Free Butterfly Cove by Christina Skye Page A

was nothing more for them to say. They couldn’t go back.
    Life had taught Olivia how to live with pain and distance. In a way, she was glad for that now. And as she looked at Rafe’s face, she was certain that the grim reality of war had taught Rafe that same lesson.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    J ILLY’S COWBOY CHILI vanished in less than four minutes, attacked by two hungry men with a little help from Olivia. When Jilly produced a double-chocolate cake, Rafe found room to put away two pieces before his self-control returned.
    “I’m glad I don’t eat this way every day. I’d have to go to the gym and work it off at a punching bag.”
    “You?” Jilly sniffed. “You’ll never be fat. You’ve got that metabolism that never stops burning. I hate people like you,” she said dryly. “Duffy, let’s go for a run.” Jilly brushed off her hands and then raced down to the front lawn, chasing the big white dog while he barked with a puppy’s enthusiasm.
    “Jilly always had a way with pets.” Rafe leaned back, watching the two race in a mock charge toward the pier. “And your dog is a service dog, is that right?”
    Walker nodded. “He has a Congressional Medal of Honor,” he said with quiet pride. “He saved my skin more than once.”
    Rafe looked down, toying with the last crumbs of his cake. “I seem to recall hearing something about that dog of yours. It was back during my first tour of duty in Afghanistan.”
    Walker didn’t answer. Rafe caught the little glance he angled at Olivia. Clearly, the man didn’t choose to talk about those days.
    Rafe understood perfectly.
    “Any luck with the plumbing imbroglio? I don’t go on duty until midnight, so I’m open to lend a hand.”
    “Finish your cake. Jilly will kill me if I disturb your dessert. But once you’re done, I’ll show you the problem.” Walker drummed his hands on the table and glanced at Olivia, one eyebrow raised. “Unless you two had something planned for the afternoon?”
    “No. Not me. Nothing planned at all,” Olivia said quickly. “I’m just going to sit here on the porch and sketch. You two go off and work.”
    Rafe stood up slowly, searching her face. “How about I bring you some lemonade or iced tea before we go? Jilly will be out to check on you, but you may be thirsty.”
    He didn’t wait for her to answer. Olivia kept her gaze lowered. She could feel the damning heat swirl through her cheeks.
    When was she going to get over being close to this man? “Thank you. That...that would be nice.”
    She had planned to clear away some of the dishes, but even that job was taken away as Walker and Rafe stacked up the plates and flatware and carried them back to the kitchen.
    Wind blew up from the harbor, playing at her hair and cooling the heat in Olivia’s cheeks. She pulled out her sketches and pencil, focusing on the patterns that were still singing in her head.
    Around the back she heard a screen door slam, Jilly going inside the back way. She looked up quickly as Rafe set a pitcher with iced tea and a fresh glass in front of her. “Jilly says she’ll be out in a few minutes.” Rafe’s eyes darkened. “And I meant what I said before. I didn’t come back to dig at old wounds or complicate your life, Livie. That’s one thing you don’t need to worry about,” he said roughly.
    * * *
    S HE DIDN’T SEE Rafe for three hours. He and Walker vanished into the basement, pounding water pipes and arguing about flow variables. Olivia had heard them move around the side of the house, discussing how to upgrade the whole plumbing system in the old house without breaking the bank account. Olivia picked up something about sweat equity and smiled. Walker was persuasive, all right. And what he couldn’t manage to do, Jilly could. She was pretty sure that they would talk Rafe into helping out with the long-term repairs.
    Olivia realized that meant she would be seeing Rafe a lot more than she expected or wanted. And she wasn’t ready to be around him