Love in a Small Town (Pine Harbour Book 1) (3 page)

“I’m free on Sunday.” Two long days away. He wanted to promise tomorrow, but knew he couldn’t. Who knew how long the raid and all the associated statements, evidence collection and paperwork would take?

“Are you going to your mom’s for dinner?”

“Nah.” That stopped being fun the day he’d left Olivia. He showed up for command performances but the weekly thing was too painful.

“You want me to feed you?” Her words were…not quite reluctant, but definitely not loaded with suggestion. He looked at her in surprise and she shrugged. “A peace offering.”

“You don’t have anything to make up to me, Liv.”

Her lips twisted into a sad smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “We can talk on Sunday. I have to get back to work.”

He rolled those words over and over in his head as he drove to the small, three-story apartment building that he now called home. Thought about them as he took some melatonin, darkened his room and forced himself to sleep. They were the first thing on his mind when his alarm told him it was time to get up and, fifteen hours later when he dropped back into the exact same spot, he still hadn’t made any more sense of them. 

In between he hadn’t thought of Liv much, or her words, because that was how he pretended the dangers he faced every day at work couldn’t touch her. That the long stretch of wild lake shore on the peninsula wasn’t prime drug-trafficking territory and he hadn’t spent the last handful of hours waiting for a transfer bus to take some grower peons to the county jail. It was a drop in the bucket. Last night’s bust hadn’t netted any of the bosses—their goal in moving it up three days.

It was possible that all three grow-ops that had been hit at once in a coordinated sting just happened to only have recent hires on site. More likely was the extraordinarily unsettling possibility that they’d been tipped off. And with only twelve hours’ notice, that narrowed the pool of potential turncoats to the officers involved and a limited number of support staff. All trusted.

When they’d returned to the detachment office, Dean Foster had thrown a chair across the room. Rafe couldn’t blame him—and while Dean had been letting loose in a rare tantrum of epic proportions, Rafe had quietly been watching the room.

It wasn’t necessarily in their house. Three busts, three detachments. And a lot of tactical unit officers brought in from across the province. But he didn’t let out a sigh of relief when he only saw matching anger on the faces around him. That meant nothing.

Cops made epic liars. 

On his way out, Dean had quietly stopped by Rafe’s desk and suggested he come over later in the afternoon for a beer, an offer he was definitely going to take his friend up on.

The Fosters and the Minellis had grown up together. Dean and Zander had been in the same grade. Three years junior, Jake and Rafe had idolized their older brothers. Funny how that handful of years faded into nothing in adulthood. Even the younger siblings were all grown up now. Matt and Tom, both twenty-eight. And then the babies, Sean and Dani—the only girl between two families. It was like she had seven older brothers—and resented the shit out of it. 

Heaven help the asshole who’s stupid enough to fall in love with her.

Dean and Rafe were the only two cops in the family. Matt and Dani worked together at Bruce EMS. Zander was full-time army out west. Jake owned his own construction business. Tom was a park ranger in the provincial park system that dotted Bruce Peninsula.  And Sean…he liked to tell people he was an adventure racer. Rafe knew that the younger man grabbed more short-term Army contracts than anyone else in their reserve unit, went on every available course, and he’d jump at the next opportunity to go overseas. That worried Rafe, but Sean was a good kid. And not much of a kid anymore, but that was part of the problem. All of his brothers had tours in Afghanistan under their belts. Sean’s bad luck was being too young. By the time he’d graduated university and finished his officer training, the Canadian Forces were packing up in the sandbox. 

And Rafe, who was currently serving as Sean’s second-in-command—2IC—in their section…his only overseas experience had been a training tour in Dubai. It hardly qualified him to offer counsel. Maybe it was time to loop Dean in on the situation.

And just like that, Rafe realized he’d spent half an hour thinking about everyone he knew except Liv. His Olivia, whom he’d lost for precisely this reason. He shoved the Foster brothers out of his head and thought about what Liv might want to tell him—feel compelled to tell him—that would make her sad.

Another thirty-three hours and she’d tell him herself, but he wanted to get this on his own. Wanted to show up at her house the next day with a bottle of wine and newfound husband wisdom. 

— — 

They hadn’t had much of a chance to talk about work before Jake and Matt showed up. That led to a re-cap of Thursday night’s trip to Lion’s Head. Matt’s version of events cast Rafe in the weeniest of lights, of course.

“This dude had a hot chick crawling all over him, and he couldn’t even get it up.”

“Fuck you, asshole, see if I’m ever willing to be your wingman again.” Rafe flipped his friend the bird before grabbing another handful of chips. They were on Dean’s deck, in his backyard, which overlooked Rafe’s old backyard. Now just Liv’s.

After the kiss-that-wasn’t-a-kiss-but-was-a-whole-lot-more yesterday, Rafe had a plan. Well, more of a pipe dream than a plan. He wanted Liv back.

She was working tonight. Otherwise he’d just hop the fence and try again. And even though he’d had a nap, he wasn’t truly well rested, which he’d need, because he figured that between him admitting he wanted her back and actually getting her back would be a lot of fighting and making up. 

“Stop staring at her house.” Jake slid into the chair next to his and handed over a cold beer.

“It’s my house.” He knew he’d just growled at his best friend and he didn’t care. 

“Hasn’t been for two years. Time for you to get over her, dude.”

He didn’t answer. No point in admitting that he hadn’t done that yet, and wouldn’t pretend that he was going to. 

“So who was the hot chick?” 

“You know what, Jake? Instead of giving me a hard time after the fact, how about
you
go out with your brother. Natalie would have been happy to sit in your lap most of the night instead of mine.”

Jake made a face and Rafe snorted. “See? It’s not me. Maybe we should all stop measuring ourselves against Matt’s oversexed libido. Hooking up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Matt cackled. “Trust me, it really is. Both of you would be much happier if you’d had a roll in the hay the other night. And you actually have to go through with the hook up before you get to pass judgement on its value. When was the last time either of you got laid?”

“No comment,“ Rafe and Jake said at the same time.

“That means an embarrassingly long time. I’m guessing…not since Olivia for Rafe, and not since college for Jake.” Matt let out a high-pitched yelp as his older brother dove for him. Rafe chuckled to himself as the deck thumped over and over again with flailing Foster limbs. Some things never changed. And never stopped being funny.

Dean plopped into the chair Jake just vacated. “We’re getting too old for this shit, man.”

Rafe grunted. Matt and Jake rolling around like idiots at least served as distraction from the bigger problems in their lives. “How about you? Still seeing that lady doctor from Port Elgin?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“A ringing endorsement for monogamy.”

Dean sighed. “We’re not exactly…I’m pretty sure I’m her piece on the side. Her ex-husband lives in Toronto, and she’s been making a lot of weekend trips away.”

Rafe knew his first reaction should be disappointment for his friend, but all he heard was the phrase
piece on the side
over and over again in his head. It made him see red. “You think she wants him back?”

Another sigh. “Who knows? Probably telling that I’m most annoyed about having to go back to condoms, right?”

“When did you…”

“At the start of the summer. We both got tested, ya know? And then a few weeks ago she pulls out a rubber and says, ‘maybe we should use this…less messy.’ Except the clean up had always been my job. No skin off her nose. So…” He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “There ya go. I don’t know, maybe I’ll end it.”

Rafe didn’t bother to point out that obviously Dean was better off without that drama. Not his problem. But jeez…if Liv had slept with someone else,  he’d lose his ever-loving-mind.

Cold, clammy fear punched him in the throat.
He’d know if she’d slept with someone, wouldn’t he? 

If she had dated, he’d need to make his peace with that. Wasn’t sure how he would, because the thought of someone else’s hands on her hips, another man’s mouth on her neck…that enraged him. No. Enraged was an understatement.

But he sure as shit wouldn’t shrug over it.

He definitely needed a plan. Taking Natalie to the diner for breakfast had been a bonehead move, but it had crystallized the fact that Liv still loved him. And if that was the case, they’d made a monumental mistake.

No,
he
had made the mistake. He’d chosen his town and his jobs over the woman who meant more to him than all of those put together. He couldn’t quit and moving would be tricky, so declaring his love at this point would be an exercise in stupidity, particularly considering he’d tried once and had to back off because of work. But he wasn’t going to be content just circling in her orbit anymore. Somehow, he was going to find a way to be the man she deserved. 

— THREE —

H
E brought wine and a winning smile. She was in trouble.

“Nope. We’re not opening that.” She shook her head as he grinned and stepped inside. The temperature outside was dropping and he was wearing a leather jacket she hadn’t seen before over jeans and a white t-shirt. He looked good. They didn’t need to add alcohol to the mix for her to feel unsteady about what was going to come next.

And it wasn’t them, together, in an orgasm-fest for the ages. What happened Friday morning could not be repeated. Not when she’d made up her mind about moving forward with her life in a way that didn’t involve Rafe Minelli and his future conquests.

If he wore that jacket around town, there would be a lot of conquests in his near future. Hot damn.

“Then put it on your wine rack or something. I didn’t want to come empty handed.” He handed it over but didn’t let go right away. He pressed the bottle into her hands and stared at her intently as if he was trying to unlock her secrets.

She was only hiding two things. One she was just trying to work up the courage to share. The other—that he still melted her from the inside out with his chocolate brown eyes and stupid dimple—was locked in the vault.

This wasn’t the first time he’d come over since moving out, but it had been at least nine months. He’d taken the Christmas lights down and replaced the weather-stripping on the front door, and she’d given him a stiff thanks at the door. So he hadn’t seen—

“You painted.”

“Yeah.” Because the warm yellow had reminded her too much of him. 

“By yourself?” He turned around slowly in her living room, formerly their living room, an inscrutable look on his face. 

“It was pretty easy,” she muttered. He’d taken half the furniture, which left a lot of room to move stuff around and create bare walls. 

“I like the beige.” He was totally lying. Taupe, oatmeal, canvas … didn’t matter what she called it, he’d never wanted any neutral colours in their space. 

“Have you made any other changes?”

“Uhm, I tiled the backsplash in the kitchen.” She pointed the way, which was stupid. They’d bought the house together. He knew where the kitchen was. Had made her coffee in it almost every morning for three years, even if he was gone before she woke up. Had perched her naked on the counter and knelt in front of her, licking—

“Looks good.” He glanced back at her, his gaze lingering on her pink cheeks for a moment. “A lot of good memories in here, huh?”

He couldn’t know what she was thinking, not exactly, but her breath caught in her throat nonetheless when he patted the counter. “Come here.”

She shook her head in short, choppy movements.
Nuh-uh
. They needed space between them. Loads of it.

“I’m  not going to bite, Liv.” His voice was low and rough, like he was actually promising to bite her all over.

“I’m not so sure about that,” she teased as lightly as she could.

He gave her a long, hard look before smiling ruefully. “Yeah, I wouldn’t take that bet. So what’s for dinner?”

And just like that, the mood shifted. “Beef stroganoff and a salad.”

He kept his distance as she worked on the salad, flipping through a newsmagazine on the table. When she pulled a bottle of salad dressing out of the fridge, he moved to take it from her. She noticed the pile of opened mail at the same time he did and cursed under her breath.

“What’s this?” He fingered the red flagged letter from the hydro company and she winced.

“It’s nothing. I just forgot to pay that bill.” She watched as he flipped the letter over and frowned.

“Three months in a row?” The incredulous look on his face told her he didn’t buy her excuse. “It says here they’re cutting off the power tomorrow.”

“I paid it last Wednesday,” she mumbled. “It’s fine.”

“The whole balance?”

No, just the minimum, but he didn’t need to know that. “It’s fine,” she repeated, swiping the mail from the counter and dumping it in the nearest drawer.

He shook his head. “Obviously not. I’ll give you some—“

Tight, angry words shot up her throat and she swallowed them back, holding up her hand instead. “No.”