9. Olive
olive
I looked around my room for the millionth time and huffed with frustration.
Tossing my hair up in a messy bun, I got down on my knees to look under my bed.
“Where are you?” I said to no one.
A cardigan I wanted to wear now that the temps were dropping was nowhere to be found. It was one of my favorites since Scarlett had made it for me, and it was one of a kind. Not only that, it was super comfy and would have gone great with my outfit for my date with Luke.
The doorbell rang. Speaking of.
I got up off the floor and hurried to the door. There he stood. Handsome in his uniform, looking too good to be true.
“Fuck,” he cursed, his gaze eating me up. “Turn,” he said, twirling his finger.
Even though I loved when he did this, I still rolled my eyes. I had to make him work for it still. But honestly, I had a feeling he wouldn’t mind putting the work in for the rest of his life. I slowly spun around, loving the way his gaze gobbled me up.
“You’re too beautiful for words, baby,” he mumbled as my eyes caught his bright blues, and he leaned in for a kiss.
It had been a month of us being an official couple.
Not only had he met my siblings, but my parents as well. And to my surprise, everyone loved him. Loved us together. Everything had been great. Perfect. Too good in a weird way.
Maybe it was me? The pessimist in me waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. To discover my sexy sheriff’s dirty little secret and push him away.
“I’d pay out my pension to know what you’re thinking about.”
“It’s nothing.” I shook my head. “Not worth that much, that’s for sure.” His thumb stroked my face.
“I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure every single thought is worth that and more.”
“You’re sweet.” I playfully rolled my eyes.
When he winked at me, butterflies started to flap their wings in my lower belly.
It was crazy. We’d done so much together already, you would have thought those kinds of feelings would have gone out the window.
Especially when there wasn’t an inch of my body his mouth hadn’t touched more than once this past month.
“How was your day?” he asked as I pulled away and grabbed my purse.
“Good.”
“Just good?” Luke’s head tilted. I knew what he wanted to know. I could see the excitement in his eyes. Excitement for me. I’d never had a partner who wanted nothing but the best for me and actually meant it.
“Okay,” I sighed dramatically. “Better than fine.” I laughed.
His eyes grew expectant, waiting for me to share.
I jumped, and my hands clapped together.
“I got the order for the ski resort for the Valentine’s Day cookies!
” I announced. A loud cheering noise erupted from him before his strong arms wrapped around me.
Before I could look up at him, he spun us around and around until I was half dizzy when he set me on the ground, his arms still resting on my hips.
“I fucking knew they couldn’t turn you down.” I smiled and sighed, resting my head on his chest.
I’d been a bundle of nervous energy this morning, all amped up and worried about the meeting.
It would mean providing an assortment of Valentine’s Day cookies both for the continental breakfast they offered and the ones personally given to the guests when they checked in.
Thankfully for me and my nerves, Luke had been more than happy to distract me into a sweaty panting mess, even if it meant he’d been late to work.
I still couldn’t believe it. I was so close to getting my own shop I could taste it.
“We should go out and celebrate instead of just having a movie night.”
“Na.” I shook my head. “I’m honestly looking forward to going to your place and having a quiet night. I also made these for dessert.” I reached for the box I’d baked just for him.
“Oh?” He looked inside the box. “New recipe?” I nodded, and he looked at me like he had won the lottery. “I’m such a lucky man.” My breath hitched while everything inside of me went all mushy.
“Because of my cookies?” I guessed. He leaned in, hovering his lips right over mine.
“Because of you. The cookies are just a bonus, beautiful.” It wasn’t the first time he’d said that to me, but every time he did felt like a promise. Like the most beautiful thing someone could tell me. And I knew that I not only loved him but was completely his. Mind, body, and soul.
“I love you, Luke,” I whispered. Surprise flashed in his blue eyes. It wasn’t the first time I said it, but it was the first time I said it to him without him saying it to me first.
“Love you, too, gorgeous.” I smiled as his lips touched mine, but that smile faded into a moan when he started to deepen the kiss.
Like anytime we were alone, and sometimes when we weren’t, the world faded around us.
Thankfully, Luke pulled away before it went too far, and we headed to his place for dinner and a movie.
I was stuffed. Like usual, Luke was a genius in the kitchen and the grill.
The end credits were playing in the background as I walked into the kitchen and eyed the dirty plates Luke had insisted I not touch. I might be in love, but I hadn’t had a personality change. No one told me what to do.
I started to wash the dishes since he was busy on the phone. Just as the movie ended after the most amazing dinner, he got a work call he couldn’t ignore. He was somewhere in his home office, a room in the house I hadn’t explored yet.
I frowned when I noticed he was out of dish soap.
After rinsing my hands and drying them off on a kitchen towel, I opened the cabinet under the sink for more soap, but there was nothing there.
I checked in the pantry and noticed the garage was open.
Stepping inside, I turned on the dim light and looked around, noticing a small closet at the far end.
It made the garage feel a little creepy.
I walked over, and when I opened it, it seemed to be a closet. Maybe for spare clothes?
Just as I was about to close it, a sweater caught my eye. A hand-knitted cardigan the same exact color the one my sister had made me. I pushed through the things and stared at it. Wait… that was my sweater.
But how?
Why is it at Luke’s place, in his garage of all places?
It felt like my brain couldn’t process what I was seeing.
My sweater is in his garage? Had I worn it here?
Left it behind by accident? I tried to remember, thinking back to earlier in the night when I’d searched all over the place, positive that the last time I’d taken it out was when I’d had too much ice cream and got cold.
No. I shook my head. I’d been at Pine and Grind with my sisters.
This had to be a different cardigan. Someone else had made this one, not my sister. There was no way. How would Luke have found it?
My eyes dropped and my head tilted.
Shoe meet floor , the realist in me whispered.
My stomach tugged and turned as I stared at a closed box on the floor.
I wasn’t sure why, but I kneeled in front of it.
Suddenly, I was reminded of Pandora’s box and the first time I’d heard the story.
How once the box had been opened, whatever was inside of it couldn’t be shoved back in.
The tips of my fingers touched the lid, skimmed the top, and I swallowed.
Open it , a voice inside my head whispered. With shaky hands, I did, and I blinked. The box was filled almost to the brim with pictures. So many printed pictures. But that wasn’t what I couldn’t make sense of.
Not only was it a lot of them, but all of them were of me.
My eyes shut, and when I opened them again, I wasn’t sure why I’d expected to see something different. It couldn’t be. Where, how… Nothing made sense.
I shut the box and stood up, taking a step away from the closet. The double doors shut in front of me just as I heard the garage door that connected to the house open. I turned to see Luke standing there. Devilishly handsome.
“Hey. What are you—“ The smile he had on his face died, and I could have sworn he went pale. “What’s up? What are you doing in here?” he asked, clearing his throat.
His gaze moved over my head to the closet I stood in front of, but maybe it was my imagination? Maybe I’d seen those things? Maybe…
Maybe all the things I’d seen were real.
Shit.
“Cookie?” he called, snapping me out of my momentary freakout.
“I was washing dishes and ran out of dish soap. I thought maybe you had some out here since there wasn’t any under the sink.”
“Oh. I think I have something on that shelf over there.” He pointed, and I swallowed, nodding slowly. Silence crept up between us, and maybe in the haze of what I’d discovered, I couldn’t tell you how long we stood there, in the quiet, poorly-lit garage.
“You see anything you want to talk about?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
“I, umm…” I shook my head and sighed. “You have my cardigan,” I blurted out, but he didn’t react. He didn’t say a thing. Not a word. And something about that pissed me off. “You have a box full of pictures of me.”
“I do,” he confirmed, like I’d just asked if he wanted dessert.
“You’ve been watching me.”
“Closely,” he admitted. I shivered. What the hell is wrong with me that my body, instead of reacting cold with fear or trying to figure out a way to run, is hot? Turned on.
“You thought I was this nice guy, didn’t you? It’s why you wouldn’t give me a chance.”
“Luke—“
“You called me vanilla once. To one of your sisters. You didn’t know I was a table away. Something about being too vanilla for you.”
“So, you took it as a challenge?” I asked.
“No.” He chuckled, pushing off the wall. “I’d already been following you by then. Watching you,” he admitted roughly.
My heart started to pick up speed.
I thought back to the last couple of months since he had come into town. The way he’d always been around. Whether across the street talking to someone or down an aisle at the grocery store. My nipples hardened to almost painful peaks beneath inside my bra.