by C J Marie
Lon’s laugh was dripping in bitterness. “Son, have you lost your ever-loving mind? I’m thrilled you could never be like Tom. I saw the way he mocked Ollie, I noticed how her eyes were flat around the boy. Between you and me, when the engagement was called off, I was leaping for joy inside.
“Listen up, Rafe. If you think I’d stand between my only child and a man who respects her, values her, lights up her face, then you must think poorly of what sort of father I am.”
“No, sir,” Rafe insisted. “I’d never think anything but the best of your family.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Rafe bit the inside of his lip. “I hurt Ollie. I said things that I didn’t mean because… I was a coward.”
Lon nodded, his fingers peaking in front of his lips. “Yes, it would seem you did. What are you going to do about it?”
Rafe smiled and met Lon’s eye in ferocity. “I love Olive, sir. There are more people who think she should run far away from me.”
“Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ coming,” Lon said with a smile.
Rafe chuckled and rubbed his palms together. “But, if it’s all the same to you, after getting a reaming from my mother, you, and myself, I find I don’t care anymore. Olive is worth more to me than them. I know it without a doubt, sir.”
Lon nodded, and Rafe saw the tug of a smile on his lips. “I couldn’t agree more, but I’m not the one you need to be telling.”
Rafe was preparing to explain Olive’s reluctance to speak, but the front door creaked and a bluster of laughing, and shrill cries bombarded the house. Lon glanced toward the front door when Lily stepped in, a fussing Brin in her arms. Lily paused until August shoved in next to her, the folded stroller in his hand.
“You okay, Mama?” August asked, holding open the storm door.
“I’m fine. Who’s here in that fancy car?”
Lily’s eyes were wide at Rafe, but she pointed her grin toward Lon who waved easily before she rushed to give him a tight squeeze.
August turned around, his eyes flashing in surprise for half a second before he laughed. Lon stood and smiled. “August, glad to see you back,” Lon boomed. August checked to make sure Millie was in safely before rushing to shake Lon’s hand.
“Good to see you, sir. You giving Rafe a piece of your mind?”
Lon chuckled, glancing at Rafe. “A small piece. Millie, look at you—you’re even prettier than the last time I saw you.
Millie laughed loudly, squeezing Lon’s waist as he offered a firm side-hug. “Well, last time you saw me I was drooling out one side of my mouth.”
Lon shook his head, releasing her so she could sit on the couch next to Rafe. He clapped his hands together and smiled. “Well, I’ll be getting out of your way. You give some thought to what I said, Rafe.”
“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Mr. Cutler,” Lily said, now Brin was calming once she was sucking a pacifier like it was her source of life.
“Thank you, but I have a boring business dinner I’m due at in an hour, and I best change first. Look at this girl. You two do good work,” Lon said and tickled Brin’s little arm with a grin. “Y’all come up to the house sometime before you head on back though. We’ll never forgive you if you don’t.”
August laughed. “Yes, sir.”
Rafe rose from the couch and walked to the door with Lon. They shook hands, it was firm and direct. “Thank you, Lon.”
Lon clapped Rafe’s shoulder. “You’ve got people on your side, Rafe. Don’t forget it. Bye, now.”
Everyone waved, but fell silent the second the front door closed again. Rafe avoided any gazes until he returned to the sofa. August cleared his throat, taking Brin from Lily’s arms. “You going to let us know what that was all about?”
Rafe stared outside the window, his fingers tapping over his thighs. Turning his head he met his brother’s eye. “I need to go.”
“Where are you going?’ Lily called out as he moved toward the kitchen to grab his keys.
Rafe poked his head around the edge of the wall. “I’m going to talk to Olive.”
He didn’t miss the way his mother beamed.
“She’s at the Big House,” August muttered.
“What?”
August patted Brin’s back and took Rafe’s seat on the couch. “Oh, we saw her at the battery. She’s at the Big House. Don’t screw it up, Rafe or Mama won’t let you back inside.”
Millie nodded, but didn’t say anything. Rafe sucked in a deep breath before rushing to the side door. “I’ll be back.”
***
Seeing August and Lily had been both delightful and pure anguish. She wanted to be with the Whitfields now, enjoying each other and laughing. She wanted to cuddle Brin, while she held Rafe’s hand. Olive allowed herself to hope that Rafe might have called after speaking with August. Her phone was nearly drained of life, and still silent at her side.
Olive left Jace with Dot and decided to come spend dinner with her mother. She knew Daddy was at a business dinner, and it had been nice to eat simple sandwiches as the ladies of the house. Olive supposed there was one good thing that came from this entire experience. She was talking to her mother. Sharing ideas, even dropping manners and laughing too loud sometimes. After a few ladies stopped by to gossip and drink tea, Olive excused herself and loitered around the magical oak tree before settling along the creek.
She embraced the trickle of the water, remembering so many special moments she’d had by the bank. Everything of note included Rafe. The creek didn’t bring her joy tonight, it brought stubborn tears instead. Olive hugged her knees against her chest, burying her face in the tops. She cried, for the hundredth time that week, Olive let out the earnest ache of her heart when no one was watching.
She wasn’t certain how long she’d cried. Her eyes felt swollen, and her lungs burned when the deep, soft, baritone startled her to attention.
“Whoever made you cry, princess, I hope you slap him straight.”
Olive pinched her face tight, gasping for more air in her screeching lungs. With caution she glanced over her shoulder. Rafe’s face was pained when his beautiful blue eyes locked on her in the twilight. His hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants, and the black T-shirt pulled against the strength of his arms in a way that caused Olive’s mouth to water.
“I want to slap him,” she muttered, turning her head back toward the creek.
Rafe drew in a deep breath as he sat next to her with apprehension. “Ollie,” he whispered. “I need to talk to you.”
She glared at him, unashamed that her eyes glistened with moisture the longer she held his gaze. “I don’t know if I want to talk to you.”
Olive initiated her attempt to leave, but stopped when Rafe’s grip wrapped around her wrist. “Ol, please.”
“What do you want to say?” she croaked. “What more could you say?”
Rafe tugged her back to the grass, his perfect arm wrapping tight around her waist. Olive lost all her function to remain indifferent toward the man. She breathed in his woodsy skin like an addiction she couldn’t shake. Rafe tipped her chin up with his thumb. “I love you. That’s what I need to say before anything else.” Olive imagined she might crumble in a mushy mess when his voice caught in the back of his throat. “I love you, and I’m an idiot, Olive.”
Olive tugged away, though she was secretly grateful Rafe strengthened his hold on her body. She didn’t want to return to the emptiness outside his embrace. “Love isn’t enough if we can’t get beyond our backgrounds, Rafe.”
“I can, Ollie.”
She scoffed, tucking her hair behind her ear and shaking her head. “You’ve said that before.”
“Olive,” his fierce voice broke through the dim evening. “I want you.” She faced him cautiously, her bottom lip trembling despite her effort to stop. Rafe swallowed, his calloused, safe palm cupping her cheek. “I want you, and only you. I love that you’re a teacher. I love that you have diamond earrings.” He scooted closer so
those parted lips were only inches away. “I love that you know every bit of dinner etiquette, but could spend hours digging for shells in the mud. You loved me for being me, and I took your right to keep doing it away. You’re right, I was a coward, Ollie. In my mind you deserve someone so much better than me.” Olive made an attempt to shake her head from his grip, but his second hand trapped her face and she met his soft gaze with new tears welling. “It’s because I love you I think those things, but I’m not going to be a coward, Ol. I could live five lifetimes and still think I could never deserve you, but I don’t want to stop trying.”
Olive closed her eyes, resting her forehead against Rafe’s warm skin. His hands brushed over her face. She shuddered when his fingertips trailed through her hair and around her neck. “What are you saying, Rafe?”
“I’m asking if you’ll forgive me,” he whispered. “Forgive me and let me try to deserve you every day. I’m asking you to tell me it’s not too late. But most of all I’m telling you I love you—so much that I can’t breathe right now. I’ve loved you for all my life.”
“What happens if the budget is tight, Rafe? Are you going to throw in how I should have chosen someone else?”
He grinned and shook his head. “No. We’ll eat pancakes instead of steak.”
She dared chuckle under her breath. “When you hear someone talking about what a poor match we are, will you sulk for days, complaining about how I deserve someone better?”
He tilted his head. “I don’t sulk, but no, I won’t. Are you going to make me agree to every possible scenario or are you going to let me kiss you?”
“Well, I don’t know, are you—”
Rafe swallowed her gasp when he kissed her. It wasn’t like the first passionate kiss by the creek. It wasn’t the same as the kiss in her apartment. This kiss spoke of forever. Rafe’s hand clutched the back of her head and urged her lips firmer against his mouth as if the idea of breaking apart meant the end of his existence. Olive tried to stiffen, but after a few breathless seconds, she melted against his body. Circling her arms around his neck, she pressed every inch of her figure against his strong form.
Olive’s legs were tangled around Rafe’s hips when he finally broke away. Grinning in a way that threaded her soul to his, he brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
She smiled against his mouth. “You’re lucky I love you senseless, Rafe Whitfield. I never take men back.”
He chuckled. “I know, Ol. I’m not going anywhere so you don’t need to worry about that again.”
She smiled embracing his body again. She pressed a meaningful kiss to his lips. “I love you, Rafe. You’ve always had my heart and in my eyes, no one deserves it more than you. Never doubt that again.”
“I won’t, princess. You’re it for me, and you’ve got me forever.”
Olive soaked up every kiss, every touch, until the mosquitoes starting a war by the water forced them to take cover. She slid next to him in the front seat of his truck as they drove toward her apartment. Holding Rafe, loving him, giving every ounce of her heart, was deeper than anything she’d ever experienced. Like they’d been separated for years, and their true hearts collided, Olive smiled against his body knowing she would always love Rafe Whitfield. Nothing could ever tell her that wasn’t a beautiful thing.
Chapter 22
Olive loved her job—no, it wasn’t a job—it was a passion. That didn’t mean she wasn’t looking forward to the long Labor Day weekend. The school was muggy, and the beach had been calling her name through the week as she looked forward to releasing her little loves to spend a few days away from addition and coloring by the numbers.
This was an important weekend too. Olive found the move bittersweet. Millie was strong and ready to gain her independence again, that was the sweet part. The bitter, Olive enjoyed having Millie around whenever she spent her days and nights at Rafe’s house. Soon enough Olive knew it would be their house.
Millie’s new condo was perfect. It was close to August’s townhome, only seven miles from Rafe, one level, with enough space Millie assured her family she would be able to host plenty of granddaughter sleepovers when Brin was old enough..
Dating Rafe Whitfield had been a delicious whirlwind through the summer. The truth of his last name and upbringing had ruffled a few feathers when ladies who’d come to all the fake engagement parties found out. Even more, when it was discovered he wasn’t a Louisiana businessman, and in fact a mechanic by day, an engineering student by night. Olive imagined the shame would cause her mother to resent her decision to love the man—on the contrary. Bernadette grit her teeth, accepted the chastisement from the harping women, and then chuckled about it over dinner with her family, Rafe included, on the weekends. It seemed her mother had learned to let live in a way. She was still elegant, still the queen of the house, but Olive had shared more lazy days on the veranda with Bernadette through the summer than she had in her entire life. It was as if they’d all found a new path to live and enjoy life, and Olive would never take the old way again.
Olive knew there would always be those who looked down their noses at them. Beau sniffed and seemed to talk through his teeth whenever there was an extended family dinner. Served him right—Olive was still struggling to forgive him for his meddling by bringing Dalia out to the bridal shower. Rafe often told her it didn’t matter, but it did somehow. She’d forgive her snob of a cousin someday, but for now she’d let him squirm a little with every kiss she gave and every touch Rafe offered.
Olive snickered as she shoved through the front doors of the school, remembering one of the more gratifying moments of the summer. Catching sight of newly engaged Tom and Eloise. Olive had hid her face in Rafe’s shoulder to keep from laughing. Eloise has been shouting at him for not listening as they argued about where to eat—fierce and feral—both seething at the other with distaste. Tom had caught sight of Olive, leaning against Rafe’s shoulder, with his arm nestled perfect and needed around her waist. If looks could kill, Olive and Rafe would have been scraped off the pavement in body bags. Tom hadn’t said a word, but stalked faster down the walk, with added frustration pointed at Eloise. They deserved each other.
Olive jerked to a stop when she rounded the corner. Her classroom was tucked at the back of the hall and there against the wall waited a gaggle of six-year-olds with bright faces. Placing her hands on her hips she chuckled. “Now, I’m either late, or y’all are as ready to get this day started as me. Because we know when it’s over…” she widened her eyes and several of her students clapped. “No school tomorrow!”
Now their excitement echoed down the corridor. Olive chuckled. Most of the parents were working families where both parents had jobs. Odds were some had gone in early to leave for the long weekend at a decent hour. “Well, y’all can go on down to the auditorium, breakfast is just cleaning up, or we can have some extra reading time while I get ready. Your choice.”
One little girl snickered. “Reading time, Miss Cutler.”
Olive shrugged. “I love reading time, but y’all will keep your inside voices, right?” Every child nodded, some with enough vigor pigtails slapped their foreheads. “Alright, follow me and take your seats quietly.”
Olive opened the door to her classroom amidst giggles and whispers. She peered at the strange behavior of the class until she was overwhelmed with a fragrant aroma of roses and sand. Olive gasped and covered her mouth. The floor was littered in red, pink, yellow, white, even blue rose petals.
She laughed, her eyes welling with tears as she saw the garland of shells in the mix until her eyes locked on the man standing near her desk. Rafe shuffled his feet, but took her breath away with a mind-numbing smile. It didn’t help that he was dressed and pressed in a collared blue shirt and slacks that hugged his strong legs causing her urge to attack the man’s mouth difficult to ignore. “What exactly is going on here, love?”
Rafe flushed, but his brilliant blues beckoned her closer. “I wanted to see you.�
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Olive’s voice caught in her throat when a few teachers filled in behind the students. She inched closer to Rafe, glancing at the shells and petals. “This seems a little familiar.”
He nodded. “There was a story you told once; I liked the way it ended. So, I thought—why not recreate it? Although, you don’t have a closet so I improvised and had a little help from the kids and staff.”
Olive’s skin trembled with a fiery pleasure when his hands brushed along her shoulders, one strong arm reaching around her waist and tugging her close so their faces were inches apart. Her palm brushed over his cheek as she beamed. “Well, how does this one end?”
Rafe kissed her softly, his smile blazing a fire behind every major organ in her body. “That will be up to you, princess.”
With a gentle ease, Rafe turned Olive around to face the open door. She laughed through burning tears as a few fellow teachers helped her students hold up square cardstock with individual letters, until the line spelled out the question she’d awaited all summer. Olive wiped her eyes, facing Rafe once more. He reached for one hand as he lowered to his knee, smiling the entire way.
“Ollie,” he croaked, clearing his throat before going on. “I love you. You’re my best-friend, and you make me a better man. I’m making good on that five-year-old boy’s promise to marry you. If you would say yes to being my wife, Olive Cutler, I can’t imagine anything would make me happier.”
Olive beamed when Rafe held up his grandmother’s ring. Once a symbol of a fake engagement, now Olive couldn’t imagine wanting anything to be more real and lasting. She nodded, her chin quivering as she spoke.
She heard a few children muttering yes, causing the teachers to shush them as Olive squeezed Rafe’s hand tight.
“Yes, Rafe. I would marry you yesterday if I could. Having you would make me the luckiest woman alive.”