It was fine.
She wasn’t a fool.
One night of sex didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean he wanted to share his life with her the way it had felt they’d been sharing themselves since they’d arrived here yesterday.
Her cheeks burned as she remembered how vulnerable she’d made herself, all the utterly naked things she’d said in his arms less than an hour ago.
No wonder he’d pulled away afterward.
Any guy would have.
Girls weren’t supposed to go all in like that the first time they had sex with a guy.
Mortified and still more crushed than she’d ever admit to a living soul, she walked into the kitchen to get out the milk, cereal, juice, and two bowls. The milk was just fine. It didn’t feel any warmer than it normally would have been, and it smelled fresh.
After a minute, Scott came to join her, and they ate a quiet breakfast on the stools at the small kitchen island.
She caught him eyeing her a couple of times, but he didn’t let his gaze linger. Neither did she.
He finished his cereal, put his spoon down, and said, “Olivia.”
Her gaze jumped to his strained face. The dark stubble on his jaw made him look sexy, almost dangerous, and the unmistakable Matheson eyes were deep and striking. She waited for him to continue.
“I’m sorry.”
It hurt. So much she had to hide a wince from the pain in her heart. “You don’t have to be sorry,” she said with as bright a smile as she could manage. “I get it. I really do.”
His brows drew together. “You do?”
“Yeah. Last night was great. Like I said before, both of us needed it. But you’re not worried I’m thinking it’s more than that, are you? Because you and me together—outside this cottage—it just doesn’t make any sense, does it? So if you’re worried I’m wanting more than last night, then you really don’t have to. I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t. I promise.”
He stared at her fixedly. For far too long. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes. Okay. We’re... good then.”
“Yes. We’re good. So we can stop being weird with each other and get back to normal.” She didn’t feel normal. She felt like her face might crack from the attempt to keep her expression in place. But she was doing this, and it was going to be convincing.
Scott was never going to know how stupid she’d been with him.
No one was ever going to know.
“Okay. Back to normal then.” He cleared his throat and stood up. He looked out through the big window at the front of the cottage and then back to her.
His face contorted strangely for a moment before the expression was gone.
“Scott?” she asked, confused by what she’d seen in his face.
He opened his mouth to say something, but just then there was a popping sound and all the lights came on. The heat pump kicked on, and the refrigerator started to buzz.
“Well, that’s good,” she said, hardly recognizing the room around her after seeing everything with nothing but firelight for so long.
“Yeah.” He stretched his arms one by one and looked outside. “I’m going to shovel out the front walk so we can get outside.”
“Okay. Good idea. There’s a shovel in the storage room.”
He put on his sweater, coat, socks, and shoes and then went outside. Olivia stood where she was and watched him through the window for a while, feeling heavy. Kind of sick.
When she heard a phone ringing in the room, it took a minute to figure out what the sound even was. It had felt for so long like she and Scott were alone in the world, but they weren’t.
They weren’t.
She found her phone and answered it when she saw it was her sister Rebecca.
“Hey, are you all right?” Rebecca asked when Olivia greeted her.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Ready for this ordeal to be over.”
“Was it terrible?”
“N-no. It wasn’t terrible. How are you and Phil?”
“We’re fine. We made it to Richmond before the snow. Are you sure you’re okay, Olivia? You sound upset.”
“I do not sound upset.”
“Please. We shared a room until I was ten. I know what your ‘I’m really upset but trying to pretend I’m not’ voice sounds like. What’s going on?”
Olivia swallowed over a painful lump in her throat. “It’s nothing really. It’s... Scott.”
“Did something happen?”
“Yeah. It did.”
Rebecca was silent for a moment. “I always knew you were into him. Why else would you have it out for him the way you did?”
“I’m not into him. I mean, I wasn’t. I don’t think I was.”
“But you are now?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s not into me.”
“He might be. Who can possibly know what’s going on beneath that I’m-king-of-the-world act he puts on?”
Olivia knew what was going on beneath his act.
At least she’d thought she did.
“He’s not, Rebecca. I thought we had... a really good night, and it felt like we were... sharing stuff that was pretty deep. But the first thing he told me afterward was that he needs space.”
“You’re kidding. That’s kind of cold.”
“I thought so.” A tear was beading on her eyelashes, so she quickly wiped it away.
“I’m really sorry, Olivia. I know that’s got to hurt.”
“It’s okay. I’m really not stupid about things, you know.”
“I know you’re not stupid. But it’s not stupid to hope for something with a guy if you thought there was reason.”
“I thought there was. But I was wrong. And I’m not going to whine about it or hold on to something that’s never going to happen.”
“Maybe he meant what he said. About needing space. Maybe he really does need some.”
“Well, I’m giving it to him!”
“I know that. I just mean maybe he wasn’t trying to blow you off. You said you shared a lot of deep stuff? He doesn’t do that. I don’t know him very well, but I’d bet he never does that. Maybe it was hard for him. Really hard. Maybe he just needs a little time to wrap his head around what’s happening before he moves forward.”
Olivia felt herself leaning into the words, clinging to them, hoping desperately that they were right. But she caught herself almost immediately. “No. You always think the best in everyone, but usually people don’t lead with their best. I’m not going to concoct some sort of ridiculous fantasy about what happened. We had sex. Then he pulled back, pushed me away. Any fool knows what that means.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Rebecca, please don’t encourage me to be stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, Olivia. I know Dad made you think you were, but you were never stupid. And you know, one thing I’ve learned since this summer is that sometimes love isn’t smart. It can’t be smart. It’s better than smart. It takes everything.”
Olivia was shaking, her eyes blurring over. “I don’t love Scott.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t.”
“I said okay.”
“And he doesn’t want... everything from me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Olivia took a couple of deep breaths and got control of her trembling. “Thanks, Rebecca.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m hoping Ed and Chuck will dig us out of this by the afternoon. The power came back on, so at least we’re not in the dark anymore.”
“Let me know how it goes.”
Olivia felt a little better when she hung up, and she went to the window and looked out.
Scott was shoveling fast and hard. He’d already cleared the walk from the storage room to the front door and half the walk down to the driveway.
She watched his strong, lean body in his heavy coat and wondered if Rebecca was right about him.
Opening up last night had been hard for him. Olivia knew it had. Maybe he was genuinely trying to figure out how he felt and he wasn’t just trying to get away from her.
It didn’t mean there was hope for them, but it would make her feel better. Like she hadn’t made up what happened between them because she wanted it so much.
As she was staring at him, he straightened up and turned to face her, as if he’d sensed her presence. They gazed at each other through the window in silence, neither of them moving.
His expression was sober, almost aching. No trace of his characteristic amused irony.
She didn’t know what he was seeing on her face, but he wasn’t turning away from it.
Their shared gaze lasted longer than it should, and she couldn’t drag herself away until her phone rang again.
This time it was Ed, telling her that they’d finished plowing the parking lots at Holiday Acres and were starting on the roads.
In a few hours, Olivia and Scott would be able to leave this cottage at last.
IT WAS TWO O’CLOCK in the afternoon when she and Scott parked his SUV in a parking spot near the farmhouse. The private roads were clear enough to drive, and when Chuck had reached the driveway to Mistletoe Cottage, he’d helped Scott push his car out of the ditch.
Now Olivia was home, and Scott hadn’t said a word the entire drive back.
“Okay,” she said when he put the SUV into park. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For driving me back. For... everything.”
He turned his head to meet her eyes. “You’re welcome. Thank you.”
She nodded and took a quick breath. “Are we... are we okay with everything?”
“Yes. As long as you’re okay.”
“I guess I am. It feels... awkward. If you want to...” She shook her head, wondering what the hell she was even trying to say.
“If I want to what?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s just one of those things.” She remembered what Rebecca had said and made herself be brave. “But it meant a lot to me. Last night did. It meant a lot.”
“It meant a lot to me too.” Scott’s hands were clenched around the steering wheel, and his voice was thicker than normal.
She waited to see if he’d say anything else, but he didn’t. She nodded again and unbuckled her seat belt. “I’ll see you around, Scott.”
“See you around.”
And that was it. Whatever had happened between them was evidently over.
She got out of his car and closed the door behind her.
The county roads weren’t all clear yet, so it might be iffy for him to try to get home. He should be getting out of his car so he could hang out in the store or the coffee shop until the roads were clearer.
But he didn’t. And he didn’t back out of his parking space and drive away.
He stayed in the driver’s seat of his car as she walked carefully up the still slippery sidewalk that led to the front door of the old farmhouse.
She glanced back once, but Scott still hadn’t moved.
She wanted to go back to him.
She needed to go back to him.
But she didn’t.
Ten
SCOTT COULDN’T MOVE.
He was paralyzed, trapped in place, holding on to the steering wheel like it was the only way to hold himself together.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. He was stuck in an emotional daze so all-consuming that he was taken completely by surprise when the door of his SUV suddenly opened and someone climbed in to sit in the passenger seat.
He jerked in shock and focused on the intruder.
Not Olivia.
Russ. His uncle. Sitting there looking at him like it was perfectly normal for him to have gotten into the car uninvited.
“What’s going on here?” Russ asked. He had the Matheson eyes and brown hair about the same shade as Scott’s, but his had a sprinkling of gray in it. He’d been eighteen when Scott was born.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’ve been sitting here for ten minutes, and I’m not blind. Something is wrong.”
“It’s not important.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Then why do you look like the slightest impact would shatter you into pieces?”
Because it would. Scott was genuinely afraid that it would.
“Hey. Scott. Talk to me.” Russ had turned in the passenger seat to face him.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Damn it,” Russ muttered. “You boys are all the same. All three of you.”
Scott was surprised by the vehemence and couldn’t think of a response.
“You know, I loved your father. He was a lot older than me, so we were never very close, but he was my brother and I loved him. He had it much harder than I did growing up since our folks didn’t have any extra money until I was born. He had to work really hard. A lot harder than me.” Russ sighed and leaned his head back against the seat. “He didn’t get a chance to go to college. He didn’t have a lot of the things I had as a boy. He had it rough.”
Scott’s eyebrows had arched as he listened. Russ wasn’t prone to rambling about anything—certainly not personal history. “I know he did. He let us know it all the time.”
“I know. He had it rough, and it took its toll on him. And then he took that toll out on you boys. I wasn’t around, so I didn’t see it, but I can see the aftermath.”
“What aftermath?”
“What happened because he didn’t know how to love you boys and because your mama died too soon.” Russ shook his head. “He didn’t teach you how to love. He taught Kent to hide and Phil to run away and you to...”
“To what?” Scott was deeply torn but also becoming defensive. “He taught me to what?”
“To put on a mask for the world. To never be vulnerable. To always try to be someone you aren’t.”
Scott had always liked Russ, and they’d gotten along well for the past four years, ever since Russ had moved back home from Richmond. But he’d never realized Russ knew him as well, as deeply, as this. “I don’t always do that.”
“Yes, you do. You know you do. You haven’t been yourself since you went to college.”
Scott tried to object, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to his uncle like that, not when Russ was being so open with him. “It wasn’t just Dad.”
Russ blinked. “What else was it?”
Scott didn’t answer.
“Did something else happen?”
Of course it had happened. Life happened. And life tore you apart without fail and only occasionally put you together again.
“Scott? Is there something you need to tell me?”
His uncle was normally sardonic, distantly amused. It was unnerving to see him like this. “No,” Scott said hoarsely. “Nothing. Just life.”
He’d told Olivia. He wasn’t sure he’d ever tell anyone else about how he’d lost his virginity, how he’d learned to understand the nature of sex until Olivia had taught him it could be something else.
“So now that you know what you’re doing, you should be able to take the mask off. Right?”
Scott stared at his uncle blankly.
“Olivia deserves better from you. She deserves the real thing.”
For no good reason, Scott was hit with a wave of anger. He lashed out. “Fuck you, Russ. Who are you to tell me what Olivia deserves? When have you ever even tried for the real thing? You sit there and watch the world go by from a safe distance. You’ve never even tried to be in love. Who are you to lecture me about it?”
Russ winced slightly, like he’d been hit. But his voice was mild when he replied, “You’re right. Maybe I’m a hypocrite. Maybe I have no ground to stand on when it comes to this. But you’re wrong about my never being in love. And at least I tried to step up.”
“What? You did?” Scott was as astonished at this as he would have been if Russ had told
him he’d sprouted wings and flown.
“Yeah. I did. I tried, and it didn’t work. And maybe that’s her final answer and I’ll have to live with it, but at least I gave it a try. Did you try? Did you really try to step up?”
Scott’s vision blurred, the question hitting him hard.
“Maybe being a Matheson means we have these weird brown eyes and we’re all emotionally damaged. Family can do that to you. But Phil stepped up, and he’s happy now. He’s getting better. Why the hell shouldn’t the same be true of you?”
“Rebecca loves Phil. Olivia doesn’t—”
“Do you know that? For sure? Did you even give her the option?”
No. He hadn’t. He’d pulled away like a wounded animal who was terrified of getting hurt again, who had to show the world only teeth and claws because its underbelly was too soft.
Russ went on. “The Holidays might have had it better than you did growing up. At least they had a mother who loved them. But they didn’t have an easy father either, and they had to learn to be strong and rely on themselves, rather than trusting in men to take care of them. That means they’re never going to make it easy. They’re not going to let down their guard unless they know for sure the man is offering them everything. That’s true of Olivia as much as it is of the rest of them.”
“Olivia doesn’t want...” Scott trailed off, so rattled he couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Then why was she crying just now as she came into the house?”
“She was crying?”
“Yes. I have to assume it was your doing. You might think about that for a minute.”
Before Scott could form an answer, Russ was opening the passenger door and getting out. He said before he slammed it closed, “Your father didn’t do right by you, but you can do right by her.”
Scott was paralyzed again as he watched Russ take the few steps to the sidewalk. When his uncle stopped, looking out at the road, Scott turned to see what had distracted him.
It was Laura, driving slowly into the parking lot in one of the Holidays’ SUVs. Before she’d barely put it in park, a small boy was jumping out of the car and running toward Russ.
Tommy. Laura’s smart, fearless, brown-eyed son.
He slipped once as he ran, but he popped right back up, still grinning. When he reached Russ, he hurled himself at him in a hug.
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