Ever After (Love to the Rescue Book 3) (10 page)

“He loves the ladies.” And what did it say about Pete that he was getting turned on just watching her play with his dog?

She looked at him. “So did you really come out here to meditate?”

“Does it make me less of a man if the answer is yes?”

“Not in my book.” Her expression was equal parts admiration and the same flush of awareness he felt creeping over his own skin.

“Well, I’m failing miserably.”

“Then let’s meditate together. It’s what I came here to do anyway.”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes and breathed in the flowery scent of her hair. Damn if he didn’t feel more relaxed already.

“So I can kind of see why Timber got kicked out of K9 school,” Olivia said from beside him.

He looked over to see his eighty-pound dog still canoodling in her lap. “I think he’s in love.”

Her eyes twinkled with laughter. “Well no offense, Timber, but I prefer men who still have their manhood intact.”

Pete choked. Timber slurped her cheek, undeterred by her attack on his manhood.

“Timber, down.”

The dog slunk out of her lap and gave him the stink-eye.

“I’m not sure he’s all that conducive to meditation,” she said with laughter in her voice.

“I brought him a bone, but he’s finished it. He’s bored.”

“Sorry, Timber, but I don’t know anything about meditation for dogs.” She started rubbing him slowly, head to tail. Timber sprawled out in the dirt with a groan of contentment, tail thumping the dirt, eyes closed.

“And yet, I think he’s just achieved total relaxation.” Pete eyed his dog with more than a bit of jealousy.

“It’s easier for them. They live in the moment.”

“True.”

“So since you have me here, let’s see if we can’t do the same thing for you.”

She spent the next hour doing just that. She worked her magic, banishing every last bit of tension and stress from his body. The truth was, Olivia Bennett was becoming his happy place.

“Thank you,” he said, after he’d opened his eyes. The sun was starting to set again, sending orange and pink hues over the surface of the lake.

“You’re welcome. I usually go to MacArthur Park, but for some reason, I came back here today.” She looked over at him, and he saw the same yearning on her face. She’d come here because she’d been thinking of him.

The same reason he’d come.

This thing between them, it was more than attraction. He wanted her something fierce, wanted to lay her down right here and make love to her until they were sweaty and breathless and sated, but this…just sitting here with her felt intimate.

He’d only ever spent time like this with one other woman. His wife. And things with Rina had ended very, very badly. “After your court date…”

Her eyes heated. “Yes?”

He broke free of her gaze and looked out at the lake. “I’m up for detective at the end of the year.”

“And I make you look bad.”

“You’re a bit…controversial.” And he felt like an ass.

“I’m a troublemaker. I get it.” An edge had crept into her voice, an edge that erased every bit of the relaxation he’d felt a few minutes ago.

“You make trouble where it needs to be made. You’re smart, and passionate, and not afraid to stand up for what you believe in. I admire the hell out of you, Olivia, but the sheriff doesn’t exactly feel the same.”

Olivia fought past the tears pressing at the backs of her eyes. When had she become this person? The type of woman an honorable man like Pete Sampson would be hurting his reputation to be associated with? That’s not who she was, not who she’d meant to be.

She’d only wanted to give a voice to the helpless animals who didn’t have one, to bring light to the plight of factory-farmed animals.

Her mother was right. She was such a screwup.

“I always wanted to be a detective,” Pete said. He was staring out at the lake, avoiding her gaze.

“You don’t sound so sure about that.” She rested a hand on his dog, letting Timber’s thick fur occupy her fingers so that she wouldn’t be tempted to touch the brooding man beside her.

“It’s complicated.”

“Most things in life are.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

“You’ll be a great detective,” she said. “I envy you knowing what you want out of life. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. That’s a scary place to be when you’re twenty-nine years old.”

“You’d be a hell of a lawyer,” he said.

She choked on a laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. You’re smart, passionate, headstrong. You make a damn good argument for your cause, even when your cause sounds completely crazy. You convinced me to meditate, for crying out loud.”

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and sobered. “My parents groomed me to be a lawyer from the time I learned how to talk. It’s the only career they ever considered for me.”

“Really?”

“My dad’s a defense attorney, and my mom works for the prosecutor’s office.”

Pete’s back straightened. “Okay, I knew about your dad, but Marlene Bennett is your mother?”

She nodded. “The one and only.”

“Huh.” He stared out at the lake for a long minute in silence. “So why aren’t you a lawyer?”

“Because I don’t want to be one.”

“Good enough.”

“It should be. Except everyone else—including you—seems to think I’ve missed my calling.” She rested her head on her knees.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what I think, or anybody else. You have to be happy with your work. Life’s too short not to be.”

“And you? Are you happy?”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. “If I’m not, it’s not because I chose to be a deputy.”

“Why is it then?” She was pushing, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to know what caused the dark shadows that haunted the corners of his eyes.

“I made a mistake, and now I have to live with the consequences.”

“Well I know that feeling.” She fisted her hands in Timber’s fur, and the dog rolled closer to her.

“What I did was much worse than spray-painting a chicken factory.” His expression was grim. He carried a tremendous weight of guilt, for what she didn’t know.

“We all make mistakes. It’s what makes us human. I can’t imagine you acted under anything but your own best intentions. Forgive yourself, Pete.”

“Wish I could,” he said. The tortured look on his face ripped at her heart.

She wanted to erase that look from his face. She wanted to make him happy, but the truth was, dating her would only hurt him, hurt his future with the sheriff’s office.

And that was the saddest truth of all.

P
ete chewed meatloaf as Maggie chattered. His little sister had always felt the need to keep the conversation lively at the dinner table. He and his mom weren’t big talkers, which usually meant Maggie kept a running commentary during their weekly family dinners here at Mom’s house.

“So it’s career day next week, and all the kids want to know if you’ll come.” She spooned a mouthful of mashed potatoes into her mouth and gave him her best puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t know—”

“Well of course he will,” his mother said. “Pete, you need to get out more. Do something fun for a change. Be social.”

“Standing in an auditorium full of elementary school kids is not my idea of fun,” he said. And she was one to talk. These last few years, his mother barely left the house other than to run errands. Her job as a medical transcriptionist allowed her to work from home, although it barely paid the bills. Pete and Maggie helped out whenever she’d let them with groceries and projects around the house.

“It’s totally fun,” Maggie said. “You’re Superman to them. Enjoy it while it lasts.” She grinned. Maggie was the art teacher at East Dogwood Elementary. She was also a talented artist who sold hand-painted crafts on Etsy.

“Not fun,” he corrected her. “But for you, I’ll come.”

“Yay! Thank you.” She took a big bite of her meatloaf. Maggie was three years younger than him at twenty-seven. They’d both gotten their father’s dark eyes and hair. Maggie wore hers in a ponytail that made her look much younger.

“Speaking of getting out of the house,” Pete said, turning toward his mom. “Steve Barnes says you haven’t been to church in a while. You should go. I told you he offered to save you a seat.”

His mother looked at him, her brown eyes empty, the way they’d been since his father’s arrest. Maybe even before. “Maybe I’ll go next week.”

“Definitely go next week.” Maggie nodded. “I’ll even go with you.”

Their mother smiled. “I would like that. Thank you.”

Pete crossed his fingers under the table that she would actually go. It was past time for her to move on and start enjoying life again. Maggie was constantly scheming to get their mother out of the house, but this opportunity had just fallen into his lap and seemed like it might actually work.

Speaking of Maggie, she was bent over suspiciously, her back to him. A long black tail protruded from beneath the tablecloth.

“Don’t feed the damn dog from the table,” he said.

“Shush. He likes meatloaf.” She turned sheepishly.

Timber pranced out from under the table, licking his chops, and gave Pete a victorious look.

“Sure he does, but you’re teaching him bad manners. If you have to feed him meatloaf, at least put it in his dog bowl.”

Maggie scowled at him. “You are such a spoilsport.”

He grunted. “I’ve been called worse.”

They finished their meal, and Pete headed home while his mom and Maggie moved into the living room to watch some reality show train wreck they were both addicted to. It was their Thursday tradition.

He couldn’t go for a run after eating meatloaf, so he took Timber for a long walk instead. The dog was hyper, despite a belly full of beef. Sometimes Pete wondered if a dog like Timber needed more attention than he had time to give.

But they’d make it work. He enjoyed the companionship. Enjoyed having someone to come home to. And he didn’t plan on trying marriage again, so he and Timber were just going to have to make do with each other.

A cat streaked across the street ahead of them, and Timber nearly yanked Pete’s arm out of its socket.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make time for a long run before work tomorrow. Deal?” And this time he would stay far the hell away from Jordan Lake.

“Nothing on the car or the house?” Merry asked.

Olivia shifted the phone to her other ear to disentangle a kitten paw from her hair. “I went out and checked again first thing this morning. No spray paint. I think it worked when Pete went out and talked to them.”

“Well I hope so, although I still don’t like you being at home by yourself.”

“Don’t worry. I have Dumb and Dumber here to protect me.” Olivia had been gating Scooby and Bailey downstairs at night, partly so that they could alert her to anyone lurking in the bushes and mainly to keep them from terrorizing Hallie, who had moved into the bedroom with her since she’d come back home.

“That’s a terrible way to talk about Bailey and Scooby,” Merry said. “It’s not Bailey’s fault she’s not all the way potty trained. Her last owners obviously didn’t train her right.”

Or the damn dog just enjoyed peeing in the kitchen. “Well anyway, they’d raise quite a ruckus if anyone came around here again. Scooby’s got a protective streak. I don’t think he’d let anyone hurt me.”

“Gracious, Olivia. Don’t even say that or I’ll make you move back in with us.”

“It was just spray paint. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“I do worry,” Merry said. “But I understand too. If I were in your shoes, I’d probably be doing the same thing.”

Not for the first time, Olivia was grateful that Merry had come into her life. They’d become friends over the summer when they’d worked together at a camp on T.J.’s farm, and now Olivia counted her as one of her best friends.

“I’ll call you later,” she told Merry.

She slid the phone into her back pocket and extracted Hallie from her hair, only to have a kitten attached to her wrist, biting and kicking for all she was worth. “Ouch. You’re a little rabid this morning, aren’t you?”

Hallie purred as she continued her attack, a lovable little rogue.

Olivia pried herself free and went downstairs to deal with the dogs. They were hyper and annoyed at having to spend the night downstairs by themselves, so since she had a few hours before work, she took them for a run.

It was chilly today, finally starting to feel like October. Many of her neighbors had put Halloween decorations out, pumpkins on their front porches, big fake spider webs across their doorways. One even had a giant inflatable witch hooked up. Bailey barked at it as they passed.

As they rounded the final corner and her little gray house came into view, Olivia stumbled. A Dogwood County Sheriff’s cruiser was parked out front. She slowed to a walk, resisting as the dogs tugged her forward. What now?

Pete got out of the cruiser and stood facing her, wearing his unreadable cop face. A different man than the one she’d found at Jordan Lake the other night. “Where were you last night?”

“Here at home. Why?” She stopped in her tracks, her stomach clenching uncomfortably. Had there been more vandalism? She glanced over at her house and car but saw nothing out of place.

“You been out to Frank Holloway’s farm recently?”

“Um, no.” And she was starting to get a bad feeling about the direction this conversation had taken.

“Mind if I take a look in your car?”

“Knock yourself out.” Now she was really getting pissed because he sounded like he was about to accuse her of a crime…and this time she was
not
guilty.

He walked around the Prius, looking at her tires, then popped the trunk and poked through its contents, which was slightly embarrassing because—as she was reminded when she saw him lifting it up—she’d left a big pack of toilet paper in there after her last trip to the grocery store.

“What the hell’s going on?” she demanded.

He turned toward her, his expression somewhat softer. “Someone spray-painted a bunch of Holloway’s cows last night.”

“Spray-painted cows?” she sputtered. “Why would anyone—wait, you think
I
did it?” Her stomach flip-flopped as rage pushed its way through her belly.

“The words ‘Don’t eat me’ were painted onto about a dozen cows.”

She fisted her hands on her hips, only to have them yanked away by her errant dogs. “That’s actually quite clever. Wish I could take credit for it, but I have no intention of breaking the law ever again, and I’m certainly not stupid enough to risk my probation by spray-painting a bunch of cows the week before my court date.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “You’re anything but stupid, but I had to eliminate you as a suspect, given your previous arrest.”

“Hmph.” That took some of the wind out of her sails.

“Have a nice day, Olivia.” With a wink, he got back into his cruiser and drove away.

She stood there for a moment, still halfway pissed off, then went inside. Who had spray-painted those cows? Hopefully it wasn’t anyone from her group. Because if her act of vandalism had inadvertently encouraged someone else to do the same, that made her feel even worse. Maybe she needed to do a blog post reminding people to keep things legal.

Besides being the right thing to do, it was the only way they’d ever get the sheriff’s office to take them seriously.

She took a hot shower and dressed in an emerald-colored sweater and skinny jeans, with her leather-free, fake Uggs. Since she still had a few minutes before she needed to leave for work, she sat on her bed and twirled a feather-duster toy she’d bought the other day for Hallie. The kitten lunged through the air chasing the feathers, eyes dark with mischief. She really was fun to have around. Olivia had never had a cat before, and as she hadn’t actually tried to find another home for Hallie, it was time to admit that she had one now.

“You’re mine. You know that, right?” she told Hallie, who purred then launched herself through the air in another attack on the feather toy.

The doorbell rang, followed by booming barks and the scuffle of dog toes over hardwood floors. See? They were a decent alarm system. Olivia set down the feather-duster and glanced out her bedroom window.

The Channel Two news van was parked in front of her house.

What in the world?

She walked downstairs and checked the peephole, spotting a familiar-looking blonde on her doorstep. She slid back the deadbolt and opened the door.

“Hi. I’m Diana Robbins from the WJBV Channel Two news. Are you Olivia Bennett?”

Olivia nodded slowly. “Yes. What can I do for you?”

“The town’s been buzzing since your arrest out at the Halverson Foods plant, and now some of Frank Holloway’s cows have been spray-painted as well. Care to give us a comment?” Diana asked, her green eyes gleaming with interest.

“Um.” Olivia noticed for the first time the cameraman standing beside Diana, the red light lit, camera rolling. “I don’t know anything about the cows, so I really can’t comment on that.”

“What about your ongoing battle against Halverson Foods? Can you give our viewers the inside scoop?”

A segment on the news highlighting her campaign against Halverson Foods? This was too good to be true! Olivia pulled the front door shut behind her and smiled into the camera. “It all started about a year and a half ago when I came across some undercover footage showing conditions inside the Halverson Foods chicken-processing plant.”

Pete spent the weekend working, and Monday too. He was satisfied that Olivia hadn’t gone anywhere near Holloway’s farm, although her name hadn’t been officially removed from the list of suspects. He didn’t believe she was guilty of anything but spray-painting the Halverson factory, and the quickest way to prove that was to catch the actual culprit or culprits.

And so he’d spent every spare minute investigating the other open vandalism cases. He’d tracked down and talked to every convicted vandal in town. He even scoured Olivia’s website for names of her fellow animal rights activists and checked to see if any of them had a criminal history that suggested they might have spray-painted “Don’t eat me” on those cows.

So far he’d come up with squat, but he’d keep digging until he caught whoever was responsible. When he finally got home that night, he took Timber for a quick run, then settled on the couch with a plate of leftover pizza to catch the end of the ten o’clock news.

He choked on a piece of pepperoni when he saw Olivia’s face on the screen. She wore a green sweater and jeans. The front of her house was visible behind her.

“It’s barbaric,” she was saying. “Those birds deserve to be treated humanely, even though they’re destined to be slaughtered.”

A newscaster stood beside her, microphone in hand. “I think that most of us imagine the chickens we eat roaming around happily outside on a farm before they head to the slaughterhouse, but that’s not the reality of it.”

Olivia shook her head. “No, and it hasn’t been for some time. But the fact is, the chickens that arrive at the Halverson Foods factory each day are beaten and subjected to other horrific forms of abuse before they’re killed. And that shouldn’t be allowed to happen, not anywhere, but especially not here in Dogwood.”

The newscaster faced the camera. “You can find more information on our website at WJBV.com.”

Pete picked up his cell phone and dialed. “What the hell was that?” he asked when she answered.

“You saw me on the news?” Olivia asked.

“I just caught the end of it. Liv…this was a bad move.”

She sighed dramatically into the phone. “It wasn’t the best timing, but she just showed up on my doorstep with the camera rolling. What was I supposed to do, send her away?”

“Yes.”

She growled at his blunt answer. “Well that would have been a bad move too, because I might not have gotten her attention again later on. This news segment is going to drum up a lot of new support for my cause.”

“That may be, but you shouldn’t have gone on TV a week before your court date. You need the judge to see you as someone who’s learned her lesson.”

“And I have.” There was a new edge in her tone. “The last time I checked, it isn’t illegal to talk to a reporter.”

He rubbed his brow. “It’s a matter of perception. Not to mention, you’ve probably just pissed off all those workers again.”

“You know what? I don’t need a lecture. If I’d had a chance to think it over ahead of time, maybe I wouldn’t have done the interview, but she caught me off guard, and I went with it.”

“Olivia—”

“I have no regrets, so don’t you dare have them for me.” She paused, and the sound of dogs barking echoed through the phone. “What the—”