by C J Marie
Rafe paused again, tipping her chin, so she looked him in the eye. “You’re good how you are, Ol. Don’t change.”
Rafe wanted to kiss her when her lips parted—the want was borderline desperate—but like a coward, he didn’t. Instead, Rafe tugged Olive against his chest, resting his chin on top of her head. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her fingers clasped behind his back, and her face buried against his heart. Rafe held her close until the last fiery ribbons of sun faded over the horizon.
He was leaning over a dangerous ledge, he was preparing to fall. Rafe wasn’t sure he cared.
7 years ago
“Beau, you stop that right now!” Olive cried, tugging her cousin’s arm to keep him from tossing a homeless man’s lunch into the center of the street.
Beau narrowed his gaze and rolled his eyes, before dropping the brown paper sack off to one side. “You’re such a prude, Ollie. We’re doing our part cleaning up the garbage off the streets.”
Tom, Beau, and their third-wheel, Nick cackled as Beau strolled up to Eloise Tinley; and slung his arm around her shoulders. She nestled against his neck, giggling stupidly. Olive wished she could say Dot was behaving any better, but her best-friend was eyeing Nick with sultry hunger. Ever since Dot spilled the beans her family was moving to North Carolina, Dorothy-Ann seemed to make it her life’s pursuit to love on as many Honeyville boys as possible.
“You’re cruel sometimes, Beau. There’s simply no other way to put it,” Olive insisted, stomping her foot slightly before storming to the head of the group. “If that makes me a prude, then a prude I’ll be.”
“Come on, Olive,” Eloise crooned, nipping at Beau’s ear. “The guys were having a lick of fun, that’s all.”
Olive rolled her eyes, but accepted when Dot linked elbows and stroked her hair. “Let it go, Ollie. Now, let’s go see this movie. I’ve been waiting all night to get into a dark theater with, Nick.”
“Hey, Beau,” Tom bellowed, pointing at the entrance of the movie theater. “Speaking of trash, look who’s coming our way.”
Olive’s throat tightened when Rafe, August, Lily, Zachariah, and a pair of girls she didn’t know slipped onto the walk. All of them laughing and minding their own business.
Beau sneered wickedly. “Hey, Whitfield!” Both August and Rafe flipped their heads. August’s dark eyes narrowed, and he tapped Rafe’s arm. Rafe’s eyes weren’t trained on Beau—those sky blues locked on Olive who’d darted to her cousin’s side. Beau earned himself a swift punch to the arm, Tom earned one right behind.
“You two knock it off.”
“Yeah, we want to see a movie,” Dot argued, pouting her bottom lip. “You fools are looking for trouble tonight.”
“We’re not seeing a movie when the likes of them are around,” Tom chuckled, earning an approving nod from Beau.
Olive dared meet Rafe’s eye from down the walk. He was clutching the keys to the old truck he’d purchased proudly last year. August, standing an inch taller, tried harder to distract Rafe, before flinging his hands in the air in surrender, and clutching Lily’s hand. Lily was as sweet as candied apples, but even her eyes were filled with resentment. Zac urged the others to take a back seat to the possible confrontation.
“Rafe, don’t,” Zac called, but like August, ended up stepping back.
Olive tilted her face, offering Lily and August an apologetic glance before shaking her head at Rafe.
Don’t do anything. She pleaded inwardly.
Rafe must have had a direct line to her thoughts because with a scowl, he started to turn away.
“That’s right, walk away, son,” Beau called out. Olive covered her face, cursing the wilted branches in her family tree for a moment. “Scurry on back to the whorehouse you came from.”
Olive’s stomach flipped a loop when Rafe wheeled around.
“Rafe, stop. He’s not worth it. Fine, get suspended again,” August said before he practically dragged his girl toward the truck.
The situation was at critical mass; Olive either acted, or there would be blood. Without a second thought, she rushed toward Rafe and August. “Wait for me,” she called out to Lily and August specifically, but it caught Rafe’s attention. “I’m coming with y’all.”
“Olive,” Beau roared. “Get on back here.”
“Nah,” she said, walking backward past Rafe who ogled her for a moment before smirking away the dangerous scowl on his face. “I’m going to the whorehouse, sounds more exciting.”
“Oh, girl, you give me some stories later,” Dot crowed, jumping onto Nick’s back so he cupped the bottom of her thighs.
“Olive, I’ll tell Uncle Lon you left with them,” Beau threatened.
“Go ahead. You think Daddy will be surprised?” She shrugged, linking arms with Lily who couldn’t seem to contain her grin. “Hey, you coming or would you rather bloody those knuckles again?” She winked at Rafe.
“Whitfield,” Beau snapped, stalking after them, but stopped ten feet back. Even Tom seemed ready to curl inside out as Olive joined the boisterous group of the Whitfield friends. “You don’t take my cousin anywhere.”
Rafe glanced at Olive once more. She grinned before releasing Lily’s arm and linked with Rafe. He chuckled and whispered, “Bold, princess.”
“Bye, Beau. Call you later, Dot!” Olive waved over her shoulder.
“Alright, Lolli-pop.” August pounded his fist with Olive’s. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that Beau stunned stupid. No offense,” he offered quickly.
“None taken,” Olive insisted, scanning the entire group. Several others were laughing again, scrambling into the backseat. Although one of the girls eyed Olive with suspicion. “So, where are we going?”
“To the beach,” Rafe said, opening the door to the run-down truck. He held her hand as she climbed onto the bench. His expression was deeper, more knowing, than Olive had seen before. She liked it. Rafe closed the door and worked his way to the driver’s side. “It will be a tight squeeze with all of us.”
“I can handle it, Rafe,” she breathed. He smiled, and nestled in next to her behind the wheel. It was the first time in all of Olive’s memories that the touch of Rafe’s leg next to hers sent a rush of nerves boiling through her brain.
Chapter 8
Heavy silence filled the line. Rafe drummed his fingers on his kitchen table. “You still there?” he asked, when it became too much to bear.
“I’m here,” August’s voice rumbled. His brother sounded tired, but he supposed that came with parenthood. “I’m not positive I heard you right. Did you say you’re fixin’ to marry Ollie? Because last I heard, she’d lost her brain and was marrying Tom Abernathy.”
“What is it with you and Mama? I told you, it’s only through the bridal shower in a few weeks, idiot.”
“Oh, right. I must have blacked-out that insane part where you’re taking money to pretend to be Olive’s fiancé!”
“It’s fifteen hundred dollars each appearance, Aug.”
His brother fell quiet again. A silent minute passed before August spoke. “Fifteen hundred dollars?”
“For five appearances. You do the math.” Rafe massaged the bridge of his nose. “We need this, man. Mama needs this.”
“Rafe, you said Mama thinks this is legitimate. She’ll be crushed.”
“I know. Don’t guilt me, I got enough of that from Ollie.”
“At least she has some sense. How did you ever convince Ollie to go along with this?”
“You know Bernadette, she’s persuasive.” August laughed knowing exactly what Rafe meant. Leaning back in his chair, Rafe sighed. “Turns out, Olive cares about our mom about as much as you and me. She’s doing it for her.”
August grumbled under his breath for a few minutes. “Fine, Rafe. I get it and I can’t disagree this is good financially, but I still think you’re playing with fire.”
Rafe knew he’d say that. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. You and Ollie have always been
closer than anyone. Don’t be an idiot and do something stupid to mess with her.”
“I won’t. First, Zac, now you.”
“We need to keep you in check, or you’d be running around like a chicken with its head cut off. And that’s on your best day.”
“How’s my niece?”
“Obvious subject change. Uh, she’s sleeping… finally. Seriously, man I’m exhausted, but half the reason is that I can’t stop looking at her. Lil and I just sit up rocking with her some nights.”
“You’re coming out right? I’d like to meet her someday.”
August laughed. “We’ll do our best, it might be after Lily’s finals. Last semester and one of her toughest, but I need to see Mama and do something to help out.”
“August, I’ve got it under control. Just help Lily finish school and don’t fall asleep standing up. I know you’d be here if you could. Now, you can stop worrying over the money. I’ve already ordered the grab bars and bathroom equipment for when she comes to live here.”
“Alright.” Rafe heard the tiny cries of an infant in the background. “Well, naptime is over I guess. Seriously, Rafe—be careful with Olive.”
“I’m not going to hurt her or anything.”
“I never said she was the only one I was worried about getting hurt. Talk to you later, okay.”
“Yeah. Bye, Aug.”
No one was going to get hurt. Rafe didn’t agree with August on that point—he couldn’t agree with him. No one would get hurt because there weren’t deeper feelings involved, despite the tumbling in his gut. The feeling couldn’t continue to exist or August would be sound on the potential heartbreak.
Rafe drifted toward his bedroom, scanning his closet and trying to select his nicest button-down shirt. He still had the dark blue shirt and gray suit from August and Lily’s wedding. That would work, but the matching tie was lost in his move. Standing bare chested, the shirt and coat draped over his arm, he stared at his options hanging on the hook in his closet. Rafe was terrible at dressing himself for fancy affairs. Good thing he rarely had a reason to polish his rough edges; it raised his blood pressure.
“Rafe?” Olive’s voice called out from the kitchen. He’d been so focused on his matching tie conundrum he hadn’t heard her drive up.
“In the bedroom,” he answered, dropping his shirt and coat on his bed, and holding up two different ties.
“You decent?” she chuckled, her attention down on her cell phone before she lifted her gaze and startled back. Her eyes widened, and Rafe found it entertaining how Olive averted her gaze as if he were standing buck naked.
He laughed. “What’s with you? Not like you haven’t seen me without a shirt. How many times have we been swimming?”
Olive straightened her shoulders, swallowed with effort, and stepped into his room. “I was surprised for a moment, that’s all.”
Now it was Rafe’s turn to find it hard to focus on anything but Olive Cutler. She pulled off the term little, black dress with a perfected class. The gathered fabric hugged her curves, making it difficult not to reach out and rest his hand on her hips. Olive wasn’t tall, nor short, but the black stilettos added a length to her velvety legs that seemed to tempt a more carnal piece of his mind.
“You look good,” he mumbled.
She scanned her figure. “Good? That’s all I get? Took me two hours to get these curls to stay in this weather,” she laughed, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulders. The muggy air wasn’t the reason Rafe’s forehead was damp.
“Pardon me,” Rafe added. “Your sexiness has taken my breath away, Miss Cutler.” He tried to keep his voice light, and it seemed to work when Olive grinned, but inside his lungs were struggling to gain breath.
“What’s the hold up? You want to risk being late?”
He shook his head displaying the two ties. “What matches best? I can’t decide.”
Olive stepped closer so their bare arms brushed. It was only his imagination when Olive sucked in a breath of air. She wasn’t the maniac blurring the lines guiding their friendly relationship, he was. Olive took the ties, holding them against the shirt, before shaking her head and turning back to his closet. She took out a solid, royal blue tie and returned Rafe’s two choices.
“This one,” she said, brushing the scruff on his chin. “I like this look, rugged and dashing, Mr. Whitfield.”
Rafe cocked one brow. “Who knew being lazy and skipping a shave would be dashing.”
Olive grinned, staying put when Rafe started tugging his shirt over his arms. She stopped at the wooden dresser against his wall, smiling at an old photo taken on the beach five years earlier. The huddled group laughing on the sand had been one of his favorite memories of Olive. She chuckled, holding up the picture. “Zac is licking my ear.” Rafe glanced closer, slipping the coat over his arms and nodding. Seventeen-year-old Zac was poking his tongue out against Olive’s head. “But this is the same night Lily agreed with August that she would marry him. I think he even used a piece of seaweed as a temporary ring. Now they’re parents.”
Rafe scoffed knotting the tie at the base of his neck. “It was a good night. You and Lil were the only girls who got in the water.”
“I remember your one friend, I still maintain she liked you, about dropped her jaw when we dove in clothes and all. She actually asked if I’d ruined a designer shirt. The girl could hardly believe I bought it at Target, like I came from a different planet.”
Rafe shook his head, taking the picture. “Not a different planet, Ol. Just a different place.”
Olive’s face fell and Rafe wanted to take the words back, but she quickly brushed it off with a sad grin. “Beau tried to get me in trouble for leaving them. He should’ve gone to Mama, not Daddy. I thought Beau’s face was going to boil off when I came home and he was standing there with Daddy. Beau probably thought I’d get smacked or something, but all that was asked was if I’d behaved and had a good time.”
Rafe grinned. “Leave it to Mr. Cutler to put your cousin in his place without raising a hand of discipline.”
Olive nodded, touching the picture once more before facing him. “You ready?”
Rafe held out his arms, enjoying the way her eyes soaked him up. “Final approval goes to you.”
Olive smirked, patting the lapels of his suit. “I approve.”
Rafe winked and slid one hand down the intoxicating curve of her spine. He laughed when Olive shrieked as he swatted her rear. Olive’s cheeks flushed, but he held up a hand. “Butt privileges, princess.”
She glared, but accepted his hand as he led her out of his room, toward the front door. “You’re a snake, Rafe.”
“No, I know how to negotiate the rules in my favor.”
“You keep your hands under control, or you’ll deal with my father, sir. I’m driving.”
Rafe nodded, slipping into the passenger seat of her silver BMW. “I don’t think Mr. Cutler will mind if it’s coming from me.”
Olive scoffed. “I think you overestimate his affection for you.”
“Not a chance, Ol.”
“Oh, I have a surprise for you,” Olive twittered once they pulled onto the lane toward the Big House. “Since you handled the lion’s den with such poise last time, I figured you shouldn’t be alone again. I invited Zac. Of course, he was able to round up a date.”
Rafe’s eyes widened when he caught sight of the lone blue truck in the driveway. “Bernadette let that slide?”
“Oh, I just went to Daddy.”
“But Zac and I work together. He won’t say he’s anything other than what he is, you know that.”
“I know. Zac understands, so he’s here as a friend. You don’t need to bring up he’s your boss.”
“Don’t say he’s my boss in front of him. It makes his head too big.” He glanced at her, when they parked near the garage. “Thanks, Ol. I didn’t think it would matter, but I feel better actually.”
Olive nodded. Rafe buttoned his coat and threaded his fingers with h
ers. His thumb brushed over the ring on her finger. This wasn’t real, but there was a part of him that wanted to fall into the fantasy and completely forget reality. When Olive looked at him with those melting eyes, with that smile, the fantasy line was fading and his heart was beating a new reality with every pulse. If Rafe wasn’t so stubborn, he would freely admit he was falling for Olive—he’d been falling for a long time—but stubbornness was fickle and shoved such thoughts away before they could take root.
***
Olive covered her mouth with the cloth napkin. She couldn’t keep the snorty-laugh in any longer, as Sawyer went on about the great-grandmother horror story. “I’m not joking,” he chuckled. Dot came apart, laughing on his shoulder. “She hands me the glass of whiskey, teeth bobbing at the bottom. She just looks at me and says, ‘Whatcha looking at, boy? Pop ‘em back in’.”
Rafe laughed, leaning back at the table, and draping his arm around the back of Olive’s chair as if it was simply what they did now. Zac and Krista, a girl from town who’d brought her car to the shop two days earlier, sat on the other side. If Olive didn’t know them before, she’d never guess by the way Rafe and Zac sat all polished in suits, they’d been elbow deep in engine grease earlier that day.
Her mother shot a look from the opposite end of the table when Olive laughed too loudly. Bernadette Cutler hadn’t been overly pleased that Olive had extended the invitation to Dot, Zac, and their plus-ones. It wasn’t so much they were here, more that Olive had ruffled the plans her mother had already set in place, and four new settings had to be added last minute. They’d all survived, so Olive could do with fewer disapproving glances. If her mother’s sharp eyes caused unease, they were nothing to the murderous exchanges Beau kept attempting from his seat five places away. Olive didn’t care for the woman on her cousin’s arm and couldn’t remember her name. The primped blonde kept her nose turned up the entire evening. She even dared complain about not having sugar free pie—girl, please.
Olive didn’t trust the way Beau was whispering in his date’s ear. His eyes were locked in their direction, and the woman giggled. Sure enough, a few moments later Miss Sugar Free turned in her chair, and smiled so her vibrant lips revealed big teeth. “Olive, Beau tells me you plan to be a public school teacher.”
