Olivia (35 page)

“I called her as soon as I got home from Kitty’s that night.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because there was something special about you, and I… I don’t know… I felt like I wanted to share it with someone.”

“What’s so special about me?” Olivia asked.

“I don’t know. Like nothing and everything all at once… You came into Kitty’s that night wearing a pair of purple Converse tennis shoes and a t-shirt that said ‘good girls don’t poop,’ with your hair all piled up on your head in this bird’s nest of a mess… You slid a quarter in the jukebox and slapped your hand on the bar and called me Georgie Porgie Puddin’ and Pie. You drank five beers in an hour, annoyed the hell out of me, and refused to go home until I danced with you. And Liv, when we danced…” George took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I miss you, Baby Girl. Maybe I should blow off my date with my mom and come home now.”

“I wouldn’t object to that.” Olivia smiled. She scooped up a handful of bubbles and watched as they squished through her fingers when she closed her hand. “The water’s warm and there’s plenty of room for you in here.”

“Where are you?”

“In the tub, covered in strawberry bubbles.” She smiled bigger.

George smiled on his end. At the speed of light, it traveled the distance between them and slipped around her heart, warming her body and soul. “You’re killing me here, Liv. Not fair.”

“So come get me and I’ll kill you in person.”

“Tomorrow night,” he promised. “It might be late.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“I love you, Baby Girl.”

“Sweet dreams, Georgie.”

She kissed the phone and let it slip out of her hand onto the bath mat, then slid under the surface of the water. No Kitty’s meant no George. He might stay for awhile, but he would leave eventually. He was a city boy, born and raised, and he belonged in Omaha. She always knew she would lose him someday, she just hated that it had happened so fast. She only hoped he would stick around long enough to hook up with Clete. She could handle that. It hurt less to lose your heart when two other hearts collided in the aftermath.

At least she hoped so.

When the bathwater chilled, she stepped out and dried off enough to not drip on the floor, then wrapped the towel around her body and tiptoed to the kitchen for a beer. The television in the living room was on, but Clete wasn’t watching it. He was sound asleep on the sofa, a soft snore rising from his chest. She opened the fridge very carefully to minimize the suction noise from the seal so it wouldn’t wake him up, and grabbed a beer.

On her way back to bed, she picked up the remote and snapped the TV off. She looked down on Clete in the soft glow of the porch light seeping through the front windows and wondered for the hundredth time why he didn’t sleep in his bed. She’d asked him before, but he hadn’t answered her. Deep down, he had to know why.

“Go to bed, Olivia,” Clete mumbled, his words not interrupting his snores.

“George is coming home tomorrow,” she said.

“Good.”

“He lost Kitty’s.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath and cleared the sleep from his throat with a cough.

“You talked to him?” she asked in surprise.

“Yeah. This morning, while you were sleeping.”

“Oh.”

Clete opened his eyes and looked at her. “Little late for a beer isn’t it?”

“It five o’clock somewhere,” she said with a smile. She tipped her beer to him in cheers then took a long pull. “You want a drink?”

He held his hand out and sat up a bit. Olivia crossed the room and sat on the open spot of the sofa where his head had been, and handed him the beer. He took a drink then handed it back.

“Ok, now move,” Clete said.

“No. You should go sleep in your bed like a normal person,” Olivia said. “Why
don’t
you sleep in your bed anyway?”

Clete swung his legs off the sofa and sat up more with another of his sighs. “I can’t sleep in the bed, but I can sleep out here, so this is where I sleep.”

“Is the bed uncomfortable?”

“No.”

“Does it make creaky noises that wake you up?” Olivia asked.

“No.”

“Does it smell funny?’

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should buy a new one,” she suggested.

“Maybe. Now please move. I’m exhausted, Olivia.”

“How bad was that accident today?” she asked.

She felt his mood darken. “It was bad.”

“What happened?”

He paused before asking, “You know the Highland curves out on the highway?”

“Yeah. There’s always an accident there. I hate those curves,” Olivia said.

“This time a Civic carrying a young couple and a baby pulled out in front of semi. Probably didn’t even see him coming. The semi hit them so hard their car was practically imbedded into the grill of the truck. Everyone in the car died, even the baby.”

“I’m sorry, Clete.” She gave him a hug and kissed his cheek, trying to comfort him. “Your job really sucks.”

“Yeah, sometimes it does,” he agreed.

“You want the rest of my beer?”

“No, you can have it. I’ve already had a few of my own.”

She finished the beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table then looked at Clete. He looked like shit in the low light of the room, his face aged, his eyes weary. She reached out and hugged him again, and stroked his hair. This time he didn’t return the embrace. He stiffened in her arms and pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, confused by his change in body language.

“Go to bed, Olivia.” It was not a suggestion. It was an order.

“You don’t have to be a jerk all the time, you know.” She stood to put space between them. “I was just trying to be nice.”

“Try to be nice from afar from now on.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“You’re sitting here with me—in the dark—wearing nothing but a towel, hugging me in a way that feels more intimate than comforting in nature. If I were any other man, do you honestly think I wouldn’t have expected something more from you than that hug?”

Her mouth fell open in indignation.

“Shit, Olivia, you’ve been doing this since the night I met you,” Clete said.

“Doing what?” she snapped. What the fuck? He had hugged her not even an hour earlier! Well, excuuuse her for trying to be nice!

“Coming on to me! You’ve tried kissing me so many times I’ve lost count! You talk too close, touch too much, and touch inappropriately. And you’re in a relationship!”

He was angry, and anger directed at Olivia always bounced right back off her tenfold. She opened it up and let him have it.

“Just because I
hug
you doesn’t mean I want to fuck you! And jeez, I’m so sorry if I offended you because I thought you were cute and we had a connection that first night. Believe me, whatever I thought we had is
long
gone!”

“Good!”

“So, if I talk too close or touch you or—heaven forbid—
look
at you, keep in mind that it’s just who I am and I’m not coming on to you! Excuse
me
for feeling bad that you had a shitty night! It will never happen again.”

Clete glared at her in the dim light.

“And if I want to walk around in a towel, I will! And if I want to walk around butt-ass
naked
, I will!”

“Not in my house you won’t,” he growled through clinched teeth.

“What are you going to do about it?” She put her hand on the top of the towel where it was tucked. “Huh? What would you do if I took my towel off right now?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” he demanded and pointed to the hallway.

“What do you care if I walk around naked anyways?”

“I care,” he said.

“Why?” She moved so she stood directly in front of him, her body inches from his, trapping him on the sofa. “It’s not like I turn you on.”

“Back off,” Clete warned.

“You don’t like me. And I know you’re not attracted to me.”

“I never said that,” he said.

“You didn’t have to say it. I just know it. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out!”

“You can’t possibly know anything about me,” he said. “You’re so wrapped up in yourself you don’t care enough to take the time to learn about anyone else.”

His words hit her straight in the heart. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck yourself.”

“You’re such an ass,” she said.

“And you’re an immature little bitch,” he said. “Now that we have that all figured out,
go away!
”

“Make me,” she threatened.

Clete lunged from the sofa, and flung her over his shoulder. Before she knew what was happening, she had been dumped unceremoniously onto the floor of Allie’s bedroom.

“Don’t come back out!” Clete slammed the door.

Olivia scrambled to her feet and ripped the door back open.

“
Ooh!
I’m out!” She hopped one step into the hallway. “What are you going to do about it?”

He spun back to her, his face painted in crimson hatred, and made a grab for her wrists. He shoved her back into the bedroom, slamming her against the wall, pinning her with her hands above her head. His mouth descended on hers so fast she didn’t see it coming before he completely claimed her.

His kiss was blazing hot and demanding, and nothing like she ever would have expected from him, leaving her completely breathless and wanting more. Her body arched into his as he let go of her wrists and parted her towel. His hands on her skin were fire as they raked down her body to cup her bare behind and jerk her closer to him. He was deliciously hard, and she let out a moan of wanton need as she grabbed his hips to pull him closer yet.

He ripped away from her as fast as he had taken her, the entire house quaking when he slammed the door on his way out of the room.

Olivia raked in one huge lungful of fresh air after another, hyperventilating as she struggled to right the tilting world. Her trembling legs gave way, her body sliding down the wall until she was sitting knees-to-chest in a tight little ball.

Holy shhhh…

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, at the crack of dawn, Clete pounded on her bedroom door to wake her up. As she stumbled into the kitchen, he slammed a plate of eggs and toast on the table and barked, “Eat fast and get dressed. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

Without even looking at her, he stormed out of the house to wait for her in the front yard.

“Good morning to you, too,” Olivia grumbled under her breath. Apparently that connection they’d had the night before was long gone. Moody bastard.

She choked down her breakfast without tasting it then dressed in her usual track pants and t-shirt, added a sweatshirt for the chilly air, twisted her hair into something resembling a bun, shoved her stocking feet into her shoes and met him on the porch.

“Where are we going?”

Clete didn’t answer. He got in his cruiser and started the engine. She bit back a nasty remark and slid into the passenger seat.

“Don’t you own a real car?”

He glared at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Apparently not,” she muttered and slid further down in the seat with her arms crossed over her chest.

He drove a few blocks to the crappy South playground and parked under a long-dead cottonwood tree. Dozens of other cars were parked in the gravel lot and people were huddled around a picnic table set up with coffee and donuts and baked goods.

As Clete walked up to them, with Olivia close on his heels, everyone called out friendly greetings to the officer. He returned their hellos with genuine, warm smiles and handshakes. These people were her neighbors and fellow Southers, and Olivia felt kind of bad that even though she recognized quite a few faces, she didn’t know a single one of them. But Clete knew them all, and knew them well, and they bullshitted for a bit until the mayor of Juliette arrived in a shiny, black SUV, followed by an entourage of reporters and staff.

Everyone gathered around in a loose group as Mayor Tate said in his booming, Everyman voice, “On behalf of the city of Juliette, I would like to thank each and every one of you for taking time off your busy lives to join us here this morning. I would also like to thank Officer Wade and his team of volunteers who spent hundreds of hours of their own time helping to organize and fundraise for this momentous event. Juliette is a small town, but it is a proud town, full of remarkable people like you who make this community a better place to live…”

The man kept talking and talking and Olivia tried to pay attention, but she got lost in his rhetoric. Fifteen minutes later, Olivia was shivering and shifting from foot-to-foot because she had to pee, and she still didn’t know why the hell they were there. She leaned into the old woman standing next to her and whispered, “Why are we here?”

The older woman looked at Olivia as though she were the dumbest person she had ever met and whispered back, “To put in the new playground equipment.”

“Oh,” Olivia said and looked around.

Sure enough, there was a huge pile of brightly colored metal and plastic where the old rusted swing set used to be. A mountain of mulch sat next to it.
Well, duh, Olivia
. Alrighty, then. If Clete had bothered to tell her that, she wouldn’t have had to ask.
Jerk
.

The day was long and physically exhausting, but a ton of fun. Olivia totally sucked at building stuff or cranking a wrench, but she could read instructions like no other, especially the men. She was put in charge of making sure everything got assembled in the proper order with the correct nuts and bolts. Everyone worked hard and they made fast work of the jungle gym. It was huge—bigger than the one in Northside—with slides and monkey bars and a bridge and a lookout tower. A section of it was handicap accessible, and another part of it was designed for toddling kids. Every single child in South would be able to play on it, and Olivia couldn’t wait for her turn.

Once they finished with the assembly, it was time for the mulch, and Olivia finally got a chance to get sweaty and dirty like the rest of them. She shed her sweatshirt and shoveled and wheel-barrowed and raked. She got mulch in her hair and under her nails and down her pants, just like everyone else, and she finally felt like she was contributing something of value.