fingers through his. “About time,” she mumbled.

  “But we need some ground rules, Livie. There are things you need to understand, things I have to face. It’s going to take me some time to deal with that,” Rafe said slowly. “And then we have to consider the future. As it happens, I put away a fair amount of money while I was in the service. There was nothing else to spend it on, so I saved it. Back then, a good portfolio actually made money.”

  Olivia just stared at him. “You’re rich?”

  “I wouldn’t call it rich. Comfortable maybe. But I can help you while you get your finances sorted out.” His voice fell, grew husky. “So I will help you. It’s not open to question.”

  She started to argue, to tell him that she could manage quite nicely by herself. Rafe saw the stubbornness fill her eyes.

  Then she sank back against the pillow, one hand to her forehead. “I’m sure there’s a reason to argue with you about that, but it can wait until tomorrow. It’s starting. That thing you told me about.”