by C J Marie
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Bernadette didn’t allow Olive to go on before making her demands. “The bridal shower is tomorrow, you’ll remember that is when this ends. I don’t need my daughter flinging herself on a man. Especially when she is not even seeing—”
“I am,” Olive blurted, a hand covering her eyes as she clutched the phone to the side of her head.
“Excuse me?”
It was a moment where crickets would chirp if Olive was living through a movie. Who knew such suffocating tension could build between a phone call? Cotton balls lined the back of her throat and sent Olive on a spree to find something cool to soak the dryness. She ended up leaning against her counter instead, a hand pressed to her forehead. “I know you won’t approve, Mama, but I need to tell you—”
“Hold on,” Bernadette snapped. “Beau and Prudy just arrived.”
Flushing disappointment bled into her cheeks. She wanted to tell her mother it was polite to end a phone call before speaking to others, but she didn’t. Olive listened to Bernadette shuffle about, talking to her aunt. She heard Beau’s deep voice asking something about the shower, but couldn’t make out her mother’s reply. “I’m dating, Rafe,” she whispered, knowing Bernadette was too unfocused to hear, but also to build her courage. “We’re dating, and I’m happy doing so.”
“Yes, I’m speaking with Olive,” her mother muttered closer to the phone. “You were right, Prudy, sounds like she might be getting caught up in this.” Bernadette cleared her throat. “Olive Jane, I need to get going. I want to make it clear whatever you’re thinking, it ends after the shower. That was the arrangement.”
“Mama, I—”
“I’ve got to go. I mean it though, Olive. No inappropriate behavior. You won’t embarrass your father or me by public displays of affection.”
“You’re not listening.”
Another dangerous pause. “We’ll discuss whatever you feel is so pressing after the shower. See you tomorrow. Bye, now.”
Bernadette wouldn’t know if Olive had more to say, or if she even bid her farewell because her mother turned her attention back to her cousin and aunt and ended the phone call. Olive was left stunned and alone on her couch. Her tears weren’t out of despondency, more fury. Not even an attempt to hear Olive. Her mother suspected, Olive could hear it in her tone, Bernadette wasn’t willing to listen. As usual, Olive was put off until her mother could practice her retorts or demands.
Olive stalked in a wide circle around her living room, her hands on her hips, curse words flying through her mind. “Pure arrogance. Absolute, pure snobbish, arrogance,” she grumbled out loud.
Why was she surprised the conversation was put on hold? Tomorrow would be another hold, there would always be an excuse. Olive could give birth to Rafe’s child and her mother would still be brushing off the truth in the delivery room.
In her fantasy world Olive believed her family would be overjoyed whenever they learned she’d found a man who cherished her. A man who knew all her quirks, imperfections, and still said he loved her. A man who worked hard, never asked for anything. But no—he wasn’t drowning in six-figure salaries and stylish cars. Like a blinder curtain wiped from her eyes, Olive shrieked her frustration. The people she loved in her life were ignorant snobs. And it broke her heart.
***
Rafe nearly leaped back when Olive ripped her door open and attacked his mouth like he was water after a long drought. He stumbled back against the wall in the hallway, smiling against her mouth. “What…” Olive kissed him harder, a feral desperation in the way her lips commanded his. Giving into the need, Rafe curled his arms around her waist and urged her back into the apartment.
Their breaths coming rapid and short when he shut the door behind them, drawing a chuckle from his throat. “Ollie, it hasn’t been that long has it?”
Olive’s grin was sly and deliberate. “Long enough, Rafe. Is it so bad for me to want you?”
Rafe lifted her in his arms and shook his head. “No, princess. I’ll take you whenever I can. I thought I’d at least get some food in you first.”
Olive chuckled, trapping his face between her hands as she kissed him slowly. “Food will be there whenever we want. I missed you.” She pulled back, her gaze ignited with fire that fueled the racing pulse in his head. “You know you’re the one I want, right?”
Rafe kissed her sweetly, wondering if there was a deeper meaning in the statement. Though the blaze in her eyes hinted Olive wasn’t interested in talking. He nodded. “I know, Ol.”
The conversation was put on hold, it only took another breath before Rafe realized Olive was right. Food would be there whenever they wanted.
Rafe trailed his fingertips along Olive’s shoulder. She nestled against his chest, the sugary scent of her hair overpowering his senses as he pulled her closer. The ebony sky was clear and stars broke through black, glassy sky as silence enrobed his truck. They’d stayed long enough in Olive’s apartment sitting down at a stuffy restaurant hadn’t appealed to either of them. With bags filled with wrappers from deli sandwiches piled at the foot of the truck bed, Rafe leaned back staring at the sky, grateful his yard was large enough they could feel alone.
“How was the last day?” Rafe asked after a comfortable silence.
Olive tilted her face toward him and smiled. “It was just fine. I have a folder filled with the cutest little pictures you ever saw.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You did it, Ol. I’m proud of you, you know. I always was, for sticking with what made you happy.”
She grinned and squeezed her arms around his waist tighter. “I’m proud of you too, Rafe.”
He scoffed. “For what?”
Olive settled on her knees, her scowl playful. ‘What do you mean for what? You don’t think I’m proud to have you?”
Cocking his head to one side, he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t exactly done anything of note, Ollie.”
“You have to me.” She kissed his neck. “You work harder than anyone I know.” With care, her lips found his jaw. Rafe smiled, when her hands brushed over his T-shirt, tracing his chest. “You treat your mama like a queen.” Olive moved her mouth to the other side of his neck. “You’re smart and sweet.” She brushed her lips over his mouth, her fingers threading with his. “You know how to love a woman properly.” Her kiss sent a rush to his head before she pulled away too soon. “Those are just a few things of note. I could go on.”
Rafe laughed softly. “I think my head might get big if I keep spending time with you.”
Olive snickered. “I’ll take you with a big head.”
His hands brushed across her skin, and Rafe was positive he’d never tire of feeling Olive Cutler in his arms. He took in the moment she rested her head on his chest looking up at the sky together.
“Tomorrow is the last event,” she whispered.
Rafe’s pulse ticked up. His arm tightened around her shoulders. “It’s a good thing isn’t it? No more pretending.”
“I suppose. It was foolish of my mama to use the name Whitney. What will happen when everyone learns the name Whitfield someday?”
Rafe smiled, there was a unique pleasure when Olive talked about the future. “I haven’t given it much thought, but when that day comes, I guess your parents will need to decide what to do because I don’t plan on giving you the name Whitney.”
Olive gripped his shirt, and she peered up at him with her bright eyes. “Are you saying you plan to give me your name?”
He flushed and glanced back to the sky. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know, I’m waiting for you to say it without getting all shy.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “You’re pushy.”
“Always have been, Rafe, you should know by now.”
Groaning softly, Rafe tugged Olive over his lap, his palm cupped the side of her face. “Ollie, if you think I’ve been playing around here, I’ve screwed up somewhere.” She settled against his hip
s, each of her fingertips dancing slowly on the back of his neck. “I plan to do a lot of things with you—changing your name hopefully being one.”
She raised the skin on his neck through her tender kiss. “See, that wasn’t so hard, you big baby.”
She shrieked when he pinched her sides and they tussled with each other. Laughing, tickling, kissing, until the neighbors dimmed their lights, and the world seemed to fall asleep. Rafe surrounded Olive’s shoulders with his arms, every inch of her smooth, warm skin igniting his senses. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so complete. Life without a father, knowing why his father hadn’t wanted him, knowing there were people who would always look down on his family, had drilled a hole through his soul. The only person who had ever filled it was Olive. Even as kids, when she would stand against Beau in defense of him, when she would get dirty in the creek with the son of the maid with abandon, Olive had been filling the empty side of him since childhood. Now, as a man, he prayed she would always be the piece inside he couldn’t stand to live without.
2 Months ago
Olive tapped on the side of the truck gently. Rafe’s head popped up from the bed, his eyes narrowed at first, but thankfully they softened when he caught sight of her. “Ollie? I didn’t even hear you pull up. Everything okay?”
She shook her head. “No, everything is not okay. You see, I’ve been calling this friend of mine and he hasn’t been picking up. I’m a worrier, Rafe, and so I find myself getting more and more concerned about him.”
He rolled his eyes, but chuckled as he released the tailgate and helped her into the bed. “Maybe your friend is a grown man and you don’t need to be worrying about him at all.”
She smacked his shoulder and shook her head. “Well, even grown-A men need to have some people worry about them.”
Rafe laughed now, crossing his ankles when Olive sat cross-legged next to him. “Your mama would be proud of you keeping those curses off your tongue.”
Olive nodded. “Always pleasing,” she chirped, cheesing her smile for effect. “I sincerely have been worried. Lily texted me and told me you’re ignoring August. Not a good sign when twins don’t speak.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “You know August. He should be a shrink someday. He thinks talking solves the world’s problems. He needs to be thinking of his baby and wife, not his brother’s girl messing around.”
Olive winced and rushed through the inner cycle of how she’d slap Dalia across the cheek next time she saw the woman before speaking. “How are you, Rafe? Don’t lie to me, I know when you lie.”
He closed his eyes, resting his head against the back window of the truck. “I’m mad, Ol. Mad as all get out, but I’m okay too.”
“I’m sorry it happened, all the same.”
He rolled his gaze toward her. “Come on, princess. You weren’t exactly thrilled with me dating Dalia.”
Olive tried not to smile, but the corners of her mouth twitched despite her efforts. “I may have believed you deserved someone… different, but you were happy. So, I was happy. And I’m allowed to feel for you when I know you’ve been hurt.”
Rafe slung his arm around her shoulders. “Thanks, but no more worrying. It’s over now.”
“Has she tried to talk to you?”
Rafe nodded. “Every day. What is there to say? I walked in on my girlfriend sleeping with her co-worker. In the middle of the day, Ol. It’s like she wanted to be caught so I’d end it.”
“I don’t know if that’s true,” Olive offered. “Maybe it would be good to talk.”
“No thanks.”
Olive rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re right. Let’s sit here and say all the things we don’t like about her.”
With a laugh, he nudged her in the side. “Nah, I’d rather forget for a little while. You make it easy to forget things are screwed up. You up for the beach?”
Olive tilted her head. “Rafe Whitfield—do you know me at all? I’m always up for the beach.”
Olive reveled in his smile—the first one she’d seen in weeks. Without thinking she hugged his neck. Was Tom in her life—yes, and he wouldn’t take it well knowing she was getting cozy with a Whitfield. Olive’s cheek brushed against Rafe’s when she pulled away, their eyes locking for a stunning moment that stole her breath. If a single gaze from Rafe could stir her insides with such a breathless need, what did that mean? Tom was going to propose, Dot practically screamed it over the phone last week, it was just a matter of when.
Slipping into the cab of the truck, Olive determined she would pretend for a day that she wasn’t having unseemly thoughts toward the man she’d known her entire life. She wouldn’t worry that Thomas was planning on dropping to one knee—or that she would accept him. Olive would agree to marry Thomas Abernathy because Rafe didn’t want her. If Rafe wanted her—things could be different. Olive knew it would please her family to connect with the strength of the Abernathy family, and Tom was a decent man. But it didn’t change the plan that for today, she would pretend like she was giving her heart to Rafe, and everything else could just sit on a pin for now.
Chapter 18
“That was nice of you to invite, Jace. You two hit it off?” Rafe asked. Olive nodded and grinned, though inside her chest was turning into a raging storm the longer they drove.
“She’s sweet. I hope you don’t mind.”
Rafe shook his head through a grin. “No, I like her too. She even talked to August over the phone when she came over for dinner.”
“Are you going to meet her brother and your aunt and uncle?”
Rafe shrugged. “Probably. Jace mentioned she spoke with them, but her parents are abroad, I guess. And Will is running things in Charlotte while they’re gone. I think we will try once August is in town.”
“That’s great,” she muttered.
Olive fiddled with the ring on her hand. Rafe was driving her car to the house, and she knew he was casting a few gazes in her direction once she fell silent. The center of her stomach was flopping around—that feeling of falling mingled with adrenaline and a bit of fear—she didn’t want to go to the shower. Olive wasn’t superstitious, but heavy dread curled her shoulders forward the longer they drove. The feeling was most likely due to the awkward conversation with her mother the day before.
Rafe tucked his fingers around her clammy palm and drew the back of her hand against his lips. He asked, “What’s wrong?” His eyes flicked back and forth between her and the road.
Filling her lungs, Olive met his eye. “I don’t like that people will be bringing gifts. This feels wrong, Rafe. It’s upsetting my stomach.”
Rafe’s mouth went flat, but he nodded. “I’ve been feeling that way for a long time. We’ll sort it out though, Bernadette said they’d return any gifts, but I thought they were asking people to forgo gifts.”
Olive snorted. “People won’t listen. It will probably turn into a competition on who brought the biggest. Who knows, someone might buy us a house today.”
Rafe chuckled and settled his hand outside the rolled window. Olive embraced the warm breeze, the fragrant air calmed her nerves. Rafe peered at her. The beautiful ice in his eyes reaffirming whatever happened, at the end of the day, she had Rafe Whitfield. Nothing else really mattered.
“Ollie, is anything else bothering you? Are you upset Mama isn’t coming? I think it’s a good thing, she’d throw a fit if she knew people thought my last name was Whitney.”
Olive shook her head. “No, I agree. I don’t want anyone else telling Millie the truth except us. I suppose that’s part of it, the disappointment others will have.” Yes confessing to Millie they weren’t planning a wedding—yet—had burdened her brain. But it was more the certain showdown of death between her mother that was tingling along her spine—and not in a good way. Once the sun crept over the city that morning, Olive determined she wouldn’t leave the house until her parents knew the depth of her feelings. She forced a smile leaning across the console. “I’m alright, but I won’
t deny I’m looking forward to this day being over.”
Rafe agreed by squeezing her hand.
Olive gaped at the property, impressed and flustered more. Her mother seemed to be digging herself a deeper hole by making everything such a gargantuan ordeal. Beautiful white canopies with shimmering ribbons tied to lawn chairs were strewn about the lawn. There were refreshment tables, but Olive knew inside would be a different story. Along the drive her mother had potted flowering arrangements leading the way into the front of the house. Even the area where cars were to park was surrounded by flowing iridescent fabric. Closing her eyes, when Rafe parked, Olive cursed agreeing to lie from the beginning. Of course, it was possible, Rafe and Olive might never have taken the leap were it not for the fake engagement. She held onto the thought as Rafe opened her door for her and held her hand.
Being shoulder to shoulder, gave Olive time to admire Rafe. He wasn’t in a suit today. He seemed more like a casual businessman in his buttoned down shirt, and slacks. Olive admired the stubble trimmed on his face, it added a distinguished look to his handsome features. She noticed the small scar above his left brow and snickered.
“What?” he muttered.
She brushed her thumb over the mark. “I was remembering when you got this.”
Rafe rolled his eye. “Sometimes I don’t know how I survived all my rescues of you.”
“I was a regular damsel in distress most days trying to keep up with you and August.”
Rafe laughed. “I was ten, so I guess you were only nine and a head shorter still. I warned you.”
“Come on,” Olive chuckled. “If you told me I couldn’t do something, I always did it to prove you wrong. I just didn’t imagine getting stuck twenty feet up in a tree.”
Rafe glanced at the oak and nodded. “August told me to leave you—to be fair it was during his I-hate-girls phase.”