“Thank you for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy for you, but I needed to know.” Olivia held her head high and gave a bright smile. “I won’t let him ruin our day. He’s taken too much already.”
Sal’s admiration for her rose another notch. She’d taken the news hard, but she hadn’t let it defeat her.
“You’re good to me,” Olivia said as he helped her into the truck. “Good for me,” she added when he climbed in the driver’s side and buckled up.
Sal didn’t let himself think beyond the next few hours.
* * *
They drove to a spot tucked on the crest of a gentle hill where they could look out at the city.
Determined to enjoy the day, Olivia shook away the grief over Calvin that had clung to her like a burr. What sleep she’d managed to get last night had been punctuated with accusations, from the agents, from herself.
Enough.
She and Sal deserved a few hours of happiness, free from terrorist plots and a friend’s betrayal.
The day was dusted with magic. Olivia and Sal attacked the chicken with the enthusiasm of hungry children, unashamedly licking their fingers. They consumed the potato salad and pickles and argued good-naturedly over who got the last cookie.
Replete with good food, Olivia stretched out on the blanket and stared at the late afternoon sky.
The clouds were those perfect, dreamy ones, resembling giant marshmallows floating in a sky so blue that it hurt the eyes.
She wanted to bottle the day and preserve it as she’d seen her mother bottle peaches and pears. Rows of canned fruit had marched across the old-fashioned sideboard in the kitchen. A pang of loss seized Olivia as she thought of her mother, too soon gone at only forty years old.
She shook off the momentary sadness and concentrated on the man who sat cross-legged across from her. With a start, she accepted that she’d fallen in love with Sal all over again. Only this time, her feelings went far deeper. She knew the suffering he’d endured over his service to his country, the pain he still carried with him. It only made her love him more. She wanted to shout her love to the sky.
The remote expression in his eyes, though, kept the words locked inside of her. “Thank you for a perfect day.”
“My pleasure.”
The words were right, but something was wrong with the tone. She tried to discover what was off, but there was nothing she could pinpoint.
“Two years ago, when we were together, you made my heart do funny things.”
“Funny how?”
“You made it flutter.” She waved her fingers. “But now it’s more. It’s more real. And stronger. And I don’t know what to do with it. Except this.” She sat up and touched her lips to his. Everything she felt for him, for the man he was, filled her.
She caught his hand, laced her fingers with his. Palm to palm, she thought. It didn’t matter that his much bigger hand swallowed her own. Nor did it matter that his darker skin contrasted with the paleness of hers. All that mattered was that they were there, linked in all the important ways.
Gently, Sal pulled away.
The sun sank deep into the horizon, spilling fire and gold onto the landscape. Olivia spared a moment to absorb it, though even the compelling beauty of the sunset couldn’t penetrate the darkness that had moved into the day and her heart.
She felt Sal withdrawing from her. With every look, he moved another step from her. And she didn’t know why.
Was it worry over the terrorists’ plot that had caused him to withdraw? After he’d told her what Shelley had found on the drive, they hadn’t talked about Calvin or the Russians, neither wanting such ugliness to intrude upon the day.
Once she’d started to bring it up, then thought better of it. There’d be time enough to deal with the implications of Calvin’s involvement when she and Sal returned home. She’d tried to call Walter, to express her sympathy, but, once again, received no answer.
She didn’t blame him for not wanting to take any calls. Calvin’s part in the terrorist plot had become common knowledge. That, compounded by his death, must be eating away at his son.
She glanced at Sal, saw the bleakness in his eyes. Was it something more personal that had caused him to withdraw? Whatever it was, she felt a frisson of foreboding skate down her spine. Just when she thought they’d reached some kind of understanding, he closed himself off. It didn’t make sense.
His hands on her shoulders, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers.
Her heart tripped in her throat, part nerves, part pleasure, part satisfaction. The kiss was everything she’d remembered. And more. More than the kisses of two years ago.
She wondered at that. Was the more—and it was definitely more—because they had both grown in the intervening years? Or was it because they had faced danger together and come out on the other end?
Did he know that her heart bounced around in her chest like a child’s ball, or that nerves raced over her skin, making her hot and cold at the same time? Did he know that he had only to look at her and she shivered with pleasure?
She wasn’t sure. She only knew that in his arms, she was at home. She tried to convince herself that she was wrong about his distancing himself from her. Surely he could not have kissed her as he had if he didn’t care for her, love her.
* * *
When Sal touched his lips to hers, he tasted his own desperation, his fading hope that he and Olivia could have a life together. Lastly, he tasted bitterness. His own. He was damaged in ways he feared could never be healed.
He lifted his head and saw the wonder and love in Olivia’s gaze. He should never have kissed her, but he’d been unable to resist. “We should go.”
There was a quiet intimacy in the cab of the truck. He let it wrap its way around him. When they reached the city, he would tell her. She would protest, might even cry a little, but in the end, she would acknowledge that it was for the best, maybe even be a little relieved.
Yes, he’d made the right choice.
Life would return to normal. Olivia would go back to her job and fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves, and he would return to Atlanta, to his life there. In many ways, it was a good life. He had work he enjoyed, friends who were there for him when he needed them, which wasn’t often, but still, it was good to know they were there.
And he wondered who he was trying to convince that he wanted that life. He’d been content, if not happy, up until Olivia’s call. It had changed everything.
As they made the return trip to Olivia’s townhome, Sal felt her questioning gaze on him. He knew he was sending mixed signals. How did he tell her that he had nothing to give her?
Olivia was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, ever dreamed of, and he couldn’t have her. Because he loved her, he would walk away. Never mind that it would tear the heart from him.
He would do it because he didn’t have another choice. His soul was filled with a darkness so intense that sometimes he feared it would consume him.
Olivia deserved better.
TWENTY
Once home, Olivia emptied the picnic basket. “Thank you for today. I didn’t know how much I needed it.”
Sal stood by the window, his back to her. “We both did.”
She sniffed the leftover potato salad, decided it smelled iffy and put it in the trash. “What’s next for you?”
“I head back to Atlanta.”
“So soon?” She hoped her voice didn’t give away her dismay.
“It’s time. I have to get back to work.”
“Of course.” He’d stayed in Savannah for a week, far longer than either of them had foreseen when she’d called him.
“I’m glad we found the truth. That’s what matters.” He swung back to her. His face looked ravaged.
; “And us?” She dared to utter the question that had swelled inside of her for the last two days. Ever since the scene at the pier, Sal had pulled steadily away from her until she felt as though they were strangers. “What about us?”
She thought she had her answer, but, perversely, she wanted him to say the words. “You and me. Are we over, too?”
“Livvie.” If she’d doubted where she stood with him, the single word said it all. There was resignation there. Maybe even a touch of sadness. “We were over two years ago.”
“I thought... I thought things had changed.”
“Nothing’s changed. We’re still the same people. You’ll go back to fighting for the underdog and I...”
“And you’ll what?” She closed the few steps between them and laid her hand on his arm. “What will you do?”
“Shelley told me she had a new case for me. The CEO of an oil company received some threats and wants someone to look into it.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Whatever this thing is, it can’t go anywhere. You know what I did when I was overseas. I didn’t just kill the enemy. I spotted them for the snipers.”
“You did your job, the job your superiors assigned you. What would you say to a soldier who had done the same thing? Would you condemn him?”
“Of course not. He was following orders.”
“Then what makes it any different for you?” She let that sink in. “You think you’re better than the next guy? Then why are you holding yourself to a different set of standards?”
“You’re twisting everything up.”
“Am I?” She paused. “Or are you? You saved lives by doing what you did. You have to know that. In my book, that makes you a hero. Why can’t you show the same compassion to yourself that you showed to the children in Afghanistan? To your buddies?”
Sal didn’t respond, and she didn’t press. He needed to see in himself what she saw.
“I’m not a hero, so don’t make me out to be one.” He paced. “I’m not the right man for you. Your faith is a part of you. Mine died a long time ago. Don’t you get it? I’m broken inside. Nothing will put me back together.” The laugh he gave held not a whit of humor. Bitterness rang from its hollow tone. “I can’t ask you to stick around and watch as I fall apart.”
“What if I want to?”
“Then you’re a fool.”
The harshness of the words had her shrinking back. Calvin had said the same thing to her. Had it only been last night? “Why can’t you see yourself as I do? A strong man who did his best under intolerable conditions.”
“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. You’ll go back to your life. And I’ll go back to mine.”
“I love you. Nothing’s going to change that. Not even you.” It was her turn to move to the window and turn her back to him. “I love you. I always have.”
“This isn’t the time...”
“It’s exactly the time.” She spun around, stood on tiptoe to touch her lips to his. “I love you.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re feeling grateful. That isn’t love.”
“I’m not a child. I know the difference between gratitude and love.”
“Do you? We haven’t had a normal moment since this all began. You can’t trust what you’re feeling.”
“Maybe it’s you I can’t trust.”
He sucked in a hard breath at that. “Olivia...”
“Don’t. Just don’t.”
“We can talk it out. You’ll see that I’m right.”
“Unless you can believe that I love you, we have nothing to talk about. You were a Delta, but you’re running scared. Of me. Of what we could have together.”
“There is no ‘together.’ Not for us.”
“Is that what you want?”
“It’s what has to be.”
“I love you. If you’re too much of a coward to accept it, then you’re not the man I thought you were.”
“I can’t stay. I’d make you miserable.”
“Don’t you dare speak for me. We could have something good. Build a life together. But you won’t let yourself see what we have. It’s one thing to push me away. I hope you don’t do the same with the Lord. Because however much I love you, He loves you infinitely more.”
She sensed the internal struggle going on within Sal. Just when she thought he might accept what she was saying, he took a step back, putting an unbreachable distance between them. In that instant, any hope she had died.
“I can’t leave you alone tonight. Whoever killed Chantry is still out there.”
“He has no reason to come after me. Not anymore. Go home, Sal. There’s no place for you here.”
From the window, Olivia watched him walk away. When he disappeared from sight, she pressed her head against the pane of glass. She massaged her temples, back and forth, back and forth, as though the repetitive action could erase the pain.
She fisted her hands at her sides and thought about why Sal had turned away from her. He’d given the standard “It’s not you, it’s me” speech, but was it true? Maybe she was wrong about his feelings and he really didn’t love her. Had she ever considered the possibility? As she thought about it, she realized he’d never said those three all-important words.
At the time, she’d thought it was his reluctance to give voice to his feelings, but now she knew differently. The pain of Sal’s leaving her two years ago was nothing compared to this new heartache.
For as long as she could remember, she had struggled for perfection, in her personal and her professional life. Failure was anathema to her, and she had definitely failed in her relationships.
She hadn’t set out to fall in love with Salvatore Santonni, but love had stolen into her heart, even when it wasn’t returned.
Love wasn’t convenient. It was messy, complicated and, at times, painful. There were still things they would have needed to talk through. The big and little things that couples who cared about each other shared and discussed, worked through and managed.
She and Sal could have handled those, if only he’d give them a chance. That was what hurt the most: he had refused to give them a chance.
Her childhood dreams of finding her Prince Charming, perfect in every way, had been replaced by something far more substantial and infinitely more dear. She’d found that she didn’t need a perfect man; she only needed the one who was perfect for her.
He didn’t believe it. He saw only darkness in himself. He didn’t see what she did. He didn’t see the courageous man who had given everything for his country, including parts of his soul. He didn’t see the compassion that shone from his eyes or the simple goodness that colored everything he did. He was a true hero in every sense of the word.
She knew one thing for certain. Nothing would ever be the same.
* * *
Sal forced himself to walk away. From Olivia. From the life they might have had if his soul had not been so scarred. As long as he focused on what was best for her, he was able to put one foot in front of the other. He had to steer away from the minefield of what he wanted for himself.
He longed to believe her, to believe they had a future together. Intending to call her, he picked up the phone, aching to hear her voice. And set it down again. Nothing had changed from when he’d left her two years ago. He was still the same man he had been, flawed and imperfect.
There’d been stark pain in Olivia’s voice when she’d ordered him to leave. He’d done that. He had to live with the knowledge. But how much worse for her would it be if she were to marry him and had to endure the darkness that lived inside of him?
He couldn’t do that to her. Wouldn’t.
What he felt for her terrified him because for every ounce of love he had for her, he felt...knew...simultaneo
usly that he wasn’t worthy.
Leaving Olivia was the right thing to do, even if it wrenched the heart from him. Though they couldn’t be together, he still needed to make certain she was safe.
He called Nicco, who freelanced for S&J when they needed an operative in Savannah.
“I need a favor.”
* * *
Grateful that it was Sunday and she didn’t have to show up for work, Olivia showered and then dressed in a pair of jeans and a pink top. She needed to take in all that had happened over the last week: Calvin’s betrayal and death, and, more important, Sal’s rejection.
She tackled Calvin first. For her own peace of mind, she had to believe that he’d once been a good man, the man she remembered. He’d allowed the lure of easy money, the quick score, the big and shiny to take him down the wrong path. He wouldn’t be the first to succumb to such temptation.
As for Sal, she just wanted to weep. He’d turned away from her and what they might have had. She hadn’t been enough for him to put away the past.
The ringing of the doorbell had her checking the peephole, then opening the door as she recognized Nicco Santonni.
She hadn’t paid a lot of attention to Sal’s younger brother earlier and now gave him closer scrutiny. Though not as tall as Sal, Nicco still topped six feet easily. The dark hair and darker eyes said “Santonni,” as did the off-center dimple in his chin.
He had a fresh-faced look about him, she thought, until she looked more deeply and saw the telltale lines fanning from the corners of his eyes, eyes that said he had seen more than his share of suffering. Sal had told her once that Nicco had served with the Rangers, the cause of a good-natured rivalry between the brothers.
“Sal sent me. Said maybe you and I might hang out for a while.”
“You mean he asked you to keep an eye on me.”
The dimple winked as he grinned. “He might have said something about that.”
She bit back the cry that threatened to spill from her lips. Sal didn’t want her, but he’d sent his brother to watch over her? The irony of it was too much.
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