With the help of Cole, her father, Jenny, and Will, Olivia moved out of her parents’ house and into her own apartment later that week. Her father had given her a sofa, end tables, and the dining-room table and chairs from the house. She also brought her bedroom set and TV. The apartment was perfect for one person—a large combination kitchen–dining room–living room, a newly remodeled bathroom, and a nice-sized bedroom.

Olivia quickly put her unique stamp on the small apartment. Under her direction, Cole painted the living room a dark taupe and the bedroom a pale pink. He hung her favorite city posters in the bedroom and several of her watercolors in the living room. On the mantel, she propped a framed copy of her favorite sketch of Cole and surrounded it with the fleet of tiny cable cars she’d bought in San Francisco.

The best part, though, was the wide patio off the living room. Olivia planned to do a lot of painting out there when the weather permitted. In the meantime, she set up her easel in front of the big window in the living room.

“You’ll have good light there in the afternoons,” Cole said.

“Uh-huh.”

He slipped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “Cheer up, will you? You’ve got this great place all to yourself. It’s another dream come true. You said so yourself.”

“I know, but I wish you didn’t have to go.” They had spent a week together, and now that it was over, Olivia was anticipating the crash from the high she’d been on for days.

“I’ll be back in just over a week.” His brows furrowed into a comically stern expression. “By then I expect you to be completely unpacked.”

“I appreciate all your help. I know this isn’t what you wanted—”

He placed a finger over her lips. “I want whatever you want. If you need to do this for a while, that’s fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, you’re going back to Chicago,” she said with a pout. “Any minute now.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Whenever you’re ready to take things to the next level, you know where I am.”

“Thank you for understanding. I need this for me, you know? I lived at home for far too long, and I know I’d regret it if I never had my own place.”

“I get it, honey. Don’t worry.”

She smiled up at him. “That doesn’t mean I’m not willing to share.” Withdrawing a key from her pocket, she pressed it into his hand. “So you can come and go as you please.”

“For midnight booty calls between flights?” he asked with a devilish grin, clearly pleased by her gesture.

“I’ll take whatever you’re dishing out.”

“Thank you.” Leaning in to kiss her, he held her close for a long, quiet moment. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about work and school?”

“I think so.” She took a deep breath and expelled it. “I’m going to take another big leap and drop to part time at work so I can take three classes next semester. If I can keep that up, I should be able to graduate in a year—if I go all summer, too.”

“You should be fine, especially if Paolo’s predictions come to pass. After your show, you might be able to quit your job altogether and go to school full time.”

She shook her head. “I can’t bank on that.”

“I think you can. Victor and Paolo think you can. Your dad thinks you can. Need I go on?”

“I don’t need you and my dad ganging up on me.”

“Why not? Jer and I know what’s best for you.”

“You might want to tell your new best friend that I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

His smile was all charm when he said, “But why would you want to when you’ve got us?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him senseless. “Do we have time for a quickie before you have to go?”

His groan rumbled through both of them. “I hate to say it, but we need to head out if you’re going to insist we take the Metro rather than a cab.”

“Cabs are too expensive.”

“Spoken by the woman who made twenty-eight grand this week.”

“And you probably spent half that much at the Fairmont.”

“Not even close,” he scoffed.

“Metro.”

“If we take a cab, we have time for a quickie.”

“Really?”

“Ah, ha! I see your frugality only goes so far.”

She flashed a saucy grin. “I do have my priorities.”

His eyes went dark, and his jaw clenched with tension. “Stop it. We don’t have time.”

Sliding her hands over his chest and up to his shoulders, she planted kisses on his neck. “We could be so quick.” She nibbled on his bottom lip. He was tempted. She could see that. But then he snapped out of it to remind her they really didn’t have time. Sighing, she released him and followed him into the bedroom.

“So if you’re only working part time,” he said as he zipped his bag, “no more coffee dates in the airport, huh?”

“Why do you say that?”

“You won’t be there as much.”

“I’ll be there if you’re there. In fact, I’ll make sure Wednesday afternoons are free when I do my schedule for next semester.”

“Good answer. I’m off next week. Should I plan to hang out here?”

“Absolutely! What about Flights for Life?”

He slipped on his coat. “I’m going to tell them my schedule has changed, and I’ll have to go week to week on my availability. They appreciate whatever I’m able to do, and a lot of other pilots volunteer.” He zipped his coat. “Ready to go?”

“No.”

Cole got her coat and held it for her. “I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.”

“No, you won’t.”

He put his arms around her. “Why don’t you just stay here, hon? There’s no need for you to go to the airport.”

“It’s another half hour together.”

“You don’t have to.”

She pasted on a smile. “I want to. Let’s go.”

They were quiet on the brief Metro ride to the airport, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Because she wasn’t working, she couldn’t accompany him to the gate.

“So hopefully I’ll see you Wednesday around four,” he said as they approached the security line.

“I won’t get my hopes up.”

“Think positive. Capital has the best on-time record of any airline in the business.”

She rolled her eyes. “Save the commercial.”

Smiling, he reached for her. “I’ll miss you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For the trip, for painting, and helping me move. Everything.”

“It was fun—every minute of it. Think about where you want to go next. Maybe New York?”

“You must have a limit on the number of flights you can dole out.”

“Unlimited for me, twelve a year for friends and family.”

“You should give them to your family.”

“My dad has no interest in traveling. I sent my brother’s family to Disney last year and my sister’s the year before. So this year’s flights are all yours.” He checked his watch. “I hate to say it.”

She hugged him. “Call me when you get home?”

“I will.”

“Is it just me, or does this get harder every time?”

“It’s not just you.” With his hands on her face, he kissed her softly. “See you next time?”

“I’ll be right here.”

“Counting on it.” He kissed her once more. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

She pulled on his hand and went up on tiptoes for one last kiss, and then, with great reluctance, she let him go.

Over the next month, they fell into a routine of Wednesday coffee dates on the weeks he was working followed by Friday night reunions that lasted well into the next week.

On one of his brief overnight stays in Washington, Cole let himself into the apartment, slid into bed, and made passionate love to her. He was asleep thirty minutes after he arrived and was gone when she woke up the next morning. Since he spent so much time at her place, Olivia bought him a lamp and an alarm clock for his side of the bed. The situation wasn’t ideal, but they spent more time together than some couples who lived in the same city. For now, they were making it work.

Her parents’ house sold in early December. Olivia and her brothers helped their father move into the modest townhouse he was renting until he got back on his feet. Her mother had consented to a second month in rehab, and Jerry reported that Mary seemed to be making some progress.

Olivia hadn’t been able to bring herself to visit her mother. Cole had offered to go with her the next time he was in town, and she’d agreed to think about it. Things were going so well in her own life just then that she hated the idea of letting her mother’s drama detract from her happiness.

Three days before Christmas, Olivia took the final exam in her international business class and bid adieu to her friends and professors in the business school. She skipped down the stairs of the Kogod Building, wishing she could scream at the top of her lungs that she was now officially an art major!

Since she couldn’t very well do that, she called Cole to share the news.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Who cares? It’s over!”

“You care, or you wouldn’t have studied like crazy.”

“How are you feeling?” A bad cold had grounded him for a week, and he had been miserable and grumpy every time she talked to him.

“Terrible.”

“Poor baby. I’ll be there soon to take care of you. Three more days.”

“That’s too long.”

Olivia smiled at his petulant tone. Whoever coined the adage that men made lousy patients had never met a sick pilot. “Good thing you had next week off anyway so you can recover.”

“Yeah, I guess. Flights for Life called today to ask if I’d take a flight on Tuesday.”

“Will you be able to fly by then?”

“God, I hope so. How do you feel about Houston?”

“Hard to say since I’ve never been there.”

“It would be an overnight since they’re admitting the child for a night. Want to go with me? Be my co-pilot?”

“So, like, you would fly us to Houston?”

A cough cut off his laughter. “That’s the idea. But if you’re not up for it, I’ll tell them I can’t do it.”

“You’ve missed so many weeks already because of me. I don’t want you to miss another.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Sure,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “Why not?”

He laughed at her reluctance. “You might get a reprieve if this goddamned cold doesn’t clear up in time.”

“Are you still going home for Christmas?”

“Yeah, my dad would be heartbroken if I didn’t go.”

“We’ll have our own celebration when I get there.”

“You bet we will. Hurry up, will you? I need you to rub Vicks on my chest and make me chicken soup.”

She snorted. “I’m an artist, not a nurse.”

“Well, listen to you.”

“What? I was only kidding. I can’t wait to take care of you.”

“I meant listen to you calling yourself an artist. That wouldn’t have happened a couple of months ago.”

“You’re right,” she said, surprised by the revelation and the notion that she now considered herself first and foremost an artist.

“Have you talked to Paolo?”

“Briefly this morning. The show’s set for March 18.”

“I’ll put in for some time off so I can be there.”

“That’d be great. Everyone here is talking about going out for it.”

“I should hope so. It’s a huge deal.”

“My stomach hurts just thinking about it.”

“It’ll be awesome. Don’t worry.” He was hit with a fit of sneezing.

“Bless you,” she said with a wince. “I should let you get some rest.”

“I’ll call you later.”

“Don’t worry about it. Focus on getting better.”

“I hope you don’t catch it from me.”

“Just to be safe, I won’t kiss you.”

“The hell you won’t.”

Olivia laughed at both his gravelly voice and fierce tone. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

He sneezed again and said, “Sleep tight.”

* * *

On Christmas night, after his brother and sister and their families had left, Cole sat in his mother’s recliner in the family room and closed his eyes, hoping to calm the pounding in his head.

“You look like hell, son,” his father said as he came into the room with a cup of steaming tea. With a sheepish grin, he added, “I thought this might help.”

Touched, Cole accepted the lemon tea his mother had always made for them when they were sick. “Thank you.”

“Mother always said lemon tea could cure any ill.”

“Yeah,” Cole said, his throat tightening with emotion as it had many times throughout the long day at home. He’d noticed his father’s attempts to replicate his mother’s holiday decorating style. The tree was right where it always was, to the left of the fireplace, her acorn wreath hung on the front door, and battery-powered candles lit every window. Cole appreciated the effort his father had made to make the holiday seem normal, and he knew his siblings did, too. Nothing about it, however, was normal, and they were all painfully aware of that.

Cole put down the tea and got up. “I’ll be right back.” He went into his old bedroom and returned a minute later with a wrapped gift that he handed to his father.

“Another one? Are you made of money these days?”

Cole smiled. “I got this one for free.”

“Is that so?” Joe tore the paper off the gift. “Oh. Oh, wow. Well, will you look at that?” Uncovering the framed drawing Olivia had done of his son, his eyes went glassy with tears.

“What do you think?”

Joe brushed imaginary dust off the glass. “The person who did this certainly knows you.”

“She didn’t know me all that well at the time.”

“Yet she captured you. Right down to that arrogant little grin.”

Cole laughed. “I knew you’d love that.”

“This is wonderful.” Joe couldn’t stop staring at it. “She has a real gift.”

“That’s what I keep telling her.”

Setting the picture on the table next to his chair, Joe turned to Cole. “Who is she?”

“Olivia.” Just saying her name sent a rush of longing through him. How he wished they could have spent the holiday together. Maybe next year.

“And this Olivia is someone important?”

“Very.”

Joe’s face lit up with delight. “You don’t say. Well, it’s about damned time!”

Cole laughed, which made him cough. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“When do I get to meet this very important Olivia?”

“She’s flying out tomorrow. I thought maybe I’d bring her home next weekend if that’s okay with you.”

Joe reached over to rest his hand on top of his son’s. “That’s more than okay.”

* * *

Olivia arrived in Chicago the following afternoon. “Oh,” she sighed when she saw him leaning against a wall outside security. “You look awful.”

“Nice to see you, too, babe.” He scooped her into a big hug and kissed her cheek.

“You’re burning up! You should’ve stayed home. I could’ve taken a cab.”

“Since you don’t take cabs and there’s no train to my house, I figured I’d better pick you up.” He took her bag and led her to the escalator. “How was the flight?”

“Kind of scary.”

“Why? Was it bumpy?”

“Not really.”

“Then why were you scared?”

“I didn’t have my own personal pilot with me to explain every weird noise.”

Smiling, he put his arm around her. “There’s nothing to be scared of.” He was so congested he didn’t even sound like himself. “I’ve told you that.”

“Sure, if you’re you, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

His laugh was interrupted by a deep, hacking cough. “God, I’m a walking germ factory. You should stay as far away from me as you can get.”

“No way.”

“Good answer.” He led her to the parking garage. “I’m so bummed. I had all kinds of things I wanted to do when you were here, but I don’t feel like doing shit.”

“That’s all right. I’ll be perfectly happy to curl up with you on the sofa and watch movie after movie until you feel better.”

“Sounds good to me.” He dug his keys out of his coat pocket.

Olivia’s eyes widened when she saw the taillights flash on a shiny black Mustang GT. “No way.”

“Yes, way.”

She ran a hand over the tailfin. “Oh! It’s gorgeous.”

“I love it,” he confessed as he stashed her bag in the trunk. “I’ve always wanted one, and I finally took the plunge last summer.”

“I should’ve figured you for a muscle car,” she teased. “Your need for speed and all that. Do you want me to drive? Since you’re not feeling good?”

He held the passenger door for her. “Ah, no. That’s okay.”

Crossing her arms, she studied him. “You don’t trust me with your baby, do you?”

“I never said that. It’s just that no one else has ever, well…”

Olivia cracked up. “You’ve never let anyone else drive it, have you?”

His cheeks reddened. “No.”

“Hmm.” She held out her hand. “Prove your love?”

“Liv.”

“You’re sick. I’m here to take care of you. The least you can do after I’ve come all this way is let me drive you home.”

“I don’t know about this.”

“Keys, please.”

“When was the last time you even drove?”

She had to think about that. “The weekend you rented the Toyota in D.C.”

“Then you’re out of practice.”

“And you’re high on cold medicine. Which is worse?” When he had no answer for that, she played her trump card. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I do, but not with—”

“Your car?” She took the keys from him and walked around to the driver’s side.

“Liv.”

God, he was a whiner when he was sick!

“Come on,” he pleaded.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you coming with me?”

“Since you have no clue where you’re going, I guess I’m coming with you.”

With a victorious smile, Olivia got into the driver’s seat and got busy rearranging all the mirrors. She heard him groan under his breath.

“Go easy with the clutch. It’s temperamental.”

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ve been driving a stick since I was fifteen. My dad’s into cars, remember?” She fired up the car and sat back for a minute to listen to the roar of the powerful engine. “Wow. Tell me we get some interstate action on the way home.”

This time when he groaned, he made no effort to hide it.

“Oh, goodie!” She shifted into reverse and left some rubber on her way out of the parking space.

“If I was sick before,” he muttered as they pulled up to the tollbooth, “I’m dead now.”

“Shut up and pay the man.”

By the time they reached his complex twenty-six minutes later, Cole was even paler than he’d been before.

“That was so awesome,” Olivia sighed as she cut the engine and returned his keys.

“Yeah,” he said, dripping with sarcasm. “Awesome. I hope you enjoyed taking advantage of a sick person because you won’t get away with that twice.”

“It was so worth it. I’ve never driven such a cool car.”

He softened somewhat at that. “You do have a way with a stick.”

She flashed him a huge grin and followed him up the stairs to his townhouse. “Are we still talking about the car?”

He laughed so hard he ended up coughing. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“I’ll try not to,” she said, forcing a solemn expression. She was so damned glad to see him she didn’t even care that he was a walking germ factory. “Oh, this is beautiful!” Walking ahead of him into the living room, she took in the dark leather furniture, glass tables, and flat-screen TV. Everything about the place was masculine, but there were feminine touches, too, like the silk flowers on the dining-room table and the window treatments. “Did you do this?”

“With a little help from my mother and sister. But most of it was me. You like?”

“I love.”

“So you could—maybe someday—see yourself living here?”

“Tell me the truth—did you have the place professionally decorated so I’d want to move here immediately?”

“No,” he said with a grin, “but that would’ve been a good strategy.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I missed you so much.”

“Me, too.”

He kissed her neck, her jaw, and her cheek, and nibbled on her earlobe, but he was careful to avoid her mouth. “I want to take you straight upstairs to bed, but I don’t think I’ve got it in me tonight. Will you be disappointed if we just chill?”

“Of course not.” She helped him out of his coat and led him to the sofa. “I’ll make us something to eat while you take a nap.”

“You don’t know where anything is.”

“I’ll figure it out.” Brushing her hand over his eyes, she urged him to close them. “Sleep.”

He kept his eyes closed. “I don’t want to sleep when you’re here. I want to be with you.”

“We have a whole week. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Pinky swear?”

She kissed him lightly on the lips and wrapped her finger around his. “Pinky swear.”