Chapter 26
Olive lay flat on her back breathing hard, hair in her face obscuring her view of the attic beams high above. Her body was still humming, her mind perfectly emptied of thoughts—other than to wonder if any of the spiders residing up there in the beams had watched what she and Noah had done to each other. She turned her head to look at him.
He too lay on his back, eyes closed but clearly not asleep. At least if his curved lips meant anything. At her slight movement, he rolled toward her, propping his head up with his hand as he smiled—the full, rich smile that was so rare, the one that seemed to be for her alone. Secretly, she loved the fact that there was a side of him that was for her only, not shared with any of the outside world. It chased away her loneliness. He chased away her loneliness with his easy affection and the obvious way he cared about her. “That was . . .”
She paused, unable to find a word for what they’d just shared.
He tugged her to him with a sexy, sure smile. “Mind-blowing? Earth-shattering?”
“Hmm.”
She shrugged. “I was going to say it was . . . okay.”
With a laugh, he nipped her shoulder. “Maybe you should give me another shot so I can improve my rating.”
If he did any better, she’d die, death by orgasms. And he knew it too. Noah had zero inhibitions. He never held back, letting everything he felt show, making her feel incredibly powerful and sexy.
It was addicting.
He was addicting. But . . . “How did we get here?”
Reaching out, he toyed with a strand of her hair, wrapping it around his finger. “Lots of luck on my part. And some questionable decisions on your part.”
She laughed. Damn, the man really knew how to make her feel good. A problem, because in her head, there were pretty much three levels of existence: bad, neutral, and okay—with good being a pipe dream. Bad was learning her boyfriend and a good friend had been going at it behind her back. Or when she’d had to sell her car to eat. Neutral was having an all right but unexciting job with a steady income and an apartment, and being able to go shopping once in a while. Okay was nearly the same as neutral, but she could afford to subscribe to a few streamers.
None of the above scenarios required a man, but, like frosting on a cake, it’d be nice and might even elevate her to the elusive good level of existence. Still, the worry that she might mess it up with Noah was high.
But . . . wait a minute. She and Noah didn’t have a commitment, so how could she mess it up? Well, okay, by getting emotionally attached. Except like it or not, that had already happened. It was her own secret, but it didn’t make it any less true.
So she had two choices. Walk away now, or take what she could get until she left. Ding, ding, ding, she chose door number two, and she’d deal with the consequences of that when she was back in the UK, licking her wounds.
And there would be wounds.
But that was Future Olive’s problem. For now, Present Olive would just enjoy every minute of every day she had left here, especially the minutes with Noah. So until things fell apart, she would add a fourth category to her list of emotional states—blissfully, stupidly, tentatively happy. “Speaking of questionable decisions,”
she said. “You might be onto something with your no ties, no strings thing.”
He shook his head. “I’m definitely not.”
“I don’t know, I’m thinking it might be good for me because if the past is best left in the past, then worrying about the future is best left for, well, the future.”
“You’re talking about us,”
he said carefully.
“I think you mean the non-us. Since we’re not an us.”
“Feels like there’s at least a little bit of an us.”
His voice was light, almost teasing, but his eyes were dark and serious. Intense even. “I don’t want to hurt you, Olive. Not ever again.”
“You can’t.”
Bold words, possibly true, but possibly not. She was just going to have to hold on to the fact that she had left once before and had learned to live a life of her own choosing on her own terms. She could survive it again. Probably.
He held her gaze for a long moment. “Are you leaving?”
he asked softly.
“Well, not today.”
Eyes filled with something she couldn’t name, he pulled her in closer. “You’re not going to vanish, are you?”
“No.”
“Promise me. I want a goodbye this time, Olive. I don’t want to go another decade without being in touch.”
She met his gaze, which was deadly serious. He meant it. He wanted to stay in contact, and . . . she wanted that too. Why had she ever thought leaving and staying gone was a good thing to do? Maybe because she’d been a stupid eighteen-year-old. Maybe because it took two to keep in touch . . . Don’t go there, not while everything felt good. The past was in the past. “Promise.”
His phone vibrated, but he made no move to reach for it. Suited her just fine. She was done watching everyone else live their lives while she sat on the sidelines of hers. Her plan was to climb into the driver’s seat of her world and figure her shit out. Beyond that, the plan needed work. But at least she knew where to start. “You said something about improving your rating . . . or was that all talk?”
She was rolled beneath him before she’d taken her next breath. “I’ll show you all talk,”
he murmured. “Until you’re begging for mercy.”
She didn’t need mercy, but there was plenty of begging.
When the morning light woke Noah, he automatically reached for Olive . . . and encountered nothing but sheets. Cold sheets. He eyed the time. Nine? He’d overslept twice in a row. The reason for that put a stupid smile on his face.
He checked his phone. Neil had left a text that he’d gotten permission for Noah to come into the Yosemite office. There was something going down with the case he’d been working on for nearly a year, a murder investigation. A woman in her midthirties had vanished on a remote trail and was reported missing by her husband. The guy had told the authorities his wife had been anxious and depressed, and he’d hoped the trip would do her good. It hadn’t. She’d fallen off a cliff three hundred feet to her death.
Noah and his team had gathered evidence that the husband had pushed her off that cliff, but he’d vanished, seemingly off the face of the earth.
And then yesterday new evidence had surfaced—a distant relative owned a cabin in the Yosemite area, and it was believed the husband was holed up there.
The takedown was happening tonight.
Noah couldn’t lead it, but his consolation prize was an offer to run command, and he was going to take it. He’d have to leave within the hour, but he’d do anything to get his foot back in the door at work.
He dressed and made his way downstairs. At the kitchen table sat Gram and her three boarders eating breakfast. All gawking at him.
He nodded at them. With a snort, Gram got up and poured him a coffee. “The walk of shame looks good on you,” she said.
Not wanting to put Olive in the position of having to explain anything, he said, “It’s not what you think.”
“Sure.”
Gram handed him the mug, waiting for him to take a sip before she casually said, “Oh, and your shirt’s on inside out.”
He choked on the coffee, then looked down at himself. His shirt was on correctly.
Gram grinned. “Gotcha.”
Shaking his head at her, he left via the back door and crossed the driveway, stopping in surprise.
Olive and Joey were tossing a softball back and forth. To be fair, Olive was tossing and Joey was mostly missing the catch and running after the ball as it bounced away, but it did something inside his chest.
Warmed it.
“Don’t forget to keep your eyes open,”
Olive was telling the kid. “Try catching the ball by wrapping your arms around it and cradling it to your chest.”
Joey nodded sagely and at the next throw kept his eyes open as he wrapped his arms around the ball, and . . . caught it. Whooping with delight, he jumped around, celebrating himself, making Noah smile as he came closer.
Joey, catching sight of him, beamed. “Uncle Noah! Uncle Noah! I caught it! Did you see? Did you see?”
“I did. Great catch.”
With a laugh, Joey flung himself at Noah, one hundred percent confident that he’d be caught, having no idea what failure tasted like. Noah hugged the kid close. He knew it was unrealistic to hope he never knew failure, but he hoped like hell Joey would hold on to his innocence as long as possible.
The front door opened. “I’ve got pancakes!”
Katie called out.
Joey wriggled to get free and ran toward her, yelling, “I caught the ball, Mommy, I caught the ball!”
“Aw, so proud of you.”
Katie looked over Joey’s head and smiled at Olive and Noah. “There’s plenty of food. Come join.”
Noah picked up Joey’s forgotten ball and looked at Olive. “Do you think he knows that my sister’s pancakes are like bricks?”
She laughed. “Maybe she’s better at them now.”
“I can assure you she’s not.”
That won him another laugh. “I remember the time we took them outside and used them for batting practice,” she said.
“That was fun.”
He tossed her the ball. “Until my mom made us clean up the mess.”
She threw the ball back at him. “Us? There was no us. You took off and left me and Katie to do it.”
“I was a jerk.”
“Only once in a while,”
she teased. They continued to play catch, reminiscing over the things they did as teens. Eventually, she held on to the ball and met his gaze. “There’s something I can’t figure out. Why didn’t you ever just tell your dad you didn’t want to keep playing?”
“I should have.”
Nodding, she threw the ball.
“It’s just that baseball was the only thing we had in common,”
he said, and tossed it back.
She caught the ball, looking at it for a long beat before meeting his eyes. “I know I’ve said this before, but I think it bears repeating. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep control of the ATV and that you got hurt. Whether you wanted to play or not, what happened that night took away your choices and your link to your dad.”
Not missing the sudden waver in her voice, he moved to her. “Olive.”
He tipped her face up to his. “Nothing that happened to me, not the ATV, not losing the scholarship, or my dad, none of it was on you.”
She started to speak but he gently set a finger on her lips. “None of it,”
he repeated. “I put your hands on the steering wheel, knowing you had zero experience, knowing you were so cold you were shaking, knowing I should’ve turned the ATV off and set the brake. What happened wasn’t on you, please tell me you believe me.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Some part of me does. I think the problem is that I’ve never quite figured out how to move on.”
“You just do. Best that you can.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Is that what you do in your life when things get rough? Move on? From . . . letting people in? Opening your heart? Love?”
“Best that I can,”
he repeated gently.
“Right. And that works for you.”
She looked around. “But no matter how much I want it to, and I really want it to, I don’t think I can make it work for me.”
“I know.”
Something happened then, an emotion came and went in her eyes. Sorrow? Regret? It was already gone, but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t see it. “Oli, you know how much I care about you, feel for you—”
“I do.”
She took a step back. “I also know there are limits to those feelings.”
Were there? He was losing perspective on that the more time he spent in Sunrise Cove, and with Olive, knowing that a part of him wanted with her what Katie and Joe had.
“I misled you,”
she said softly. “When I told you time heals all wounds.”
She shook her head. “I should have said time heals most wounds. Most, but not all. Not this one. Not you.”
“Oli—”
“It’s okay. I don’t think talking about it again is going to help. I know where you stand, and I get it.”
She backed away. “I’m going to go eat some bricks—er, blueberry pancakes.”
She flashed a smile short of her usual wattage and walked into the house.
And he let her.
Four hours later, Noah was in the Yosemite office, sitting in front of a bank of computers, headset in place, providing backup as needed to the four agents in the field. He’d had to shove the stuff with Olive down deep in order to give everything he had to the job and keep the men out there in the field safe, but he was aware of the weight of it in the back of his mind.
When the takedown happened, it went so fast, it felt almost anticlimactic. After, Neil appeared at his side. “Great work, Turner.”
He paused. “I know how much work you put into this investigation. I also know you’re disappointed you couldn’t be out there.”
A small smile crossed his face as he looked Noah over. “Did you think by your being dressed, I might change my mind and let you go without being cleared for field work?”
he asked, referring to the fact that Noah was in full uniform, including multiple weapons.
“Habit.”
Neil nodded, studied him thoughtfully, then kicked a chair out and made himself comfortable. “We’ve never had an op go down so smooth.”
“Lots of man-hours into this one,”
Noah said.
“Yes, most of them yours.”
“And Joe’s.”
“And Joe’s,”
Neil agreed. “But Joe isn’t coming back.”
Noah froze. “What?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
Noah drew a deep breath. “No.”
“He called me yesterday, said the job no longer suited him. He wants to be around more for his wife and kid. Said something about helping his wife’s family run their equipment shop. That’s your family’s shop, right?”
Noah nodded, thoughts racing. Why hadn’t Joe told him?
Neil was quiet for a long moment, and Noah, never one to give himself away, waited. His boss was fair. Strict, taciturn, irritable, but fair. And he never sat around without a very good reason. Noah was just starting to wonder if the guy had fallen asleep with his eyes open, when he finally spoke.
“I’m retiring too.”
He eyed Noah for his reaction. “At the end of the quarter.”
Noah was stunned. Neil had always said he’d leave only when his cold body was dragged out of here. “What changed?”
“Me. I’ve got grandkids now, in San Diego, and the wife’s making noises about moving closer to them.”
He looked at Noah speculatively. Shrewdly. “You’d make a great supervisor of the western offices. You’ve got a knack for investigating.”
“I enjoy it,”
he said. “Which is why I’ve always been in the field.”
Neil nodded. “Yes. But you have a way with keeping all the balls in the air, for multiple cases, for all the cases we’ve got open. You also have a way with people—”
Noah snorted.
Neil smiled. “Meaning you know when they’re full of crap. Most of the time we operate up to our knees in shit, and yet somehow you always manage to figure a clean way out. This job, it eats most people up and spits them out, but you . . . you thrive on it.”
Noah didn’t know what to say. Neil had never been one to dish out compliments. “Where are you going with this?”
“We need you back. We need you back yesterday, but in a bigger capacity. In an overseeing capacity.”
Noah had never been interested in overseeing other people. Not in his business life, and not in his personal life. Maybe down the road he’d enjoy a desk job. But this particular desk job would take him away from home much more than he already was, and for far longer periods. “I wasn’t looking for this.”
“That’s what makes you the best for the job. You’d travel more, spend a bunch more time in D.C., but you’d have your fingers in all the pies. Oh, and the salary goes way up. You’re at the top of a very short list of candidates, and the powers that be are excited about you. I don’t have to tell you what that means.”
No, he didn’t. “I’ll think about it.”
Neil nodded. “That’s all we can ask.”
It was nice to be asked. Very nice. And as he drove back to Sunrise Cove instead of staying in Yosemite for the night, he did exactly what he’d promised. He thought about it. But those thoughts actually went to Joe, who’d never loved the work the way Noah had. It’d been a paycheck, a means to an end, a way to support his family. Nothing more. Not like for Noah, who’d considered the job a way of life, and thrived on it.
The thing was, Noah had thought he knew what he wanted out of life. Freedom. Adventure. Space. And he’d had those things. He’d loved those things.
But there was an odd and growing restlessness inside him that said maybe he had something better to say yes to.