Mending His Past Page 8
Olivia traced every feature of his face with her eyes, committing the image to memory. He was telling the truth. Something was bothering him, but it wasn’t the idea of spending the day with her at the flea market. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not really.”
Olivia waited for what felt like twenty minutes for him to speak the words that seemed to be stuck on the tip of his tongue.
She slipped around her end of the table and lifted herself onto it, sitting within arm’s reach of him. “What’s going on?” She whispered the words with the same amount of care and emotion she had all those years before whenever Trent needed a listening ear.
A shiver raced down her spine when he looked at her—really looked at her—for the first time that day. Tongues of fire roared to life deep inside as he held her gaze.
“My dad texted me yesterday.”
Olivia nodded but didn’t speak, allowing him the extra time she knew he needed to get the words out.
“He’s coming today. With Mom and Aunt Kat.”
“Coming where?” Olivia asked.
“To the flea market. He wanted me to go with them.”
“I don’t want to get in the way of family time. You know, you don’t have to stay at the table with me. You could help me unload the heavy stuff, and then go off and spend the day with them.”
A hint of red tinged Trent’s cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s not really the problem. I’m not disappointed to miss out on a day of flea market shopping. Believe me.” He massaged the muscles of his neck as the first real smile of the day crept onto his lips.
“I don’t understand,” Olivia said.
“You know me and my dad. We’ve always been like oil and water. We had a pretty major falling out just before I—” Trent’s eyes darted up to meet hers, regret swirling in their depths. “Before I left to join the army. We’ve hardly spoken since.”
Olivia’s heart pricked her. She should have recognized the look on his face before now. Take away about ninety pounds of muscle, and she was looking at the same sad boy she once knew. The boy who had longed for a relationship with a father who was too busy to notice. Trent had spent the better part of his childhood trying to reach out to his father, only to be hurt over and over again by the man’s apparent lack of interest.
“But if he invited you to come along, isn’t that a good sign?” Olivia’s sympathetic smile elicited a long sigh from Trent’s lips. “Ten years is a long time. Maybe he’s ready to try and mend fences with you.”
“He says he is. Says he’s a changed man, but…” Trent’s voice trailed off as he shook his head.
Olivia rested a hand on his forearm. “But what?” The tenderness of her voice seemed to draw his eyes to hers.
“I’m a changed man, too.”
“Everyone changes.”
Trent’s lips thinned as his face pinched with pain. “Not like me. I don’t think I have what it takes anymore.”
“Have what it takes to do what?”
“To have a meaningful relationship with someone. I shut people out for so long, I don’t know how to let them in anymore.” He inched closer to Olivia, his unrelenting gaze refusing to release hers. “I’m broken, Olivia.”
Her stomach clenched at the sound of Trent’s unsteady voice even as his confession caused her heart to jolt in her chest. His new look had fooled her. One glance at the tough exterior of this hulk of a man would make anyone think he was impervious to pain. He seemed indestructible—untouchable. But even Superman had his kryptonite.
Trent was hurting and that made Olivia hurt right along with him.
“Seeing you and Molly these past few days has made me feel more alive than I have in years, but there’s still a part of me that’s missing.” Trent lowered his gaze to Olivia’s hand that still rested on his arm. “I’ve gone around for the past few months blaming the world for changing while I was away. Now I’m beginning to wonder if it was only me.”
Olivia had no words. The anguish in Trent’s voice drew fresh tears into her eyes. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze.
“I want to believe he’s different,” Trent said. “I want to be close to him. I just don’t know how, and right now I don’t even want to deal with it.”
Olivia blinked back her tears, fresh courage to speak bubbling up inside her. “I can help you there.”
Trent’s brows raised in question.
“I am going to need so much help at the flea market that I just can’t imagine getting through the day without you by my side every moment. I just can’t spare you.” She winked and leaned in to speak in a hushed tone. “I’ll play interference for you. You won’t have to deal with anything you don’t want to deal with.”
Before she realized what she was doing, she’d hopped off the edge of the table, stood on the tips of her toes, and placed a light kiss on his cheek. Her lips immediately ignited in a blaze of fire.
“I don’t know what happened to you while you were away, but you’re not broken beyond repair, Trent. I can see it in your eyes. You’re the same man I knew all those years ago. The same man I lov—” Olivia’s cheeks burned red-hot at what she’d almost said. Yes, she had loved him. Maybe a part of her still did.
She filled her lungs with a deep breath of fresh air and cleared her throat. “You’re still the same guy I loved to hang around with back when we were kids.” Smooth, Olivia. Real smooth.
She retreated to her side of the table, her stomach filled with electric warmth as her head still spun from what she’d just done. She felt Trent’s eyes follow her every move as she prepared to finish loading up the table.
When she was brave enough, she met his gaze while goosebumps chased up and down her arms in exhilarating waves of shock and excitement. A flicker of hope had returned to Trent’s eyes and brightened his face.
“I’ve missed you, Olivia.”
Chapter Eleven
Trent ran his hand over his hair and snuck a glance at Olivia sitting next to him in the passenger’s seat. Not even the motor of his candy-apple red pickup truck purring in his ears had been able to settle his racing pulse after the exchange they’d had in the driveway. The moment she’d laid her soft hand on his arm, every wall he’d ever erected around his wildly pounding heart had been blown away. Completely demolished.
How was he supposed to relax with her sitting so close he could smell the sweet vanilla scent of her perfume? She flashed a shy smile his way, her hair whipping in the breeze as they barreled down the road with the windows down.
Of all the things Olivia had gotten right, she was wrong about one thing. Not everyone changed. She was exactly the same as he remembered. Kind. Loyal. The person who always knew the right thing to say. And the only woman who had ever been able to turn his blood into liquid fire in his veins.
The truck rocked and jostled when they pulled into the uneven parking lot reserved for vendors. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he zig-zagged down the first row of parking, avoiding ruts and potholes in the dusty surface.
“There’s a spot,” Olivia said, pointing at an open parking place ahead of them.
He pulled into the space with mechanical precision, his eyes doing a quick sweep of their surroundings. All clear. Dad wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He rolled his eyes at his own hyper-vigilance. Of course Dad wouldn’t be there. Vendors were still setting up. Shoppers wouldn’t start arriving for at least another hour. He and his father may not have had the best history, but his dad wasn’t a boogeyman waiting to jump out and get him.
“Let’s get this party started,” Olivia said, opening her door. A few moments later, Molly was unbuckled and standing next to the truck with Sport licking her cheeks.
Trent walked around to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate, determined to focus on the work at hand.
“You feel like lugging the folding table over for me?” Olivia asked.
She walked over and reached out to grab a stool made of driftwood and reclaimed steel,
brushing against his hand in the process. Fire shot up his arm at her touch. With prickles still racing down his spine, he cleared his throat and grabbed the eight-foot table Olivia used to display smaller items. He lifted it with one hand, keeping an eye on her as she struggled to wrangle a box of trinkets with her free arm.
“Why don’t you let me get that for you?” Trent asked.
“Don’t worry about me. Molly and I do this every weekend.” Olivia set the stool down and situated the box on her hip, wrapping her slender arm around the side.
“Yeah, but I’m here now. I can handle the heavy stuff for you.”
Olivia swallowed a smile as a playful light gleamed in her eye. She dug a small rugged plaque from the box that read ‘One plus one equals love’. “Molly, you carry this.” She handed the plaque to her daughter and picked up the stool again. Olivia’s eyes danced with silent laughter when she looked at Trent again. “There. I’ve lightened my load. I think I can manage now.” Her mouth pulled into a teasing grin as she turned and headed toward the trampled grassy area that was quickly becoming an outdoor marketplace.
A long, measured breath escaped Trent’s lips, his eyes remaining glued to Olivia. His heart beat in time with the subtle sway of her hips as she crossed the parking lot. Yesterday on the beach everything had seemed so final between them. They’d made it clear to each other that they’d been mutually “friend-zoned”. That was supposed to have made everything easier. He swallowed hard, wondering if he’d ever been more wrong about anything in his life. There was nothing easy about keeping Olivia at arm’s length.
A soft whine from Sport pulled Trent from his thoughts. “You’re right, boy. We need to catch up with those two.” A single nod from his head sent the dog loping after his three-foot tall friend in a tutu.
After several more trips between Olivia’s designated booth area and the truck, everything but the large, wood-topped table from earlier was on display.
“I’ll go get the table,” Trent said, placing a rugged outdoor bench beside Olivia.
“You mean the big heavy one?” She made a move to come out from behind the folding table, where she was still arranging her items for sale. “I’ll help.”
“No, I’ve got it.”
“Are you kidding? I can’t let you do that alone. That thing has to weigh over two hundred pounds.”
Trent shrugged. “Two hundred pounds is nothing.”
Olivia’s hip jutted out as she shifted her weight to one side and folded her arms across her chest. She snorted out a laugh. “I said it’s over two hundred pounds.”
“It’s no big deal, really. Besides, it’ll be nice to burn off a little nervous energy.” Call it excitement, anxiety, or whatever—the antsy feeling crawling around inside him as he awaited the arrival of his father was getting old.
“Whatever you say, but I still think it’s too heavy and awkward for one person to carry on their own. Be careful.”
“These bad boys have been missing the gym.” Trent flexed his powerful biceps, certain his machismo would send Olivia into a fit of laughter like such displays always had in the past. He needed to hear that laugh of hers. It always had a calming effect on him. “They’re looking forward to it.”
Her jaw fell open the tiniest bit as she appeared to take in the bulging proportions of his sleeves. Is she checking me out? A broad smile lit up her face a moment later. “Do you always talk about your muscles as if they were separate entities?”
Taking a couple of steps backward, Trent splayed his arms wide. “Only when they get big enough to become self-aware.”
“Get out of here.” Olivia laughed, the rich sound rolling off her lips and crashing into Trent with wave after wave of delicious warmth.
He turned to walk away with Olivia’s voice still ringing in his ears. It had been a long time since he’d let loose with his lighter side, and it felt good. Lots of things about being around Olivia felt good. It was nice to know he could still make her laugh.
He glanced over his shoulder, hoping to catch another glimpse of her smile before turning the corner, only to find her watching him. The laughter had gone out of her eyes and was replaced by something entirely different. Her expression was soft and pensive, yet her green eyes smoldered with a passion that pierced right through him, setting off an explosion of heat in his chest. A whole new kind of energy coursed through his body, even as he tore his gaze away from hers.
When he arrived at the truck, he rested both hands on the tailgate, leaning heavily into it. What was happening? His mind clouded over with desire. He tried to remind himself of all the reasons Olivia was off limits to him, but he couldn’t remember a single one.
The only thing filling his mind was the intoxicating sound of her laughter and the image of her smile from a few moments before, when every care had fallen away and she’d lit up with pure joy. She’d never been more beautiful.
He took hold of one of the table legs and gave it a solid tug, lowering it to the ground. Running his hand across the wood, he admired the entirely unpredictable patterns in the twisted grain. It was a chaotic mess, but at the same time, it was beautiful. Olivia had a knack for doing that—for finding beauty in things others would toss away. He sucked in a sharp breath when he recognized the metaphor he was trailing his fingertips across.
He was just as twisted up on the inside as this old gnarly piece of wood. Olivia had been right about the beauty it held. Maybe she was right about him, too. She seemed convinced that he wasn’t damaged beyond repair. Maybe he could become the man she needed him to be. Was that really possible?
He reached across the table and wrapped massive hands around either side. A satisfying growl escaped his lips as he hefted it up, resting the edge on one of his broad shoulders.
The tension that had taken up permanent residence on his forehead that morning dissipated. The tiny seeds of hope Trent had worked so hard to bury began to sprout somewhere deep inside. Normally he’d have pulled them up by the root the moment they began to grow, but this time was different. This time he let them be.
The corner of his mouth curved into a cautious smile as he reveled in the fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach. There was no need to squash it. No need to deny it. That flutter represented one beautiful thing to him. He was still alive inside—something he’d questioned long and hard before his return to Liberty Cove.
Deep in the secret place of his heart, he allowed a single thought to remain unchallenged. Maybe his future wasn’t quite so set in stone after all.
Chapter Twelve
Watching Trent walk away did strange things to the pit of Olivia’s stomach. Time slowed, allowing her to soak in his every move and gesture. She did her best to engrave them into her memory. Soon he’d be walking away permanently, and every step he took as he walked back to the truck was a stabbing reminder of that fact.
A tiny hand slipped inside hers and pulled several times, bursting the slow-motion bubble of time surrounding her and bringing it to an abrupt end.
Who was she trying to kid? She’d been pretending that his leaving was a good thing—that it would protect her heart somehow. What a joke. She was going to feel every aching minute they were apart, and every miserable mile separating them. The best thing she could hope for was to be able to keep it together when the time came to say goodbye.
But what if things were different. What if he didn’t leave?
No matter how hard she tried to push the thought down, it kept rising to the forefront of her mind. She had to stop torturing herself. Of course he was going to leave. That was already decided—he had a business to run in San Antonio.
“Mama.” Molly’s tugging became insistent.
“What, Molly?” Her voice came out as a tired sigh.
“Kat Kat.” Molly pointed to Kat, who was walking with a couple and waving as she approached.
Olivia recognized the shorter woman walking next to Trent’s aunt. Her face may have borne a few new lines marking the passage of time, but t
he sweet expression on her face left no room for doubt. It was Alice Roland, Trent’s mother. Her once-brunette hair was pulled into a ponytail at the base of her neck, silver highlights streaking her thick, shoulder-length tresses. Besides her own mother, Alice was the kindest woman Olivia had ever met.
A nervous flutter jolted her stomach when she turned her attention to the man walking behind the two women. He had to be over six feet tall, with the slim build of a young ranch hand. His face was washed in soft shadow from the brim of the ten-gallon cowboy hat he wore atop a head of steel-gray hair. But the shade across his face did nothing to dampen his electric-blue eyes, which seemed to take everything in at once. The man had the same jawline and smile as Trent. The resemblance was undeniable. He had to be Trent’s dad.
Olivia took a deep breath. It had been much easier to pledge her support back in the driveway at home while gazing into Trent’s eyes. But right now, she felt woefully unprepared to be of any real help if push came to shove. Confrontations had never been her style. She’d always taken a smile-and-play-dumb kind of approach to conflict. If Trent’s father was anything like the stories she’d heard as a kid, he wasn’t the kind of man to accept anything less than his way.
Molly let go of Olivia’s hand and ran toward the group that was nearly upon them. “Kat Kat!” She reached up for a hug, and was scooped into Kat’s arms.
“Hey, Molly-girl,” Kat said. “You helping your mama today?”
“She sure is.” Olivia pasted on her brightest smile and greeted Trent’s family, silently praying they’d be gone before he got back with the table.
“Alice,” Kat said, “you remember Olivia, don’t you? She and the kids always had so much fun playing together during your summer visits.”
“Of course I remember Olivia. How could anyone forget this sweet girl?”
Alice hurried around to Olivia’s side of the table and wrapped her in a tight, motherly hug. The genuine warmth in that simple gesture was enough to melt all of Olivia’s misgivings and she squeezed back.