Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5)(59)

“Hello,” she said, slightly out of breath.

“Rachel, it’s Nate.”

“Nate?”

Bruce’s eyes flew to hers and she whirled around, unable to look at him while talking to another man. She instantly felt guilty, although she told herself there wasn’t a single reason she should.

“Thank heaven you’re home. I’ve been trying for the last half hour. Where were you? Damn, I wish you’d turn on your cell phone.”

“Did you call to yell at me?”

“No, no. I just want to know what the hell is going on.” His words were followed by a slight echo. “Why won’t you answer my e-mails?”

“I’ve already said everything I feel is necessary. I think we should end this right now.”

“Fine, whatever, but the least you can do is tell me why.”

Rachel didn’t want to talk about this now, especially with Bruce listening to every word.

“Is there someone else? It’s that Bruce guy, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Did I do anything?”

“No.” She twisted the cord around her elbow.

“Do I have to play a guessing game with you?”

“No…I found out you’re Congressman Olsen’s son.”

Her announcement was met with a brief hesitation. “That’s a problem?”

“Yes!” she cried. “It’s a very big problem.” He needed to understand what that information had done to her. And if it wasn’t a problem, why hadn’t he told her himself, instead of leaving her to discover it on her own?

“Does this change who I am?”

“No,” she acknowledged reluctantly.

“Then I don’t see why it’s a problem.”

“I do,” she said. “You’re a congressman’s son and I work in a salon doing nails and hair.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“If you don’t know, then I can’t explain it.”

“I’m Nate Olsen, a Warrant Officer in the United States Navy. Why can’t you accept that and that alone?”

“Because.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“Why did you enlist?” she demanded.

Her question seemed to take him off guard. “I had something to prove.”

“It’s the same with me, isn’t it? You’re using me in the same way.”

“No.”

“I’m just one more stone to throw at your father. I can just imagine what he’d think if he learned about me.”

“I don’t give a damn what he thinks.”

“Well, I do,” she said forcefully.

“Then you aren’t the woman I thought you were.”

She braced herself against the wall. “No, I guess I’m not.”

He didn’t have anything more to add, it seemed. She heard a soft goodbye, followed by a click. He’d disconnected. The phone droned in her ear, and a long moment passed before she replaced the receiver.

When she turned around, Bruce was standing in the doorway. “You okay?” he asked.

She was going to lie, to shrug it off, but couldn’t. “No, not really,” she finally said.

He slipped his arms around her for a gentle hug and she rested her head against his shoulder.

Thirty

“Jack!” Olivia complained, sitting on the end of their bed. “When are you going to start using that treadmill?” She hated to nag, but he’d been procrastinating ever since Christmas morning, when she’d unveiled her gift. Although he’d made an effort to look pleased, she’d seen the disappointment in his eyes.

“I will,” he said, sauntering out from the bathroom in his underwear. “Soon.”

“You promised to start last week.”

“I know, I know.” He had the resigned look of a convicted man on his way out of the courtroom and into jail. His eyes brightened. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Jack, you know darned well that I got you a pair of sweats. Don’t tell me you forgot, either.”

“I didn’t forget,” he admitted, “but I don’t feel right sweating in brand-new clothes.”

“Jack Griffin, that’s the most ridiculous excuse I’ve ever heard. Enough. Exercise.”

“Now?” he gasped.

“Now!”

“But I’ve got to get to the office.”

“Not until you’ve walked a mile, minimum.”

“A mile?”

“You’ll be too tired tonight after work.”

“I might not be,” he said hopefully, looking more than a little ridiculous as he pouted while standing in their bedroom wearing only his underwear and dark socks.

“You’re walking, Jack.”

Olivia was through listening to his excuses. The week following Christmas was too soon, Jack had said, but right after New Year’s, he’d be on that treadmill every morning. Olivia had foolishly believed him. It was already the second week of January and he had yet to plug it in. Olivia wasn’t leaving this room until he began walking.

“I’m actually not feeling that well.”