by Emily Childs
Another rarity—my mother grins. “Well, putting an age on things is ridiculous. That’s all.”
“Oh, there’s good news,” I say, taking her hand. “Rafe found out today that Millie is coming home next week.”
“Wonderful news.” She means it too. “Millie is certainly losing her mind staying cooped up all day.”
“She’s starting to get a little bossy with the staff,” Rafe says.
Mama chuckles. Weird. “Well, give her our best, will you?”
“I will, ma’am.”
“Right.” Pretenses return. “Enjoy yourselves. I should go to your father now before Mr. Barrett drags him to each painting.”
I glance at Rafe. “Not so bad.”
He shakes his head. “That guy is an idiot.”
“I think even mama would agree with you.”
Rafe holds my hand as we study abstract clay statues, splattered canvases. Most I can’t grasp the vision of the project. I’m about to suggest my thoughts on some spherical, oblong sculpture, but words fade. I lock eyes with the woman across the room and feel my temper flare. “Let’s go, Rafe.”
He follows my glare, and when he sees her, adds his own.
“Ollie, wait,” she calls. “Olive, please.”
Reeling around, I’m desperate to keep my voice steady. I don’t want to embarrass my father, but she’s infuriating. “What do you want, Eloise? No, you can’t have this guy too.” I squeeze Rafe’s arm.
“I was coming to apologize,” Eloise insists. “Don’t throw a hissy fit.”
“A fit.” I feel like I’m spinning when I turn to Rafe. “Everyone thinks I throw fits. I think cheating denotes a few fits, don’t you, Rafe?”
“Come on, Ollie, let’s go,” he grumbles, still glaring at Eloise.
“Olive, it was a mistake. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Tom was having some nerves, and I was listening. It just happened. He regretted it. We both did.”
“Yeah, because y’all got caught.”
Eloise frowns her Botox lips. “You can’t say you’re too torn up when you already have a new fiancé in less than a month. So, I don’t need your judgment.”
“You’re right, Eloise,” I say, sickly-sweet. “I found a real man. Doesn’t mean I don’t find your lack of responsibility for what you and Tom did disgraceful. And frankly, I’d rather not talk about it anymore. Have a beautiful night, we certainly will.”
Outside, Rafe tilts my chin up. “You okay?”
“No. I don’t care that I’m not with Tom, but those things I said to Eloise were still a lie. I’m just as pathetic as they are—pretending through all this. You know how this story ends. Everyone in that room knowing a man stepped out on me, and the fantasy life will end.”
“Ol, we can stop now. We don’t need to keep doing this.”
“I made an agreement, Rafe. I follow through with what I say. Sorry for spouting off. Seeing Eloise could have been something I’d gone without tonight.”
He laughs. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“We’re stopping at my place first so I can get out of these blasted heels then.”
“I’ll follow you, Miss Cutler.”
It’s a relief to leave the gallery. We appeased our agreement to be seen in public as lovers, I’d confronted Eloise, and now I plan to dress down and enjoy the night.
At my building, I jog to the front doors, anxious to get into some reasonable shoes.
“Olive.”
My blood goes cold. My heels cease clicking as I freeze. I turn slowly. “Tom. What do you think you’re doing here?”
Tom’s lips are set, his eyes darker than I remember. “I got a call from Eloise that she’d seen you. Funny thing is she said you weren’t alone.”
His voice is threatening. Dark and rigid. I back away. “Get out of here, Tom. You don’t get a say in my life anymore.”
I cry out when he takes hold of my arm, his fingertips digging into my skin.
Tom shakes me and seethes through his teeth. “Whitfield! You trade me and take Whitfield? I knew you were stupid Olive, I just never thought you rolled with garbage.”
I try to shake him off, but he tightens his grip. “Get your hands off me, Thomas. You’re hurting me.”
“No,” he snaps. “Not until I put some sense in that head. You’re going to listen, Olive, and you’ll listen good.”
Chapter 16
Rafe
My heart has been in my ears since Olive shouted at Eloise. She never denied me, even complimented me as a real man. She got defensive of me.
I park in the visitor stall going through what all of it means, and settle on me being the fool in all this. What sort of man would let a woman like Olive slip away because something other people said?
Not anymore.
I smile when I step out of the truck, but it’s gone in an instant. My eyes snap to the building when I hear Olive’s angry voice. My blood heats like an electric current floods my veins.
Tom Abernathy has both hands on Olive’s arms. He shoves her back against the building. Everything shades red when I watch Olive slap his face, only to have Tom slam her again on the brick, blocking her with his body, shouting in her face.
It takes no time to sprint across the parking lot, to wrench Tom’s shirt, and tear him off her. He stumbles back on the grass.
“You touch her again, and I’ll make sure you don’t get up.” Olive is crying and rubbing her arms. Her tears fuel my anger more.
“You must be pretty proud, Whitfield,” Tom snarls as he stands. “You convinced the Cutlers to see past what you are. Nothing, that’s exactly what you are, son. You could have more than any of us, but your daddy saw you were a nobody. A one-night stand.”
I take an aggressive step toward Tom, but stop when Olive takes my arm.
Tom laughs. “You know what. Take her.” He steps right up to my face. “She doesn’t put out, anyway.”
I shove Tom back, but stop when Olive clings to my arm, begging me to stop.
“Rafe,” she begs “Let’s go inside. He’ll use it against you. Leave him or you’ll get in trouble. Rafe, look at me.”
I obey, my eyes burning when she brushes a hand over my cheek.
“Think of Millie. Don’t do anything stupid, she needs you. Let’s go.”
My skin feels like it might split when I turn back to Tom. “If I see you around Olive again, nothing will stop me. Understand?”
I don’t hear his retort before the glass doors shut behind us. I’m a stone, hard and cold, in the elevator. Every sniffle from Olive, breaking me a little more. I rage in silence all the way into her apartment.
Olive’s voice was soft and quivers. “I’m going to change.”
I have a thousand things I want to say. I say nothing.
I scrub my face, the need to stand for Olive, defend her, boils in my brain. I kick the wall. I don’t care anymore. There isn’t anything more powerful than this frenzy. I love Olive. Head-over-heels, stupid in love with Olive Cutler.
She returns a moment later in a baggy T-shirt and yoga leggings. Her eyes are wet and red. Tom shouted awful things at her. I probably only heard half. She hesitates, but I don’t. In half a second I’m across the room, and she’s in my arms. She buries her face against my chest.
I draw my fingers along the raised welts on her biceps. “I’m going to kill him.”
“I’m fine, Rafe.”
“No, there’s nothing fine about this,” I say and release her. I take to pacing with heavy, furious steps. “You’re going to tell your daddy about this, or I will. I have half a mind to go and finish that idiot off right now.”
Olive wipes her cheeks. “Why?”
I stop, fists tight. “Why? He could have really hurt you, Olive.”
She turns her back on me. “That’s not what I meant. You’re like a madman, Rafe. You care so much, but why? Is it like some big brother thing you’ve got with me because it’s not like I’m your girl.”
Oh no. No
, she is not thinking this way. I cross the room. Olive sucks in a sharp breath when she turns around and I’m there, my palms resting against the wall on either side of her head. “There is no reality where I think of you as a sister.”
She gently pushes me back. “You stand there letting others dictate what we do. Make me think you want me, but then do nothing. It’s cowardly. If you don’t want me, then just be a man and say so. But don’t come in here in a huff, making me believe you feel as deep as I do.”
A sob bursts from her throat. Every inch of me is on fire when I trap her face between my hands. “You think I don’t want you? I want you so much I can’t see straight. When I was fourteen, I’d do just about anything to kiss you, Ollie.” I draw my mouth across her jawline, loving the way she shudders. “Then when I was sixteen, I’d get crazy jealous whenever some guy took you out.”
Olive closes her eyes as my lips seal around the shell of her ear. I kiss her there. Once, maybe three times.
“You’ve always been the one I want,” I say breathlessly. “Everything about you sends my head spinning. Your laugh, your smile, your sweetness. Your body. Olive, you don’t know how hard I fight to ignore this . . . passion I feel inside whenever you’re around.”
She curls her fingers around my shirt. “Stop fighting, Rafe.”
“Maybe I am,” I tell her, low and raw. “Maybe I don’t care anymore. Maybe being with you, having you, is the only thing I care about.”
“I’m in this, Rafe,” she whispers. “But I don’t want you to have regrets.”
And at that I crush my mouth to hers. She groans and drags me to her, wrapping her arms around my neck. I kiss her. Hard. Thorough. Not a friendly kiss. A lover’s kiss. Nothing is sweeter than Olive, nothing ignites the feeling of being alive the way her fingers slip beneath my collar, touching my skin. I tangle her hair in my hands. I kiss her lips, her neck, her shoulder. Back to her mouth, until slowly, I take a breath and pull back. “You could never be a regret, Ol.”
She has tears in her eyes, but she laughs and kisses me again. And kisses me. And kisses me.
Chapter 17
Olive
The wood flooring in Rafe’s hallway creaks. I smile when I peek around the corner and see him still asleep on the couch. Gray dawn spills into the room as I lean over the rounded back of the sofa, my hair spills over his cheek and stirs him awake. I rest my chin on the tops of my hands and smile at him. Perfect and handsome.
He grins back and touches his fingers to my cheek. I replay every detail of last night. Rafe insisted I stay with him since Thomas was still out there, raging. Sleeping on the couch had been a mutual agreement. Taking things slow as we tread into new territory seems the wisest choice.
“I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to wake up to your face,” he says.
I round the couch, and nestle next to him, resting my head against his shoulder. “And? What’s the verdict?”
Rafe kisses me softly, smiling against my lips. “Better than I imagined.”
He rolls onto his back, and I adjust so I can prop my chin on the center of his chest. “I want you, Rafe Whitfield.” He runs slow, gentle fingers through my hair. I kiss the spot over his heart. “Where do we go from here?”
“Where do you want to go, princess?”
“I want to be with you.”
“You’re willing to accept what that could mean?”
I trace the line of his lips. “No one has ever made me to feel the way you do. I know because you’ve been making me feel this way since I lost my first tooth.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, drawing his mouth to mine for a quick peck. “Ollie, I can’t go back. I’m in this too. Just be patient with me, I still have the same worries.”
“People might not understand, Rafe. They might even tell us we’re fools, but I need you to hear me—it doesn’t matter. I would live in a cardboard box with you.”
He rolls his eyes. “You would not.”
“Would to. Though, I would insist on bringing my pearls. It’s still important to look nice, even in a box.”
He pinches my sides until I’m shrieking, then rolls so he’s hovering over me, my leg wrapped with his. He brushes back my hair and kisses my nose. “You’ve got me, Ollie.”
This doesn’t seem real, to be here with Rafe Whitfield, admitting we’re together.
After a few more kisses, Rafe sits up. “I think you should tell your parents what happened, though.”
“I’ll call them,” I promise. “But you need to promise me that’s where it ends. Don’t go all macho and hunt Tom down. Understand?”
Rafe pretends to pout. “Fine. I won’t bloody his face, even if he deserves it.”
“Good. Now, let’s get breakfast, boyfriend. I’m hungry.”
He pauses, a preoccupied grin on his face. “I like that, Ol. I like the sound of that a lot.”
One night turns to two, until I finally convince Rafe I won’t be kidnapped if he lets me return to my own apartment.
“Ollie,” Dot says Monday morning. She’s called five times, so I figure the drive to school is a good time to get back. “What happened? I heard all kinds of things. Everyone is talking that Tom found out about Rafe and he was fit to blow through the roof. Has he called you?”
“Dottie, slow down,” I say. “Tom showed up at my apartment and he turned into a bear.” I let her have every juicy detail because Dot is the kind who lives for juicy details.
“Mylanta!” she says. “Rafe should’ve torn his arms off.”
“He nearly did, I think.”
“I went to your place the next morning and you weren’t there. I started to worry, especially when you didn’t answer.”
“Oh, I’ve been at Rafe’s.” I say it slowly, as if that’ll help ease her into the idea.
“Come again?”
I can practically hear the smile in her voice. “I stayed at Rafe’s.”
“Oh that’s what I thought you said. Good to know. Okay bye.” She snorts. “What are you thinking, girl! Don’t say it all casual. Tell me everything.”
I laugh, but bite my bottom lip. The idea of what happened over the weekend is heady like I’ve had too much to drink. I can’t get enough.
“Dottie,” I say. “I think we’re together. For real.”
Dot whoops. “I told you. I knew it. Just knew it. Oh, I can’t wait to tell Sawyer. Speaking of the devil, he hasn’t called me in almost two days. I know he’s traveling, but still. I’m about to call his mother to see if he’s alive.”
“I’m sure he’s just being the hardcore hostile takeover tycoon he is.”
“Probably.” Dot sighs. “Ollie, I’m so happy for you.”
“Really?”
“Of course. I know I haven’t always been a piece of humble pie, well, I’ve been downright snobbish, but Rafe is a catch. Y’all are great together. Truly.”
“Thanks, Dottie,” I say. A lump builds in my throat.
“What did your parents say?”
“Oh. Haven’t really mentioned it yet.”
Dot is quiet for a moment before she scoffs. “Well, don’t think about it too much. It’ll be fine, and if it’s not, you have me behind you.”
I smile and thank her again before ending the call to start the school day. I can’t help smiling. I’m with Rafe. Dot is behind us. Millie is behind us. We have people who care.
But most of all . . . I’m with Rafe!
I don’t think I stop smiling all day long.
Chapter 18
Rafe
Zac eyes me carefully while he pops a potato chip into his mouth. Once more Zac’s chin is dark with scruff.
“What are you looking at?” I ask and toss the rest of my sandwich in the trash.
“What’s up with you? You’ve been smiling all day.”
“I have not, and what’s up with you? Your beard is back. How does Callie feel about that?”
Zac rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath. “Do
es it look like I care? I like my beard, so I’m growing my beard.”
“Touchy. Meeting the parents didn’t go well, I’m guessing.”
“The parents were fine,” Zac says. “It was Callie’s constant nagging at the things I wasn’t doing right that nearly drove me to the nut house. ‘Make sure you shake hands firmly.’ ‘Say thank you for the meal.’ ‘Why did you wear the blue shirt when I said my mama’s favorite color is yellow?’ You get the idea.”
“No wedding then?”
“Definitely no wedding. So, what’s going on, Rafe? Did the thing with the Cutlers go extra good or what?”
I pick up some of my tools when we head back to the shop, the other guys are digging into the heart of a Camaro.
“The Cutlers went . . .” I think about the right way to say it. “It went great.”
“You’re an idiot. Spit it out, what’s got you walking on sunshine?”
We’re doing this. I want this and want people to know. Doesn’t mean my gut isn’t turning with nerves. “Uh, Olive might have . . . stayed over this weekend.”
Zac’s eyes pop, but he smiles. “You dirtbag. Are you kidding me? Wait, you’re not calling it quits or anything, right?”
“No way, man.”
“And how are you feeling about the small minds and what they’ll say?”
“I don’t like it,” I admit. “Ollie will probably be the one giving up the most. It grates on me, like what kind of man asks a woman to do that?”
Zac waves away the thought. “The one Olive Cutler has wanted forever. She’s had googly eyes for you as long as I’ve known her. You’re about the same, but too dumb to see it back in high school. Just get ready for it, yeah? She’s a grownup and knows better than both of us the backlash she’ll get.” Zac claps my back before bending down to the tires of a new pickup. “I’m happy for you, Rafe. Really.”
“Thanks.” I’m happy. I can hardly wait for the end of the workday since Olive is coming back to my place to help with the therapist inspection. We have another dinner at the end of the week, but pretending to be in love with Olive isn’t going to be hard. I’m not lying. At all. Well, maybe about the engagement, but if I have my way that’s only a matter of time.