Against the Tide (14 page)

Liv reached for her cell phone.

Chapter Sixteen

Rafe got the call at six forty-five. He'd been more than half expecting it. He swore softly, sure who it was before he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He wasn't surprised to look down and see Liv's number.

“Hello, darlin'.”

“Rafe, something's come up. I can't make dinner tonight. I'm really sorry to call at the last minute, but I just can't make it.”

“Actually, I've been expecting to hear from you.”

“You have?”

“Of course I was hoping I'd be wrong.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. A large party just came in. I need to stay and work.”

“Not a problem. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

“Thanks, Rafe, for being so understanding.” Liv disconnected the call.

Rafe just smiled. He understood, all right. He understood exactly. Liv was running again and he wasn't going to put up with it. Grabbing his Windbreaker, he headed down to the garage and climbed into his pickup. A few minutes later, he was on his way to the Pelican.

He could hardly wait to see the look on Olivia's face when he got there.

 

 

The café was busy with the dinner crowd, and a large party sat in the side banquet room they used for bigger groups. It was busy, but Nell was working, Charlie Foot was cooking, Cassie was also on the schedule, and everything was under control.

A flicker of guilt slid through her. She had used work as an excuse to cancel her date with Rafe and done it at the very last minute. It wasn't fair and she knew it.

But she'd been frantic, worried about getting in too deep. Because the hard truth was she wanted to see him in the very worst way.

Liv blotted out thoughts of the big fat lie she had told and decided to go back to work. She was heading for her apron on the rack next to the counter when Nell walked up.

“Looks like it's gonna be a real good night.”

“Yes, it does.” Liv spotted a young couple who had finished reading their menus and set them down on the table. “I'll grab my apron and take care of the table in the corner.”

“You worked last night,” Nell said, stopping her. “This is your night off. I thought you were having dinner with Rafe.”

A flush crept into her cheeks. “Well, I was, but—”

The bell rang.

Nell smiled. “Oh, good. There he is now.”

Liv's eyes widened at she turned to see Rafe's tall, broad-shouldered figure filling the doorway. There was no mistaking the determination in his features, or the hard glint in those whiskey-brown eyes. She swallowed as he stalked her across the room like the lion she'd once called him.

Rafe stopped right in front of her and those hot brown eyes fixed on her face.

“I told you I couldn't come,” she said. “It's busy, so I have to work.”

His gaze traveled the dining room, then swung back to hers. “Looks to me like you've got things under control.” He took her arm. “Let's go.”

“What? What do you think you're doing?”

“I'm taking you to my house for dinner. Just the way we planned.”

Liv jerked free. “I told you I'm busy. I'm sorry, Rafe, but that's the way it is.”

His features darkened. “You've got two choices here, Olivia. You can come with me and I can finish making the supper I'd already started when you called. Or I can do what I've fantasized about and carry you out of here over my shoulder.”

Her gaze moved down that tall, hard body, and heat rolled through her. “You . . . you fantasized about that?”

“I told you.”

“You said you'd considered it. That isn't the same.”

His jaw hardened. “You're right. It isn't.”

Liv gasped as he bent and set himself in her middle, lifted her off her feet and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of shrimp. Rafe turned and started striding for the door, and the restaurant erupted in laughter. Several people clapped and cheered.

Furious and embarrassed, Liv pounded on his back. “Put me down, Rafe Brodie!”

Rafe, of course, ignored her.

“Damn you!” She pounded harder, but only succeeded in knocking the clip out of her hair, letting the dark strands tumble over her head. Rafe just kept walking.

They were outside in seconds. He opened the driver-side door of his pickup and tossed her roughly in the middle of the seat.

Liv scrabbled toward the passenger door and reached for the handle.

“Don't do it,” Rafe warned. “You might not like some of the other things I've fantasized about doing to you.”

Oh, dear God! Her face went warm as he climbed behind the wheel, leaned over and slid his arm around her waist. Hauling her across the seat, he fit her snuggly against his side. The engine roared to life and they were heading north, up Hazelet to his house.

Liv was furious. She replayed the scene in the café, remembered the determined look on his face and the feel of his hard-muscled shoulder as he'd carted her out of the restaurant. Only Rafe Brodie would dare do something like that. She was angry and embarrassed. And, she suddenly realized, ridiculously turned on.

Oh, dear God!

“At the very least we're friends,” he said, casting a hard look in her direction. “Friends don't treat each other that way.”

He was right. She felt like crying. He had a way of confusing her. Making her feel guilty, and angry, and on fire for him all at once.

“You're right,” she said softly. “I apologize.”

“That's better. Don't expect me to apologize for hauling you out of there. I liked it too much.” He flicked her a sideways glance. “Were you really that afraid?”

Fresh anger rolled through her. “I wasn't afraid. Why would I be afraid?”

“Because, Liv, this thing between us . . . it's like a wildfire. You can't tell exactly which way it's going to burn, but you know you can't stop it, and it's frightening. And if you want the truth, it scares the hell out of me, too.”

He couldn't have said anything that would touch her more. Her anger began to fade. She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “I'm sorry, Rafe. I really am.”

“It's all right. Now you know I mean what I say. You might as well learn that right away.”

“Wait a damned minute!”

Ignoring her outburst, he pulled into the driveway, opened the garage door, and drove the pickup inside.

He was standing in front of her when she climbed out of the truck.

“Are we done?” he said. “Because I was really looking forward to tonight.”

She wanted to stay mad. It was always a good defense. Instead, she sighed. “We're done. What the hell, I deserved it.” How did you fight with a man like that? He might be overbearing, but at least he was honest.

“It's all right,” he said softly, sliding his fingers into her hair, lifting it back from her face. “You're here now.” Holding her in place, he dipped his head and very thoroughly kissed her. Liv told herself to push him away, but that hadn't worked before, and instead she found herself swaying toward him, clutching those wide shoulders to stay on her feet.

Rafe just kept kissing her, leisurely and deeply. She barely noticed when he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the steps into his house.

“I think food is going to have to wait,” he said and kissed her again, silencing the half-formed protest on her lips. There wasn't time to look around when they reached the living room. Rafe climbed a second short flight of stairs and continued down the hall to his bedroom.

He was kissing her again and she was breathing hard when he let her go, let her body slide down his. She could feel his erection, remembered how big he was, how good it had felt when he was inside her. He moved her hair off her shoulder and pressed his mouth to the side of her neck.

“We had sex last time,” he said, nibbling an earlobe, making her shiver and her knees feel week. “This time we're going to make love.”

A little whimper escaped.

Rafe trailed kisses along her jaw and took her mouth again. When he unbuttoned her shirt and unhooked the sapphire-blue pushup bra she'd put on especially for him before she'd panicked and changed her mind, she didn't try to stop him.

Rafe wanted her, and as he cupped her breasts and ran a thumb over her nipple, God in heaven, she wanted him.

In minutes he had them both naked and stretched out on his bed. He leaned over her, kissed her until she was mindless, then nibbled and tasted his way to her breasts. He was good at this, she knew, knew exactly where to touch her, how to be gentle, just when to use force. He'd already found the perfect little place behind her ear to drive her crazy.

“Please,” she whimpered as he came up over her, her nails digging into his shoulders. “I need you inside me, Rafe, please . . .”

“Soon, darlin'.” She heard the male satisfaction in his voice. “First, let's see if I can find something else you like.”

Her eyes widened as he kissed his way down her body. The next thing she knew his talented mouth had her moaning, then tumbling into climax. She had barely returned from her trip to the stars when she felt him sliding inside her, moving with slow purpose, coaxing her body to respond again. His teeth grazed the side of her neck, nipping and tasting, then his mouth slanted over hers again. Combined with the feel of his hard length stroking her insides, she couldn't help another shivery climax.

Rafe didn't stop.

By the time they were finished several hours later, she was limp and completely sated, barely able to move.

One thing she knew. When Rafe Brodie made love to a woman, it wasn't a night she would soon forget.

 

 

It was late, well after midnight by the time they finished showering together, which included more lovemaking and lasted until they ran out of hot water. Liv pulled on one of Rafe's old, faded T-shirts with the words
U.S. COAST
GUARD
, along with a picture of a helicopter and the words
AIR SEA RESCUE TEAM, BERING SEA, AK
, stamped on the front.

The T-shirt hung down over her hips while Rafe's black tee fit snuggly across his broad shoulders, powerful chest, and biceps. As they walked downstairs, it took an effort for Olivia not to stare.

In the living room, she paused, noticing the room was as male as Rafe was, done in navy blue and brown. Lots of photos of the ocean and boats on the walls, sunrise and sunset over the Valdez harbor and the magnificent Prince William Sound.

The dining table was set for two with navy-blue place mats and dark brown dishes. Everything was coordinated, which Liv found strangely intriguing.

“Everything matches,” she said. “That isn't typically a man thing. How did that happen?”
Sally?
she wondered and didn't like the faint thread of jealousy that trickled through her.

“My brother Dylan's getting married to a designer from Beverly Hills. The wedding's set for July.” He tossed her a look. “Maybe I could get you to go with me.”

Liv glanced away. She hadn't planned anything that far ahead for the last three years. “Maybe.”

“Dylan and Lane came up for a visit a couple of months back. I'd asked Lane for advice so she came prepared, brought catalogues, showed me stuff online. We picked furniture for the living room, dining room, and kitchen. Lane ordered it and had it shipped directly here.”

“I like what the two of you came up with. Not too fussy, and it suits you perfectly.”

“Thanks. I think you'd like her.”

Liv ended her inspection and returned her gaze to his. What she saw in those dark, intelligent eyes made her want to know more about him, know the family he clearly loved.

“Maybe someday I'll get to meet her,” she said softly, knowing that would probably never happen.

Rafe set his hands at her waist and drew her against him. “You'll meet them. I'm not going to let you run, darlin'.” He pressed his mouth against the side of her neck. “And I won't run, either, yes?”

Liv felt the unexpected sting of tears. It sounded so good. Too good. She swallowed. “Okay,” she found herself saying.

And prayed she wasn't lying again.

 

 

The late supper came off without a hitch. Along with a nice bottle of cabernet, Rafe had opted for the safer menu and broiled a couple of thick New York strip steaks instead of the moose he had in the freezer. The salad was easy enough. The baked potatoes he'd had in the oven when he'd left to fetch Liv were burnt to a crisp so he opened a can of corn and tossed in some butter. Over all, the meal was damned good. Or at least he thought so.

And after the lusty sex they'd had upstairs, Liv was finally relaxed. He wanted her to trust him. If sex was the key, he could damn well handle that.

While they ate, he was smart enough to keep the subjects neutral, what sports they enjoyed, movies they liked, a little about their respective businesses. Nothing about her past, which seemed to be the hot button that put her in flight mode.

“It was a really nice evening, Rafe,” she said as both of them rose from the table.

When she reached out to gather the plates, he caught her hand. “I'll do that later. There's something I want to show you.” He took her hand and started tugging her up the short flight of stairs that led to the bedrooms.

Liv pulled back. “What is it?”

One of his eyebrows went up at the note of wariness that had crept back into her voice. “You don't want me to think you're afraid again, do you?”