Chapter 18
The level of Olivia’s anxiety had maxed out.
She’d gone from an abundance of confidence that she knew what she was doing and Sloan had overstepped his influence to shrinking into insecurity that he had understood far better than she both the simplicity and complexity of the theft of her car and how it tied into students at Harvest.
Olivia had spent a weekend feeling self-righteous in her decision not to stir the pot of controversy over an unfortunate incident that would eventually fade away as a bad dream. That was until she, once again, connected the dots and realized that it was never going to go away because the fallout was already happening. Olivia wanted to call Sloan and let him know he won. But her stomach knotted with the certainty that he would say to her, not boastful or noble, that no one wins. It made sense that one or more of the students had spoken to him. They had won. Olivia finally realized she was the one who had to get on board because only she had the power to make everything right.
And he didn’t call her, which she’d fully expected him to do. He was very good at setting things right, even when he wasn’t the one at fault. That was also part of his training. Resolution. Not assigning blame. But Olivia was also grateful that his abilities were not only Sloan’s strength but inherently a huge part of who he was as a person, a man.
Had she thrown Sloan over, lost him, in a quest for her own respect?
Why should that be his responsibility when not even her ex-husband had given it worth?
She was miserable and scared when the silence stretched out for days. It was only marginally easier when, unable to stand the gulf between them, Olivia got confirmation from Sloan’s office that he had been called to headquarters in DC for an important update on changes in his field office. Business first. He wasn’t deliberately ignoring her. Maybe.
But she had work to do first. And it was probably the only way to begin to mend a rift that she’d created. Again.
Olivia dove right into it, questioning the first person she’d ever believed knew something about her stolen car. Colby’s show of sympathy the day after the theft had seemed precipitous and detailed. He seemed to know details he shouldn’t have. But Olivia didn’t believe for a minute that he had anything active to do with the theft. Almost a week after her talk with Sloan, Olivia asked Colby if she could see him after school let out. She met him at the schoolyard door through which the students exited the building at the end of the day. Olivia could tell immediately that Colby was cautious and nervous. She wasted no time in getting to the point.
“Colby, I need to speak with you about my stolen car.”
He blinked rapidly adjusting his glasses. His gaze dropped to the ground. His shoulders rounded as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his school hoodie. He said nothing, but he was fidgety.
“I’ve been thinking. When you said how sorry you were that my car was stolen from where I live. How did you know it was taken from my driveway? How did you know where I live?”
When Colby showed all the signs of going into a panic attack, Olivia began to talk to him in a soothing voice. She assured him he wasn’t in trouble and nothing was going to happen to him. But…how did he know?
It took all of a minute for Colby to cave, his voice quavering, tears of embarrassment and fear rolling down his cheeks, his nose starting to run. Olivia guided him past Lori’s desk and into her office, closing the door so passing students, his friends, wouldn’t notice. The sensitive, shy teen gave in to the truth, confirming one of the theories she had formed from the beginning. Colby’s brother, Curtis, had pressured him for information about her. That had been just a few days after she’d first driven her car to school. His plan was to break into her house to steal any valuables…to punish Olivia for always giving him a hard time, treating him badly. When he cased the property and saw the bright new car in the driveway, Curtis switched plans and aimed to take the car instead. In the middle of the night. Easy. No witnesses. No damage. No fingerprints.
“When did you realize that your brother had taken the car?” Olivia asked.
“A few days later. He told me. My brother had already had a fence for the car. He said he was getting a lot of money for it. He told me to keep quiet about what happened. He told me not to even tell Taryn.”
And that had been the second revelation that Olivia added to her arsenal of information and proof. She listened, soothed the distraught boy, and, yes, promised that she wasn’t mad at him.
Olivia didn’t know if she was relieved to have her initial question answered so quickly or saddened. Because Olivia knew there was more. She next asked Taryn to meet with her for a few minutes. The time and place were the same, although Taryn had not brought her daughter to school that day.
Olivia could tell that the girl was suspicious, giving monosyllabic responses and not volunteering anything. Taryn was smart, and she didn’t want to trick the girl into saying something where she might compromise herself. Olivia began by not asking Taryn leading questions but by openly speaking on what she already knew.
“I think you know why I want to speak with you, Taryn.”
Taryn sat with tightly closed mouth, staring into space and stubbornly refusing to meet her gaze.
“But let me start by telling you what I know to be true. Curtis stole my car and has sold it.”
Taryn began to blink. Closed her eyes and gnawed on her bottom lip.
“Colby told me how it happened. But he didn’t tell me how you’re involved. I have my suspicions, but I’d rather you be honest with me. I don’t believe for a minute you had anything to do with what Curtis did. Are you involved in some way?”
“No! I didn’t do nothing. I didn’t even know Curtis was going to take your car.”
“I believe you,” Olivia said at once, relieved when Taryn, quick to defend herself, inadvertently gave up the true culprit. Curtis. “I’ve told Colby I will not tell on him. But I can’t promise what might happen if I go to the police. I think it’s only fair that I tell you, I will have to report what happened.”
“You don’t! You don’t have to say anything. You…you got another car. He won’t do anything else. Curtis, I mean. He won’t.”
“Why are you so concerned about Curtis or what might happen to him?”
Taryn’s expression changed, collapsed. She shook her head helplessly. Ambivalence and confusion seemed to paralyze her. Olivia, sympathetic from the beginning, now tried to find a way to soothe the teen, let her know she was going to be okay.
“Taryn, listen to me. Listen.” Taryn quieted, struggling not to cry, but her lips trembled. “I think…” Olivia began quietly and slowly, “that Curtis is Gaye’s father.” Taryn began quietly crying. “You’ve been trying to protect yourself, maybe ashamed to admit it. Now you’re protecting him. He gives you money for your daughter. He’s trying to take responsibility. You know he’s not going about it the right way. He could get caught. He could go to jail. Then what? What can he do for you or his child if he has a record?”
Olivia wisely let Taryn cry for several minutes, passing her the box of Kleenex that always sat on her desk for emotional meetings such as this.
“I want you to know I’m very impressed that a group of you went to Agent Kendrick at the FBI office trying to get help, not wanting anyone to go to jail…or get hurt. That was very smart…and very brave. And you need to know that Slo…Agent Kendrick did not betray your confidence. He didn’t reveal anything you shared with him. He merely said it was up to me to help you guys out of a terrible and difficult situation. He trusted me to figure out what had happened and how so many of you were connected.
“Slo…Agent Kendrick kept his promise to you. That’s what I’m going to do.”
Olivia could see that Taryn responded as if an enormous weight was lifted from her shoulders, of guilt and shame for, inadvertently, having taken part in the cover-up of what had happened. And now that she had definitive answers to some of her own questions, she knew exactly what had to be done, what she needed to do, to set things right. Most especially for her students who demonstrated a degree of honor that they should be proud of.
Olivia was much later arriving in San Luis Obispo than she’d hoped. It was a pleasant drive but long and meandering with holiday traffic…and her worry about seeing Sloan again. Until the recent revelations about her stolen car and his trying to steer her in the direction of a resolution, a week was the longest they’d gone without being in touch since they’d first met. Now, the silence made Olivia insecure, made her wonder if her stubborn effort to shut Sloan down about the car theft had, somehow, created an irrevocable rift between them. The very idea that it might have caused damage to the relationship had given Olivia several very restless nights. Was Sloan deliberately not attempting to reach her, or was the DC trip complicated and time-consuming, leaving him no time for personal agendas of any kind? Olivia chose to believe the latter.
Any other possibility was…torturous.
She began to calm down as she finally turned onto the residential street, looking for the house number. The anxiety ratcheted up again when she turned into a lovely tree-lined approach to a two-story country-style home. The closer Olivia got to her final destination, the more the knot in her stomach tightened.
What if Sloan was angry with her? What if he had stopped expecting her to join him for the holiday? What if…
Olivia was in agony. And she loved him. What if it was all over…and he wasn’t even here? What if…
There was a car in the driveway, but it wasn’t Sloan’s car. The garage door was up but no other vehicle in the two-car space. She rolled slowly to a stop in front of the house rather than pull behind the car or into the garage. She didn’t know how long she’d be staying. She sat staring at the door. Did no one hear the car drive up? Was anyone home? No longer expecting her? There’d been no way for her to confirm. She’d sent a text to Sloan but got no answer. But…here she was.
Olivia took a deep breath, feeling her heart fluttering around in her chest. She got out of the car…as the inside screen and front door of the house were opened. She jumped at the sound, turning to face whomever was standing in the opening as she lifted the lid of her trunk. She peered around the edge of the raised top. It wasn’t Sloan.
“Hey there” came a cheerful greeting from the man smiling at her. He started down the front steps to greet her, wearing an apron. Olivia’s mouth went dry. She knew this was Sloan’s father, and she was completely on her own to introduce herself. He had a full head of wavy, white hair. And very bright blue eyes…like Sloan’s. She couldn’t account for the smile, since her experience with the son was that Sloan never smiled and grinned very sparingly. Olivia counted herself fortunate that she’d come to see either at all. But the few times he’d laughed had been memorable.
Olivia gave a hesitant smile in return with a small wave of her hand. “Hello. I…I hope you’re expecting me. I’m a stranger in a strange land.”
The man laughed heartily. It was then that Olivia saw the obvious resemblance between father and son. It was reassuring. He was only a few inches shorter than Sloan, but of sturdy build and very handsome. Olivia secretly smiled to herself.
This is how Sloan will age, she considered.
“No stranger. We knew you were coming. Sloan’s been like a nervous cat, stalking in front of the windows and doors. But he’s not here.”
Olivia stood straight, staring at the announcement in disappointment. “Oh…”
“Not to worry. He had to make a run for me in town. He’ll be back soon, but he’s not going to be happy he wasn’t here when you arrived. I’m Matt, Sloan’s dad.”
He held out a large, masculine hand. Just like Sloan’s. Olivia grabbed it and found the hold firm but easy.
“Hi, Mr. Kendrick—”
“Matt.”
“Olivia.”
“Yes, yes. I know who you are. Glad you could make it for Thanksgiving. You’re our guest of honor.”
“Oh, no!” Olivia murmured in surprise and consternation. “You don’t even know me.”
“Well, that’s going to change, you can count on it. Now, what can I help you with?”
Matt was just removing her weekend suitcase out of the trunk and Olivia was balancing a large pie carrier with one hand and grabbing a canvas tote with the other when they both turned at the sound of a car turning into the driveway, continuing into the garage.
Olivia didn’t hear another word that Matt spoke, her gaze riveted to the driver’s door of the Outback. The passenger door opened as well, and a woman exited. She was petite and not fully visible to Olivia from where she stood. But she couldn’t hear or understand anything the woman was saying either. Olivia’s attention was solely on Sloan as he climbed out of the car and stood. He faced her, and she tried to read his expression. He slammed the car door and began a slow, even stride toward her, and it was as if she and Sloan only had eyes for one another. Everything else was background noise.
Her heart began to beat like crazy. She couldn’t move.
The petite woman, closer to Matt’s age than to her or Sloan’s, deftly took the pie carrier from Olivia.
“Hi, I’m Nancy.”
“Hi…Olivia.”
Nancy smiled at her. “I’ll take that. Does it need to be refrigerated?”
But she didn’t wait for a response. Nancy headed for the house with the authority of someone used to coming and going. She paused long enough for Matt to kiss her cheek. He took Olivia’s canvas tote and, chatting cheerfully, followed Nancy up the steps and through the front door. But Matt stopped to speak over his shoulder to his son.
“Sloan, grab Olivia’s suitcase, will you? You know where to put it.” The front door closed silently.
Olivia couldn’t move her gaze from Sloan and his own expression. His gaze gave no clue to what he was thinking or feeling. So like him, she thought, agitated.
He seemed to be taking forever to reach her. Olivia had no idea what to expect. And then he spoke.
“Ms. Cameron,” he uttered in greeting.
The tension twisted in her stomach. Was he teasing? Was the formality serious and real?
“Sloan…” was as much as she got to say, but Olivia was oddly relieved by the familiar rough texture of his voice. “I’m a little…”
He reached beyond her and bent to lift her suitcase. But he didn’t touch her.
“I—” Olivia tried again.
“Let’s get inside,” Sloan interrupted bluntly, walking away with her suitcase in hand.
Olivia retrieved her purse from the passenger seat of her car. She hurried to catch up with Sloan, who was holding the door for her. The minute she was inside, he headed for the carpeted staircase to the right. She followed, aware of the light conversation coming from the kitchen, through the dining room to the left. Olivia was awed by the beautiful and seasonal table setting for Thanksgiving that she took a hasty moment to admire.
She hesitated on the stairs. “I should offer to help with…” she began, but Sloan had already reached the second-floor landing and could be heard walking down a hallway. She followed, hurrying to catch up again.
The corridor was empty, but there was a door open, and bright Thanksgiving sunshine spread from the room out into the hall. When Sloan quietly appeared again half his face was shaded, and the sunlight reflecting on the other half made his blue eyes eerily light and translucent. He stood watching her until Olivia walked toward him, his gaze beckoning her. He walked inside and waited for her. The large room confined them, closely together. She immediately felt a rush of emotion engulf her. She was here. With Sloan, finally. Would everything they had been to each other a week ago still exist? This was a defining moment for Olivia, when she realized that her weekend with Sloan, his father, his father’s girlfriend, a Thanksgiving roasting turkey whose warmth and aroma wafted through the charming house were going to set the tone for far more, maybe even the future. She was nervous but hopeful.
“This is our room,” he said in a low growl. “Okay?”
Our room.
“Yes. I like it. It’s…very cozy.” She turned her gaze back to him, back to his intense questioning stare. “I thought…hoped…you’d call,” Olivia said quietly.
Sloan sighed. “I felt it best that I not do that. You were angry with me again. To be honest, I wasn’t happy about that.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t, really. Jackson said I was unfair to you. Difficult. I didn’t want that.”
He raised his brows. “You told your brother about what happened?”
“My brother has never held back from telling me the truth, being honest. Blunt, if it was called for.”
“What else did he say?”
“That I was scared. That I was letting Marcus get into my head again.”
“Yeah. We have to do something about that.”
She shook her head again. “No. I have to do something about that. When I thought I’d pushed you away forever, that scared me, too.”
“Not forever. But I needed some space.”
She nodded. “I understand. But…it still scared me,” Olivia voiced with quiet meaning.
Sloan shortened the distance between them, a small step. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he murmured, sounding a little surprised.
Olivia responded wearily. “I wasn’t sure you still wanted me to.”
“The way I feel about you hasn’t changed,” he added.
“Me either.” She sounded breathless.
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear—”
“I do love you, Sloan. So much—”
His arms stretched out toward her, and Olivia walked right into them. Sloan’s mouth descended on hers in a powerful, all-consuming kiss, and he crushed her against his chest. Olivia reveled in the way he seemed to wrap himself around her, absorbing her in the strength and warmth of his arms. His lips were mobile, caressing over hers, his tongue exploring with erotic tenderness. She was so happy to be back here. Olivia let his kiss absorb her urge to cry, turning their emotional reunion into a bond of vindication and a wellspring of relief.
There were distant voices from the floor below, some laughter. They were being summoned to dinner. Sloan groaned. Any doubts that Olivia brought with her during the long drive from LA vanished in the reality of the moment and their embrace. Their passionate greeting answered all questions about absence making the heart grow fonder.
Absolutely.
“What did you say to your dad?” Olivia whispered, anxious. She and Sloan stood on the porch outside the front door, watching and waving as Matt and Nancy drove away back to her house for the night.
“Just that you and I have a lot to talk about this evening and were going to be lousy company, and we had all day tomorrow, over turkey and cranberry sauce leftovers, to get better acquainted. I said I had other plans for us…and then I think my dad laughed and said he understood.”
“Well, I don’t. It was rude of you to kick the man out of his own house.”
“Liv, he got it. Trust me. Dinner was really fantastic. But I just want us to be alone.”
“I feel awful, Sloan. You make it sound like we’re two hot and bothered teens who can barely keep our hands off each other.”
They made sure all the extra food had been refrigerated and went back upstairs to their room, with what remained of the wine and two glasses. Being together was more companionable than lustful, and they finished the wine over quiet, loving conversation as they eventually undressed for bed. Sloan set the stage by setting up his smartphone on a small bed stand speaker, the sound just a very low wave of music in the background. He found a large votive candle on the dresser and lit it. Olivia remembered the envelope he’d given her the last time they’d shared dinner at her house, with the instruction to save it until after Thanksgiving. She was now very glad that she’d brought it along, still sealed. She silently held it up to him as if to say should we open it now?
Sloan’s silent response was to climb into bed with her. He stared at the envelope and nodded. “Sure. Open it.”
Eagerly, Olivia ripped off a short end and shook the contents into her hand. Little slips of white paper fell into her lap, along with something else; small, solid, and hard. Sloan silently observed what she was doing, leaving her to discover what he’d given her and what it all meant.
Olivia picked up the small object first, turning it over to examine. She made a quiet sound of pleasure and gave Sloan a smile.
“It’s an FBI pin. Is this a replacement for the one I lost in my great-aunt’s house?”
“You seemed really disappointed not to have it, so…it’s not an official pin, of course. There are rules about how they are given out.”
“This is very real to me because you gave it to me. Anyway, I know it’s not real. That’s not the point. You are.” Olivia smiled at him. Sloan rewarded her with a quick kiss.
She gathered up the slips of paper…all inserts from about a dozen fortune cookies.
“I thought you didn’t believe in these?”
“I’m reconsidering them. The thing is, every time I read one of these now, I think of you. And…I started thinking that a lot of those sayings remind me of you. Us. Maybe there is some truth in what they say.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, as Sloan took her gifts and put them on the nightstand.
Then he planted a wet kiss somewhere in the vicinity of her lips, settling down and pulling her into his arms. “No more talking. We’ve got the whole weekend to finish making up for lost time. I have other plans for the next ten or twelve hours.”
Olivia curled against him but sighed. “Your father is going to have a terrible opinion of me,” she murmured.
“He won’t. He did ask if you are that one in a million. I said, not only that but that you’re a keeper. Do you know what that means?”
Olivia smoothed her hand across his stomach, back across his chest, over the uneven damaged skin from the explosion he’d survived. “Yes. I know what that means.” She was silent for a moment. “Isn’t this room on the other side of the house from your dad’s?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Then…he and Nancy didn’t have to leave. Nancy must think I’m—”
“Relax. No one thinks anything…except that I love you. And if they had any doubts, I think it was cleared up the minute you got here.”
“Okay,” she said, quietly contrite. And then, “Sloan?”
“Mmmmm?”
“I’m glad we’re alone. I’m glad I came.”
“Amen.”
“I thought…”
“Shh. I did a piss-poor job of trying to explain about the car and the theft and who did it.”
She sighed, snuggling against him. “You didn’t. I just became stubborn and unwilling to listen. I’m relieved you forgive me.”
“I understood the dynamics, Liv. I tried not to take your annoyance personally but…it did get to me.”
“Because…you love me?” she asked quietly.
“Exactly,” Sloan said, just as quietly.
“While honoring your commitment to keep the secret of a few scared teens. I had a talk with Colby and Taryn and…”
“Great, great. You know, I want to hear how it all worked out. But I really don’t care right now. Tell me in the morning.”
“But let me just say…”
Sloan rolled almost on top of her. He stopped her attempts at explaining by capturing her mouth, delving into the warm cavern to twist and turn with her tongue, to slowly stroke until a certain mindless stupor settled in, sending waves of anticipation to her sensitive nipples, her groin, where Sloan languidly stroked eliciting short sighs.
“I always knew that you’d figure out what to do…”
“I contacted…Detective…An…Ander…son at… He’s going…going…oooooh…”
“What?” he asked, his voice slurred with longing, seductive and eager.
His caressing hands, roaming fingers stripped all resistance from her, leaving Olivia open and pliant in surrender. She heaved her hips against his as Sloan settled between her legs.
“Yes…it can wait,” Olivia managed. “We have…time.”