Seaside Avenue (Cedar Cove #7)(63)

Glaring at him, Linnette jerked the menu out of his hands and stomped off to place his order. How dare he say that to her! Pete might have saved her life, but that didn’t give him permission to embarrass her.

She’d never talk to him again, Linnette decided. Ever.

Twenty-Five

Jack had three steaks ready for the grill when Olivia got home from the courthouse Thursday afternoon. They rarely ate red meat anymore; however, they’d invited Will to dinner, and she knew her brother’s favorite was T-bone steak. Besides, she had a few questions for Will and she wanted him in a good mood when she asked them.

No doubt Jack was pleased with the menu. Olivia kept a careful eye on her husband’s diet. After his heart attack, Jack had promised to abstain from fast food and late hours. He left the newspaper office as close to five as he could these days and often got home before she did, which was a real switch from the way things used to be.

“Hi, Jack,” she greeted him, setting her purse on a small table in the hallway alcove, just as she did every night.

“Out here,” Jack called. He had a Reba CD playing and the volume was loud enough to rattle the windows. She was surprised he’d heard her at all.

Moving into the kitchen, Olivia found her husband preparing a salad. He’d arranged pale green Boston lettuce and baby spinach leaves in a large glass bowl, which sat on the kitchen counter, along with two ripe tomatoes and a cucumber fresh from her garden.

“Do your talents never cease?” she teased, sliding her arms around his middle. She hadn’t realized how deeply she loved this man—who’d come into her life nearly twenty years after her divorce—until he’d almost died. Now she appreciated every day she had with him. Every minute.

“I picked up a bottle of a new spray-on salad dressing,” he was saying. “There was a coupon in the Chronicle and I used it. I think we’ll like this one.”

He handed her the bottle of Italian dressing and she glanced at the label with an appropriately enthusiastic comment. Who would’ve dreamed that Jack Griffin, editor of the Cedar Cove Chronicle and renowned junk-food fanatic, would care about low-fat salad dressing? Certainly not Olivia.

“You’re spoiling me,” she said with a laugh.

“Well, actually, I was thinking I’d get you happy and then lure you into my den of iniquity.”

“Den of iniquity? Den of books and stacks of paper is more like it.” Olivia loved the banter between them. “Anyway, after all this time you should know you don’t need gifts of salad dressing to get me into your arms.”

Jack turned and enfolded her in his embrace, kissing the tip of her nose. “The things you say to me, woman, it’s a wonder I don’t seduce you right here on the kitchen floor.”

“And let my brother find us?” she asked.

Jack scowled. “Oh, yeah. I forgot for a minute—Will’s coming to dinner.”

“Don’t forget, I need to talk to him….”

“And you want me to conveniently disappear.”

“If you don’t mind?” She sighed unhappily. “It’s just that this might get awkward.”

“I’m happy to retreat to my den,” he said, waggling his eyebrows in Groucho Marx fashion.

After a quick kiss, Olivia went into the bedroom to change while Jack finished making the salad. When she returned he’d poured two glasses of iced tea.

As they waited for Will, they sat on the front porch, which overlooked the Cove. The waters were a clear blue and, for September, surprisingly calm. Sitting side by side on the glider, they sipped their tea and enjoyed the quiet of early evening.

“How was your day?” Olivia asked, grateful for these few minutes alone. Will’s arrival would transform this peaceful mood into one of tension.

“I had lunch with Seth,” Jack said. “Ran into him at the deli. I had vegetable soup and a multigrain bagel with low-fat cream cheese,” he added righteously.

“Well, I had lunch with Justine.” She smiled. Her daughter had been full of news about the sale of the waterfront land and their purchase of a commercial plot off Harbor Street

. Everything had come together so smoothly, Justine was convinced this was meant to be. She’d talked about collecting Charlotte’s special recipes. Justine planned to use them in the tearoom, which had pleased Charlotte no end. In fact, during their last conversation, Olivia had learned that her mother was finally writing down all her recipes. Although friends and family had been asking for ages, Justine had given her the inspiration she needed.

“Seth told me the permits have been issued and construction on the tearoom should start in the next few weeks.”

“Justine said the same thing.”

They both paused to savor their tea. Olivia loved the serenity of early autumn. Summer had lingered in the Pacific Northwest, but soon the rains would come. The days would grow short and the bleakness of winter would begin to descend. At the end of the month, Jack would store the barbecue in the garage for the winter and put away the patio furniture. Hard to believe on a lovely night like this. Knowing how few such evenings remained made it even more special.

“Seth said he’d decided to keep his job with the boat broker,” Jack told her.

Olivia already knew this, and felt it was a wise decision. She said as much.

“Oh?” Jack questioned. “Why’s that?”