“The instructors there are so amazing. And the school is always having seminars and short courses where chefs from all over the world come to teach. Food and culture and people fascinate me. ”
They fell silent again. Olivia’s mind wandered toward things she normally didn’t ask men she slept with. These were discussions for friends and coworkers or acquaintances and even though she knew she should be demarcating a more rigid line between friend and lover, for the first time in her life, she didn’t want to.
“Can I ask what happened with your ex-wife?” When the happy look on his face fell, she regretted the question immediately. “Never mind. I’m sorry. It’s none of my—”
“It’s okay.” His voice was gentle. “She was cheating on me.”
The answer was so unexpected, Olivia didn’t have time to stem her shock. She sucked air and blurted, “What? For fuck’s sake, why?”
Which made Tate burst out laughing. And he kept laughing until tears filled his eyes and he had to wipe them away with the back of his hand to drive. “Oh, baby, that was priceless. I wish I had that on video.”
His humor over her reaction lightened her own feelings, but she shook her head. “That’s just unbelievable.”
“Thank you, baby, but…” He winced. “You haven’t lived through a hockey season.”
“Why? What’s hockey season like?”
“It’s sort of indescribable. One of those things you have to experience to understand. We play about three games a week. Half our games are at home, half are away. We practice most of the days we don’t play. And in our spare time,” he put the word spare in air quotes “we’re expected to do charity work and attend team events. But it’s really the emotional rollercoaster that I think is the hardest on wives and girlfriends and kids. We’re all so passionate about each game and our overall ranking. Your team could win, but you could have had a shitty game. If you hurt, you’re cranky. If you’re tired you’re cranky. If you loose—”
“Let me guess,” she said.
“All in all, hockey season can be grueling.”
“Sorry, maybe I do have to experience to understand, but it sounds a lot like my last year, flying all over the damn place for one event or another. There’s the travel, the work—which you’ve seen first hand how stressful it can be—the required socializing and schmoozing. Sure it’s stressful and exhausting, but it certainly doesn’t make cheating okay.”
“Amen.”
“I mean,” she added for levity, “unless you’re a closet serial ax murderer or Cheetos addict or you snore or something.”
He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, and Olivia jumped. “It was the fucking Cheetos. I knew it.”
And it was her turn to burst out laughing. She was just catching her breath when they pulled in front of her mom’s house.
Tate turned off the truck and Olivia had one of those knee jerk reactions. “Oh, you don’t have to—”
“I want to talk to Quinn.”
Her face fell. Alarm bells buzzed in Olivia’s head. “Why? No, I already know why and you don’t have to talk to her. I will.”
“I think it’s important that it come from me.” And he opened his door and climbed out.
“Tate. Tate—”
He closed the door and walked around the front.
“Shit.” She opened her door and stepped out just as he met her there. “Really, don’t. It will only piss her off.”
With his hands braced on the door, he met Olivia’s eyes. “She’ll give you nothing but grief. But I guarantee she won’t give me a sliver.”
“To your face. She’ll give it all to me behind your back.”
He tipped his head. “Can you trust me on this?”
“Oh my God, Tate—”
“Please?”
That cut off her next argument. She pressed her eyes closed, glanced at the house, returned her gaze to Tate. “I swear, Donovan, if you make things worse—”