Before she could even tell him to be safe—the alarm was so loud she could barely think—he was gone. By the time she stood and gathered up their trash, the sirens were wailing and the two trucks pulled out of their bays, swinging wide onto the street.
She couldn’t imagine what it was like to spend every workday without structure. There were rules and set hours, of course, but that alarm could sound at any time and they had to drop whatever they were doing and run. There could be a fire while they were trying to eat lunch or somebody stuck on a roof or in a car accident while they were doing some task or another.
Olivia couldn’t wrap her head around not knowing what each day would bring. She’d been young when she learned that deliberate planning of each day, week and beyond kept her focused and working toward her goals. Her parents had drilled the discipline of working intelligently and efficiently into her and it had worked. She not only accepted but embraced it, and now it was literally her life’s work.
Which she should get back to, she thought as she looked at the time. She was going to be lucky to make it home before Kelsey wrapped up for the day, and that didn’t make her happy. Either Kelsey would wait for her and Olivia would feel guilty, or Kelsey would leave and their end-of-day routine would get tacked onto tomorrow’s start-of-day routine. Olivia didn’t like their core workflow being interrupted, and she especially didn’t like when it was her own fault.
I’m on my way back, she messaged Kelsey. 40 mins to an hour, probably.
You can stay if you want. You know I can handle the end-of-day review.
She knew Kelsey could handle it. While she hadn’t been lying when she told Derek she didn’t really believe in luck, Kelsey applying when Olivia finally took the huge step of hiring an assistant had been the best unplanned thing to happen to McGovern Consulting. But if Olivia started sliding and dumping things off on her, she was not only straying from her own plan, but she’d mess up Kelsey’s workflow, as well.
I know, but he’s gone anyway. The alarm went off, so I don’t know how long he’ll be.
I’ll wait. And I’ll probably eat all your grapes, just FYI.
Olivia smiled and left the fire station to walk back to where she’d parked her car. According to the navigation app, she should be back in time so Kelsey only stayed an extra fifteen minutes or so. That wasn’t bad, but she needed to do better from now on.
Once she’d put on her seat belt and started the engine, she glanced at the leather journal sitting on the passenger seat, where it usually did. She’d had a planner with her at all times since middle school, when she’d struggled both academically and personally until her parents decided she needed structure. The first one was a simple composition notebook she’d kept track of goals and tasks in. This particular leather cover had been a gift from her father when she officially opened McGovern Consulting.
It had always been her anchor. And while sometimes an anchor could feel like it was dragging you down, it was really the thing that kept you from being adrift at sea. Right now, she felt as if the feelings Derek elicited in her—excitement and anxiety and doubts and passion and what-ifs—were tugging at her, like choppy seas.
But just looking at the book that held a plan to keep her on track comforted her. As long as she was anchored, she could weather any storm.
* * *
It was a beautiful day for a ball game. The sun was shining, but it wasn’t too hot and they were enjoying a rare break from the humidity.
They’d taken all six tickets they could get—Derek, Aidan, Scott, Danny, Gavin and Grant, who’d decided he could sneak enough out of his ring fund to spring for a ticket. And they spent the time before the game started hunched around Grant’s phone while he showed them the rings he’d narrowed it down to.
“Has she dropped any hints about what kind of ring she likes?” Danny asked after they’d seen three.
“No. She’s not... I don’t know if she knows I’m thinking about this.”
“I didn’t have to guess what kind of ring Ashley wanted. Every time we walked by a jewelry store, she’d stop and pick one out. Every commercial. Every flyer in the mail. She wasn’t shy about it.” He smiled. “And she still cried when I proposed to her. I think no matter how much ring shopping they do, they love the ring you give them.”
Derek nodded. “I didn’t have a lot of money back when Amber and I got married, and I was half afraid she’d reject me because the ring was...let’s just say it was more of a chip than a rock. But she loved that ring.”
“I don’t think Wren would want a big, flashy ring.” Grant frowned, and flipped through the pictures again. “But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she doesn’t wear big, flashy jewelry because she doesn’t have any. I want it to be perfect for her.”
“It will be,” Danny said. “Because you’re going to know it when you see it. You’re going to see a ring and think, Wren would love that, and that’ll be the one.”
“I can’t believe we’re at a ball game talking about women’s jewelry,” Gavin grumbled, and they all gave him a hard stare. After a few seconds, he laughed.
“Yeah,” Aidan said. “That was you who interrupted a Bruins playoff game to ask us what we thought of the ring you picked out for Cait.”
The game started, which put an end to the ring talk. They’d wait until a few innings had passed and then splurge on nachos and a beer. It was how they always did it.
Derek tried to get to a few games during the season. One or two with the guys and, if he was lucky, a couple with the kids. They were old enough now to sit through an entire game without getting bored and asking to leave in the third inning. It was still a little tough for Isaac because he was younger and he wasn’t as interested in baseball as he was in hockey and football. It was Julia who’d curl up on the couch with her dad and watch the Red Sox on TV.
He wouldn’t mind bringing Olivia to a game. Usually he didn’t like watching games with people who didn’t know sports because they asked a thousand questions and he spent more time explaining the game than actually watching it. But with Olivia, he bet it would be different. Teaching somebody about a game he loved so they could enjoy it together in the future was appealing. And she was smart. She’d pick it up quickly and probably enjoy the strategic elements of baseball.
He dug his phone out of his pocket and sent her a text message. Busy?
It was only a few seconds before she responded. In a car, between meetings. Aren’t you at a sports thing?
He chuckled, because she was exaggerating her lack of sports knowledge to amuse him. Not that she knew much, but she knew he was at a baseball game. Even she wasn’t oblivious to the Red Sox and Yankees rivalry. I wish you were here with me.
I...don’t. Sorry. But I wouldn’t mind doing something else with you.
That got his attention, but his phone showed that she was already writing another message.
That sounded provocative, but I meant that I wouldn’t mind doing anything else but watching sports with you. But provocative also works.
Some crowd noise made him look up from his phone, but since the guys he was there with were neither cheering nor shouting angry insults, he didn’t think he’d missed anything important.
After taking a second to skim the calendar app on his phone—clearly Olivia was rubbing off on him—he went back to the messaging app. Why don’t you come over Saturday night? We can watch a movie and then do provocative things. I’ll make you breakfast.
There was a long pause, which was unusual because she was not only sitting in a car with the phone in her hand, but she typed on her phone faster than most people could type on a keyboard.
The kids are going home late Saturday afternoon, he added. Jason’s family is having something in Maine and they’re leaving very early Sunday morning.
Do I get to pick the movie?
The immediacy of that response was a pretty strong confirmation he’d been
right. She’d been wondering if Julia and Isaac would be there and had been reluctant to ask. What he didn’t know was if her answer was dependent on it. And if so, whether it was because of his promise of provocative things, or just their presence in general.
Maybe he shouldn’t have told her what Julia had said or that he was reluctant to tell them about her so soon after they got the news about Amber’s pregnancy. Maybe she’d been wondering if he’d changed his mind, but it bugged him that she seemed reluctant to ask. They needed to be able to talk about the kids without it being awkward.
We should watch Die Hard, he typed. It kills me that you haven’t seen it.
Those provocative things better be VERY provocative. Only a few seconds passed before another text came through. I’m almost to my destination. Enjoy the game and call me later.
Good luck.
When he tucked the phone back in his pocket, unable to keep the smile off his face, he caught the other guys staring at him.
Gavin shook his head. “Sad, man. You are so far gone.”
“Bullshit. You’re telling me you’ve never sent Cait a text from a game?”
“Not when we’re tied up with the Yankees and we’ve got runners on the corners and no outs.”
Okay, maybe he was pretty far gone.
When the Red Sox finally got the win, knocking the Yankees down yet another notch in the standings, they made the long walk back to the lot where they’d parked in high spirits. They’d probably all head over to Kincaid’s and have a beer that didn’t cost a day’s wages, rehashing the game with Tommy and Fitzy, who would have watched it at the bar.
“You ever gonna get rid of this car, or what?” Grant asked when they reached Derek’s beige four-door beater. His Jeep, which he and Gavin had come in, was farther down the row. Aidan, Scott and Danny had ridden in Scott’s truck, which was across the lot.
Derek shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it, but it’s paid for.”
“I know a guy selling his truck because his wife’s having twins and it gets like eight miles to the gallon. It’s not a bad-looking ride for the money he’s asking.”
“I have two kids.”
“Yeah, but it’s got a bench seat. Put Isaac in the middle.”
And what if, someday, Olivia joined them on an outing? Right now, he had a family of three. But it didn’t seem smart to invest in a vehicle that only sat three.
The car had actually been the one Amber drove most of the time while they were married. He’d driven a beat-up, small SUV with all-wheel drive they’d bought for short money off her uncle because they needed two vehicles and couldn’t afford anything better while still paying off Isaac’s medical bills. If the weather was bad, Derek usually drove and if he was working, they’d switch. The SUV wasn’t all that reliable, though, so he hadn’t liked her driving it.
When they’d separated and Derek wasn’t around to shovel and salt the driveway or drive the kids when the roads were iffy, he’d told her they’d switch cars and then trade the SUV in toward a newer model. He’d paid the bulk of the difference, but it had been worth it for the peace of mind of knowing his soon-to-be ex-wife and his children were safer on the road.
“I’ve always wanted to get eight miles to the gallon,” he said, and then he snorted. “Driving from gas station to gas station is my kind of fun.”
Grant shrugged. “Suit yourself, but let me know if you change your mind.”
He wouldn’t. He’d thought about finding a vehicle that was more “him” now that his finances had settled post-divorce. His rent wasn’t bad and, other than child support, it was his only big expense. But the car was paid for and the truck that had caught his eye one day when he was driving by a dealership had such a ridiculous price tag, he’d laughed at the salesman.
He wouldn’t mind having a heated steering wheel in February, but he hadn’t picked the winning lottery numbers yet.
An image of Olivia trying to climb up into a truck in one of her skirts and those high heels popped into his head, making him smile. Of course, if she couldn’t quite make it, he’d be more than happy to give her a boost up.
“Kincaid’s?” he asked as he opened the door. The hinge creaked and Grant rolled his eyes. The kid was a vehicle snob.
“You know it,” Scott said. “See you there.”
He’d go and have a beer. Shoot the shit with the guys for a while. But he’d make sure he was home in time to call Olivia. He liked to end his days with the sound of her voice.
Chapter Ten
Since Derek had offered to drive her home and that meant more time with him, Olivia took a Lyft to his address late Saturday afternoon.
She hiked her bag on her shoulder and walked down the driveway to the set of stairs he’d told her would have a garden gnome in a Red Sox T-shirt on the bottom step. That staircase led to his second-floor apartment.
The bag was heavier than usual, since she’d suffered a rare bit of indecision about what to bring. I’ll make you breakfast. She’d taken that as an invitation to spend the night, but it would feel awkward to knock on his door with an overnight bag. If she was driving her own car, she could have left it in the trunk. In the end, she’d compromised by throwing a few things, including her toiletries and tightly rolled leggings and a shirt, into a zipped tote.
Derek must have heard her footsteps on the stairs or been watching for her, because he opened the door as she reached the small landing where another garden gnome sat, this one wearing a Patriots jersey.
She felt that jolt of excitement and anticipation she felt every time she saw him, and wondered if that would fade with time. She hoped not.
And today’s anticipation was heightened by the fact he looked delicious in a white T-shirt stretching across his chest and shoulders, along with faded jeans that hugged his legs. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he responded, and he kissed her before pulling her inside. “Sorry the place is kind of a mess. Usually the kids do a better job of picking up after themselves, but they left in a hurry because Amber hasn’t started packing yet.”
She set the tote bag down by the door as she looked around. The place wasn’t fancy or big, but it was clean and had big windows. They were standing in a kitchen and dining area that was totally open to the living room, and there were several doors she assumed were bedrooms and a bathroom.
“It’s not much,” he said, “but the neighborhood’s not bad and finding an affordable three-bedroom isn’t easy. I didn’t want them to have to share a room when they’re with me, but I also didn’t want to sleep on the couch with my feet hanging over the arm of it.”
She laughed. “That could be pretty awkward when you have company, too.”
“That wasn’t really a consideration at the time.”
A framed photo on the wall near the TV caught her attention and she moved closer. He’d shown her some pictures of his kids on his phone, of course, but his phone’s camera sucked. This shot of Isaac and Julia had been taken on the beach by somebody who not only had an actual camera, but knew what they were doing with it.
They were in pretend surfer poses, both of them laughing, and Olivia could practically feel the joy radiating from them.
“That’s my favorite picture of them,” Derek said. “Amber and Ellen—Jeff Porter’s wife—took them to the beach last year and she does photography on the side.”
“I don’t think I met a Jeff at the bar.”
“One of his kids had a thing, so he couldn’t make it. I took over his shift, actually, when he retired. I used to work Saturdays which sucked with the kids and all. He had a bum knee and...some other issues. But he’s doing good now that he’s off the job. The pain in his knee is better and he and Ellen and the kids are a lot happier.”
There was a lot more to that story, but Olivia didn’t pry. “That’s good. And you need some glass wipes or something.”
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She reached up to swipe at some of the fingerprints in the bottom corner of the glass, but Derek caught her wrist and stopped her. He gave her a sheepish grin, his cheeks pink. “That’s how I say goodnight when they’re with Amber sometimes. I touch the glass on my way to bed.”
Olivia’s insides turned to mush and she turned so she could wrap her arms around him. Maybe luck really was a thing, because there was no other way to explain getting stuck in an elevator with a guy this great. “Like the picture of that hockey player at the bar?”
He chuckled as he ran his hands over her hips. “Kind of. And I can’t believe I’m dating a woman who calls Bobby Orr that hockey player.”
“I’ll write his name down in my book so I’ll remember it.”
“If you remember all the names of the athletes I talk about, you might expect me to start remembering all the computer stuff and books you talk about, so I’d rather you call him that hockey guy for a while.”
She laughed and slid her hands under his T-shirt. She loved how his abs clenched under her touch. “I try not to talk about work too much.”
“I know, and I don’t mind when you do. You get really intense and it’s hot.”
“Speaking of hot, it’s a little warm in here.”
He grinned before lowering his mouth to hers and kissing her until there was no doubt it was very, very warm in there.
“I turned the air-conditioning down so you’d get hot and strip all your clothes off,” he said, undoing the top button of the long shirt she’d thrown over leggings.
“You did not.”
He chuckled as he moved to the next button. And the next. “No, I didn’t. The air conditioner’s an ancient window unit and loud as hell, so I only turn it on when it’s really humid or the kids complain.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Do you want me to turn it on?”
She undid the bottom button of her shirt and worked her way up until their hands met. “I’d rather strip all my clothes off. And yours, too.”
They managed to get most of their clothes off by the time they reached the couch, but she was still wearing her pink lace panties and bra when he pulled her down onto his lap. She was pretty sure he’d timed it that way purposely because he really liked lace.
Under Control Page 12
