He's So Fine (10 page)

“I miss you,” he said.

“I’m still right here,” she said, but they both knew that wasn’t true.

“I hate it that you have to keep my secrets,” she whispered in the dark.

“Then stop the madness. Either tell everyone you married Ward, or dump him. Stop taking Mom’s money for tuition and books. Come clean with everyone.”

“It’s not that simple, Cole.”

“Yeah, it is. No one’s going to judge you for your life choices, Cara. But they will for the lies.”

“I’m not spending Mom’s money, you know. I have it all in my account. I haven’t spent a penny of it.”

“Whatever, Cara; lying is lying.”

Another long silence. “What am I supposed to tell them?” she asked softly.

“The truth. That you followed your heart, for better or worse. That you quit school two semesters ago. That you’re working at some store.”

“I’m a personal shopper for Macy’s, which thankfully is a forty-five-minute drive so the nosy-bodies from Lucky Harbor haven’t discovered me. And you know what? I happen to be really good at it. In fact, I love it,” she said. “In case you wanted to know.”

He sat up and moved to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Home,” he said. “I’m tired from sitting around on my boat all day long.”

She turned on the e-reader again, and her face was bathed in soft ambient light. She had the good grace to grimace. “I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. I know you work your ass off. But I’m doing the same now, I promise. And I’ll figure out the Ward thing. Soon.”

He crouched at her side. “If you love this job, then just tell Mom and the rest of the coven the truth. Make up with Ward or don’t. But tell them. That’s all I’m asking.”

She bit her lower lip and gave a barely there nod.

Good enough, he thought, and hoped she meant it. He moved to climb down.

“Cole?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for not telling on me.”

“It’s not my place to tell,” he said.

“I appreciate that—”

“Because it’s yours.”

She blew out a sigh. “You suck.”

“I care.”

“Damn it. And now the guilt…”

“No guilt,” he said. “We’re family. Family doesn’t lie to each other. You hear me?”

She sighed again.

“Cara.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I hear you.”

Their gazes met and held, and then he left her alone, hoping she’d do the right thing.

A
few days after Holy-Cow-Didn’t-See-That-Kiss-Coming Night, Olivia woke early. A storm had blown in at some point and she could hear the wind pounding the warehouse, whistling through the rafters high above her.

The heat hadn’t kicked on, so she huddled beneath her blankets, not wanting to get up. From bed she checked on a few of her pending eBay bids and Craigslist items she had her eye on for the shop. Next up was email, which she tackled with one eye closed because everyone knew that made it easier to ignore the bad ones.

Yep. Her sister had emailed.

And so had her mother, which was new. Tamilyn had finally stepped into the twenty-first century, God help them all.

She also had an email from the TV Land producer, in which he quickly and efficiently outlined the retro special he’d planned.

A nightmare in the making.

She was in a good place, damn it, a really good place. She didn’t want to go back. Not even for a day.

Braving the icy morning, she got up, showered until she ran out of hot water—which took only about five minutes—and then dressed and headed out. Down the hall, she knocked on Becca’s door.

It took knocking a second time before Becca opened up, her hair wild, cheeks rosy, wearing a grin that wouldn’t quit.

Olivia shook her head. “We’re going to have to switch our weekly breakfasts to dinners.”

“No, I promise I can get ready in two minutes.”

“It’s not because you’re late,” Olivia said, stepping inside while Becca searched for clothes.

“Why then?” Becca asked, throwing on a sweater that was clearly Sam’s, since the chunky cream cable-knit hit her at midthigh.

“Because I’m jealous,” Olivia said. “And anyway, it’s been a bunch of months already. Aren’t you tired of having sex all the time yet?”

Becca laughed. “Are you kidding? You’ve seen who I’m sleeping with, right?”

It was true, Sam was pretty damn fine. As was Tanner. But Olivia’s brain had a perma-pic of Cole on her frontal lobe, wearing the same heavy-lidded, sensual look in his eyes that he’d had after kissing her. No doubt even if she spent every night in Cole’s bed for months, she wouldn’t be tired of him yet, either.

Becca hopped into a pair of jeans and fought with the top button. “Damn it, I’m going to have to order oatmeal this morning instead of my usual bacon-and-eggs special. I’m getting to be a chunk.”

“Yeah right,” Olivia said, looking at Becca’s warm, soft curves.

“It’s true,” Becca said. “Oh, and I invited the new girl to join us. Callie.”

“But you know I don’t like new people.”

“Oh good,” came a female voice from the doorway. “And here I was nervous that this would be all awkward, like high school.”

Olivia sighed and turned to the door.

Callie stood there, not looking awkward in the slightest. In fact, she was smirking slightly at Olivia. She was in another pair of yoga pants, sans dust this time, and a long, soft sweater the same blue as her eyes. Her smile was a mix of dry wit and bravado, and Olivia felt like a jerk.

“I’m sorry,” she said genuinely. “I didn’t actually do high school.”

The words slipped out of her, and before the questions could start, she gave the truth. Of sorts. “I was homeschooled.”

Tutored on set. Same thing.

“Man, I wished for that,” Callie said. “I did the opposite of homeschooling. I went to a small-town high school.”

“Really?” Becca asked. “Where?”

“Right here in Lucky Harbor.”

When both Olivia and Becca just stared at Callie, she smiled. “Left after graduation and vowed to never again live in a town small enough that you could run into your gyno at the grocery store. Or your parole officer at the post office.” She shrugged. “And yet ten years later, here I am.”

Silence.

“Hey,” Callie said. “I was kidding about the parole officer.”

“So…you missed Lucky Harbor?” Olivia asked, drawn to the idea. She’d been in town just long enough to know she loved it here and hoped to never leave.

But Callie laughed. “No, I didn’t miss much about Lucky Harbor, actually.”

“So why are you back?” Becca asked.

“My grandma,” Callie said. “She’s acting a little…” She swirled her finger on the outside of her ear. “Cuckoo. Like maybe her box of crayons is missing a few colors. My family took a vote on who had to come back to check on her. I drew the short straw.”

“Your grandma’s living here with you?” Becca asked.

“No, Grandma owns the local art gallery,” Callie said. “There’s room there for me, or at her house, but I need my own space.”

“Art gallery.” Becca smiled. “Your grandma’s Lucille? The oracle of Lucky Harbor?”

“Oh, God. You know her?” Callie asked. “It’s true then, she’s been making trouble?”

Becca laughed. “Well, that depends on who you ask.”

“Great.” Callie shook her head and looked around the interior of Becca’s apartment. “Looks like yours is as big a piece of crap as mine.”

“Yeah, but not Olivia’s,” Becca said. “She owns Unique Boutique, that really great vintage shop downtown. She did up her apartment as pretty as her store.”

Pride filled Olivia at the unexpected praise. “It’s all older stuff,” she said, “nothing new.”

“Some of the very best stuff is old,” Callie said, and she came up in stature in Olivia’s eyes.

They left the warehouse and stood outside a moment, taking in the vicious dark clouds coming in off the water, churning up the sky like black cotton candy.

“Gonna be a hell of a storm tonight,” Becca noted.

“I remember Lucky Harbor’s fall storms,” Callie said, wrapping her arms around herself. “Does the power still go out all the time?”

Becca and Olivia, both relatively new to Lucky Harbor, looked at each other.

“Never been here during fall,” Becca said, not sounding quite as excited about the storm now.

“Stock up on candles,” Callie warned. “Just a tip. Although that’s not going to keep me online and working, so hopefully I’m wrong.”

“What do you do?” Olivia asked.

Callie paused for the briefest second. “I run an online one-stop wedding website.”

“Wow,” Becca said, sounding impressed. “You can make a living off that?”

“People are pretty serious about their weddings,” Callie said.

They walked past the docks toward the pier. While Becca and Callie chatted, Olivia took in the empty slip where Lucky Harbor Charters’ boat was usually moored.

“The guys took out a big group of fishermen,” Becca said, noticing the direction of Olivia’s gaze. “It was supposed to be Lucille and her cronies, but they decided on bingo instead.”

“You mean Sam and Tanner took out the fishermen?” Olivia asked.

“Not Sam. He’s building a boat in their warehouse today.”

“But Cole’s shoulder,” Olivia said. “He shouldn’t be out yet.”

“He’s not. He’s working the hut,” Becca said.

Lucky Harbor Charters operated out of a large warehouse on the harbor. A smaller building functioned as their client reception area. They called it the hut. Olivia knew this thanks to Becca. The two of them had often sat and watched—and also drooled—over the three guys either out on their boat, surfing, or having pull-up contests in the alley between their warehouses…and Becca had just as often suggested Olivia go for one of them.

Olivia had declined.

“I should probably tell you,” Becca said. “Cole asked Sam about you.”

Olivia stopped breathing. “Why?”

“Maybe for the same reason you’re pretending not to notice that he exists,” Becca said slowly, watching Olivia.

“I know he exists. A girl can’t see a guy naked and not know he exists.”

Oh, shit. Had she really said that?

Both Becca and Callie choked. “Okay,” Becca said. “You owe me a story. Now.”

“We were wet,” Olivia said. “Cold. Possibly hypothermic. We had to…lose our clothes.”

Callie grinned. “Nice.”

Becca blinked. “How did I not see this one coming? Damn, I’m losing my touch.”

“You saw everything?” Callie asked. “Is he still hot?”

Becca turned to Callie. “You know Cole?”

“And Sam and Tanner too,” their new neighbor said. “Went to high school with them all eons ago, though I was behind them a few years, and I was the biggest computer geek to ever live, so they didn’t know I existed.” She winced. “I had this really pathetic crush on Tanner. Haven’t seen any of them in forever. Is Cole still the sexy nerd, the MacGyver guy who can fix anything with a roll of duct tape and a screwdriver and those big ol’ hands of his?”

“Yes,” Olivia heard herself say, and then she bit her own tongue when Becca refocused her attention on her as if to say
Really?
“Fine, I saw him naked and he was amazing, okay? Can we drop it now? It’s not like we’re dating or anything. I don’t even know him.” Look at her fib. Because actually, she knew a lot about him. She knew that although he was easygoing and laid-back and didn’t appear to let things get to him, he’d been deeply hurt by his last relationship. She knew he loved his family, crazy or otherwise, and that he’d do anything for them and expected the same in return. It was those expectations of those he cared about that terrified her.

She’d never done so well with expectations. In fact, it was safe to say she failed at them, spectacularly.

Becca whipped out her phone. “You know what I want to know? Why my soon-to-be-husband didn’t tell me there was nakedness.” She was texting as she spoke. She paused as an answer came back and blew out a sigh. Then she showed Olivia and Callie the screen.

Callie laughed. “Still Sam, then. Grumpy as ever.”

“And dead,” Becca muttered, shoving her phone away. She pointed at Olivia. “And you. You pinkie promised me a story. Don’t you think I’ve forgotten.”

“I can’t wait to see everyone again,” Callie said. “It’s gonna be fun.”

“Well, since I’m going to have to kill Sam, I’m sorry ahead of time for your loss,” Becca said.

They came to the pier and the local diner. Eat Me was open for business, and Becca pushed Olivia in ahead of her.

“Food first,” she said. “And then you start spilling some serious deets.”

Cole stopped outside Olivia’s shop at the end of the day. It was pouring buckets and had been for hours. He’d called their chartered fishing group in early, which had turned out to be a good idea, since ten minutes after Tanner had moored, the swells were being clocked at twelve feet.

Hood up, hands shoved in his pockets, he took a peek inside Unique Boutique. The place was the picture of a warm, old-fashioned gift shop where you could find just about anything. The lights were on and so was the music, but he couldn’t see a single soul.

Above him, lightning cracked. And then a beat later, thunder rolled.

And rolled.

Cole let himself inside, tossed back his wet hood, and moved through the place. He had the pleasure of finding Olivia bent over a hip-high shelving unit in her office. It was a most excellent view, the best view he’d had all damn day, in fact.

Her feet were barely touching the floor as she reached for something on the floor, out of range.

But that wasn’t the best part. No, that honor went to what she was wearing—some sort of Valkyrie woman warrior costume, complete with a leather bustier dress and matching arm bands with high-heeled gladiator sandals that might as well have been the on switch to his libido.

Topping off the vision, she was swearing up a storm.

“Damn sonofabitch, piece-of-shit—”

“Problem?” he asked.

She squeaked, jerked, and then the entire shelving unit collapsed, taking her down with it.

C
ole rushed forward and scooped Olivia up, setting her on her feet. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She blew a strand of hair from her eyes. “Well, except for my pride.”

He found himself grinning. “Nice costume.”

“Got it from eBay. It came from the set of
Game of Thrones
.”

He didn’t care if it’d come from the moon. He loved the leather skirt¸ the straps wrapped up her calves, and especially the corset barely containing her breasts. He wanted to pull on the tie of the corset and unravel her. “You going to be a warrior princess for Halloween?” he asked.

“No, but I’m hoping someone in Lucky Harbor will want to be—”

Lightning burst.

Olivia jerked. “One, two, three,” she whispered, and cringed as thunder rolled through the shop. “That’s awfully close,” she said shakily. “Too close.”

“Hey.” He pulled her into him. “It’s okay. We’ve had worse.”

“But what if the power goes out?”

“It probably will,” he said.

She chewed on her lower lip, looking worried.

“You afraid of the dark?”

At this, her spine snapped straight. “No.”

He smiled, and she sagged. “Okay, maybe just a little,” she said. “I blame the
Sleepy Hollow
marathon I just watched.”

“I could get your mind off of being scared.”

She met his gaze. “That’d be like jumping from the frying pan into the fire.”

True enough. He looked at the collapsed shelving unit at their feet. Cheap laminated plywood, and poorly constructed at that. “New?”

“Yes.” Olivia gave the pile a little kick. “And it’s a piece of crap.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s more how it was put together that was the problem.”

“Hey,” she said, then sighed. “And true.”

He picked up a small plastic bag with three screws in it. “Here’s problem number one. You’re supposed to use all the screws, Supergirl.”

“Well,
now
you tell me.”

He laughed, which he realized he did a lot around her, and crouched low to gather the pieces together.

“I didn’t see that baggie of screws. Do you need my tool kit?” she asked.

He looked up at her. Up those long, bare legs to the leather kick-ass costume that made his mouth water. “You don’t have a tool kit.”

“I do now,” she said proudly. “Brand new, too. Got it yesterday at the hardware store.” She went to a closet and pulled out a small toolbox with a variety of dollar-store tools in it. She lifted the cheap battery-operated screw gun. “Look at this baby. It’s what I used to put the shelves together.”

“Cute,” he said, enjoying thinking about her sitting right here on the floor, piecing the shelving unit together. “But let’s use all the screws this time.”

“Good idea.” She revved the screw gun. Annie Oakley meets Xena, Warrior Princess.

“You can direct,” she said, “but I get to do all the screwing.”

He grinned. “A guy’s greatest fantasy.”

But he did indeed direct, and she screwed, her brow furrowed in concentration, lower lip being tortured between her teeth as she worked.

It was sexy as hell.

“You like doing things for yourself,” he said when they’d gotten the shelving unit back together and she stood there, hands on hips, staring proudly at her finished product.

“Always have,” she said. “It’s the city rat in me.”

“I thought you were a country kid.”

She stilled briefly, then turned away. “I’m a hybrid.”

He came around the shelving unit to look at her. She was studying the shelves, her expression faraway, lost in memories. “How did you lose them?” he asked softly.

Her head jerked to his. “Who?”

“Your family.”

Her face closed up. Just closed up entirely. “I…don’t like to talk about it.”

He nodded. That was something he could understand all too well. “When my dad died,” he said, “I couldn’t talk about it, either. He was such an important part of my life for so long. It was always him and me against the wave of estrogen in my house growing up. We were a team.”

“But you love them,” she said. “Your sisters.”

“Yeah, of course.” He gave her a small smile. “They’re family, you know?”

She just kept staring at him, and the oddest feeling came over him, the feeling that she really didn’t know. “You’ve been on your own for a long time, haven’t you?” he asked.

Still staring at him, she hesitated and then nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, and he leaned in to hear her over the driving rain slanting against the windows because he didn’t want to miss a word.

But in the next blink, lightning again lit up the shop, and again she jerked.

“One,” she said shakily. “Two—”

The crack of thunder had her taking a quick step closer to him, and then…

The lights flickered and went out.

Her hand slipped into his. He immediately pulled her closer. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m not scared,” she said, and then pressed her face into his chest. “I just don’t want you to be.”

He smiled into her hair. “Sweet.”

Her arms slipped around his waist as she pressed even closer. “That’s me. Sweet Olivia.”

She was trembling, and he stroked a hand down her back. “Come on, Supergirl. Let’s lock up and get you home.” He grabbed her coat and held it out for her.

“I need to change.”

He eyed her in that mouthwatering costume and shook his head. “Leave it on,” he said. “You might have to protect me on the way home.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Okay, then leave it on because it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She buttoned her coat over the costume without another word. “My truck,” he said. “I’ll drive.” They braved the stormy night together and ran hand in hand to his truck.

Inside her warehouse, her place was dark and the usual frigid temperature. “You have candles?” he asked as they stepped inside. “Or a lantern?”

“Candles.” She moved forward, bumped into something, swore, and was ripped from his hands.

He flicked on a penlight from his pocket and once again found her sprawled on the floor.

“Not a word,” she said as she hopped up and dusted herself off. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“What did you trip over?” He aimed the light at the floor, but there was nothing.

“My own feet, if you must know,” she said. “And I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

He smiled. “Remind me to keep you in the center of the boat when you’re out on the water. I don’t want to lose you overboard.” He continued to direct the light around the place, curious about her. It looked just like her store. “It’s nice in here.”

“So on top of a screwdriver and some duct tape, you also carry a flashlight. What else do you keep in your pants?”

He grinned, and she blushed. “You know what I mean!” she said, clapping a hand to her cheeks. “Oh, never mind. Candles. I’m getting candles.”

She moved to an antique hutch and opened some drawers, pulling out two armfuls of candles, which she spread around the place. “Here,” she said, handing him some more. “I’ll start lighting them.” She struck a match along the matchbox, and it sizzled, went
whoomp
, and burst into flame.

He startled. It pissed him off, but he did. There was no getting around it, and there was no missing it either. He’d just jumped like a goddamn baby because a goddamn match had been lit.

Over the small, flickering flame, Olivia met his gaze. She didn’t say a word, just slowly touched the tip of the match to a candle and then repeated the process on the other candles until the match’s flame got too low and she had to blow it out.

She didn’t light another.

The five candles she’d lit brought a little glow to the place, and some desperately needed warmth.

Or maybe that was the look in her eyes.

She set the matchbox down and came to him. “I’m scared,” she said.

Bullshit. She wasn’t scared. But then she slid her arms around him again, and he couldn’t think beyond the fact that she was clearly cold. Letting out a low sound, he pulled her into him. “You’re shaking.”

“That’s you,” she said softly.

Well, hell.

She slid her fingers into his hair and met his gaze. “What’s going on, Cole?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing is why you’re jumpy around flames?”

“I’m never jumpy.”

She ticked the moments off on her fingers. “You fell off your boat at a spark. You froze at my shop at another spark, and then just now with a flame.”

“Maybe I’m just a fucking pussy,” he said.

“Or maybe things are bothering you.”

His gaze locked on hers. “And you think badgering me about it will help?”

A bolt of lightning lit the room like day for one single heartbeat. Thunder immediately boomed, shaking the ground and rattling the windows. She shivered and shifted closer. “I think I know something that will help.”