LIVVY WAS early for her meeting with Nicholas, which was a pretty good indication of how nervous she was for it. Tardiness was more her speed.
She came to a stop in the parking lot of Kane’s Café. She had vague memories of her dad’s parents, who had owned this small but popular establishment. Her grandfather had been as big as her dad with a similarly booming voice, her grandmother as sturdy as Maile with a soft lap.
Once Livvy had asked her dad why he’d kept the café after they were gone. It hadn’t made sense, especially since their family didn’t need any income from the place. He’d ruffled her hair. Sometimes it’s okay to make irrational decisions because of sentiment. The café reminds me of your grandparents. He’d winked. Plus, it was the first place I saw your mother.
It was here that her brother and Nicholas had taught her how to shoot milk out of her nose when she was nine, where she’d consoled Sadia when she’d broken up with that asshole Tim in ninth grade, where she’d had her first tea, her first coffee, and her first job.
Livvy was in no hurry to get out of the car and face those memories, even if they were, generally, good. She rubbed her hands together to warm them. Winter would be here before she could blink and Ruthie’s heating system wasn’t the best anymore. One day, she’d have to lay her precious car to rest, and the thought had her preemptively choked up. She had a lot of good memories attached to this baby. Bad ones too, but the good outweighed the bad.
Livvy took a deep breath and forced herself to look at the grocery store across the street. When she’d lived in any of the four states where Chandler’s had stores, she’d carefully avoided them, averting her eyes when she caught sight of that telltale font. Oh, but this store. This one was the most painful. The original, or at least, the store that had taken the place of the original.
It looked the same, though they’d rebuilt it bigger. The Chandler name looked too large for the building, in the space where C&O had once perched.
A flash of empathy for Paul ran through her. How hard must it have been for him to stay here and see this sign every day? She hadn’t expected to run C&O, and it still hurt to see the reminder that it wasn’t hers.
She got out of her car and slammed the door shut, ignoring the way the thing rattled a bit. Livvy wondered whether it similarly hurt Nicholas to see the Kane name every time he came to Chandler’s. As CEO, he spent most of his time in the office, no doubt, but he was expected to frequent the first store.
Like now.
A tall, familiar figure was striding toward the furthest reaches of the parking lot. It appeared as though he’d decided to come early to their meeting as well.
Of course he parked far away from the entrance, lest the boss take up a customer’s spot. Her heart leapt, then sank when she noticed the leggy blonde walking next to him, dressed sharply in a tailored business suit.
Livvy tugged on her crop top, wishing she’d opted for something with a bit more coverage. It was fine. So her former love was walking next to a woman who looked perfect for him, like the living embodiment of the fake girlfriend he’d pretended he had. Big deal.
What even was her life.
As she tortured herself by watching, the couple stopped next to a car and Nicholas bent his head.
No, no, no.
He kissed her.
Her breath strangled in her throat. Those lips that had captured her mouth last night were on someone else’s skin.
None of your business. It’s none of your business.
As if he felt her eyes on him, his gaze lifted over the woman’s head. Surprise flashed, and then something else, something determined and needy. His lips moved.
Livvy spun, breaking whatever ridiculous hold he always exerted over her. She knew they were supposed to meet shortly, but she needed a second. She could either get in her car and drive away or head into the café.
She chose the café, because damn it, it was closer, and it made slightly more sense.
Besides, Nicholas wouldn’t come in here, surely. It was Kane territory. She’d have her second.
Had she wondered where the pain portion of that pleasure-and-pain cycle was? Oh. It was right here.
She stepped inside the café, the scent of baked goods and coffee not reviving her spirits. She wanted to go home and burrow under the covers, hiding from the world. Now that she’d watched Nicholas kiss another woman could she be done with him?
It hadn’t been passionate. A peck on the cheek. He’d used to give her those as an afterthought, when he wasn’t going to see her for a couple hours.
He hadn’t kissed her cheek in a decade. He’d kissed her on her lips—hot, openmouthed, passionate kisses. He’d sucked her nipples, bitten the inside of her thighs, licked her between her legs. He’d given her hickeys all over her throat and breasts.
So why the hell was she envious of a peck on the cheek? Why did that feel like the height of intimacy?
Her fingers itched to touch her cheek, but she kept her hand at her side and walked woodenly to the line, standing behind a teenager blasting music through his headphones. Sadia wasn’t in sight. Maybe she was in the back? Livvy could use a dose of her best friend’s steady, pragmatic wisdom right now. Or the other woman’s threats to shank someone for Livvy, preferably the perfect, svelte recipient of Nicholas’s kisses.
She sucked in her stomach. Her arms, her pride and joy, were still sculpted as fuck, but she was starting to get a bit soft around the middle. That woman hadn’t been soft anywhere. She’d been tall. Elegant. Dressed perfectly.
Livvy wrapped a strand of her hair around her finger. That strawberry-blond shade would look terrible on her, but she coveted it anyway.
Stoppppp.
She didn’t hear any footsteps behind her, but she stiffened, prickles of awareness causing goosebumps to rise on her arms. She didn’t turn around. Please go away. You can’t see me like this.
Naked. Vulnerable.
“Livvy,” he breathed, and she almost crumbled.
It took her a beat too long to shore up her defenses. She stared determinedly at the teenager in front of her. The line was about six deep. “What are you doing in here?”
“I don’t know.”
Hell, at least he was honest. “Someone will recognize you. There’ll be gossip. Scram.”
“I can’t.”
“Nicho—”
"You look tired.”
“Remember when we talked about how that’s a shitty thing to say to a girl?” she returned pleasantly.
“I—I’m tired too.”
She frowned and finally glanced over her shoulder. She took in his bloodshot eyes, the slight circles under them, and swiveled back around. Yes, he was neat and tidy otherwise, but he was telling the truth. He did look tired.
“That was my cousin.”
Her heart stopped, then started again. “What?”
“That woman is my cousin. Shel?”
“I can’t keep track of your cousins.”
“Neither can I. She’s taking a position at the company. A tour of the flagship is standard.”
She bit her lip. Her anxiety and upset edged away. “Oh.” She recovered her aplomb. “I didn’t ask who she was,” she said defensively.
“If I’d seen you with someone, I’d want to know who it was.”
“It’s not my business.”
“Yes it is.”
She cast him a sharp look. “What is with you?”
He met her gaze steadily. “Damned if I know.”
“You don’t want to be in here.”
As if suddenly reminded of where they were, Nicholas looked around, taking in the café with the air of a man waking up from a dream. She did another quick survey. She didn’t spot anyone she knew, but that didn’t mean anything. It was quite possible someone in here knew her even if she didn’t know them.
Nicholas cleared his throat. “I didn’t think before I walked in.”
Not thinking? That was totally un-Nicholas-like behavior.
The line inched forward. “Please leave before someone recognizes you.”
He moved closer instead, so close she could feel the brush of his breath on her nape. A featherlight touch landed on her spine, and she almost jumped. His fingertip traced the hollow of her back, under her jacket, revealed by the crop top. It barely lasted a second, no longer, and then a coolness where there had been heat.
She glanced behind her in time to catch the door closing behind Nicholas.
Shaken, she made it to the counter and placed her order with the teenage barista. He gave her the total, then grinned. “Sadia’s at Kareem’s school. Some kind of parent-teacher thing, if you were looking for her.”
Livvy forced a smile. See? Entirely possible someone knew her. She’d never met this kid before. “Thanks.” She checked his nametag. “Darrell.”
“No problem.”
She grabbed her latte from the counter when it was ready and walked to the door, part of her certain Nicholas would be gone, the rest of her hoping he’d still be there, waiting for her.
He was, standing next to her beat-up old car, leaning against the driver’s side. His muscles were tensed, his hands curled into fists. She didn’t know who he was looking to fight, but then she realized where he was looking.
The sign. Kane’s Café. “Have you been inside since . . . ?”
“No.” He cleared his throat. “I have not. Not since that double date we had with Sadia and Paul.”
She had to think for a second, mine through her memories. She remembered that. A week or so before the accident. They’d had coffee and cookies.
“You were wearing a polka dot sweater,” he murmured.
“I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember putting my arm around you, and Paul rolling his eyes and telling us to quit getting physical around him.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I think I told him to stop hassling us.”
“You did. Then you kissed me. He flicked water at us.” His smile subsided. “How was that us?”
She understood what he was asking. Her life prior to the accident sometimes didn’t feel like hers.
A spasm of pain crossed his face and she drifted closer to him. Understanding and echoing hurt coursed through her. “Yo. Stop leaning on Ruthie. She’s delicate, you know.”
He blinked and focused on her, some of that pain subsiding. It took him a second, and then he moved away from her car. “Paul didn’t change much in there.”
“No. I think he liked it the way it was.” Paul had kept the same menu from her grandparents’ days too. “Sadia’s trying to upgrade things, but it’s kind of expensive.”
His face softened. “How is Sadia?”
“She wasn’t there.” Livvy took a sip of her latte, barely tasting it. She glanced around, but it wasn’t quite five, and the parking lot was fairly empty. She’d parked closer to the edge, and they were hidden from the main road by a large tree.
It wasn’t as good as meeting behind the place like a pair of clandestine lovers or drug dealers, but it would have to do.
“No. I mean how is she? In general?”
“She’s good. She says she sees you around town sometimes.”
“Yes. We don’t talk to each other, because, well . . .”
“For what it’s worth, she wouldn’t react like Paul, if you did talk to her. I mean, she doesn’t love you, but she’d be civil.”
“It would be hard to top Paul’s hatred of me.” His eyes glinted. “We didn’t cross paths much, but when we did, he was really good at looking right through me.”
Her lips twisted. “If it makes you feel any better, he and I couldn’t really see eye to eye either.”
Nicholas shook his head. “No, that doesn’t make me feel better. You should have had your brother.”
She shifted her weight, surprised at the criticism on her behalf. “I couldn’t be who he wanted. It’s okay. I’ve kind of made peace with it.” Much of her mourning after Paul’s death had been over the loss of a possibility of a relationship with the man.
“Maybe someday I can too.” Nicholas shoved his hands in his pockets. “Three days after Paul died, my father told me to buy this café from Sadia. I told him I approached Sadia and she refused to sell.”
Livvy lifted an eyebrow. “You never approached her,” she guessed.
“No.” Nicholas smiled, but it was grim. “Paul would have haunted me forever for trying to rip his place from his widow. But if she needs money, I’m happy to pay over market value for it. I’m also happy to just give her money.”
Despite any financial troubles Sadia might be having, Livvy doubted the other woman would be eager to sell the café or take charity. “I’ll tell her, but I don’t think she wants to sell. And she definitely wouldn’t take your money.”
“I figured.” His smile was forced. “All you Kane women are on the proud side.”
“Pride can keep you warm sometimes.” Especially when you lost all of the people who kept the cold out.
“Tell me about it.” He rolled his shoulders. “You’re early.”
There was something different in his tone, something hesitant. “Yeah, unlike me, I guess.” She nodded in the general direction of Chandler’s, unable to bring herself to look at it. “I thought maybe I could go inside there, face my past, blah blah, but couldn’t manage it. Silly. It’s just a store.”
He glanced at the small café again. “Not silly at all.”
“Someday,” she allowed.
“Someday.” He cocked his head. “We can head up to see my grandfather. We’re a little early, but he won’t mind. He was excited when I told him you agreed to see him.”
“Okay, then. Do you want to take Ruthie or . . . ?”
“You never told me why you decided your car is a woman.”
“Because no man could ever handle my ass for this long.”
Nicholas smiled, his eyes softening. She had to look away. “I’ll drive. Ruthie might be able to handle your ass, but she probably can’t handle driving up a mountain.”