“You just saw us at our worst.” When her marriage had started to fall apart, she’d quit working at Rafe’s mother’s cafe and started working for Frank instead. A heavy ache started in her chest. “We weren’t always like that.”
“I’ve been through two divorces, Olivia. Neither of them was quite like yours. Not by a long shot. And then the cold war you and Rafe have been playing at for the last two years? That’s something else that’s hard to wrap one’s head around, I gotta tell you.”
Olivia just sat there, stunned. She’d never heard Frank string together so many words at once. And they didn’t feel good. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I can see you falling for him all over again. And if that’s what’s meant to be, there’s probably no stopping it, but you gotta know it’s not going to be smooth sailing.”
She shook her head. “No. I took this second job to build up a little nest egg so I can leave. Rafe and me…we need more distance than Pine Harbour allows.” In more ways than one, given how much her boss seemed to know about her divorce.
“We’ll see.” He thumped on the table. “Finish your paperback, young lady, then back to work.”
*dpgroup.org*
— FIVE —
Six years earlier
“BABY, I’m heading out,” Rafe quietly whispered in her ear, squeezing her hip in one last reluctant goodbye touch.
“Mmm-kay,” she half-said, half-groaned. It was way too early for conversation. She’d woken up and made him breakfast his first few day shifts, but when he admitted that he preferred just a cup of coffee, she happily let him hit the brew button while she snuggled deep into the blankets and dreamed of what they’d do when he got back from work. “I love you.”
“Not as much as I love you. I’ll be home late, don’t wait up.”
“Only if you promise to wake me up when you get in.” She squeaked as his hand slid around to cup her bottom, his fingers teasing between her cheeks.
“I promise to wake you up with dirty demands every night for the rest of your life, my beautiful wife.”
When she roused again, he was long gone and her legs rubbed restlessly against each other. She blushed at the heat that instantly bloomed as she thought of Rafe’s hands on her. She’d been so nervous when he’d proposed—yes, she felt things for him that she’d only read about in romance novels, and it felt like the real deal, but marriage? And a move, way up north?
She’d been working at Starbucks, it wasn’t like she’d left behind a major career, but six months earlier she hadn’t even known this man and now she was completely dependent on him. It wasn’t a permanent situation, this housewife business. She was looking for a job, but with her limited resume, she wasn’t qualified for much.
And yet…they were making it work. And much of the time, justmaking it. Which definitely worked for her. Her husband was walking sex dipped in sugar.
A knock at the door interrupted her horny reflection. When it repeated a minute later, she dragged herself out of bed. Who would want to see her at eight in the morning? She was halfway across their small apartment before she realized there was only one possible answer. A quick glance at her bare legs peeking out from underneath one of Rafe’s green army shirts had her turning around—she needed to be wearing her own pyjamas, buttoned from tip to toe, before she opened the door.
“Anne, what a pleasure!” she said twenty-five seconds later, quite out of breath as she gestured to their thankfully tidy sitting area. “Come in!”
In the two months they’d been in Pine Harbour, they’d had dinner at Rafe’s parents’ place every Sunday night he wasn’t working—seven long meals that hadn’t given her any insight into how to win over this woman. The rest of his loud, loving family was a different story. She’d bonded right away with Rafe’s nineteen-year-old baby sister, Dani, and his brothers were all awesome. Even his dad seemed to like her. But Anne Minelli had proved a tough nut to crack.
“Rafe is at work, I’m afraid.”
“I know, I came to see you.”
“Me?”
“I understand you’ve been circulating your résumé around town.”
“Yes, I’d like to find a job.”
“You didn’t apply with me.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I own a cafe and a catering company. You’re a waitress. Is there a reason you don’t want to work for me?”
Olivia could think of at least two primo reasons right off the top of her head, but instead she shook her head. “Of course not, I just didn’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
“I’m a professional, Olivia. You have nothing to fear in that regard.”
