Butterfly Cove (14 page)

Olivia wondered what was bothering Jilly. Her friend seemed very distracted. “Is there a problem with this new specialty-food line you’re working on?”

Jilly tossed an expired box of cereal into the garbage. “Nothing I didn’t expect. No, I’m thinking about Gage coming home. I also want to make a special menu for Noah and Grace tomorrow night. If you ask me, there’s going to be a wedding announcement from them soon.

“They need to put their problems behind them and start a life together. After everything that happened to her, Grace is very cautious, but Noah’s the one. Anyone can see how she feels. How he feels about her, too.”

“They definitely act like they’re in love. But you never know. Things can simmer below the surface.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience, Livie? You’re not involved with anyone, are you?” Jilly frowned. “I got the impression that you weren’t seeing anyone, and that there hadn’t been anyone important in your life for a while. Actually, not since...”

Olivia’s cheeks filled with color. “Since Rafe. Go on and say it. Everyone assumes that. Unfortunately, it’s pretty close to the truth. There were a few near misses, one in Italy. But there is
nothing
going on between Rafe and me. I’d appreciate it if you would remember that. And don’t start matchmaking. It will only make it harder for both of us,” Olivia said firmly.

Even Jilly, stubborn as she was, could hear the cold determination in those words.

But Jilly also heard the pain Olivia thought she could conceal.

“Fine.” Jilly threw up her hands in surrender. “No matchmaking, I promise. It’s just that—Rafe’s a good man, Livie. He had his wild days, but he’s grown up. He’s...different now. I think he may actually stay here on Summer Island. I don’t think this is a temporary job for him.”

Olivia gave a little jerk. The jar of blueberry preserves dropped from her hands and exploded against the floor. She didn’t move, staring at the shattered pieces of glass buried in dark fruit.

Quietly Jilly began picking up pieces of broken glass. “You want to tell me what’s
really
going on, Livie? You’re both so tense when you’re together that the air seethes. And when you look at each other—forget it. It could be lightning and ozone snapping. Do you want to explain that?”

“No,” Olivia said flatly. “So mind your own business.”

Jilly kept working with slow, careful movements. “Walker’s asked Rafe to work on the plumbing. You’re bound to see each other at the house.”

That was the last thing Olivia wanted to hear. But she managed to keep her voice calm and give Jilly a brief answer. “It’s...very uncomfortable. Both of us are remembering things that we wish we hadn’t said or done. It’s better if we keep our distance. I’m counting on you to help make that happen, Jilly.”

Jilly finished cleaning up the mess, her head averted. “I’ll do whatever I can. If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure. This is important, Jilly.” Olivia squared her shoulders. “Rafe and I talked it over. This is what we both want. Just please give us some distance.”

Jilly sighed. “Sure. Whatever. It’s your choice.” But she didn’t sound as if she believed it, not for a second.

* * *

A
FTER
J
ILLY LEFT
, Olivia climbed up two floors to the big attic, where her father had stored old clothes, schoolbooks and broken toys. Frugal by nature, Sawyer Sullivan had never been one to give away anything. All their memories were stored up here. It was the last place where Olivia could find answers about what had happened at the end of his life. There was so much she didn’t understand.

Shadows fell through the long room, brushing the dusty shelves with old dresses, rabbits with torn ears and Olivia’s forgotten childhood tea set. Each thing she touched tugged at her heart. It had been too long since she had faced the past, too long since she had accepted her mother’s abandonment of the family. The news of her death the following year was a wound that had never quite healed.

Olivia stood for long moments, listening to the silence and the creaks of the lonely old house. She told herself this was the past. She couldn’t change it. All she could do was embrace it.

Olivia crossed to the nearest box, sneezing as she opened the lid. Inside she found old photographs of her father’s expensive cars, which he had replaced every year like clockwork.

Beneath the photos Olivia found all her school yearbooks, the bronze desk set that her father had been given by the town when he retired as mayor for a second term and an old diary that she had kept for one month in fourth grade.

It pained her to see that even then, Rafe had figured in most of her entries. She hadn’t realized that she had been crazy about him for so long.

She snapped the diary shut and tossed it into a nearby box. Enough thinking about Rafe and his insidious charm.

She had to concentrate on her survival.

She kept searching, hoping for a document or letter to explain her father’s state of mind the last months of his life, when he had made such a dismal mess of his finances and the finances of his daughter. With one or two clues, Walker’s sister might be able to trace the missing accounts that no one else could locate.

Olivia hated to ask for help. It went totally against her nature and upbringing. But Jilly was right. When Jilly had faced the worst news of her life, her friends had been right beside her. They had all learned something from that process.

Olivia closed the last box and turned, staring down through the narrow oriel window at the gray cove. Now
she
would have to swallow her pride and allow her friends to help.

* * *

J
ILLY STACKED SPICES
in the new canisters she had found in Colorado, enjoying the bright colors against her stainless-steel counters. She was still thinking about all that Olivia had told her.

She jumped as Walker pulled her into his arms and kissed the soft line of her neck. “Everything going well on your negotiations for a distributor? Didn’t you talk to two people today?”

Jilly tried to focus. It was impossible when Walker’s hands opened on her waist and then slid up higher. She swallowed as her sweater rose slowly. “I think I found the right person. He wants a larger cut than I’d hoped, but his references are solid. I would be his smallest customer, but he understands my concept. For the long-term it’s the best choice. Unfortunately, for the short-term...it means my cash flow will be tighter than I wanted.”

Walker kissed the line of Jilly’s jaw. “My offer still goes. You know how I feel. Everything I have is yours, honey. I’m more than willing to write you a check for a temporary loan. If it were my choice, I would make it an outright gift, but I know what you’ll say to that. If Rafe and I could hire a helper, we could finish all the work on the house by next week. Then we can help you with the detail work inside.”

Jilly closed her eyes, seduced as always by the offer of finances from this tough, amazing man who had come into her life at its very worst moment. “I don’t want to lean on you, Walker. We’ve discussed this before.”

“You won’t be leaning on me. You’re the woman I love, Jilly, the woman I intend to spend every moment of the rest of my life with. It’s called a helping hand.” He sounded a little exasperated.

Jilly wasn’t surprised. They had had this discussion far too often in the past two months since the Harbor House repair bills had shot out of control.

“I’ll think about it. I appreciate the offer, Walker. You know that, right?”

His hands opened and he angled her body against his. His eyes darkened. “I’m glad you appreciate it. But I’d rather think that you trusted me enough to accept my gift. There are no strings attached, Jilly. There never will be. What I have is yours.”

She made a broken little sound and closed her eyes. As always, this man overwhelmed her. Jilly didn’t have a clue what she had done to deserve him in her life. She sighed as his hands curved over her breasts. Desire left her throat dry and her knees weak. “I don’t know how you do this to me,” she whispered. “But I hope you never stop.”

He lifted her, letting their bodies slide together. Jilly reached for his belt, her eyes hot with welcome.

They weren’t going to make the bedroom. They probably wouldn’t even make it to the little couch in the back office, Jilly thought dimly.

* * *

A
N HOUR LATER
they staggered up the stairs, clothes gripped in hands that were weak from sharing, touching and giving freely. Jilly stumbled and Walker managed to catch her, dropping most of his clothes in the process.

She gave a throaty laugh. Her hands slid along the muscles at his hip. “Have I told you that I love you lately?”

“That’s an affirmative, ma’am. Three times, if my memory serves. Each time you said it right before you cried out my name,” he said gruffly.

Even now Jilly flushed. Walker was her best friend and the rock-solid anchor of her life. She still couldn’t believe the level of passion they shared—and the trust that never wavered.

He opened the door to the big bedroom that they had renovated first, to use while they stayed on Summer Island. He caught Jilly and carried her to the bed, toppling down with her against his chest. “Something is bothering you, Jilly. If you have any problems, you know you can bring them to me.”

Her fingers threaded through his. She brought their linked hands to her mouth and kissed his palm. “I know that. It’s still hard for me to trust anyone, but I do trust you, Walker. It’s just that I’m worried about Olivia. She’s got money problems and her father messed up all their finances. I’m also worried about Rafe coming back. He hurt her badly when he left for the Marines without even saying goodbye. Olivia never talks about it, but I know the pain is there. She told me that she and Rafe are going to keep their distance. Olivia swears it’s for the best.”

“And you’re not sure about that?” Walker brushed a strand of hair from Jilly’s cheek. “So instead of keeping clear of it, you intend to throw them together every chance you get.” He traced the curve of her lips. “Let’s have it.”

“From the first moment I set eyes on you in the airport in Lost Creek, you could read me. I still can’t get over that.”

“Call it a gift.”

“I do. It’s just that...” Abruptly Jilly looked away. She rolled to one side and sat up slowly. “I think I need a shower.”

* * *

A
S THE HOT
spray from the shower beat down on Jilly’s shoulders, she closed her eyes and sank forward, her face to the cold tiles. She was scared. She had been scared before in her life, but never like
this.

She stiffened when she felt cool air brush her shoulder and then the pressure of Walker’s rugged body. He reached up, working shampoo into her hair, scrubbing the spots at her neck and behind her ears exactly the way she liked best.

“I figured we could save money. Showering together is an ecologically sound choice, don’t you think?”

Jilly bit back a shaky laugh. “You just don’t believe in privacy, do you?”

He finished shampooing her hair and then tilted her face, rinsing away the suds. “It never seemed to bother you before. I wonder why it does now.” His hands were gentle, but his shoulders were stiff. “I think it’s time you told me what’s bothering you, Jilly.”

“I can’t. Just—leave it alone, will you?”

She wanted to tell him. Her whole body shook with the need to explain. But the wrong word could shatter everything, destroying the joy that Jilly had come to rely on more than breathing.

No, she couldn’t risk it. The chance for loss was too great.

Shaking, she pulled free and wrenched open the shower door, nearly stumbling as she lunged from the room.

* * *

W
ALKER DIDN’T MOVE
. His heart pounded, and anger came first. But it was swallowed up by the uncertainty that had been growing in him over the past weeks.

Something was wrong. And if they weren’t very careful, they were going to lose everything that mattered.

CHAPTER TWELVE

J
ILLY TRIED TO
pull on her old terry-cloth robe, but her fingers shook too hard and the sleeve kept falling, tangling around her hands, blocking her movements.

She owed Walker the truth. She knew that. But the truth terrified her.

She heard a quick footstep and then her robe was torn from her fingers. Walker swung her around, his eyes hard and distant. “We need to talk. We’re going to do it now, Jilly. I’m tired of seeing the distance in your eyes, damn it.”

Before she could grab a breath, he swept her naked body up into his arms and stalked to the big wing chair that overlooked the harbor. She struggled, shoving at his chest, but he refused to free her.

“Did anybody ever tell you that you fight like a girl?”

She muttered angrily, elbowing him in the ribs.

Walker was tempted to make another joke, but he didn’t want to let either of them off the hook. This was serious. This had to be faced. Life had taught him that delaying hard decisions and hiding painful truths destroyed the things you most wanted to protect.

He pulled a blanket around her shoulders, sliding his hands around her waist so their bodies met intimately. It was a reminder to both of them what they had found and how hard it would be to give it up.

Jilly’s eyes closed. She bit back a sound of pain and worry.

“What is it, Jilly? Did you hear something from the doctor? Have you changed your mind about a future with me and my seriously dysfunctional family? Is there another man?” he said grimly.

Her eyes flashed open in anger. “There’s
not
another man! How could you ask a thing like that?”

Walker felt a dizzying wave of relief. He hadn’t really suspected this was the problem, but Jilly was a complicated person and she had a colorful past. It didn’t bother him a bit, but he was realistic enough to know that her past might have reemerged. He didn’t think he could compete with a billionaire Arizona real estate developer or the colorful California rock star she had once told him about.

Yes, Walker definitely felt a wave of relief. But then the fear crept back, darker than ever. “Then tell me what’s wrong, Jilly. Are you getting cold feet about my family coming here and our wedding vows being repeated?”