by Rachel Lacey
She walked quickly down the street and around the corner to where she’d parked her Prius, unable to wipe the silly grin off her face.
Last night had been amazing, crazy, overwhelming—so many things. She could fall for him if she wasn’t careful, and that would be dangerous. He’d already warned her not to, and she knew better than to try to get more than a man was willing, or able, to give.
She drove home to find two dogs, a puddle of pee, and a pile of poop waiting in the kitchen. Scooby gave her a wounded look, as if it offended him that she’d left him here to sleep among Bailey’s accidents.
Bailey herself could care less, ecstatic to have Olivia home. She put both dogs out back, grumbling as she got out a bottle of cleaner and paper towels to clean up the mess. Seriously, who was ever going to adopt the damn dog if she wasn’t potty trained?
Guilt settled heavy in Olivia’s stomach. If she was home more, if she spent more time working with her, she’d have Bailey potty trained by now.
The dogs were banging at the door so she let them in and fed them, then went upstairs to check on Hallie. The kitten was sprawled in Olivia’s bed like a queen, but evidence of her was everywhere. The curtains were ripped, and the vase on her dresser had tipped onto the floor and broken, leaving glass and flowers everywhere.
“Mew!” Hallie leaped up and pranced down the bed in a sideways kitten dance, as if not yet certain whether she’d present herself for petting or attack.
“Well, you certainly kept yourself busy, didn’t you?” Olivia flopped onto the bed. She’d hoped for a nap before work, but nope. These crazy animals were making her pay for spending the night at Pete’s.
Okay, so she’d learned her lesson. Maybe.
Then again, maybe not.
* * *
Pete was learning to plan ahead. He stopped by the rec center around lunchtime and left instructions for the boys to set up and start running drills when they arrived, in case he got held up at work again.
Luckily, his shift was fairly uneventful because he was semi-distracted thinking about Olivia. Fairly sleep deprived too, although that was nothing new. No muffins for the women’s shelter this morning though. No tension either.
He almost made it out on time, but the sheriff called him into his office as he was getting ready to change for soccer.
“I hear you’ve been poking around out at Halverson Foods,” he said.
Pete nodded. “I was investigating a string of vandalism at Olivia Bennett’s property. It looks like some of the factory workers may be behind it. They may be trying to intimidate her into backing off her campaign to get the place shut down.”
“That’s your assumption.” Linburgh’s face said he didn’t agree. “From what I hear, you’ve lost your objectivity where this case is concerned. Pass it off to Kirk.”
“Sir—”
“That’s an order, Sampson. I don’t want you anywhere near Halverson Foods or Olivia Bennett. Are we clear?”
Pete had undoubtedly lost his objectivity where Olivia was concerned, but he had no intention of staying away from her. This was a low profile case that wouldn’t ordinarily warrant such an order. He’d seen a photo of the sheriff with Jim Beggs, the General Manager of Halverson Foods’ Dogwood factory, in the paper just yesterday, taken at a fund-raising event for Linburgh’s campaign. “I understand,” he said.
Pete understood that the sheriff didn’t want trouble for Halverson Foods, not this close to an election. He’d lost some popularity last year after the office was accused of mishandling an underage drinking scandal at one of the local colleges. Recent polls showed the Democratic candidate, Dale Walker, gaining in popular opinion.
How deep did Linburgh’s loyalty run? Was he willing to look the other way where Halverson was concerned to keep their support? That didn’t sit well with Pete, not at all.
When he walked into the rec center at four fifteen, the boys had set up cones and were busy dribbling soccer balls in and out of the zig-zag configuration Pete had drawn for them. He watched them for a minute, unobserved. He made note of how Lonnie had a tendency to swing wide when he dribbled. Zach fell behind during dribbling but had a hell of a kick when it came time to put the ball in the goal.
“Coach Sampson!” Leroy waved, tripped, and sent his ball careening into the bleachers.
So the group wasn’t destined for soccer stardom, but they were good kids who needed a place to hang out in the afternoons to keep them on the straight and narrow. Most of them were kids from lower income families, with no parent at home when they got off the school bus. Pete was thankful the Dogwood Community Recreation Center was here to keep them busy.
“Watch this, Coach Sampson.” Zach kicked and scored a goal from a good twenty feet down the court.
“Not bad,” Pete said. “You boys have been busy. Let’s practice some interceptions before we break it out into a scrimmage.”
He put them through their paces and ran them through a practice game, ending at five thirty. He ought to go home. His neighbor’s teenager had walked Timber at lunchtime, but by now the dog would be hyper, lonely, and ready for some real exercise.
And for some reason, Pete had a hankering to stop by the café for supper on the way home. There was leftover lasagna and a cold six-pack of Yuengling in his fridge. So he had no excuse other than a burning need to see Olivia.
And that was good enough.
He showered, changed, and drove down Main Street. Olivia’s red Prius was in the lot behind the café. Other than a slightly dulled paint job on the driver’s door, no trace remained of the graffiti. It still bugged him that she’d parked around the corner last night, although she wasn’t wrong. The sheriff had ordered him to stay away from her, after all, but Pete had never consulted his boss on who he dated in the past, and he didn’t intend to start now. And if it cost him his shot at detective this year, he would accept that consequence with his dignity and conscience intact.
When he walked inside, he didn’t immediately see her so he asked the hostess to seat him in her section. The girl, a brunette, gave him an appraising look as she did so. Almost as if she didn’t approve of his being here, although he had no idea why.
He’d barely settled into his booth when Olivia came around the corner, menu in hand, eyes wide with surprise. “Pete?”
“I was hungry,” he said with a shrug.
Her left eyebrow lifted. “And a bit lonely perhaps?”
He decided to ignore that. “Last time I was here, I let my waitress con me into a vegetarian meal. Don’t suppose that’s common practice around here?”
She grinned. “I can’t say, but your last waitress sounds pretty awesome. We have a new special—a loaded omelet made with local cage-free eggs. It’s delicious.”
“You’ve had it?”
She nodded. “I had the kitchen make me a vegetarian version. I do eat eggs and dairy if I know they were humanely raised.”
“So would my waitress be offended if I ordered the nonvegetarian version?” Because a loaded omelet sounded pretty damn good.
“No she wouldn’t.”
“Great then. I’ll have that and a sweet tea.”
“I’ll be right back with your drink.” She sashayed off toward the back. He found himself watching the sway of her hips and the swing of her ponytail across her shoulders. Yep, he was pretty hung up on his waitress.
Still hoping there was a chance he’d have her in his bed tonight too.
She returned a minute later with his drink and a warm smile.
“I don’t suppose you had anything to do with the new local cage-free eggs?” he asked.
“I’ve been trying for years to get Tom—he’s the owner—to buy humane meat and dairy, but I finally figured out the right angle. I convinced him that supporting a local farm would be good for business. A lot of people are into that right now. He’s giving it a try. If it’s popular, he may agree to switch more of our products over. I’d love to see him create a niche with local, organic, and hum
ane products. He’s kind of stuck in his ways, but we’ll see.”
Pete shook his head, amused and impressed. “You are something.”
“Something more than a pain in the butt, I hope.” She winked, and then she was gone.
His omelet was perfection, bursting with cheese, spinach, mushrooms, ham, and pretty much everything delicious that could be put inside an omelet. He cleaned his plate and sat back, full and content. Maybe he’d stop by here more often.
“Pete Sampson?”
He looked up to find Tamara Hill standing at his booth, dressed in the café’s uniform of pink top and black pants, her black hair carefully styled. His food instantly congealed into a cement block in his belly.
“Yes,” he answered. She’d recognized him. She’d connected the dots and figured out his dad had killed her husband.
“Zach told me you’ve been coaching the boys on Tuesdays,” she said.
He nodded tightly. “That’s right.”
“He thinks highly of you, and that’s a lot from him. You know, his dad died a few years ago, and he’s—well he’s had some trouble handling everything.”
“Yeah, he mentioned that.” His stomach curdled.
Tamara flashed him a warm smile. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She didn’t know, and he’d never felt like a bigger fraud.
* * *
“You two know each other?” Olivia handed Pete his check, still secretly thrilled that he’d stopped by for supper—and to see her.
“I’m coaching her son at the rec center.”
“Oh. Cool.” A simple enough explanation, and yet, Pete looked anything but simple right now. He was pulsing with tension, his eyes dark and haunted. What was it about Tamara that had triggered this? Or had something else happened that she’d missed? A call from work perhaps?
“Well, I should go.” He slid some cash inside the bill holder and passed it back to her.
“Do you need change?”
“No.”
“Hey.” She put her hand on his shoulder before he could stand. “I was just thinking about the sunrise this morning. It was really beautiful. Maybe we can do that again sometime.”
His expression softened. “I’d like that.”
So would she, but that wasn’t why she’d brought it up. She hoped to subtly put the image in his head, in case he needed to visualize it later.
He slid out of the booth and went on his way, and Olivia returned to her shift. Things stayed busy during the dinner rush, gradually tapering off until the café closed at nine. She was fortunate not to have any stragglers in her section tonight, so she cleaned up and clocked out, walking to her car alongside Tamara.
“How’s Zach these days?” she asked. She’d known Tamara about three years; she’d started working here shortly after her husband was killed in a car accident. A former stay-at-home mom, Tamara had found herself suddenly thrust back into the workplace, struggling to make ends meet for herself and her son, while going to school nights to finish her bachelor’s degree.
“He’s been keeping himself out of trouble, mostly.” Tamara smiled. She exuded a kind of effortless style and presence that seemed suited to much bigger and better things than the Main Street Café. “He goes to the rec center most days after school.”
“That’s good. You should bring him in sometime soon. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him.”
“I’ll do that. Good night, Olivia.”
“Night.” Olivia waved. She slid into her Prius and drove home, exhausted. She took care of her animals and fell into bed, asleep before her head hit the pillow.
The next morning, after a flurry of text messages with Merry, she headed out to the farm to have breakfast with her friend. Dinner would have been more fun, but Olivia was working noon to nine again today.
“Perfect timing,” Merry said as she opened the front door. “I just put Jayden down for a nap. We should have a solid two hours.” She crossed her fingers.
“That’s all I have anyway before I have to get to work.” Olivia followed Merry into the kitchen, setting down a bag of fresh muffins from the café.
“Mmm, those look awesome. Help yourself to coffee or whatever you want to drink.” Merry set a couple of plates on the counter and sipped from her own coffee mug. “So I have two things to tell you, and then I want to hear all about the other night.”
“Okay.” Olivia poured herself a glass of water and put a strawberry muffin on her plate.
“First, I’ll take you up on babysitting on Friday night. T.J. and I haven’t had a date night in ages.”
Olivia nodded. “You got it.” She enjoyed babysitting, and she owed Merry big time for taking care of her dogs after working a twelve-hour shift.
“Thanks. So my other news is that I have an approved adopter interested in Scooby. They should be calling you later today.”
“Sweet! But are you sure they wouldn’t be interested in Bailey instead?”
Merry gave her a steely look over her chocolate chip muffin. “You’ve got to crack down on her with the potty training. And she needs to know some basic obedience.”
Olivia picked at her muffin. “You’re right. I’ll work with her, I promise.”
“Good. So,” Merry wiped a chocolate smudge from her mouth and settled back in her chair, “tell me all about Monday night, and please let it involve Deputy Hot Stuff.”
Olivia grinned. She’d missed having a girlfriend to gossip with since Cara moved. “Oh it most definitely involved him.”
“In sexy ways that had nothing to do with handcuffs?” She paused and seemed to consider this. “Unless you were using them for, um, recreational reasons.”
“No handcuffs. I spent the night at his place.”
“And?” Merry prompted.
“And it was amazing. He’s, well…” Olivia fanned herself. “You know.”
“I can imagine.” Merry winked. “And it’s not a problem for him that you were convicted?”
Her smile faded. “He says no, but I get the feeling it’s still not good for him to be associated with me, and he’s trying to make detective this year.”
“Then why would he get involved with you? He strikes me as a smart man.”
She set her half-eaten muffin down with a sigh. “Good question. He says he’s only looking for a casual relationship, so maybe this is too short-term to matter.”
“Oh, honey.” Merry rested her hand on Olivia’s.
“All this business with getting arrested has made me realize maybe I am ready to grow up after all. I’m ready for a more settled job, whenever I figure out what that is, and I’m ready for this—” She gestured around the kitchen. “A house, a husband, a family.”
Merry laughed. “I’m not married yet.”
“Oh please.” Olivia rolled her eyes.
Her friend sobered. “A few months ago, I wasn’t ready for any of this stuff either. It took T.J. practically hitting me over the head with it to realize we were meant to be together. So you’re already ahead of me in knowing what you want. Are you sure Pete isn’t that person?”
“He’s divorced, and he doesn’t want to get married again.”
“Well I give him props for being up front about it at least. So will you see him again?”
Olivia felt a tug deep in her chest. “Probably. The fire definitely hasn’t burned out yet. And it’s not as if I’m a stranger to casual relationships, so I’ll enjoy this while it lasts. Maybe it’ll be my last hurrah before I settle down.”
“Atta girl. Maybe I can find you a cute doctor at the hospital.”
“Oh yeah?”
Merry tapped her finger against her lips. “There is a really hot surgeon. I’m pretty sure he’s single.”
Olivia shrugged. “Doctors seem kind of stuffy to me, like lawyers. I need someone who’ll go camping with me and meditate.”
“Does Deputy Hot Stuff meditate?” Merry asked.
“It just so happens
I’ve taught him a few things.”
Merry’s eyes rounded. “Really?”
“His job can be stressful so I took him out to Jordan Lake and introduced him to meditation.”
“Wow. That sounds…intimate.”
“It was.” Olivia remembered just what it had led to, and her cheeks heated. But she knew what Merry meant: it was intimate on another level. And Pete had already warned her not to go there, not with him.
* * *
Two hours later, Olivia walked into the café, ready for her shift. She found Tom waiting in the back hall.
“I need to talk to you.” He motioned her into his office at the end of the hall.
Uh-oh.
A heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as he closed the door behind her.
He looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “I’m very sorry, Olivia, but I’m going to have to let you go.”
“Oh no.” Her face felt hot, then cold. Fired. “What—why?”
“There have been complaints.”
Complaints? About her? Her heart thudded against her ribs until she felt sick. “I’m sorry.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “So am I. You’ve been a hell of a waitress.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll walk you out.” He opened the door and escorted her down the hall and into the parking lot.
Olivia walked ahead of him, numb. Her job, her friends at the café…
Gone. Done. Blinking back tears, she got into her car and pointed it toward MacArthur Park.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Pete walked up Olivia’s front steps promptly at six thirty Thursday evening. A break-in at the card store had held him up at work, but he’d had just enough time to go home and get ready to take her to dinner. On time. He’d been late to plenty of dates—a fact that was sometimes overlooked due to his profession—but tonight would not be one of them.
He was ridiculously glad about that. And ridiculously thrilled to be taking her out to dinner. In fact, he’d changed into khaki pants and a green button-down shirt, which was about as dressed up as he ever got. He’d even picked up a bouquet of wildflowers for her from the flower shop. Yesterday he’d worked overtime, so he hadn’t seen her since Tuesday, and right now that felt like an eternity.
