5. Chapter Four
Olive carefully arranged necklaces inside a glass display case. The scent of fresh coffee filled the room from the paper cup on her desk and she was eagerly waiting for it to cool so she could have some. It would take a lot of caffeine to get through the day after a sleepless night.
Her life was turning into the beginning of a true crime episode, and she wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Tell your sister it was a misunderstanding. You need to fix this, Olive. This is your fault.
The harassing text messages had started a week after she’d returned from visiting her sister. They’d gotten more frequent and intimidating in the last week.
She surveyed the display and made some adjustments. There were thousands of dollars worth of jewelry in the case. There was a time when she wouldn’t have dreamed about working in a store filled with valuables like this and the infuriating text messages only reminded her of that.
She locked the case and slipped the key into her pocket. Cara trusted Olive to run her boutique honestly and efficiently, which she did. She loved this job and would never do anything to jeopardize it. Cara wasn’t just her boss. They’d become friends. But if she knew about Olive’s past, she might not have ever hired her, and she didn’t want to give Cara a reason to worry.
Which is why she hadn’t told her sister where she was living or given her any personal details. It was best that they kept their lives separate. Megan and her loser husband Kyle were still dabbling in things they shouldn’t be, and Olive wanted no part of it.
Their sisterly relationship had never been close or loving. Megan took off after their mom died and moved in with Kyle. She’d been seventeen. Olive had been eight and sent to live with their chronically ill grandmother for a while until her health failed. Then she survived two years in a shady foster home before running away.
Megan refused to take her in, so at thirteen, Olive lived mostly on the streets. She stayed with friends when she could, slept in cars, in the park, and at the only homeless shelter in the city that wouldn’t turn her into social services.
A year later, Megan reached out and offered her a couch to sleep on, but only if she helped her and Kyle with their retail theft operation. She’d been so worn down, so close to being broken that she agreed just to have some sense of stability in her life. As she got older, she became more and more uncomfortable with stealing, and with a heavy dose of guilt, traded some lifted merchandise for a barely running station wagon she hadn’t been old enough to drive. She made it her home for almost three years by staying under the radar.
Come on, you bitch. Call your sister.
She never should have visited them. If she hadn’t, her phone wouldn’t be blowing up constantly with insults and threats from the man she never, ever wanted to see again.
Moving to her desk to check her to-do list, she steepled her thumb and forefinger over her temple and considered which task to do first. Moving to her desk, she tested her coffee and took a long sip that was cut short when the bell above the door jingled.
“I’ll be right with you.”
Turning to greet her customer, she nearly dropped the cup as Ryker came toward her with three boxes in his big hands and a leather tool belt around his narrow hips. A tight blue shirt hugged his chest, the sleeves threatening to rip around his biceps. Battered jeans topped equally beat-up work boots. The shirt made his sapphire eyes pop. His auburn hair looked like he’d brushed it back with his fingers and it was deciding whether or not to flop into his eyes. Stubble lined his chin and jaw. God. Why did stubble always make a man a thousand times hotter?
His eyes roamed over her. Unprepared for the heat in his expression, Olive tucked curls behind her ear to give her hands something to do. Silence stretched awkwardly between them as their eyes locked. Why didn’t he say something?
She couldn’t take the tension. Her nerves were already shot—which is why she hadn’t looked for him at the bakery this morning. The best way to handle this was with cheeriness she didn’t feel and get him out of there as soon as possible.
“Good morning,” she chirped. “Need a bracelet? Maybe a new pair of earrings?”
He didn’t smile. Imagine that. “No.”
Setting her coffee down, she came around the counter, ignoring the flutter in her belly. “Are you sure? I bet a diamond tennis bracelet would look great on you.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t even know what that is.”
“Not surprising. What brings you by?”
“I told Cara that I’d replace the smoke detectors with more sensitive ones.” He held up the boxes as if she needed proof. “I’ll start in the back.”
“Sure.”
Smoke detectors. Of course, that’s why he was here. Did she think he’d come to see her? Of course not. Just because they’d had brief banter during the pancake eating contest didn’t mean they were friends.
She moved aside so he could pass.
He was going to be in her proximity for a while. Taking up space with his big body. Filling the air with his unique sage and sandalwood scent. Goosebumps spread on her forearms. Don’t make it weird, Olive.
Even though she intended to get back to work, she followed him instead. He pulled a bendable ladder from the storage room and did a double-take to find her in the hallway. Yeah, she was just as surprised as he was that she was standing there. Cheeks heating, she leaned against the wall and watched as he unfolded the ladder beneath the fire alarm and climbed up.
He pulled the cover off the alarm and took out the battery. Twisting the base, he pulled it down and fiddled with some wires. Seconds ticked by as she watched him work. His movements were efficient, as if he’d done this a hundred times and the motions were all rote.
He swore lightly under his breath and grabbed two thin wires in each hand. “Are you supervising or just bored?”
“Both?”
He spared her a glance. “In that case, grab the clamp from the right side pocket of my belt. I can’t let go of these wires or I’m going to lose them.”
He was five rungs up on the ladder. She’d have to climb up to reach his tool belt.
“Okay, um, hang on.”
She grabbed the side of the ladder in her right hand and stepped up, but she’d have to let go to reach the tool. There was no way to balance without grabbing his leg for support.
“Sorry,” she mumbled as she grabbed the back of his thigh.
God, he was warm. And firm. So much muscle.
Focus!Lifting on her toes, she almost reached, but not quite. Going up one more rung, she slid her hand up the back of his thigh as she grabbed the clamp from the tool belt and handed it to him.
He took it and an amused grin lit his face. Her breath caught at the unexpectedness of it.
“Your hand is on my ass.”
What? She lightly clenched her fingers, mortified to feel the perfectly round, firm flesh under her hand. His ass.
“It is?”
Why did it feel like she was losing intelligence by the second? What was it about this man that turned her into a lovesick idiot?
“Yep.”
“Sorry. I was trying not to fall.”
Their eyes locked and she completely lost her breath. She should get down now and let him get back to work, but holy hell, he had some kind of hold on her, and she couldn’t look away.
“Olive.”
“Yeah?”
“Your hand is still on my ass.”
Heat flushed her hairline as she jerked her hand away.
“You”re welcome to keep it there,” he said easily. “But only if I get a turn.”
Her brain went completely dumb. Ryker Mitchell was flirting with her. “You… want to touch my ass?”
A sexy, thick sound worked from his throat, sending heat right between her legs.
“You have no idea.”
Dumbfounded, she could only look at him. What did she even say to that? Yes, please. How about right now? Maybe she should just bend over and give it a little wiggle and see what happens next.
“That took a turn I wasn’t expecting.” Running a hand over her hair, she rolled her shoulders and tried to recenter herself.
“What can I say? I’m a wild ride.”
A little moan worked out of her. “I bet you are.”
Ask me if I want to find out. Come on. Come on.She’d overlook asshole Ryker to experience fantasy Ryker just once, just to get him out of her system. Who was she kidding? He wasn’t a man you got over; he was a living, breathing Adonis who would break your bed before he broke your heart.
He went back to work like this little fuck-me exchange never happened. She turned to leave when his voice stopped her.
“Desi is going to install the same security system he put in Cara’s bookstore. It’s like Fort Knox over there.”
She took a deep breath. We’re back to normal. Ok.
And this was good news. Desi Mitchell was an ex-military security expert who’d returned to Estes Park after his military service ended and now outfitted the majority of businesses in town with top-notch security systems, including his wife Cora’s bookstore. Cora had tragic security issues in the past that kept her housebound and narrowed her world. That was before Desi changed her life and now she was the most protected woman in all of Colorado.
“That’s good, considering I’m here alone most of the time.”
“I know and I don’t like it.”
Tingles raced over her scalp. Since when did Ryker worry about her safety?
“Considering what you’ve been through already.”
Right. That one time she was kidnapped, and he was there to save the day.
“Yeah, I don’t want to do that again.”
A muscle worked in his jaw as he looked down at her. “You won’t.”
A moment ago, he’d been playfully sexy and now his tone was protective bodyguard, which, was even sexier. Unsure whether she should go or stay, she didn’t fill the silence as he twisted the cover on the new smoke detector and assessed his work.
“That was the day I met you.”
And out of all the men who helped that day, he was the one she’d noticed. The one who’d made her feel safe.
“How many people can say they met during a kidnapping?”
“Talk about a meet cute.”
She huffed in surprise. “A meet cute? I’m intrigued how you even know what that is.”
Well, well. Ryker Mitchell had more to him than it seemed.
“My mother binge-reads romance novels. If Fox or I were unfortunate enough to be around while she was reading, we got an earful of the entire story, minus the inappropriate bits, of course.” Affection colored his tone. It was a memory he loved. She’d met his mom Bunny once, briefly, when she’d come into the boutique to order a custom bracelet for her wedding. Even in that short amount of time, Olive could tell she was a warm, heartfelt person.
“You’d sneak her romances into your room at night and read the inappropriate bits under the covers with a flashlight, didn’t you?”
His eyes were on his work, but one corner of his mouth jumped. “Nah. I’d read them in my closet.”
She chuckled. His smile grew. And when they looked at each other, she swore his eyes lit up. Were they having another moment?
The bell on the front door jingled, followed by the billow of multiple female voices. Disappointed to end their banter, she looked over her shoulder to see who’d come in.
“Duty calls.” She smoothed her skirt and went out front.
Six gray-haired ladies dispersed through the store. One of them quickly asked Olive to help find a few small gifts for their friend who was in the hospital. She recognized the women from around town but couldn’t recall their names. They talked non-stop, interrupting each other, and asking Olive questions without giving her time to answer.
Ryker appeared from the back, opening a box as he walked to the fire detector near the front door. The women went quiet, and the sudden lack of noise was startling. He noticed and looked around the room.
A small woman shuffled over to him on white platform shoes. Her oversized green blazer had sequins on the lapels and shoulder pads that nearly swallowed her head. Red lipstick went off the rails in an imperfect circle around her lips and smudged in the corners of her mouth.
“Ryker Mitchell.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Kraft.”
Realization pinged Olive’s memory. Agnes Kraft, that’s right.
She pushed her chunky black glasses up as she looked at him. “Did you come to see this beautiful young woman?”
He held up the box. “I’m changing the smoke detectors.”
Agnes’ lips pressed into a line. “That’s not how you court a lady.”
One of Ryker’s brows hitched up. “What’s more important than the beautiful young woman’s safety?”
The women tittered. Olive’s heart jumped. Ryker went up the step stool to work on the next alarm. Who was this man? Where was the tight-lipped, serious, quiet, sexy, big-as-a-beast man from the festival?
“You owe her a date, you know!” Agnes followed him. “I heard you’re putting it off. Why are you putting it off?”
“People talk too much in this town.”
One of the other women looked up at Olive through thick, finger-print smudged lenses. “Did he ask you out yet?”
“Not yet,” Ryker barked annoyedly.
All the ladies circled his step stool, hands on hips, judging eyes glinting sassily in the fluorescent lights.
“We’re not getting younger, Mitchell. We’d like to see you have a proper date before we die.”
Pulling a breath through his nose, he shoved the screwdriver into the tool pouch at his hip and looked at Olive.
Silence.
More silence.
Agnes crossed her arms. Both of her thin, drawn-on eyebrows arched above her comical glasses.
He sighed. At least he was a man who knew when he was outnumbered.
“Olive, would you grab lunch with me today so we can appease every single person in this town, and I can get on with my life?”
Agnes smacked him on the leg with her shiny purple purse. “Ask her nice!”
“Yes, lunch today is fine.”
Olive put a hand on Agnes’ shoulder and guided her away before she could smack Ryker again. “Ladies, let me show you the new silk pillowcases we just got in. They’re so good for your hair and skin. If I had to sleep in a hospital bed, I’d want a silk pillowcase—”
Glancing back at Ryker, she found him watching her with a glower furrowing his brow.
Okay, so he wasn’t happy about the forced date. It was just lunch. They’d eat fast, shut everyone up, and then get on with their lives. Would she, though? He’d toyed with her today, teased her, and made her heart feel like he was interested even though common sense said he wasn’t.
None of this was helping her get over her crush.
Yes, they did need to have lunch and be done. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to put this bet behind them.