by Anthology
“I’m driving. End of story.”
He lifted his eyebrows, obviously choosing to be amused instead of annoyed. But as she got closer, he flipped the keys to his left hand and raised them over his head. “Sure thing, short stuff.”
She batted at his arm, but she wasn’t going to haul on him. What was he thinking?
“Come and get them, Liv,” he repeated, his eyes darkening as he looked down at her. “Tackle me to the ground if you can’t climb me.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, sweetie. Come on, we have to get going.”
“We’ve got a couple of minutes. This is important.” He slid his right hand around her waist and brought her in close enough so she could feel the beginning of an erection. He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “You need to stop thinking of me as an invalid.”
“I don’t—“ She cut herself off. Yeah, maybe she had been. But he’d been shot. “I’m just being careful.” You’re too important to me. God, just the thought of losing him made her teary.
“It’s going to be a long time before I can shoot a gun or play basketball, but I can drive. And Liv…” He nudged her cheek with his lips on his way to her ear. “I can accept blow jobs like a champ. Just sayin’.” She growled as he pressed the keys into her palm. “Come on. I’ll nap while you work up a good rage, and then I can drive back while you blow me.” He was good. Her lips twitched as he gazed down at her. “I’m. Not. Broken.”
“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head at some point?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible.”
They held hands for much of the drive. She dropped him at the clinic and went grocery shopping, and on the way back he actually did fall asleep. See? She wanted to tell him. You’re not one hundred percent. But he wasn’t an invalid, either. She thought about that box of lingerie she’d ordered and never had a chance to wear before their lives were disrupted. She’d been thinking of bringing one of the outfits out at Christmas, now just ten days away. A formal reintroduction of intimacy to their relationship. She’d read articles on range of motion and the best positions, but still…it had seemed scary. And now Rafe had just ripped off that bandage with ease.
Or at least peeled up the edge.
She glanced across the car to her sleeping man. She did have work to do, a couple of hours of proofreading location schedules, and that needed to get done today. But as soon as she’d sent that off, she was going to shave her legs and put on something silky.
— —
When they got back to Pine Harbour, Rafe convinced Olivia he could safely drive across the village to his parents’ house while she did her work. He ignored the deep tug as he looked over his shoulder reversing out of the drive. You’re fine. Just park on the street in front of their house.
One of the first things he’d done when they came back from London was dig through Liv’s jewelry box. He didn’t want to give her a different ring. When he held that band he chose at a mall store six years ago, he was reminded of all the hope that younger man had had for the future. He didn’t want to give up on those dreams. But he also wanted to mark this renewed commitment to their relationship—a stronger, more understanding, more patient commitment. One that would never end.
He’d slid her engagement and wedding band set to Dani the next day with a pencil sketch of what he wanted. She’d driven to the jewellers in Owen Sound that same day. They’d called yesterday to confirm the rings were ready for pick-up, but he couldn’t very well ask Olivia to stop there with him.
He gave his sister a sheepish grin as he climbed the front stairs. She glowered at him. “It’s a good thing I love Olivia.” It had only been a bit out of her way since she’d had an early shift today and was already in Wiarton when he called, but still…he’d been relying on all of them for a lot this past month.
“Much appreciated, and I’ll happily return the favour some day.”
“If I have to send you to pick up my engagement ring at some point, I don’t want it.” She handed over a square velvet box. “Here.”
He flipped the box open. He already knew what they looked like, the jeweller had sent him a couple of photos via email, but seeing the delicate infinity band wrap around her engagement ring, the opposite side to her original wedding band…it was better than he imagined. “Shit. They’re…perfect.”
“You going to wait for Christmas?”
He shook his head. “That was the plan. But I think I’m going to do it tonight.” And then he was going to make love to his wife, even if it crippled him tomorrow.
A shadow crossed his sister’s face, and he tipped his head to the side. “You think that’s a mistake?”
“No. No! Ignore me, I’m just grumpy about being single for yet another holiday.” Rafe winced and Dani was halfway to punching him in the arm before she pulled her hand back. “Sorry, usual reaction to stupid brothers being stupid.”
“Come on, I don’t want to think of you being violated by a dirty boy, I can’t help it.”
“Oh yeah? And what are you going to do to Olivia if she says yes?”
Violate the heck out of her. Probably best to move on. “What do you mean if?”
“Seriously, I’m the wrong person to talk to about this. Let’s go inside where it’s not flippin’ freezing.”
“Not a word to Ma.”
He made it through an hour of coffee and cookies before he realized he needed a nap if he was going to make it through a special night. Damn. There was no pretending inside his head that he was fine. Lots of bargaining with a higher power, though. That desperation was an unpleasant feeling that he’d be happy to soon be rid of.
As if his ears were burning, Dean chose that moment to call and Rafe excused himself with a quick kiss on his mother’s cheek.
“Hey man, what’s up?” He took the steps down the front of the house carefully. Speed—or lack thereof—made all the difference. Gravity was a fucking bitch.
“Listen, sunshine, you need to keep your appointments with the shrink.”
“I only missed one.”
“All of them. You need to go to all of them, or you can’t come back to work.”
I’m not ready. He could admit it to himself, even if he didn’t want to tell anyone else—not Dean, and definitely not a doctor he didn’t know and couldn’t trust. His career hung in the balance. “I’m on sick leave until February. There are plenty of appointments that I will keep between now and then.”
Dean made a doubtful noise, then changed the subject, although that didn’t make the conversation any easier. “Ryan’s taken a leave of absence from work.”
“Yeah, he told me.” They’d had one awkward-as-fuck conversation at the funeral, and another equally painful talk two days ago while Olivia took the Howard kids tobogganing in their yard. Rafe didn’t share any more—didn’t tell Dean about the tears, his or Ryan’s. Dean might have been there when Lynn died, but it wasn’t the same. “It’s a good move.”
“I’m worried about him.”
“You know what? He’s worried about himself, too. And that’s a good thing. Listen, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you soon.”
He clicked out of the call before Dean could interject. That wasn’t what he wanted to focus on.
It mattered. It really did. But he wouldn’t let the tragedy consume him.
Besides, he still needed that fucking nap.
Olivia was still reading away at the computer when he returned. He kissed her, long and deep, the type of kiss that he’d promised her daily and that had been missing over the last few weeks. Then he took two pills and put his head down.
He woke hours later with a jerk. Before he could wrench himself out of bed, Liv rolled herself into his side and murmured a gentle reminder to take it easy.
“Shit, I didn’t mean to sleep that long.” He huffed out a long breath, then scrubbed his face.
“I made a pot roast for dinner, if you’re hungry.” Her beautiful face drifted into better view as she lifted herself above him. He
blinked, doing a double-take at the fancy lace and ribbon slip she was wearing. Holy—
Words failed him as all the blood in his body rushed painfully to his groin. “Yeah, I’m hungry,” he finally ground out. He licked his lips. He couldn’t lift up, not like this, but maybe if she lowered…
Like a gorgeous mind-reader, Liv brought her barely covered cleavage to his face and wiggled back and forth. He groaned, happily, as he breathed in the fragrance of her bare skin. “I thought I was going to have to seduce you.”
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, sliding down his body until her mouth hovered above his. She pressed a hot, needy kiss to his lips. “Tell me what I can do. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You can feed me,” he said, cupping her breast with one hand and squeezing her ass with the other when she gave him a disappointed look. All in good time. He pulled her flat against his body and rocked their cores together. Damn tugging. Okay, they’d try something else when they returned to this. “I want to have a shower, eat dinner, talk…the whole time with you wearing this. I like this.” He slid his fingers under the ribbon strap running over her shoulder and grinned as she shivered. “I like this a lot.”
“Do you want to split a beer?”
He’d cut out the narcotics a week before, but he’d been avoiding alcohol anyway. He nodded. “That sounds great.”
After the world’s fastest shower for a guy who couldn’t lift his arm over his head, he padded back to their room. Liv was setting the table with candles and fancy beer glasses, and that gave him an idea.
His suit from the funeral was still draped over the back of the occasional chair in the corner of their bedroom. He pulled on the pants and managed the shirt on his own, but there was no way he could get the fitted jacket on without her help. Barefoot, he stepped back into the main room. The dining nook was off of the living room, and Liv stood in the archway, a vision in black lace. From the look on her face, she liked the suit. A lot.
“Wow, now I feel under-dressed.”
He shook his head. “You’re perfect.”
“Want some help?”
He nodded and made as if to hand over his jacket, but he dropped it on the floor between them. He lowered himself to one knee, keeping his face ducked so she wouldn’t see his smile. The last time he did this they’d been in bed. This time it was going to be different. Deliberate and important.
She moved to join him on the floor and he reached out and wrapped his left hand around her calf, stilling her. “It’s okay, leave it.”
“What are you…” She stared down at him, eyes wide, and he smiled.
“Baby, I should have done this before.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
“I didn’t know.” He slid his hand higher, curving around her thigh. Her leg shook under his touch and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. He lifted his right hand, and as if she knew he needed her to meet him halfway, she extended her left hand and slid her small palm over his larger one. “I didn’t know you were my everything. I didn’t know I could have the worst day possible on the job and my only thought be of you. You deserve someone else, someone who’s smart enough to know all of that from day one, but I’m selfish. I want you all to myself, forever. And I’ll do whatever it takes to show you every single day that I love you more than anything else in the world. More than my job. More than my pride.”
“Don’t say that.” She shook her head slowly, her gaze never leaving his. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known. Brave and strong. You’re perfect just as you are.”
“Not quite. Something’s missing.” He fumbled for the ring box in his left pocket. “I need my wife back. Say you’ll marry me again, Liv. Say you’ll be mine, officially.” He flipped open the box and she sank to her knees, tears welling in her eyes. Damn. So much for doing this without waterworks. He grinned again as she realized just exactly what she was looking at.
“These are my rings…and a new one.”
“I don’t want to forget our first marriage, baby. Marrying you was the best thing I ever did. Maybe we were too young. I was definitely too stupid to keep from fucking up. But it brought us to this point, so those rings…I want them to be a part of our promise again. I’ve still got mine. I’ll wear it if you want.”
She nodded. “I want.” She pressed her cheek against his hand as he dried her tears. “I want to inscribe something inside it…for the rest of forever. That’s my promise to you.”
He drew her face to his and kissed her. He wanted to pull her into his lap or press her back against the floor, but his damn shoulder wouldn’t allow him to do either of those things. She knew, though, and rose above him, holding her hand to help him up. He didn’t need it, but that wasn’t the point. He took her hand and silently promised that he always would.
He kissed her again. There was nothing wrong with his feet, so he planted them wide and held her tight with his left arm as he made her breathless and giggly. Reluctantly he let her go, but her dinner had waited long enough. And they’d need their strength for what he planned next.
Over dinner they talked about the options for getting hitched again. Rafe wanted a wedding, but it didn’t seem appropriate given the proximity to Lynn’s death. Waiting wasn’t an option. So they agreed to invite his parents, siblings and Liv’s sister to join them at a civil service and dinner on New Year’s Eve before Zander headed back out west.
“Sixteen days until our wedding night, eh?” Her eyes danced as she looked at him over the rim of her glass.
“Sixteen nights of living in sin.” He winked.
She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and dropped her gaze to his chest, then lower.
“Liv?”
“Hmm?” Her eyes jumped back to his.
“Have you missed me? Because baby, I’ve missed you so much.” He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the way her pupils dilated and her lips parted. She nodded, and he crooked his finger. She stood, her breasts bouncing slightly as she did, and he changed his mind. He’d thought of having her come around to his side of the table. Touch and tease her for a bit, then have her drop to her knees and take him into her gorgeous mouth, all hot and slick and wet. But he needed those tits in his face. Needed to be inside her. And he had a crystal-clear image of how to accomplish both.
He stood and pressed himself against her back, kissing her neck for a minute before nudging her into the living room. “Undress me,” he told her, hunger roughing up his voice in a way she obviously liked. She twisted and her fingers flew down the front of his shirt, and then she slowed, pressing her palms back up his torso. She steered clear of his shoulder and the tender tissue down his side and on his arm, and when she moved to take the shirt off entirely he stopped her. Open was good enough. “The pants.”
Again her fingers teased him, knuckles brushing against aching skin, fingertips grazing his pubic hair. He gripped her hips, then curved his left hand back over her ass and between her legs. Hot, wet proof that she was ready. He settled on the couch, lust clouding his vision as he whispered for her to climb on top. He pulled her breasts free of their pretty trappings and sucked first one nipple then the other into his mouth. He kissed the skin between them, in that shadowy valley that only he got to explore, then tipped his head back as she sank onto him.
This wasn’t actually everything. At some point he’d need to figure out the work shit. But making love to Liv on the couch? It made him feel whole again.
He gripped her hips. He couldn’t fuck her, but he could tell her what to do. “Touch yourself,” he whispered. She brought both hands up to her naked breasts. She wore her engagement ring on her left hand and the infinity ring on her right, and the diamonds sparkled in the lamplight as she rode him. “Lower. Your clit. Make yourself come.”
She smiled and her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek for a moment before she looked at him again. “I love you.”
He said it too, over and over again, each refrain spurring her on. She touched them both, and th
en just herself as her legs started to shake on either side of his thighs. He forced himself to keep breathing. Her sex began to clench around him, she gasped his name, and he tugged her forward, bracing his feet on the ground. It didn’t take long to find the sweet spot. His face buried in the world’s best pillows, he nearly passed out as he spilled himself deep inside his Liv. Hot. Wet. Perfect. Forever.
EPILOGUE
OF all the days to be out of cell range…Olivia yanked her phone out of her pocket and nudged at the screen to see if she had any bars. Nothing. She stared out the window of the minivan they were using to shuttle the advance crew around the filming sites today. It was dark. He was probably home already. His first day back at work had gone just fine, she was sure of it.
But that wasn’t the only reason she was dying to talk to her husband today.
She’d had a positive pregnancy test this morning, a wonderful secret she’d kept to herself for thirteen hours and twenty-seven minutes. Rafe had left while she was still sleeping, and then she didn’t want to just call or text him. She wanted to see his face when he found out. They’d been married for two months—this time around. But neither of them had wanted to wait and she’d gone off the pill the night Rafe proposed. He wanted four, five, six kids, it kept changing, which made her laugh. They’d start with one and see how they managed. After her year of maternity leave, she wanted to build her own business. She might need to work part-time at the diner until it took off, but the last five months had showed her that there was a market for executive-level local support. Maybe a concierge service for celebrities vacationing at the islands and fancier cottage compounds on the peninsula. Maybe something specific to the entertainment industry. She had time to figure that out while she was falling in love with her baby.