“Nothing to see. They work out in the open. Fight over whatever they worked on while they’re eating in the mess. Then they head to their own rooms at night. The only difference is they only take a strip out of each other’s hide every other hour instead of on the hour.”
I stood there looking for signs. A wayward touch. A lingering gaze. None of that. Just Ark barking a few things that Olivia took obvious took exception to if her flailing arms were any indication.
“He wouldn’t hurt her. Certainly not by making her a target,” Jackson told me.
“What do you think is going on?” I asked him.
Jackson grunted. I figured that was answer enough.
Not that I should care about the love life of any of my crew. It was none of my damn business. I only cared about this situation because Olivia was also part of my crew. I was responsible for her.
Her. My crew. That was it. That was all I was responsible for and not one damn other thing.
“Fuck,” I said, feeling ornery. “Ever since Angel and his damn contest, it’s like the fuckingLove Boataround here.”
“Love Boat?” Jackson asked.
“Never the fuck mind,” I barked, hating that the reference made me feel old.
“Hate to say it, Cal, but it’s a lot of fun. You might want to give it a try.”
I snarled at him.
He lifted his hands in an offering of peace. “Just a suggestion. I’m headed into town. Kate’s flying up tonight. You want to meet later for cards?”
Because cards these days meant Kate and Jackson and Shelby and Eli. Fuck, Ark and Olivia might show up, too. One big, happy, fucking love fest.
Not to mention who might be working at Bud’s tonight.
I cursed inwardly as I immediately called up an image of her red, plaited hair and the freckles that littered her face. I had no business imaging what her hair might look like out of that braid. Where there might be other freckles scattered across her body.
No business.
I needed to get her to leave. Somehow. Someway. I’d been counting on the endlessly dark, endlessly cold winter to do the dirty work for me. Only I was starting to sense a stubborn streak in Vivienne that was stronger than steel. Certainly stronger than the weather.
“Yeah, sure. Cards. Later.”
I turned away from the sight of Olivia and Ark. From Jackson and what I knew to be his silent judgment and made my way down the hallway to my own office. I slammed the door closed only because it felt good.
A release. Some damn release from all this pent-up tension inside me.
I didn’t hesitate but walked toward the shelves behind my desk. I lifted the picture of us. Feeling the weight of it in my hand centered me.
Hate to say it, but it’s a lot of fun. You might want to give it a try.
“They don’t get it,” I said to my wife who smiled at me from seven years ago. “I did try it. It was fun. Then it wasn’t.”
I touched the bridge of my daughter’s nose. She would have been twelve this year.
Not for the first time I sat heavily in my office chair and wondered what she might have been like at this age. Still a goofball? Someone more serious? A girl who was staring down her teenage years with…trepidation? Nah, not my Em. There had been no fear inside that girl. Not an ounce of it.
I felt my chest tighten. My throat close. I let the pain of missing them wash over me like an icy cold shower.
It helped to focus me. To see clearly again, what my reality was and always would be.
Having them. Loving them. Losing them. Grieving them.
Nothing and no one was going to change that.
