"Then answer me, dammit."
"No." She leaped to her feet. "Are you satisfied? No, no and no." Her outburst filled the small room.
He hated the shame that shadowed her face and slumped her shoulders—hated that he'd put it there. "Don't look that way, as if you're ashamed of the way I make you feel."
"What do you possibly know about the way I feel?"
Disdain lifted her chin. "Does Adam know about this?" She gestured toward his costume.
"No. I overheard him. I knew he couldn't make the party."
"Would you at least have the decency to not tell him what happened tonight?"
"Even I can muster that much decency." A little sarcasm went a long way. "I'll tell him I followed you home to make sure you got here safely." He hated to do it, but he had to ask, "Are you still going to see him?"
"About the same time I go on one of those late-night TV talk circuses." She crossed the room. "I think you pretty effectively killed that relationship." Relief flooded him. "Get out of my house. If I ever lay eyes on you again, it'll be too soon."
Pretty perverse that even with her kicking him out, he planned on her laying more than eyes on him in the near future. He rounded the sofa and paused to let her walk through the doorway ahead of him.
"What about Grandma Pearl's birthday celebration tomorrow? Adam will wonder if you don't show up."
"He hasn't invited me." Triumph and relief threaded her words.
"Oh, yes he did. It's on the machine."
She stopped in her tracks. "Oh, no. And you're going to be there?" The thought appeared to nauseate her.
He'd never cared if the whole world considered him the bogeyman, but Olivia's disregard rankled. "She is my grandmother too."
"I suppose you're right." She headed toward the front door again, her chin thrust at a determined angle. "Well, then, after tomorrow, I never want to lay eyes on you again."
Too bad. "I start your new library wing on Monday."
"But your partner—" She whirled to face him.
"Change of plans. I'll be there."
"Switch it back to him." Was there a hint of a plea, a measure of desperation in her voice? It could only be a good thing for him that she was so eager to avoid him. At least she wasn't indifferent.
"No." He reached out and traced the curve of her cheek, warm satin over delicate bones, with the back of his right hand. She shuddered beneath his touch, her breathing shallow. "You can't ignore this thing between us."
"There's nothing between us."
"That's a lie and you know it. Wishing doesn't make it so." He shifted slightly until her back touched the front door. This time she was covered from head to toe, but she remembered being there an hour ago the same as he did. Despite everything that had just happened, she was turned on again. He read it in the glint in her eyes, in the subtle shift of her body against the door.
"It was so good. You were so hot and so wet and nothing's ever felt better." With each word, he moved closer until only a breath separated them. He cupped the nape of her neck in his hand, his thumb stroking the velvet smoothness. "You feel it now, don't you?" He knew she did. The wild beat of her pulse in her neck, the shallow rise and fall of her breasts, the seductive scent of her arousal, all exposed her awareness of their attraction.
With a strangled sound of fury, she buried her fingers in his hair and tugged his mouth to hers. Wrath and passion mingled with the brine of her tears as she assaulted his mouth. He cupped her bottom and pulled her tighter against him. Emotion, raw and powerful, surged between them. Olivia wrenched her mouth from his and pushed him away, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. She dashed away tears with the backs of her hands, leaving black smudges beneath her eyes.
"Go." She wrenched open the door.
Luke stepped out into the cold dark that held a promise of the bitter winter to come. Olivia paused in closing the door.
"I just want to make sure you know. I hate you."
Damn good thing he wasn't overly sensitive. Actually, her words encouraged him. "There's a mighty thin line between love and hate, Lady Olivia."
"Thin, wide, invisible—it doesn't matter. I assure you, it's a line I won't cross in this lifetime!"
Crash!
Luke stared at the door she'd just slammed in his face. Unfortunately, for her, he took that as a challenge. And he loved a challenge.
* * *
Olivia nursed a cup of tea and stared out at her orderly backyard garden, brushed by the early light of dawn. The rest of her life was shot to hell, but at least the garden was still in good shape. Hortense wove between her legs and then nipped at her ankle, aggravated her mistress hadn't come through with wet food yet.
"Sorry, baby, Mommy's brain has taken a leave of absence." Autopilot carried her through the motions and she placed the food on the floor. Glancing up, Beth's face in the window of her back door startled her. Living two doors down from your best friend was sometimes a good thing and sometimes a bad thing. Olivia wasn't sure which one it qualified as this morning.
Beth blew in, her mouth running a mile a minute. "So, how was the big night? Was Adam wowed? Did the night end with a big bang? Was I right or was I wrong? Did he hit you up for the nasty?" She plopped onto one of the stools at the island. "Come on. Tell all."
Hysteria, kept at bay all throughout the night, bubbled forth. Olivia laughed until tears clogged the back of her throat, the rank of guilt and shame bitter on her tongue.
Beth danced out of her seat. "Well, come on. Don't keep me waiting. What happened that was so funny?"
Olivia had sworn last night would die with only her and Luke ever knowing the truth, but she felt as if her brain might explode if she didn't talk to someone and her best friend seemed a much wiser choice than anyone else.
"The highlight of the night was winding up in bed with Luke Rutledge. Not once, but twice." Sarcasm and semihysteria didn't mix.
Beth fell into the chair, her mouth opening and closing like a large-mouth bass before she managed actual speech. "Shit. No shit. Holy shit. You're not kidding? God, that's great." She took a closer look at Olivia's face. "No. No, that's not great? Definitely not. But was it great? What happened? Wait—" she fished in the pocket of her sweat jacket and pulled out a beat-up pack of cigarettes "—I need a cigarette."
"I thought you quit." More guilt. Not only had she betrayed Adam by sleeping with his brother and betrayed her own sense of self. Now she was driving her friend back into a nicotine frenzy.
"I did. This is an emergency." Beth herded her toward the back door. "Come on. I know I can't smoke in here."
Olivia followed her down the back steps to the patio, welcoming the cold bite of the wrought iron chair through her skirt. At least she felt marginally alive. She pulled her bare feet up onto the edge of the seat and dropped her head against her knees. God she was so tired. Everything was chaos. A lighter clicked. The acrid smoke of Beth's cigarette fouled the crisp autumn air. Olivia raised her head. "I'll take one, please."
"A cigarette?" Beth looked at her as if she'd requested a lobotomy.
"Sure." She seemed hell-bent on a path of self-destruction, she might as well go for broke.
Beth passed her lit cigarette to Olivia. "What happened?"
Olivia, who barely tolerated the odor of smoke, took a deep drag. It tasted like a dirty ashtray smelled, but a sudden rush to her head left her feeling light-headed and buzzed. And faintly nauseous. Make that definitely nauseous. She handed the burning butt back to Beth. "I don't want to throw up."
"I don't want you to throw up. I want you to talk." She flicked off the glowing tip. "It's sort of making me sick too."
Olivia focused on the birdbath ensconced in the perennial bed and absently noted she needed to deadhead the buddleia. She wanted to talk—she needed to talk—but she didn't think she could bear to look her friend in the face. "Adam had a sudden business meeting. Luke put on Adam's costume, drove Adam's car and came to the party. One thing led to another and w
e wound up here. Things got out of hand and I haven't been able to sleep all night because my bed smells like him even after I changed the sheets and I can't get away from what happened there. Then I tried sleeping on the couch, but he was sitting there so now that's contaminated. And every time I walk by the front door or see it—"
"The front door?" Beth interrupted in an awed tone. "The front frigging door? Ohmigod."
Olivia passed a weary hand over her forehead. "Yes, the front door. Get a hold of yourself. One of us has to have some wits about them, and I seemed to have lost mine."
"No, that wasn't your wits, honey," Beth quipped and then tried to look contrite. "Sorry. Never mind."
Three doors down a lawn mower roared to life. She didn't need a watch to know it was 8:45. Elridge Whitman mowed his lawn every Saturday morning at precisely 8:45. Obviously Elridge hadn't ruined his life last night, or if he had, it didn't stop him from mowing his lawn. "What am I going to do? Luke's ruined my house. I've ruined my life." She searched Beth's freckled face and brown eyes for a solution.
Beth gave a slight shake of her head. "Hold on. Before we can move on to 'what'm I gonna do?' we've got to wrap up how this happened."
"I told you."
"No, you told me one thing led to another. So, he said, 'Hiya, I'm standing in for Adam tonight, wanna head over to the stabbin' cabin and get naked?' whereupon you promptly dragged him home and proceeded to christen the front door?"
"Stabbin' cabin? Christen the front door? Remind me why we're friends, again." She pulled off her glasses and cleaned them with her sweater hem. "I thought he was Adam."
"How could you possibly mistake Luke for Adam?"
Olivia waved her glasses in the general direction of Beth's blur. "It was dark. I didn't have on my glasses." She shoved them back onto her nose and the world regained focus.
"I hate to bring this up, but what about when he kissed you? Wasn't it different?"
Which was essentially Luke's defense earlier. How could she make them understand something she could barely reconcile? Something she'd berated herself for throughout the early morning hours.
"Of course it was different. But then everything else was as well. We were both in costume. There was almost something magical about it all." No one seemed to understand. She wasn't even sure she did anymore. She should have known the difference.
"Hmmm." Beth pursed her lips. "Magical. Now that's interesting. I knew Luke would be a better kisser. And if you're this wigged out, I hope at least it was good." Beth sighed. "Twice, and one of those against the door. It must've been very good."
"That's one of the most miserable parts. What kind of woman has great—beyond great—sex with a man she absolutely loathes?" She'd finally crossed the line she'd toed for so long and lived down to everyone's expectations. "Perhaps Amy Murdoch was right all those years ago. Even after I knew who he was, I still wanted him. That's why I couldn't sleep in my bed or on that couch because he was there and it's as if he gave me an itch only he can scratch." She raised a shaking hand to her head. "The next thing you know, I'll be buying a halter top and dyeing my hair."
"Damn, Skippy. You've got it bad. Real bad. What's the problem with letting him scratch that itch again?"
"Shall I start at the top of the list? I don't like him."
"Who says you've got to like him? Do you want him to scratch your itch or engage in deep conversation? Men do it all the time—sleep with women they wouldn't take home to meet their mother because the sex is good."
Olivia wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I'm not into recreational sex. And even if I were, there's the little matter of me having dated his brother. It strikes me as a wee tad tacky."
"Lucky call, if you ask me—"
Her frayed nerves weren't up to Beth maligning Adam. "Don't start again about Adam."
"What are you going to do about him?"
Her emotions were such a jumbled mess, she couldn't seem to sort herself out. "I don't know. I care about him. I thought we had a future together. But how could I ever be intimate with him after Luke? Every time he touched me, guilt would consume me." And would that be because Luke had touched you in the past or because you'd wish he was touching you now instead of Adam?
"I bet he wouldn't be nearly as good in the sack as Luke," Beth came close to reading her traitorous mind.
Olivia buried the horrid thought. "There's no way I can continue to see Adam. But if I break it off suddenly, he'll be suspicious." She shuddered at the thought of Adam finding out she'd slept with Luke. "I'm supposed to go to his grandmother's birthday party today. They'll both be there. I'm a wreck. But I can't not go. His grandmother's donated quite a bit of money to the new library wing." She felt physically ill at the consequences of her mistake. "Could my life possibly take on a more tawdry aspect?"
"Sure, it could be worse. What if Adam had walked in on you instead of calling." Beth paused for a breath and peered at Olivia beneath her fringe of bangs.
Olivia buried her head in her hands.
"Okay, never mind." Beth patted her back.
Olivia looked up. "What was I thinking last night? For one evening I lost my mind and now I've made a hash of everything." She pulled her head out of her hands. "You know what Colther County is like. If this gets around, I could lose my job. Small towns aren't big on having their librarian double as the town tart. What would happen to the literacy program, the kids after-school reading program…" Her self-respect? She raised her chin a notch. "And I refuse to fuel the gossip fires."
"Honey, you have landed yourself in something of a mess."
"You're right. I got myself into a mess, now I've just got to dig myself out." Olivia sat up straight, placing her feet on the cold, smooth patio stones.
"That's my girl." Beth scooted to the edge of her seat. "How're you gonna do it?"
"It's simple really. I'm just going to pretend it never happened. It's gone. Wipe the slate clean. I'll gradually break things off with Adam. I'll ignore Luke and everything will be fine."
Beth leaned back, wearing a smug look. "Ah, the avoidance theory. Good luck."
She lost some of the wind in her sail. "What does that mean?"
"It means some things are too big to ignore. I think this thing with Luke may be one of them."
This thing with Luke? He'd essentially made the same reference. "There is no thing with Luke, except a mistake made last night." There simply couldn't be a thing with Luke. An encounter—or two if you counted that first kiss thirteen years ago—was not going to destroy her self-perception. She wouldn't allow it. She would not let this get the best of her. She would eradicate Luke from her life. She could sit around whining and moaning or she could take action. If she spotted a weed taking over in her garden, she didn't just sit around complaining about it. She yanked it out. One of those wild impulses that occasionally punctuated her calm struck suddenly. "And I know just where to start."
"You do? Where?"
She'd eliminate all traces of Luke. Ready to take action, Olivia pushed to her feet. "A little exorcism will go a long way."
Beth quirked a red eyebrow, standing slowly. "Olivia, are you sure you feel okay?"
"I'm going to be just fine." She smiled grimly over her shoulder just to prove her point.
Beth shook her head, but followed nonetheless.
Olivia marched through the kitchen into her postage-stamp laundry room. Beth stood in the door, wide-eyed, while Olivia gathered a measuring tape and her drill. She already felt notably better. Suitably armed, she headed for the front door, grabbing the cordless phone on the way.
She speed-dialed the local hardware store. "Harold? Hi, this is Olivia Cooper. Can you send over a…" she held the phone on her shoulder and checked the door width with her tape measure "…let's see, a thirty-six inch, right-hand exterior door this morning? Wood. Six-panel. Half an hour? Great. I'll be here."
She hung up the phone.
"Why do you need another door?" Beth asked.
"This one's ta
inted," Olivia reasoned, and then proceeded to remove the hardware and take the door off the hinges. She felt positively giddy, all because she was in control—taking action and moving forward. And maybe sleep deprivation played a minor roll in her giddy state as well.
Olivia hefted the power drill. "You do have a set of your own power tools, don't you? They're empowering—no pun intended. You never know when you'll need to replace a door."
"You've lost it," Beth opined as she helped Olivia wrestle the door through the house and into the backyard. Olivia settled the door onto the edge of the patio and went in search of the cordless phone once again. Where had she left it?
"Nope. Just getting my life back in order. Soon last night will merely be a blip on the radar screen of my life." She found the phone on the floor by the now-gaping hole that used to be the front door. "One down, two to go."
She traipsed through the house and fished the phone book out of a kitchen drawer. Flipping through, she found the number for the one and only furniture company in town.
"Mike? Olivia Cooper here. Can you deliver a mattress and sofa this morning? And can you take the old mattress and sofa and drop it off at the shelter?" Luckily she frequented Mike's store and had recently shopped a new sofa. She worked through the details and hung up.
Beth gaped in her direction and then shook her head as if to clear it. "Did you or did you not just buy a sofa?"
"I did. It's a camelback upholstered in a lovely buttery chenille—"
"That's nice. You sound like an infomercial." Beth interrupted her sofa description. "But you just dropped a wad of money on a brand-new sofa and a mattress."
"What? Can't a woman make a few interior changes? That's what I have a savings account for—emergencies. This qualifies as an emergency."
Beth shrugged. "Suit yourself. I've just never seen you like this. But then again, you've never had sex against your front door with Luke either, have you?"
Put like that it sounded wicked and a bit tawdry and a ribbon of desire curled through her.
"I already regret telling you that." She seemed to be dining on regret this morning. Olivia trekked out the back door and across the dew-damped grass to the garden shed tucked on the back of her property. She knew exactly where to find the red, plastic gasoline can.
BARELY MISTAKEN Page 6