Thief
Page 33
I squeeze her tighter. It makes me sick that Leah did that. The things she’s done to keep Olivia and me apart are especially twisted. Almost as twisted as the things I’ve done to keep us together. I grimace and grip her by the shoulders, pulling her away so I can see her face.
“What do you say? Yes?”
“How long will we be gone?”
I think about it. “Four days.”
She shakes her head. “Two.”
“Three,” I counter. “We have to use one of those days for travel.”
She cocks her head and frowns at me. “We’re not really going camping, are we? Because, every time we do — we have some type of emotional catalyst, and I really don’t think I can handle-”
I put a hand over her mouth. “No camping. Pack something nice to wear. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight A.M.”
“Okay.” She tries to act nonchalant, but I can tell she’s excited.
I kiss her forehead. “Bye, Duchess. See you soon.”
I leave without looking back at her. I have no idea where I’m taking her, and I can’t lie and say camping didn’t cross my mind. But, as soon as she reminded me that both of our camping trips went to shit, I tossed the idea. She needed something to remind her how good we were together, not about the games we played. I pull out my phone as I climb into my car. I know the perfect place and it’s only a few hours away.
I knock on her door at 7:45.
“Always early,” she complains when she opens it. Her bag is in her hand. I take it and look her over. She’s wearing faded jeans and a fitted Marlins t-shirt. Her hair is wet and loose around her face.
She sees me eyeing her shirt and she shrugs. “I went to a game,” she says. I catch the defensiveness in her voice and I smirk.
“What?” she says, slapping me on the arm. “I like sport.”
“First of all, I’m the British one, not you. It’s sports. Second, you hate sports and sport and athletes. As I recall, you once told me that professional athletes were a waste of space.”
The corner of her mouth dips in as she frowns. “Noah likes baseball. I was being supportive.”
“Ah.”
I feel jealous, so I turn away and walk to the elevator with her bag while she locks up.
We ride downstairs in silence; standing so close the sides of our hands are touching. When the doors slide open, we don’t immediately step out.
“How long will the drive take?” she asks as she lowers herself into my car.
“We’re not driving,” I say.
She shakes her head, one eyebrow raised.
“You’ll see. Just sit back and relax. We’ll be there soon.”
She gives me a dirty look and turns on the radio. I hand her my iPod and she scrolls until she finds Coldplay.
“You’re crazy and erratic and mean, but I’ll never complain about your taste in music.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, setting down the iPod and staring at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be charming me this weekend?”
I grab her knee and squeeze. “That’s what I’m doing, Duchess. A compliment with an insult. Just the way you like it.”
She smacks my hand away, but she’s smiling.
The drive takes twenty minutes. When I pull up at the dock, Olivia looks confused. I get out of the car and grab her bags from the trunk.
“What is this?”
“A marina. It’s where I keep my boat.”
“Your boat?”
“Yes, love.”
She follows me to my slip. I climb on first, setting our bags in the small galley, then I go back for her.
“Peter Pan,” she says, not taking her eyes from the boat. “You named it Peter Pan.”
“Well, when I first bought it I named it Great Expectations, but Pip doesn’t land up with Estella in the end. So I changed it to Peter Pan. Didn’t want to jinx myself.”
Her nostrils flare. Then she looks at me with those big eyes of hers. “I’ve never been on a boat. A ship, but they’re so much … safer looking.”
I hold out my hand and help her on. She wobbles for a minute, and it looks like she is surfing. Then she runs to the cockpit and firmly plants herself on the seat, holding both sides of the padding on her chair. She’s such a badass I forget how little of life she’s tasted. I smile and start getting the boat ready to leave.
When we are bouncing forward, the helm of the boat cutting into the waves, she scoots closer to me on the bench. I lift my arm up and around her and she snuggles into me. I can’t even smile. I feel so intensely emotional, I steer the boat in the wrong direction for more than thirty minutes before I realize my mistake. At one point, when we are in the middle of nothing but water, I cut the engine and let her look.
“I feel so mortal,” she says. “I’ve collected so much armor over the years; a law degree, money, a hard heart. But, out here I have nothing and I feel naked.”
“Your heart isn’t so hard,” I say, watching the water. “You just like to pretend it is.”
I can see her looking at me out of the corner of my eye.
“You’re the only one who ever says that. Everyone else believes me.”
“I’m the only one who knows you.”
“How is it that you always let me go so easily then? Why don’t you know that I want you to fight for me?”
I sigh. Here it is. The truth.
“It took me a long time to figure out that’s what you were saying. And it seemed that every time one of us came back for the other, we weren’t ready. But, ten years later, here I am. Fighting. I’d like to think I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’d also like to think we’ve finally made it to the point where we are ready for each other.”
She doesn’t respond, but I know she’s thinking. Maybe this is finally our time. Maybe.
I start the engine.
We reach Tampa Bay around one o’clock. I park my boat at a marina and call a cab to take us to a car rental place. The only thing they have available is a minivan. Olivia cracks up when we climb in.
“What?” I say. “I kind of like it.”
“No,” she says firmly. “Don’t even say that. I’ll lose all respect for you.”
I grin and drive us to the hotel. We drop off our bags, and Olivia inspects the room while I call and double check on our dinner reservations.
“What do you say? Yes?”
“How long will we be gone?”
I think about it. “Four days.”
She shakes her head. “Two.”
“Three,” I counter. “We have to use one of those days for travel.”
She cocks her head and frowns at me. “We’re not really going camping, are we? Because, every time we do — we have some type of emotional catalyst, and I really don’t think I can handle-”
I put a hand over her mouth. “No camping. Pack something nice to wear. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight A.M.”
“Okay.” She tries to act nonchalant, but I can tell she’s excited.
I kiss her forehead. “Bye, Duchess. See you soon.”
I leave without looking back at her. I have no idea where I’m taking her, and I can’t lie and say camping didn’t cross my mind. But, as soon as she reminded me that both of our camping trips went to shit, I tossed the idea. She needed something to remind her how good we were together, not about the games we played. I pull out my phone as I climb into my car. I know the perfect place and it’s only a few hours away.
I knock on her door at 7:45.
“Always early,” she complains when she opens it. Her bag is in her hand. I take it and look her over. She’s wearing faded jeans and a fitted Marlins t-shirt. Her hair is wet and loose around her face.
She sees me eyeing her shirt and she shrugs. “I went to a game,” she says. I catch the defensiveness in her voice and I smirk.
“What?” she says, slapping me on the arm. “I like sport.”
“First of all, I’m the British one, not you. It’s sports. Second, you hate sports and sport and athletes. As I recall, you once told me that professional athletes were a waste of space.”
The corner of her mouth dips in as she frowns. “Noah likes baseball. I was being supportive.”
“Ah.”
I feel jealous, so I turn away and walk to the elevator with her bag while she locks up.
We ride downstairs in silence; standing so close the sides of our hands are touching. When the doors slide open, we don’t immediately step out.
“How long will the drive take?” she asks as she lowers herself into my car.
“We’re not driving,” I say.
She shakes her head, one eyebrow raised.
“You’ll see. Just sit back and relax. We’ll be there soon.”
She gives me a dirty look and turns on the radio. I hand her my iPod and she scrolls until she finds Coldplay.
“You’re crazy and erratic and mean, but I’ll never complain about your taste in music.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, setting down the iPod and staring at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be charming me this weekend?”
I grab her knee and squeeze. “That’s what I’m doing, Duchess. A compliment with an insult. Just the way you like it.”
She smacks my hand away, but she’s smiling.
The drive takes twenty minutes. When I pull up at the dock, Olivia looks confused. I get out of the car and grab her bags from the trunk.
“What is this?”
“A marina. It’s where I keep my boat.”
“Your boat?”
“Yes, love.”
She follows me to my slip. I climb on first, setting our bags in the small galley, then I go back for her.
“Peter Pan,” she says, not taking her eyes from the boat. “You named it Peter Pan.”
“Well, when I first bought it I named it Great Expectations, but Pip doesn’t land up with Estella in the end. So I changed it to Peter Pan. Didn’t want to jinx myself.”
Her nostrils flare. Then she looks at me with those big eyes of hers. “I’ve never been on a boat. A ship, but they’re so much … safer looking.”
I hold out my hand and help her on. She wobbles for a minute, and it looks like she is surfing. Then she runs to the cockpit and firmly plants herself on the seat, holding both sides of the padding on her chair. She’s such a badass I forget how little of life she’s tasted. I smile and start getting the boat ready to leave.
When we are bouncing forward, the helm of the boat cutting into the waves, she scoots closer to me on the bench. I lift my arm up and around her and she snuggles into me. I can’t even smile. I feel so intensely emotional, I steer the boat in the wrong direction for more than thirty minutes before I realize my mistake. At one point, when we are in the middle of nothing but water, I cut the engine and let her look.
“I feel so mortal,” she says. “I’ve collected so much armor over the years; a law degree, money, a hard heart. But, out here I have nothing and I feel naked.”
“Your heart isn’t so hard,” I say, watching the water. “You just like to pretend it is.”
I can see her looking at me out of the corner of my eye.
“You’re the only one who ever says that. Everyone else believes me.”
“I’m the only one who knows you.”
“How is it that you always let me go so easily then? Why don’t you know that I want you to fight for me?”
I sigh. Here it is. The truth.
“It took me a long time to figure out that’s what you were saying. And it seemed that every time one of us came back for the other, we weren’t ready. But, ten years later, here I am. Fighting. I’d like to think I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’d also like to think we’ve finally made it to the point where we are ready for each other.”
She doesn’t respond, but I know she’s thinking. Maybe this is finally our time. Maybe.
I start the engine.
We reach Tampa Bay around one o’clock. I park my boat at a marina and call a cab to take us to a car rental place. The only thing they have available is a minivan. Olivia cracks up when we climb in.
“What?” I say. “I kind of like it.”
“No,” she says firmly. “Don’t even say that. I’ll lose all respect for you.”
I grin and drive us to the hotel. We drop off our bags, and Olivia inspects the room while I call and double check on our dinner reservations.
