“Well, I better help Olivia—“ Quinn started.
“One second, Quinn.”
She froze and stiffened, clearly locked and loaded for battle.
“I just want to put your mind at ease regarding things between me and Olivia.”
“That’s none of my—”
“That’s not what you thought when you sent Olivia to set boundaries with me.”
She sipped a breath and pressed her lips together.
“I have been impressed with the work you and Teresa have done to date. I have heard nothing but fabulous things about Essex from everyone I’ve talked to. And I hired you before Olivia ever came to town. Anything that’s happening between Olivia and me is outside the scope of Essex. Nothing that happens with Olivia—good or bad—will color how I feel about your services, your company, you or your mother. I have the ability to see them separately.”
She searched his eyes, seemed to weigh her words. “She’s leaving. You know that right? I don’t know what you’re looking for, but from everything I’ve heard about you, Olivia’s style isn’t yours. I hope you’re not fooling yourself into thinking you’ll change her mind. She never stays. No matter how much we want her to stay, no matter what we do, she never stays.”
That knocked a little chunk of his heart loose. But he nodded accepting reality. “I do know. She’s been crystal clear about where she stands. And I’ve taken that into consideration. But…” he glanced at the floor, not sure what he wanted to say or how to say it, so he just let it come out, “I am crazy about her. And the way I feel when I’m with her is something I don’t want to miss out on just because I may hurt when she’s gone.”
Quinn looked away, exhaled and her shoulders slid lower, her whole posture one of disappointment and dismay. “Fine. It’s your life. As long as it doesn’t affect mom and the company.” She met his gaze once more. “Goodnight.”
Quinn disappeared up the stairs. Tate stood there a second, listening to Olivia’s movements in the kitchen just a few feet away and Teresa’s buoyant voice muffled in another room, wondering what the fuck happened to this family.
He wandered into the kitchen and watched Olivia a minute while she glanced at grocery items, reading ingredients and segregating different things in different areas on the granite countertops. Her movements were efficient, her hands quick.
She paused, sighed and combed her hands through her hair. Then collected the pale strands into a tail, wound it round and round, then pulled an end through the center, securing a bun without a clip in seconds. She’d clearly done it thousands of times.
He walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her. She gasped and jumped, trying to push away, exactly the way he’d expected her to.
“Shh,” he whispered at her ear, his eyes sliding closed on the exquisite feel of her against him. Instantly bringing back memories of some of the hottest sex of his entire life just an hour before. “Quinn’s upstairs, and your mom’s on the phone in the other room. I’m just saying goodbye.”
She relaxed against him, slid her hands over his arms and turn her head, leaning into him. That small show of affection and acceptance opened a stream of warmth through him.
“How’d Quinn take it?” she asked.
“She heard me.” He kissed her neck. “But I’d be prepared for fallout. She’s as stubborn as you, but not near as easy going or happy with life.”
Olivia sighed. “Well, at this point I don’t think it could hurt much between us.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I know how it feels when your sister is shooting daggers at you every time you see her.”
She closed her eyes and groaned. Then spontaneously turned into him and wrapped her arms around him. The move stunned Tate. He held her tight, soaking in the feel of her face pressed to his neck. The feel of her needing him, even if it was only for a few seconds. Because he hadn’t felt this good, this whole, this complete, in years.
“Take me with you.” Olivia’s whisper was so soft, he would have thought he’d imagined it if he hadn’t also felt her breath on his skin. “I don’t want to do this alone anymore.”
Another chunk of his heart broke away. He was feeling painfully grateful to Quinn at that moment. If she hadn’t reminded him of how rooted Olivia was somewhere else, this woman could so easily make him forget she was going to shatter his heart in about a week. But Quinn was right. Olivia may need a little lovin’ to get through the rough spots, but when she was solid, she didn’t need anyone.
He hugged her tight. “I’m right here. You’re not alone. If you need interference, pick up the phone.”
Olivia watched Tate’s truck pull away from the curb through the side window at the door, with something bizarre gnawing and twisting in her gut. She couldn’t reconcile these crazy feelings.
To settle herself, she through the segments of her life. She was stressed over school approaching—there wasn’t much she could do about that. But just to reassure herself, she pressed her back to the front door pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped into the app for her bank account. The payment for a catering job she’d done in Tuscany had been deposited. She had the fifteen percent she needed to live up to her responsibilities in the scholarship agreement. Which was good, because it was due in about a week and a half.
Olivia took a deep breath, filling her lungs. She pushed the pho
ne back into her pocket and looked up the stairs. Quinn wasn’t nearly as simple or clear cut. And Olivia was beginning to realize she and her sister may never reclaim the unbreakable bond that had been painfully severed a decade ago. Her heart felt heavy. For the first time, she wished she had someone to talk to about it. Tate would be a great listener. He’d be compassionate, but honest. With his recent problems in his own family, he might even have valuable insight for her. But opening up a personal line of communication like that could lead him to the wrong conclusion, and she didn’t want to give him any false hope.
She closed her eyes, dropped her head back against the door and thought of her tiny flat in Bastille. Of her neighbors, Vivienne and Leila, who were picking up her mail. Of her coworkers, Gautier and Jean-Marc, who were sharing the shifts she was missing by staying longer. Of the cobblestone streets, her favorite cafes and their owners who’d become woven into the fabric of her life. Longed for the serenity of everything she knew and found comfortable.