— ONE —
IT was bad enough that after going through a very public divorce from the man Olivia still loved, she had to serve him breakfast four times a week. That she looked forward to those mornings…well, that wasn’t great either. But Rafe worked two jobs and lived in a tiny one-room apartment. And the other option for eggs and bacon was his mother’s café.
Liv shuddered at the thought of spending even one morning a week with her ex-mother-in-law. So she couldn’t fault Rafe for keeping his regular stool at the diner she worked at, even if it didn’t help the official party line held by all six hundred people in their small town of Pine Harbour—that their split had been her fault and Rafe was completely innocent.
The former point was true. The latter was not. Parsing the difference with the town busy-bodies was a futile effort though, so she let the whispers slide. They just added to the steaming pile of crap that was her life.
But the absolute worst was that today, Rafe had brought a date to breakfast.
And she’d serve him eggs and paste on a smile, but then she was calling a real estate agent. Whatever cosmic joke had made her fall in love with Rafe Minelli had delivered its final punch line.
He wasn’t in uniform today—either of them—but he still looked achingly good. Faded blue jeans that she recognized from the irregular rip on one of his solid thighs. Old enough that she’d washed them many times. The denim would be soft, and when he turned around, his wallet would be clearly imprinted in his back right pocket. And even though she wanted to grab a butter knife and gouge his heart out, first she wanted one more look at his magnificent ass.
Because she was a glutton for punishment, and Rafe delivered in bucket loads. Tall, dark, and handsome didn’t do him justice. Olivia grabbed a washcloth and wiped down the counter as she watched him guide his date to a booth under the window.
No! She wanted to shout. You sit at the counter and ask me if it’s been busy. I bug you that you need a haircut and we both remember that time I gave you a trim in the bathroom. How you slid your hands under my shirt and teased my nipples while I squealed for you to hold still. The walk down memory lane cut sharper than usual because it wasn’t shared. Even though she knew she needed to move on, let go of Rafe and start dating again, she wasn’t prepared to see him do just that. And the pretty blonde woman sitting across from him twisting the shit out of a sugar packet was wearing one of his plaid shirts, so Olivia couldn’t even pretend it was a breakfast meeting—not that Rafe would ever have business that needed to be discussed in a diner.
He was a full-time police officer and a part-time soldier. Had been a full-time son and a part-time husband, too. No room for a wife, definitely no room for a side job. No, this was definitely a morning-after-a-sleep-over breakfast and Olivia had to serve him fucking coffee. She wrenched the carafe from the warmer, grabbed two menus from under the counter, and pasted on her sweetest eat-shit-and-die smile before squaring her shoulders and approaching the couple.
“Coffee?”
They both nodded and Olivia silently lifted each of their white ceramic mugs and poured. For someone who just got laid, Rafe didn’t look happy. His eyebrows were pulled together, hooding his gaze, and he had faint dark circles under his eyes. Maybe he was realizing just how awful a human being he was to bring…
“Do you need to see a menu, Natalie?” His voice sounded strained too. He dumped two creamers in his cup and stirred roughly.
Natalie, huh? Olivia swung her gaze to the other woman. She looked nervous. Had he told her that he used to be married to their waitress? Used to wake her up with his tongue and his hands and his love, but not as often as he didn’t—he’d have to be home for that—and now they pretended to be friends a few times a week?
“I’ll just have some toast, please,” she said quietly.
Rafe sighed. “Don’t be silly.” He looked up at Olivia, his dark brown eyes unreadable. “Two breakfast specials please, one with bacon, one with—” He broke off and turned back to Natalie. “Sausage? Ham?”
“Sausage, I guess. Look, I can just wait for my friend outside, we don’t need to have breakfast.”
“It’s fine.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand before looking back at Olivia again. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“We’re swamped,” she said breezily, waving at the mostly empty diner. “I’ve got ketchup bottles to refill and napkins to stack, so—”
“One minute, Liv.” He pushed out of the booth and towered over her. “In private.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond, stalking to the small office behind the washrooms like he owned the place. Well, he could wait. She had a job to do, even if it wasn’t exciting or overly important.
“Natalie, is it? How did you want your eggs?” Rafe wanted his over-easy. At some point in the future, she’d forget all the stupid little things she knew about him. She hoped. Hadn’t happened yet.
“Scrambled. And rye toast if you have it.”
“Sure thing. Be right back.” She went straight to the pass-through window, dinged the bell and tacked the order up on the carousel. Frank gave her a knowing look from his perch at the grill. “Shut up,” she told her boss without malice. “I need five minutes.”
“I’ll holler if anyone comes in, I guess.”
If anyone came in, they’d pour themselves a cup of coffee and wait. She wasn’t worried. It wouldn’t be the first time Pine Harbour had heard Rafe and Olivia Minelli have a knock-down, drag-out fight. Probably wouldn’t be the last. Another reason she needed to leave. This couldn’t be her future—petty jealousy and tension-filled terse conversations with her ex. She took a deep breath and shoved the office door open.
— —
She was pissed, and he deserved it, but he didn’t have time to deal with that right now. He held up his hand, cutting off whatever smart remark was about to slide out of her beautiful mouth. “It’s not what you think.”
“I think she’s wearing your shirt.” She dropped her head, like she didn’t want to look at him, and her long brown ponytail fell over her shoulder. One of the sad side effects of not living with Olivia anymore—never seeing her hair down. He liked the ponytail because it was so her, practical and cute and sporty, but he loved the dark curtain of free-falling hair that he’d only seen in private. Now reserved for his fantasies, that image of Liv completely undone, tousled and sexy, was a favourite memory. Eyes blazing, the Olivia right in front of him would light him up if she knew what he was thinking about. “I think you know better than to bring her here, but you’re more scared of your mother than you are of me, and fair enough. Your mom is frightening as all get out. And I know I have no right to care about what you do and who you do it with. I get that. So I will bite my tongue. But you don’t get to summon me back here for a chat while your new girlfriend sits out there waiting for you. That’s awful, Rafe. That’s not you.”
Wow, she went in a different direction than he’d expected. “Okay, hold up.” He let out a sigh as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He yanked it out and swore under his breath at the call display screen. “Listen, I have to take this, but we’re not done here.”
She laughed, short and sharp and completely without humour. “Oh, we’re definitely done here.” She spun and jerked the door open, pausing in the doorway. “Your girlfriend takes her eggs scrambled, by the way.”
She’s not my anything, he wanted to yell, but that wasn’t completely true. Natalie had been his distraction of the month the night before. He’d bought her a few drinks and let her sit on his lap. Played with the bare skin at her waist and enjoyed the way she smelled. They’d kissed, and more than once. But he walked her to her car at the end of the night of pool and pints at The Green Hedgehog in Lion’s Head—Pine Harbour not being big enough for a pub of its own—only to discover that it wouldn’t start. And her friend, who’d left with Matt Foster, wasn’t answering the phone. Rafe knew he should call her a tow truck, but it was a long tow to Owen Sound, the small city the girls lived in, and that left the problem of how her girlfriend would get home the next day.
So he’d offered her his bed. Without him in it. Something Natalie had tried to persuade him to change his mind on, a totally fair move on her part. But he hadn’t slept with anyone since Liv. Wasn’t sure when and if he’d be able to. Unlike his wife, he’d meant his wedding vows when he’d sworn to love her forever. Liv leaving him didn’t change that.
But just because he couldn’t get over her didn’t mean he shouldn’t try. He should try, and once a month he let his buddies drag him to Lion’s Head or Sauble Beach to get back in the game. This was the first time one of those pitiful attempts at a social life had played out in front of Liv, though. And he couldn’t worry about that because Dean was blowing up his phone.
“What?”
“Good morning to you, too, sunshine. We got a problem.”
“It’s my day off, man.”
“Operation Paper Cut has been bumped up. Inspector Wagner wants all available officers called in.”
A major bust. There was only one answer. “Sleep first?”
“Yeah. Report at four this afternoon.”
He hung up without saying goodbye. He’d be there. But first he needed to eat, then he had two women to sort out.
When he stepped back into the main space of the diner, Liv was quietly buttering toast at the counter and resolutely not looking in his direction. Natalie stared out the window. It wasn’t her fault he was hung up on someone else, or that Pine Harbour was so small this was their only option for breakfast that didn’t involve his mother.
Anne Minelli was only Italian by marriage, but she’d adopted her husband’s culture completely, right down to happily becoming a caricature of an over-protective mother—and a nightmare of a mother-in-law to the only other woman who’d had the misfortune to marry into the Minelli clan.
Rafe wasn’t the oldest son. That privilege fell to his older brother Zander, who’d gotten the hell out of Dodge at eighteen. Where Rafe and his younger brother Tom had enlisted in the local army reserve unit after high school, Zander had gone reg force and was currently stationed in Wainwright, Alberta. The only member of their family not in the military was the baby, his sister Dani, and that wasn’t for lack of trying.
Speak of the devil. The door chimed and in she walked. Dressed in her navy paramedic uniform, she was so focused on Liv and the coffee pot that she didn’t see him. Trailing behind her was his friend Ryan Howard, another EMS worker, who gave him a distracted nod as he checked something on his phone.
“Hey, sister-of-mine, can we get two coffees to go?” They even looked like sisters, Dani taller and lankier, Liv shorter and curvy in all the right places. Her endearment for his ex-wife was a punch in the gut reminder that even after the divorce Dani and Liv had remained close. Familiar bitterness set his jaw on edge and he turned away from watching them.
But he couldn’t stop listening.
“Sure thing, baby girl. What’s up, Ryan?”
The other man grunted something about a weekend road trip for his brother Finn’s wedding. Rafe had heard a bit about it the week before at poker night. A four-hour drive south to a tiny town called Wardham.
Rafe hadn’t asked too much about the trip because after his divorce, poker, hockey and work were the only safe subjects between him and Ryan. The Howards had been the only real couple friends he and Liv had, and while he and Ryan were still friendly, Lynn had taken Liv’s side in the divorce in a big way. Which he didn’t care about—most of the time, he was on Liv’s side in this whole mess. She’d deserved more than he’d given her. But she hadn’t given him a chance to make it right.
If you could have. Maybe not. But he’d deserved a fucking chance.
At the end of the day, that’s why he’d filed for divorce. If she didn’t want him, he wasn’t going to beg. He’d held on to the last scraps of his dignity and moved out. He hadn’t gone far—obviously—but he’d given her what she wanted.
Even though it killed him. Not for the first time, he wondered if he’d made a mistake asking her if she wanted a divorce—offering her that out he hadn’t wanted her to take. He never expected her to say yes. That had gutted him.
He slid into the booth with a sigh.
“I’m sorry about all of this,” Natalie said nervously. “Maybe you should have taken me to your friend’s place last night instead.”
And interrupt whatever fun Matt was having with her friend? Rafe wasn’t going to force his own celibacy on others. “It’s fine.”
“Clearly.” She toyed with her spoon, flipping it back and forth on the table. He wanted to take it away from her. Wanted her to drink her coffee and wait for her food and not stare at him like he’d hurt her feelings and she was hoping he’d suddenly see that and make it all better.
He had no clue how to do that. Not for his wife, not for this stranger wearing his shirt. Definitely not for his mother, who hadn’t really spoken to him in two years. “Listen, Natalie, if I lead you on…”
“You kissed me and invited me back to your place.”
“Because you were stranded. It’s not you, it’s me. You’re gorgeous. I’m just not available.”
“Are you gay?”
He thought about saying yes, but Liv chose that moment to deliver their plates and he didn’t want her to hear any of their conversation. Genius move, coming here. Instead of answering, he busied himself with salt and pepper and ketchup. By the time he looked up she was eating. Just as well.
Matt finally texted and confirmed he could drive the girls to their car and wait for a tow truck with them—and even better news, they were en route. Without a word, Rafe slid his phone across the Formica tabletop so Natalie could read it. Relief flitted across her face. He didn’t wait for Liv to bring them a bill. Their breakfast would be exactly twice his usual. He left three times as much on the table and escorted his sort-of-but-not-really date out to the parking lot just as Matt roared up in his bright blue F-150.
Natalie hesitated when her friend opened the passenger door and gestured for her to get in. “About your shirt…”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Maybe if they have another date, I can send it back with her.”
Matt Foster rarely hooked up with the same woman more than once. He preferred to leave them with a happy smile after the first—and only—go round, before any attachment could form. The man managed to stay on this side of having a player reputation, and no doubt the next time he saw Natalie’s friend, she’d squeal and give him a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. But that would be it for them. “Yeah. Maybe.”
— —
Rafe scuffed his boot in the hard pack dirt at the bottom of the diner steps. He’d paid. His guest was gone. He had no reason not to get in his own truck and head home for some much needed sleep.
He definitely had no explanation for jogging up the steps and stepping inside. Liv hadn’t cleared his dishes yet, even though the place was now empty. Instead, she was tidying every other part of the space. Squaring off chairs around the tables in the middle of the room. Refilling napkins.
She reached over the counter for her damp rag, and he let himself have his fill of staring at her nipped-in waist and the flare of her hips. The memory of cupping her bottom as she slowly rode him in the middle of the night was bittersweet—one he never wanted to forget, and had desperately needed to get over.
His dick had other thoughts. Like closing the gap between them and pressing up against her, his front to her back. Hugging and kissing and making it all right.
But there was no magical cure for mismatched love. And anything less than that would just be a variation on disrespecting her. It was all that had held him back from suggesting something casual over the last twenty-four months. She deserved more than a furtive roll in the hay with her ex.
So instead of groping her or begging for sexual scraps, he forced himself to saunter to his table, grab his mug, and head for the coffee pot.
She knew he was there. She’d glanced at him in the mirrored panels over the pass-through. “Your girlfriend get off okay?”
He poured the hot, black liquid into his cup, grateful for the furious sloshing noise it provided. “I told you,” he drawled slowly. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“I’m always your business.” In his chest, his heart thumped a little harder at the way her spine straightened when he said that. “I was Matt’s wingman last night and her car wouldn’t start at the end of the night. It was just easier to let her stay at my place.”
“Let me put this another way,” she said coldly, her back still to him. “I don’t want to know.”
“I slept on the couch.” The words grated out of him, and he knew it probably sounded like he resented having to explain himself. Except he didn’t. He’d come back inside to make sure she knew what had really happened. If he was gruff, that was more due to not knowing how the explanation would land. Doubt that it would be received as he hoped.
She whirled on him, eyes blazing and cheeks pink. “Do you think that makes you some sort of hero, Rafe? We’re divorced. You’re supposed to move on and date other people.”
“I’m not supposed to do it in front of you.”
She laughed, a sad, empty sound. “Hard to avoid that in a town of six hundred people.”
“We were in Lion’s Head, actually.”
She held up her hand. “Still don’t want to know.”
He took a sip of coffee. All the things he wanted to say froze in his throat. Give me a second chance. You look tired and gorgeous at the same time. Are you dating anyone?
“I’m glad you’re moving on,” she said, her voice softening. “It’s been…like time has frozen for us. And we’re too young for that. I just don’t want to see it.”
He took a final swig of coffee and glared at her across the diner. Then he rinsed his cup in the sink and placed it in the dirty dishes bin before prowling around the counter and getting close enough to see the whites of her eyes as she lifted her brow in surprise.
“I’m not moving on.” He matched her slow, quiet tone. They’d done enough yelling, him and Liv. He reached out and put his hands on her hips. She felt different, like maybe she’d lost some weight there. “Are you eating enough?”
“What?” She pushed hard against his chest, but he wasn’t going to be moved. “Rafe, give me some space.”
“Give me a minute, then I’ll back off. Give me a minute to show you just how much I haven’t moved on, Liv.”
Her breath caught in her throat and a tear started to form in the corner of her eye. Damn.
“No, baby, please don’t cry.” His voice cracked and he didn’t care. He hauled her tight against him and buried his face in her hair. Still the same shampoo.
“We have to stop doing this,” she said into his shirt with a hiccup.
I’m never going to stop. I’m never going to let you go. “I can’t, baby. I lo—“
“No.” She struggled again and he eased his grip to give her some space. “No. You can’t say that.” She wiped her eyes and sniffed, then waved her hands between their bodies. “You need to stop coming in here. Alone. With people. Mac’s is now off-limits to you.”