Rainier Drive (Cedar Cove #6)(83)
Olivia set her fork aside and seemed to be carefully choosing her words. “I don’t think there’s anything to be concerned about,” she began.
“What?” Grace demanded. “Concerned about what?”
“It has to do with my brother, Will,” Olivia informed her.
Grace did her best to appear completely indifferent. “What about him?” He was nothing to her any longer, other than a source of profound embarrassment.
“I know I probably mentioned that he and Georgia are getting divorced. They’ve sold the house and the proceeds have been equally divided between them.”
“Oh.” Grace responded to the news with sadness—not for Will but for his long-suffering wife. Poor Georgia. Grace could all too easily imagine what she must’ve endured through the years. Closing her eyes, Grace acknowledged a sense of guilt for her part in this, and regret that she might have caused the other woman pain. She’d been foolish to get involved with Will. So foolish…Grace had known he was married, which only intensified her guilt. She suspected their emotional affair wasn’t his first, nor was it likely his last. Granted, she hadn’t slept with him but probably would have if the relationship had continued. And according to Olivia, he’d had other actual affairs.
Olivia seemed to be watching her closely.
Grace gave a beleaguered sigh. “There’s more, isn’t there.” She could feel it coming.
Olivia nodded. “Will told Mom he was moving back to Cedar Cove.”
Grace stared at her in horrified silence. “You’ve got to be kidding! What about his job?”
“He’s retired now and seems to be at loose ends.”
Grace closed her eyes. The last time Will came to town had been a disaster. This was shortly after she’d broken off the relationship. He’d insisted she didn’t know what she was doing and that he loved her. At one point, Cliff had stepped in and, in a fit of anger and jealousy, Will had taken a swing at him. It’d been a dreadful scene, a public spectacle, with Will threatening to press charges. Thankfully Olivia had witnessed the episode and made it clear that Will didn’t stand a chance of having any charges stick.
“I’m worried,” Olivia said.
“About me and Cliff?” Grace asked and made a weak dismissive gesture with her hand. “Don’t be.”
“No,” Olivia told her. “I’m concerned about Will. Mom is, too. She suggested he rethink this move. It’s too drastic, especially so soon after the divorce. He needs to stay where he is. And…”
Olivia hesitated and took a deep breath. “What bothers me more than anything is that my brother, who can be as clueless as a Keystone Cop, might assume you’re still available.”
“Will knows I’m married.” She remembered that Olivia had expressly told him.
“He knows, all right,” Olivia said. “But a little thing like a wedding band, including the one on his finger, hasn’t stopped him before. He might have the mistaken impression that it won’t stop you, either.”
Grace swallowed. “Then I’ll just have to tell him.” Cliff would be happy to oblige in that regard, too; however, she had every intention of keeping the two men away from each other.
Thirty-Five
The first time Anson Butler kissed Allison Cox was last October, after a Friday-night football game. Instead of attending the Homecoming dance, they’d sat in the bleachers and talked long after everyone else had left. Allison remembered that kiss as clearly as if it’d just happened. She’d had boyfriends before and had dated a jock while she was a junior. Clay was a really nice guy, popular and funny, but his interests were limited and they didn’t have much in common. They broke up shortly after the prom.
Anson was different. They’d had a couple of classes together the year before, but she hadn’t really noticed him until this year, when they sat across from each other in French. His language skills were impressive, and he seemed to catch on faster than anyone else. Allison hated the way he’d downplayed his abilities and made light of his intelligence. Thinking back, she decided it was his sense of humor, unexpectedly wry, that had initially attracted her.
Sitting in the bleachers now, in the same row as she had during that first kiss, Allison closed her eyes and tried to recapture the exciting sensations she’d experienced that night.
It’d been really cold, she recalled, and the lights on the field were off. Clouds scudding across the sky had frequently obscured the full moon; the intermittent darkness had given them a feeling of seclusion, of privacy. Anson wore his long black coat with a knit stocking cap pulled down over his ears. He didn’t wear gloves and his hands had been cold to the touch. Unlike him, Allison was bundled up head to foot in a red coat and scarf, hat, mittens and boots with wool socks.
They sat huddled together against the wind. The music spilled faintly from the gym, where everyone was dancing. He’d ditched his friends and she had hers.
Anson had amused her that night, speaking in French, making up words. She’d laughed at something he’d said and then, for no reason, they weren’t laughing anymore. Anson had leaned forward to kiss her, hesitant, as if waiting for Allison to stop him. All she could do was hope that he wouldn’t stop. When their lips met, his were cold and chapped. Hers were warm and moist, and she parted them slightly, wanting him to know how glad she was to receive his kiss.