Return to You (3 page)

She missed sex—a lot—but she missed
companionship even more. There was something about going home after
a grueling day of selling push-up bras, lying on the couch with
your feet in your lover's lap, and having him massage them while
you told him about the evil person who cut you off on the
freeway.

Seeing Michael today punctuated how much she
missed that close bond. When he'd left her, she lost not only her
boyfriend and lover but her best friend too. Losing her confidante
was almost more painful than losing her love.

She breathed deeply. No sense in dwelling.
The past was over. She'd made a fresh start, and she wasn't going
back. She was no longer the insecure, clingy girl of eleven years
ago.

The best course of action was to avoid
Michael completely. Striding to the other box, Olivia resolutely
unpacked matching thongs and garter belts. She didn't want him.
Even if the woman she was now found him more attractive than he was
back then.

Hot damn, she was sexy.

It'd taken every ounce of restraint not to
fall to his knees and lap at the belly button ring her T-shirt left
uncovered. Or to kiss the flesh exposed by her over-the-knee socks,
which ended well below the hem of her mini skirt.

Standing on the corner of the main drag,
Michael raked his hair back and took a deep breath to get himself
under control. It'd been a long time since he'd gotten hard just by
looking at a woman. He just wished it wasn't Olivia who inspired
it.

He wasn't kidding when he said she'd
changed. She'd always been pretty but he'd never imagined she would
become so blatantly scorching. Her five-foot-nine body was sleek
with tapered muscles where it'd once been soft. Her mahogany hair,
with its thick blond streaks, was longer and wilder. And she wore a
tiny diamond stud at her nose.

He watched a car go by and tried not to
wonder if she had more than the two piercings.

He would have expected her dark brown eyes
to be the same, but they weren't. They used to show her every
emotion—now they held mysteries he wanted to unravel.

"Too complicated," he mumbled, fingering the
locket in his pocket. He didn't need more complications in his
life. He needed to focus on attaining his freedom.

He looked both ways, crossed the street, and
headed for Grounds for Thought, where he was meeting his mom.

He let himself in and froze, overcome by the
homey aroma of chocolate chip cookies. It reminded him of snagging
warm cookies after school. He glanced over his shoulder, almost
expecting to see Olivia tagging along, just like she did back
then.

Of course, she wasn't. He'd taken care of
that by breaking up with her.

But it wasn't like she came after him. If
she'd loved him, wouldn't she have tried to reach him in LA?

Besides, she just made her feelings
abundantly clear. And she was apparently seeing that Lurch
look-alike.

He scowled.

The cafe was packed. People occupied most of
the seats, some reading, some chatting with friends. Not seeing his
mom, he walked up to the counter and got in line. There was a
petite, blond woman slinging coffee behind the bar. She was pretty
in a shiny, sophisticated way. He watched her as she made people's
drinks, admiring the sure, economic way she moved.

When it was his turn, she smiled at him and
said, "What can I get you?"

"Coffee and an Earl Grey tea," he ordered.
He leaned against the counter, eyeing the pastries. On impulse, he
added, "And a cookie."

The blonde rang him up. "Have a seat and
I'll bring it to you."

He smiled his thanks and headed to a nook in
the front corner, near the window.

"Well, if it isn't the prodigal son.
Returning to the scene of the crime?"

Michael turned around as his mother Sally
walked over to him. "The only crime is how good you look, Ma," he
said as he gathered her in his arms and lifted her in a big
hug.

It'd been a couple years since she'd come
down to see him. He pulled back to look at her, surprised at how
good she did look. She was glowing and looked younger than he
remembered. She was even dressed differently. She wore a long
patchwork skirt and a gypsy-type peasant blouse.

"You're stunning," he said, meaning every
word. He kissed her on each cheek, holding her hands in his
own.

She harrumphed, blushing lightly. "If you
think a few compliments are going to make up for all this time,
you're in for a reality check."

He laughed. Oh, yeah, this was his mother.
"Ma, I missed you."

"I missed you too, Michael." She pulled him
close, cupped his face, and kissed him. And then she pulled back
and socked him in the arm. Hard.

"Hey." He rubbed his bicep. Man, she had a
mean right hook. "What was that about?"

She propped her hands on her hips. "Eleven
years have gone by, Michael. This is the first time you've come
back since you left and you couldn't call me to give me more
notice?"

"I wasn't sure when I'd arrive."

"And you're probably leaving just as
suddenly."

"Actually, I wanted to see if it'd be okay
if I stayed with you for a while."

A smile lit her eyes. "Of course it is. You
can have your old room. How long can you stay? A week?"

He cleared his throat. "I have some business
in town and I'll probably be staying longer than that."

"Longer?"

He nodded.

"How much longer?"

He shrugged. "Maybe a couple months."

She slugged him again.

"
Ow
." He covered his arm. "What was
that for?"

"For taking me for granted." She crossed her
arms and glared at him. "Did you think you could just waltz back
here and I'd take you back in a blink of an eye?"

This conversation sounded eerily
familiar.

She continued. "I have a life too. Did you
ever think you'd be cramping my style?"

Cramping her style? He frowned. "I didn't
mean to take you for granted. I can find someplace else to
stay."

"Idiot. You'll stay at home." She kissed his
cheek, but her eyes narrowed as she sat in the chair he pulled out
for her. "Why are you coming back for so long? What about
work?"

"I'm shooting a movie in Marin."

"Oh." She perked up as though it was a
pleasant surprise.

"We're shooting it at Pembroke Farms."

"
Oh
." His mom grimaced. "And Olivia is
okay with that?"

"She doesn't really have a choice." Parker
made sure neither of them did. "She owns a lingerie shop down the
street now."

"Yes, I know." At his surprised look, she
shrugged. "Why did you think I wanted you to meet me here? I
planned to stop by Romantic Notions after. I have a hot date and I
wanted to pick up something new."

"
Ma
." He grimaced at the
visual.

His mom was still laughing when the blonde
delivered their drinks. She chatted with them for a moment before
giving them their privacy.

Maggie waited until they were alone and then
pointed a stubby finger at him. "You stay away from that girl."

"My own son doesn't have the sense of a
pigeon. You weren't here to see how you hurt her. That girl doesn't
need you messing with her life, not now that she's doing so well."
She eyed him suspiciously as she stirred honey into her tea. "Why
did you pick the farm to shoot your movie? Aren't there other
farms? Other towns? I thought you said you were never stepping foot
here again."

The fierceness of her warning shocked him.
He picked up the coffee mug and blew on it to cool it down. "What?
No concern about your own son?"

"I wasn't, but Parker wanted it shot
here."

"Everett Parker." Maggie practically spat
his name out. "Good thing he isn't here too. Olivia will have
enough to deal with having you here, much less her father."

"Guess again."

"Damnation."

He smiled dryly. He couldn't have put it
better himself.

Chapter Four

Olivia turned onto the dirt road that led to
Pembroke Farm, sighing in relief as soon as her home came into
view.

It'd been a grueling day, and she had
Michael to thank for it. Like a bad song he stuck in her head, and
she hated it.

Her grip tightened on the steering
wheel.

She turned left at the fork in the road and
eased her car up the pitted driveway. "Poor baby," she murmured,
patting the dash. Her Alfa Romeo wasn't the optimal car for pitted
dirt roads, but she loved it and couldn't bear to trade it in for a
four-wheel drive. At least the silver color masked the dirt that
kicked up from the roads.

The sun hadn't set completely, so Gran was
probably still working outside. Olivia climbed out of the car,
tugged her skirt down, and followed the path leading alongside the
house.

Granny Mae's farm was famous. People came
from all over to stay here and study her gardening techniques. Mae
Pembroke's knowledge of plants rivaled any herbalist's, and she
worked magic with vegetables and flowers.

Olivia quickly walked past the empty
vegetable patch, thinking Gran was probably working in the flower
garden. But no one was there either.

"Herbs," Olivia decided, knowing Gran never
went inside as long as there was light.

She stopped at the gate of the herb garden
and looked around. Gran kneeled in a flowerbed, snipping at what
looked like oregano. Mae Pembroke looked just like she did
twenty-four years ago. Her hair was more silver than gold, her face
lined with age, but her brown eyes still sparked and her hands
still worked efficiently.

Stepping carefully so she wouldn't trip in
her high-heeled Mary Janes, Olivia weaved through the various beds
and sat down on the stone bench closest to her grandmother.

"I wondered if you'd come out here," Gran
said, dropping the oregano she cut into the straw basket beside
her.

"Why was that?"

"Just had a feeling." She looked at the
plant and obviously decided it was cut back enough because she
moved on to the next one.

She didn't know why she bothered to ask.
Gran always knew things. It was downright creepy. It was too bad
Olivia hadn't inherited that trait. Maybe then she could have
foreseen Michael coming back. "Gran, why'd you take me in?"

Her grandmother looked up from her work,
pushing the straw hat out of her eyes. "Why do you ask?"

Because, other than her mom, no one else had
loved her enough to want her. But she said, "It couldn't have been
easy for you to take in a five year old."

She returned to her plants
with a
harrumph
.
"Damn right, it wasn't. You were a little hellion."

"Mom used to call me her angel."

"You mama had the kindest heart of anyone
I've ever known," she said softly, all the teasing banished from
her voice.

Olivia swallowed. She wondered if losing a
daughter was worse than losing a mother.

Clearing her throat, Mae pulled out a weed
and tossed it aside. "Your poor mother is probably turning over in
her grave, what with the way your antics have aged me."

"Right. Have you ever considered that you've
aged because you're ancient?"

"I'll have you know I'm not a day over
seventy, you—"

Cheeky
imp
, Olivia mouthed.

"—cheeky imp. I'd like to see you look this
good when you're pushing your eighth decade."

Amused, she watched her grandmother mutter
to herself as she finished the bed. Olivia breathed in the fresh
scent of herbs and the knot inside her loosened a little bit.
"Granny Mae, what would I do without you?"

"Goodness knows." She eyed Olivia's outfit.
"Probably die of pneumonia. Don't you have a wit of sense, girl,
parading around like that?"

"It
is
a little nippy out, isn't it?" She
huddled in her coat.

Without looking up, Gran asked, "So you
going to tell me what's bothering you?"

Olivia heaved a sigh. "Michael's back. He
said he's shooting a movie here at Pembroke Farms."

Her grandmother nodded, seemingly engrossed
by the weed she was trying to pull out.

"That's it? No explanation?"

"I was offered a tidy sum to have them use
my farm for a couple weeks. I accepted. You're the one always
telling me I should have more of a nest egg, for the future." Gran
gave her a sly look. "It's been a long time. I thought you were
over him."

Olivia frowned. "I am."

"Then it doesn't matter if they film here,
does it?"

Hell yes it mattered. "No."

"So what's the problem?"

Just that she'd been sold
out for a
tidy sum
.
"I guess there is none."

"Unless you still have feelings for him."
Gran shot her another look. "It'd be understandable. You two were
inseparable for most of your lives."

"The only thing I feel is indifferent." She
glanced at the sky to make sure she wasn't going to be struck down
by lightning.

Her grandmother sat back
and stared at her, her hands resting open-palmed in her lap. Olivia
had no trouble interpreting the look in her eyes. Succinctly put,
it said
bullshit
.

Olivia finally said, "Maybe I still have the
teensiest of feelings for him."

Gran snorted.

"Okay, so I'm still a little pissed. I
thought I was over him," she said, dejected.

"It's natural to still feel something,
epecially when you loved him so completely."

She crossed her arms tightly. "I don't want
to feel anything for him."

"Best face it head on. It'll help you put it
behind you once and for all." Gran gave her a sideways glance. "If
that's what you want."