Butterfly Cove (24 page)

“You stole a pack of Cokes off a truck at the loading dock. I know all about that. It wasn’t important.”

“I’d broken some windows, too.” Rafe cleared his throat, but the bad memories weren’t so easy to shake off. “I was very stupid then, Livie. I needed someone to knock sense into me. The second time I got into trouble, it was the real deal. That car we drove had been used in an armed robbery that very morning. And that meant all of us were suddenly accessories in a felony.”

“But
you
didn’t know that.”

“The police didn’t see it that way. And your father, who happened to be the mayor, didn’t see it that way either. He came to see me in jail and told me he had a solution. I wouldn’t do time and he’d keep my record clean. In return, I was going straight to Portland. I would stay there for a month until I turned eighteen. Then I was going right into the Marines. I wasn’t to come back to Summer Island or to try to contact you. That was the deal, Livie. I was angry and I was frightened and I was stupid. So I said yes.”

Rafe had expected her to flinch or be angry. What he didn’t expect was her sigh. She slid her fingers through his. “So
that’s
what happened. That’s why you didn’t come that night and why you never called me,” she whispered.

“I couldn’t. If I did, your father said I would go right to jail. My friends would go there, too. So I did just what he said. I hated the way it would hurt you, but I did it anyway. I was a kid and I was stupid.”

“He didn’t give you much choice. At least I know the details now. My father seemed so happy that whole year. He was smug. I understand why. He had managed to separate the two of us.” Olivia turned and picked up the one framed picture of her father on her nightstand. She frowned at it for a long time and then turned it over, leaving it facedown on the table. “He didn’t want me to be happy. He didn’t want me to be strong or confident or curious. Then I might leave and have a life without him. He couldn’t accept that possibility,” she said coldly. “If there was a meeting or a party or an interview, he told me to stay in the back and be quiet. He told me no one wanted to hear what I thought because what I thought didn’t matter to anyone. He said that my only value was as his daughter. There, I said it. I never told anyone that before.” Her voice shook. “And you know what the worst part is? After a while, I believed him.”

Rafe looked down, furious. How could any father say something like that to his own child?

“He didn’t care about me. He wanted to be powerful and have people do what he told them. I think he was afraid of letting anyone get close to him. Maybe the only way he could was...by giving up his control the way he did in that video.” Olivia stared at the pictures, at the one picture turned facedown. “I’m glad you told me, Rafe. It was a terrible choice that you had to make. And it sounds exactly like something my father would do. If you had told me then, I would have run away, Rafe. I would have gone anywhere you wanted and never looked back.”

“You were fifteen, Livie. I was broke and in trouble. What kind of life could I have given you then? You would have ended up pregnant and I’d have landed in jail.” Rafe’s voice was harsh as he turned their linked hands over and then raised her palm to his lips. “No, your father was right that time. I needed to go away and become a man. You needed to stay here on the island and find someone who could make you happy.”

“But I didn’t find anyone. Not once.” Olivia’s eyes glistened. “Not until now. And we’ve both grown up, Rafe. We can handle hard choices when we need to.” She took a deep breath and then smiled at him. “I think it’s about time we got this thing right.”

Her fingers tightened. She pulled him toward her.

Her breathing was fast and Rafe felt the heat of her skin. He wanted to give her more time. He wanted her to be clear when she chose whatever came next. He didn’t want the shadows of her father’s choices to hang over their lives any longer.

But it appeared that Olivia was as stubborn as ever. She slid her hands over his shoulders. “This is my choice. I want you in my life and beside me on this bed. Touch me, Rafe. I’m ready for whatever happens next. My father is not going to ruin this.”

Rafe was pretty sure there were a lot of reasons that he should stand up and walk out of the room.

But his heart wasn’t in it.

His heart was right here, with Olivia. So he slid down over her, feeling her instant response. And Rafe let his heart lead for once instead of his mind, while Livie matched him heartbeat for heartbeat, need to need, so fierce and honest that she broke his heart.

And then she made it whole again when she took him deep inside her. Rafe followed, and he didn’t look back.
You can’t stop trusting and you can’t forget your dreams,
he thought. And this was the only dream that had ever mattered. For a long time the Marines had been his home. He had made his closest friendships there and had learned how to become a man amid the dust and the gunfire and the fear.

Now Rafe left behind his pain and regrets and replaced them with all the pent-up passion of a decade, watching Olivia shiver, her eyes hazed with shock and delight at the hot touch of his mouth and his tongue.

He took her there in the silent house, feeling the weight of hard memories burn away into brighter dreams, while the last sunlight brushed the winding streets and glinted over the old coast road.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

F
OR A LONG
time Rafe simply watched Olivia sleep.

When she twisted restlessly, he ran a hand over her forehead until she sighed and drifted back down into dreams. Even asleep, she curled toward him, searching for his warmth.

Rafe felt something slide in beneath his distance and his cynicism. The thing felt fragile and raw, newly sprouted. He was pretty sure it was a sense of peace and security and homecoming, the first time he had felt those things in his troubled life.

He stood up carefully. He found his clothes, dressed and padded down the stairs. He was pretty sure he had a crooked grin on his face.

She was going to be ravenous when she woke up, and Rafe had the answer for that. Chipotle macaroni and cheese with roasted poblano guacamole and freshly fried corn chips.

Jilly was a master chef, but Rafe had his own skills. He had made enough money to survive during those weeks before he had joined the Marines, working at little restaurants along the coast where you were always paid in cash.

Down in the kitchen Rafe stood silently, taking in the order of the room. All the tile counters were pristine. Canisters were neatly labeled, and the counters shone. Everything was in its place.

He flipped a dish towel over his bare shoulder and studied the contents of the refrigerator. He hated fast food and he liked the idea of taking care of himself. He was going to enjoy taking care of Olivia now.

The refrigerator was full of food marked with dates and ingredients. Rafe smiled at Olivia’s clear handwriting on the labeled bags.

He rummaged through the well-stocked pantry and then pulled out pasta and spices. He found dried peppers and added them to the pile.

He didn’t indulge in false modesty. His chipotle macaroni and cheese was irresistible, and he was going to love seeing Olivia’s face when she tasted it.

* * *

T
WENTY MINUTES LATER
water was boiling, the cheese was grated and freshly roasted peppers lay on the counter, filling the house with a dark, smoky scent. Rafe took down the good crystal he found in a cabinet, along with blue-and-white china plates and real damask napkins. He set the small table by the big picture window carefully while the pasta cooked. In a cabinet near the pantry he found a merlot that would stand up perfectly against the heat of the macaroni and cheese.

He stiffened as a shadow crossed the front porch. A key jangled at the front door. Rafe drew back into the pantry so he couldn’t be seen.

The front door opened. “Livie, are you home?” The shadow formed into Jilly, who strode through the foyer and stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. She frowned at Rafe and then eyed the food on the counter. “Are you
cooking?
”

“Why? Is it a capital offense?”

Jilly moved into the room. “The way you do it could be.”

“Do all chefs have an ego the size of Montana or is it just you?”

Jilly smiled at him. “Yes.”

“Livie’s upstairs asleep. She had a tough day.” Rafe turned away to stir the pasta, which had begun to boil.

“You really can cook, can’t you?” Jilly moved closer, looking over his shoulder. “Macaroni and cheese? With roasted poblanos?”

“The poblanos are for the guacamole. I’m using chipotle in the macaroni and cheese.”

“Very nice. I just may steal that.” She leaned back against the counter, scrutinizing Rafe from his bare feet up to his bare chest and tousled hair. “This is interesting. You were here this morning when we arrived. Now you’re cooking in the kitchen, barefoot, as if you own the place. I’m going to take that as a sign that things between you and Olivia are no longer casual. Because if not, you shouldn’t be sleeping with her.”

“Who said that we were—”

“Get real, Rafe. You think I couldn’t tell something like that?” Jilly frowned at him.

Of course she could tell. All Olivia’s friends would be able to tell, Rafe thought grimly. “It’s serious, Jilly.”

“Glad to hear it. It took you two long enough. But I’m only going to say one thing to you. If you hurt Olivia or betray her trust in any way, I’ll kick that hunky ass of yours all the way up the coast road and over to Portland. Is that understood?”

“It’s understood. But I’m not going to hurt her.” Rafe stared hard at Jilly. “Exactly the opposite.”

After a long time Jilly nodded. “Glad to hear that. It’s about time she had a man to watch her back.”

And then with her usual mercurial change of moods she swung around, studying the ingredients on the counter. “So you really did learn to cook while you were gone. When did this earthshaking event occur?”

“News flash, Iron Chef. We lowly mortals can stumble along in the kitchen when we have to.”

Jilly touched the dishes lined up neatly beside the row of spices that Rafe had assembled. “You can do more than stumble along. Is that your recipe?”

He nodded.

“Okay, now I’m curious. Are you going to share it with me?”

Rafe made a big deal of considering it. “I might. If you share your Mayan cinnamon and chipotle brownie recipe with me.”

Jilly crossed her arms. “I’ll think about it. But that brownie recipe is going to make me a whole lot of money when I get my webstore set up.” Her smile faded. “Not that I’ll be having brownies for a long time.” She stopped abruptly and looked away.

“Why not? What’s going on?”

“Never
mind,
” she muttered. “Forget I said that.”

“Spill the rest of it, Jilly.”

She sighed and paced the kitchen. “I wasn’t going to mention it until tonight. The fact is— Oh, hell. I’m pregnant, Rafe. I just found out. And I’m terrified,” she muttered.

“I don’t understand. You don’t want a baby?”

“Of
course
I want a baby. I’m thrilled and Walker is over the moon at being a father. But I don’t think this baby that we’re making will want
me.
I’m no good at maternal stuff. Nurturing is beyond me. Playdates and birthday parties would terrify me. How could I possibly be a good mother?”

Rafe waved a hand, cutting off her breathless litany of expected failures. “Stow it, Jilly. You’ll be the best mother on Summer Island, you idiot. You’ll have the best Halloween parties and the most exciting sleepovers. You’ll be the cool parents that all the other kids wished they had.”

Jilly brightened considerably. She gave a mock punch to Rafe’s chest. “You’re kidding, right? Wait—if you’re kidding, don’t tell me. Because that’s probably the nicest thing anybody’s ever said.” She frowned and ran a hand through her hair. “And if you’d stop distracting me by being so nice, I would remember to be angry. You two were supposed to come over for dinner, remember? Everybody should be there shortly. They’re expecting you to show up, too. That’s why I came over to see what was going on when you didn’t call. Grace and Noah will only be in town tonight. Then Noah has to go back to San Francisco, and I really want you to meet him.”

“I’ll try, Jilly, but Olivia had a tough day. We found some things out on the boat, and she has got a lot to think through.”

“What kind of things?”

Rafe shrugged. “You can ask her. I know it would be good for Olivia to talk to you about it.”

“It sounds serious.”

“It’s as serious as she’ll let it be. Myself, I think it’s nothing so bad. But I’m not Olivia. I’ve always thought she was a little bit fragile. Now I don’t think she’s fragile at all. I think under that quiet facade, she’s one tough woman. But she needs her friends, so stay close, Jilly. With what’s going on in your life, everything is going to change. You four always watched out for each other. You’re going to have to do that now more than ever,” Rafe said slowly.

There was a movement behind them in the doorway. Olivia stood in her nightgown, a long knitted shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Even fresh from sleep, with her hair tumbled around her shoulders, she looked elegant and sexy as hell, Rafe thought.

“I hope we didn’t wake you up,” Jilly said quickly. “I was worried when you didn’t call, since I expected you two for dinner tonight. Grace and Noah are already there. Caro and her grandmother came, too, along with the baby. But if you don’t feel up to coming...” Jilly let the words trail away.

“I’m really sorry, Jilly. I forgot all about it.” Olivia slanted a look at Rafe. “Did you tell her?”

Rafe shook his head.

“You wouldn’t. You’re honorable that way.” She walked slowly across the room. “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much,” she said quietly. And then she rose to her toes and kissed Rafe slowly.

When she turned around, Jilly’s eyebrow rose. “If you two lovebirds can manage to get dressed and finish your dinner, we’ll expect you at the Harbor house for dessert. In one hour.”