by C J Marie
Rafe huffed. “Mama, you’re not a burden. Trust me, I’m going to make you clean to earn your keep.”
“I’ll smack his mouth for you later, Millie,” Olive teased. “Don’t you think those things, though. You did everything for Auggie and Rafe, even me. You could never be a burden.”
His mom smiled and patted her hand. “I’m leaps and bounds above what I was at first, but I still feel weak sometimes. You’ve got to promise me, Rafe, you won’t spend all your time thinking you need to babysit me. I can manage just fine without anyone. There are a lot of people who only have one hand. Doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself, you understand?”
Rafe slipped out of the truck and tilted his head. “Yes, ma’am. Now, can we go on inside? I’ve got food waiting.”
“Come on, Millie. Wait until you see everything Rafe’s done to the place—and your room. I might have added a few womanly touches.”
“Thank the Lord above,” Millie sighed.
Now that his mom was out of rehab and in his home, Rafe wondered what he’d been so worried about in the first place. Clear as a summer morning, Olive was the difference. She’d eased the burden, first by agreeing to this charade even if he felt bad taking the money. Next, she’d brought half her apartment over to decorate Millie’s bedroom and bathroom. Even the vase of snail shells made it to the refurbished dresser Rafe had painted weeks prior. More than anything, Olive loved Millie Whitfield like family. Without fail, Olive had shown up on Sundays to visit at the center. She’d been with him on the night of the stroke and hadn’t even batted an eyelash when Dalia had shown up telling Olive to leave. Olive had been the one to gather information from the doctors while Rafe was in a haze talking to August and Lily.
Even still, she was the sounding board as she stood by his mother’s side as they drifted through the house. Olive chittered on about the bathroom, showing her the added grab bars, the shower chair, the accessible toiletries to her left side.
Rafe leaned behind Olive in the doorway of the bedroom his mom would use. His arm hugged her shoulders and pulled her body against his chest. Millie was ogling the white drapes, the blue and yellow quilt Olive insisted on buying. She had everything within reach of her left hand. A tote storing exercise bands, tacky weighted putty, and light dumbbells, the therapist suggested from a medical supply store was tucked neatly against the wall. Olive brought some of her paintings of Angel Oak and Rainbow Row, Millie’s favorite places, and had them hanging above the headboard.
Olive’s hands curled around his forearm as his mom sat on the edge of the bed, taking it all in. The room was larger than the small space she’d slept in while they lived at the Big House, and he hoped it was comfortable enough she wouldn’t rush to find her own place before she was ready.
Olive sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. Rafe caressed the side of her cheek with his lips when Millie inspected the closet. “You’ve made this better than I could have ever done on my own, princess.”
Olive grinned and whispered. “She deserves it, Rafe. She’s like a mama to me too.”
Rafe swallowed the knot in his throat at the words. The scent of her sweet skin leaning against his, every brush of her fingertips along his forearm sparked a spinning euphoria encompassing his body. The raging blaze burst through the frustration of Beau, the concern of the Cutlers’ reaction, even the fact that to Millie they were engaged. The rush of blood to his head wiped the slate of inhibitions clean. Rafe nuzzled his face in the nape of her neck, pressed kisses along her smooth skin, and cleared the catch in his voice.
“I love you, Olive.”
Olive gasped, her fingers halting on his skin as she slowly faced him. The glaze in her gilded eyes brightened the color until it seemed she was filled with a fiery sunrise. Olive cupped one side of his face and pressed a fervent kiss to his lips. Rafe was trapped beneath her spell, and he was certain he’d bend to every whim. If someone offered him a door to escape, Rafe would slam it back in their face.
Her glossy lips spread into a sensual smile when she pulled away. “I love you too.”
Rafe kissed her again, and he couldn’t be sure since her back was turned away, but he thought he caught his mother glancing over her shoulder—grinning from ear to ear as much as she could.
***
Millie yawned, one side of her mouth lagging behind, but her eyes were still bright and youthful. “I think I’m going to head to bed. It’s been a busy day. Sounds like tomorrow will be busy enough for you two.”
“I still don’t feel good leaving you,” Rafe muttered. Neither did Olive. Tomorrow was a dinner party, the last event before the bridal shower next week.
“This is what I was talking about, son,” Millie warned. “You’re not going to sit here watching me all night. I still have my mind, I can still move around, I’m fine. I raised your rowdy behind didn’t I?”
Rafe laughed, his hand coming to rest on the inside of Olive’s thigh. She wondered if his touch would always ignite an explosion inside her heart. “Yes, you did.”
“Alright, then. You’ll take your girl out tomorrow night. And you,” she turned to Olive. “I know you’re the same. No skipping out early. I know how to use a phone if I need you.”
“You’re stubborn, Millie.”
“That I am, sweetie pie. Now, goodnight. I love y’all.”
Rafe watched Millie limp down the hallway before leaning his head back against his couch, the day seeming to crush across his body all at once. Olive kissed the back of his hand and smiled impishly. “I should probably get going.”
Rafe rolled his head to the side, cocking one brow. Slowly, he curled his arm around her waist, tugging her onto his lap. Olive grinned, her palms trapping his face as she straddled his hips. He shook his head. “There’s no way you’re going anywhere.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
Cupping a hand behind her neck, Rafe commanded her mouth onto his until Olive relented and melted into his body. Rafe groaned when she nipped his bottom lip, her palms traveling across his chest. “You are definitely staying now.”
Olive curled against Rafe’s strong body. Pearly light brightened the shadows in the room as the moon rose to the fullest point in the velvet sky. She traced his chest, loving the way his skin warmed her hand like a comforting hearth. Rafe’s arm tugged around her shoulders, until Olive rolled across the length of him. She grinned, when he brushed her hair out of her face.
“I thought you were sleeping,” she whispered.
One half of his mouth tugged into a confident smirk. “Sometimes I don’t sleep when you’re next to me, I’m too afraid I’ll wake up and it will be a dream.”
She smacked his chest gently. “What movie was that line from?”
“I’m offended, that was from my own head,” he teased. “Was it good, not too forced?”
“You’re a regular cheese ball, Rafe.”
He kissed her forehead as he relaxed against the pillows. “What’s on your mind?”
She smiled, her fingertips running over the fullness of his mouth. Her heart was beautifully parted into a thousand pieces since loving Rafe, and each sliver belonged to him. How could she put such excitement, passion, need, into words? “I keep thinking of what we said earlier.”
That brought a smile to his lips. “Yeah? What about it?”
She hid her face against his broad chest, reveling in Rafe’s fingers tangling in her hair. “I meant it, and I can’t get enough of the feeling.”
Rafe nudged her chin up so their eyes met. “You seem surprised that you meant it.”
She flushed, embarrassment of her past choices filling her cheeks. “I’ve said it before—to others, but I’m afraid I wasn’t truthful. You know I never loved Tom. I’m not surprised I love you, but I’ve never experienced real love, I guess. Somehow I always knew it would be you, though. You were always different and made my heart start on fire since we were teenagers.”
He chuckled and wrapped his arms tighter
around her waist. “Olive, you’ve always been the one who had my heart. I might have fought it, but I’ve never felt this—with anyone. I don’t see how I could ever love anyone else. You’re it for me, princess.” His brow furrowed as he glanced down. “I think you should know, Beau showed up here today.”
Olive propped herself onto her elbow, her throat sticky and tight. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“We were too busy getting Mama. It’s starting, Ollie.”
“What did he say? I’m going to slap him into next week.”
He chuckled, threading her fingers with his. “I handled it. He caught us kissing when we went to see your parents. He basically warned me to stay away. Typical Beau.”
Olive traced his knuckles, her chin quivering. “I know it worries you, but I need you to know, what Beau thinks doesn’t matter to me, Rafe. Don’t let it get under your skin, please. Believe me, not him. I love you—he’s an arrogant jerk.”
She breathed him in entirely when he kissed her softly. The sound of their lips together roared her nervous system to life even in the early morning hours. “It’s not Beau I’m worried about finding out.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I’ll tell them, Rafe. Just give me time. I’m not ashamed, but give me time.”
Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to the center of her head and held her tighter against his body. He said nothing, and Olive had to swallow the harsh knot in the back of her throat. Tomorrow. She would confess the truth to her parents. She had to hope they would want her to be happy. Rafe was a decent, honest man. She was happy. Olive’s eyes stung in tears the longer she thought on the man holding her close. No one caused her to feel weak in the knees and strong all at once. It would be enough for the Cutlers. It had to be enough.
Chapter 15
Rafe adjusted his tie in the mirror. Since becoming Olive’s fake fiancé he’d worn a suit more times in the last three weeks than in his entire life.
“You look handsome. You should make it a habit of spiffing up so nice.”
Rafe smiled at his mother through the mirror. She was sitting at the kitchen table sipping hot tea even if outside it was nearing eighty degrees with a wall of humidity that felt like stepping into a swimming pool. “You’re required to say that.”
Millie laughed, shaking her head. “No, you know I’d never beat around the bush with you boys, I’d tell you if you needed to change your look. I enjoy seeing you like this, Rafe. Not all pressed, but you.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, forgoing the jacket tonight. It was too bleeding hot.
Millie tilted her head and Rafe knew where he got his smirk from. Her curls were gathered in a low ponytail, and she even had a gloss on her lips and color on her eyes. Maybe Rafe worried more than he should have. His mother was more capable than he’d given her credit. “Sweetie, I see a new light in your face. I think having Ollie has been a good thing. You’re happy, right?”
Rafe flushed. August and Rafe were open with their mother. She’d always been one to listen before judging or giving her say. When August told Millie he was going to propose to Lily when he was only eighteen, his mama congratulated him and listed things that he needed to think about before taking on the role of a husband. She hadn’t tried to convince him he was too young, and she’d supported them every step of the way. One of the few times, Millie had spouted off was when she found out the real reason Rafe and Dalia had broken up—thanks to August’s big mouth. It was humorous now thinking of his mom, weeks after she’d had a stroke, muttering under her breath prayers of gratitude Rafe had ended it with the woman.
“I’m waiting for an answer,” she chuckled when he fiddled too long with the tea bag string.
Rafe met her eye and nodded. “I love her, mama.”
Millie winked over the edge of her cup. “I would hope so since you’re going to marry the girl.”
Rafe should have felt a pang of guilt, but inside he wanted Olive Cutler—someday he planned to make sure she would always be his, so in his eyes his mother’s statement wasn’t a lie. “Ollie’s always been in my life,” he continued. “But now, it’s as if things are the same—we’re still friends—but she makes my head spin in a good way, you know.”
Millie ginned and nodded. “I reckon you’ve had the same effect on Olive for a long time now. We talked about you a few weeks ago.”
“She did? What did you two say?”
“I knew then that Ollie was head over heels for you, but I think she has some worries too.”
Rafe’s heart sunk when he looked down at the table. “I know she worries about pleasing her family—it isn’t easy sometimes—”
“That’s not what has her worried, Rafe.” He locked eyes with his mom across the table. Millie was easily fatigued, but she still found the energy to shoot him a look that told him to listen up. “Ollie worries about you. Did you know she mentioned she thinks eventually you won’t want her because of where she comes from? So, you tell me you love her, but are you happy?”
Rafe couldn’t find his words for at least twenty breaths. “Yes, mama. I’m happy—more than I thought I could be.”
Millie beamed. “Then I hope you won’t let any noise come between you two.”
“The only thing that would get me to walk away is if Olive asked me to,” he assured.
“That’s good,” she grinned, patting his scruffy cheek. “If you’re fortunate, you’ll have a few loves in your life—if you’re blessed you’ll find the love of your life. I’d like to think both my boys have been blessed to find that.”
Rafe kissed Millie’s cheek and rose from his seat. “The woman might not think of me so fondly if I show up late.”
“Go on, then,” Millie teased.
Rafe sighed, sliding his keys from a bowl on the counter. “Mama—”
“Son, I’ll be fine. I love how much you care, but I’ll be fine. Have a great time tonight.”
He tapped the largest key against his palm, before clicking his tongue and nodding. “Alright, you win. You know where the TV remote is and all that?”
“And I can use the toilet paper, and I even know how to get in my pajamas too.”
Rafe pointed a finger at his mother, laughing. “You, woman, should never wonder where we get our sarcasm.”
Millie blew a kiss and waved as Rafe slipped out the side door. Tonight wasn’t for Rafe and Olive exactly. Dot’s parents purchased a brand new urgent clinic designed to treat low-income families, or those who lost insurance. Though the Cutlers had explained the dinner was thoughtful of the Gardeners to include the engagement, it was really to showcase their generosity with the clinic. Rafe knew Dot from growing up with Olive, but her parents didn’t know him, so unless Dorothy-Ann had mentioned something, the Gardeners would think he was the wealthy fiancé. But as he drove toward Olive’s apartment, he found he didn’t care if anyone knew who he was either way. He only cared about pleasing the woman with honey eyes and a heart of gold.
***
Olive flicked her brow and intentionally bit her bottom lip when Rafe met her eye in her doorway. By the flash of desire in his expression she suspected he was having similarly indecent thoughts. “Ollie,” he breathed, slinging one arm around her waist, his eyes practically unzipping her dress with one sweep. “Have I told you I think you’re beautiful?”
Rafe didn’t let her respond before he had her pressed against the wall, his mouth exploring hers. She closed her eyes when Rafe kissed her neck, her fingers tangled slowly in his hair. “You keep kissing me like that, you don’t need to say it at all.”
“I think we should skip dinner,” he grinned.
“No, sir. I got an explicit text message from Dot that I needed to show up tonight.”
She straightened her gilded dress, with Rafe still stroking his fingers in her hair. “Fine, you win Ol, but I’m going to cause a stir when I can’t keep my hands off you.”
Olive kissed his jaw, and the corner of his mouth, taunting her fingertips around the collar of
his shirt. “I hope you do.”
Rafe closed his eyes, groaning in the back of his throat before clasping her hand tightly and tugging her into the hallway. “Come on, princess. We need to go now, or I’ll never let us leave.”
Olive admired the brilliant lights shining across the restaurant. Crystal chandeliers lined the domed ceiling and original wood flooring offered a woodsy scent mingled with the savory aromas. Vintage, colonial windows and shutters added to the atmosphere as the table lined with unfamiliar faces apart from her parents, Beau and her aunt and uncle. Olive glared at Beau when his gaze drifted down the table. She leaned into Rafe, slipping her hand over his on top of the table. Beau shifted in his chair, his lip curling slightly. Rafe caught on, his eyes offering her a warning. Olive was beyond caring and leaned closer, to whisper in his ear.
“I think if I keep this up, or if your hand happened to rest on my leg, Beau might flip his lid.”
Rafe grinned. “Do you want him to flip? Beau might not be the enemy we want.”
Olive shrugged and pressed a soft kiss to Rafe’s cheek. Yes, her mother saw, and no, her wide-eyed expression didn’t stop Olive from leaning her head on Rafe’s shoulder. “It’s no one’s problem but his.”
Rafe took a long drink before his hand eventually dropped to her thigh, his thumb caressing her leg until her skin tingled. Beau’s hand was curled in a tight fist, and he was undeniably seething a twisted anger in their direction. Enough that Olive wondered if she was playing with fire. Beau was family, but it was entirely possible he could take his prejudices deeper than even she could conjure in her mind. For the first time since playing her teasing game tonight, she wondered if Beau might do something hurtful to Rafe. Olive drew in a tight breath and sat straighter. There was Millie to think of too.
“Have you seen, Dot?” Olive asked halfway through the smoked salmon.
