First Kiss (2 page)

Olivia sucked in a deep breath of stale office air and tried to calm down before she passed out in the warm office in front of Parker.

He took a step further into the office. “The service was nice. You did a fine job with the arrangements.”

She nodded slowly. “Thanks.”

The air in the room only grew thicker the longer Parker stood there. She didn’t want to kick her boss out, but if he didn’t leave, she was going to have to make him and, with the mood she was in, it was going to come out wrong.

Parker shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants and rocked back on his heels. “You know, if you’re not comfortable having to work with Austin’s family on closing out his estate, I could handle it for you.”

“I’m sure Cade and I will be able to handle things just fine.”

He nodded slowly. “Kat said she passed a red Porsche in town with Wisconsin plates.”

Ah, small town gossip at its finest. Kat McCormick could dish it with the best of them. Did the ex-home economics teacher turned bank teller not learn from years in high school that rumors and gossip were vicious weapons? But Olivia knew what was going through the minds of everyone. Had Olivia been having an affair with Austin Carter? And when his son, her ex-best friend from childhood and town bully, returned, what would he think of it?

It was reasons such as that which had sent her to college in Grand Junction for six years. She’d tried to make it last forever. But Aspen Creek would always call her back.

“I gave Cade my card and told him I was in charge of the estate. I expect to see him shortly.” She picked up a file on her desk and began to look it over. “He’ll want to get back to his lavish lifestyle as quickly as possible, I’d imagine.”

Parker’s eyes had grown wide. “You saw him then? He actually showed?”

Olivia dropped the folder back to the desk. “Showed? An hour and a half late to his own father’s funeral is not what I call making an effort to pay your respects.”

“Maybe something happened.”

She cocked her head to the side. “He happened, Parker. He’s never going to change. This town, his father, his cousin…” Her throat closed and she forced herself to breathe. “He moved on from here. None of us were good enough to be part of Cade Carter’s life. The memory of Austin Carter will be better served if I give Cade a pen and the papers he needs to close everything out and let him get out of town as fast as he can.”

Parker bit down on his lip and nodded again. “Offer still stands if you want me to take care of it.”

“Thank you. I’ll be fine.”

He turned to leave and stopped just short of crossing over the threshold. With his back to her he spoke softly, “I’m sorry again for your loss.”

Then he was gone.

The tears were back, but she didn’t want to cry. Enough tears had been shed, and she knew these tears weren’t for Austin. They were for his son.

He hadn’t even recognized her.

In all fairness, it had been twelve years. Everyone changed in twelve years, and she’d changed more than most. She wore her hair shorter now, just grazing above her shoulders. When he’d seen her last, it had hung low down her back and curtained her face. There were no more thick glasses, poor posture, and layers upon layers of clothes to hide her body, which was now sixty pounds lighter. There was no reason for him to have recognized her at all. But she’d hoped that the young boy she’d loved was still buried inside the man somewhere and he’d have known her. But those days had passed when Olivia moved away from the house next door to Austin and Cade Carter, the day her step-father drug her away from the only people who ever cared for her.

She picked the file back up and turned toward her computer. No need to cry over a friendship that was lost at the age of twelve. No matter what a man promised you when he was a boy, it was no longer valid when he was a man.

Cade tucked himself back into his small car. He wasn’t sure what he thought he’d find when he arrived at the cemetery. Maybe he thought he’d find nothing and no one. He had planned to be late enough to pay his respects privately and escape. The last thing he thought he’d find was Olivia Baker crying over his father’s grave. He drove away from the cemetery. Hundreds of people had been laid to rest there from movie stars to John Does. He wondered which one he would be.

The road curved back down into town and the “Welcome to Aspen Creek” sign stood prominent at the entrance. Below it was a growing list of notables who had once called Aspen Creek their home.

Lillian Rose had grown up in that town and gone on to be a Hollywood icon of the golden picture era. Rose Bridge bore the name of her family. The ranch on the hill, overlooking both Aspen Creek and Aspen Hills, still had a Rose decedent living there.

Hunter Galloway was an author. Cade remembered having to read one of his books in school. Maybe that was something he should do again. They’d named the town library after him, so maybe he was a good writer.

Celeste Kirby was a gold medalist in figure skating. He’d actually known her, he thought back, but he couldn’t really remember any details.

The last plaque that had been added to the sign was Home of Cade Carter. M.V.P. Superbowl XX—the rest of the Roman numerals had chipped away.

Cade let out a snort. They’d honored him with cheap paint. Well, it was indicative of his career.

The play he’d been credited with, which had earned him that M.V.P. title, was the play that had nearly killed him. His shoulder cramped, and when he straightened it, a pain shot through him all the way down to his leg. There was no need for fancy signs to make him remember what he’d had. He had plenty of pain, everyday, to remind him of that.

He passed by Sloan’s Diner. The old, green Ford pickup was still parked on the side of the building. Mr. Sloan had had that truck for a million years. Cade smiled as he rolled through the stop sign at the corner. He’d eaten more meals in that diner than he had at his own kitchen table back in Green Bay.

Green Bay. That reminded him. He’d better call Ashley. His stay was certainly going to take a few more days than he’d expected.

He drove down Main Street, slow and easy. The pace hadn’t changed. With that noted, he remembered why he’d left. He needed people and fast pace to survive. He could feel his own life slipping away as he drove through town.

The bank was up ahead. He could just stop, take care of everything he needed to, and head back home. Then he thought better of it because that would mean having to face Olivia. The one thing he’d never forget about Olivia Baker was her temper. The very thought made him laugh aloud. He tilted his head so he could see his reflection in the review mirror. Above the rim of his glasses, he could still see the scar that ran through his eyebrow. Yeah, she’d made forever marks on him in more ways than one.

No, he’d save facing Olivia for another day. He sped up and cleared through the rest of town as he headed for Rose Bridge. As he crossed it, his fingers tensed on the steering wheel. Twelve years was a long time to stay away from home, and the closer he drove to it, the more anxious he became.

It was just a house. No one lived there anymore. He took a deep breath. God, this trip was going to kill him.

Cade pulled up in front of the house where he’d always lived… until the day he’d driven away forever. The large oak in the front yard shaded the driveway, which was in need of repair. He pulled into the drive, put the car in park, but didn’t turn the engine off. He’d never felt so alone in all his life.

The grass looked as if it hadn’t been watered in years. The paint was peeling from the house and the porch swing hung from only one chain. The large detached garage at the back of the driveway had a broken window in the door.

He let out a long sigh. He’d have to hire someone to fix this dump up before he could sell it.

Was this his father’s idea of getting back at him for abandoning him?

Cade turned off the car and slowly climbed out. He stood there, grasping the door and the roof of the car until feeling came back to his leg, and then he slammed the door and limped toward the porch.

An eerie wind blew through the trees and Cade stopped again. He glanced to his right and took in the sight of the small house next door. It had been Olivia’s house once, but unlike his, she’d never called it a home.

The window, which overlooked his father’s driveway, had been her bedroom. It faced his bedroom window. How many nights had they talked into the wee hours of morning from behind the screens? They’d made a million plans between the ages of six and twelve. Some were well thought out summer days with a picnic near the river, while others were conjured up ways on how they could run away from home. Olivia was usually the one wanting to run, and Conner was quick to get in on those plans. How ironic that she and Conner had returned to Aspen Creek, and he’d run.

His attention shifted to the tree in the back yard. He couldn’t help but smile when he noticed the pieces of their tree house still lodged among the branches and the tire swing swaying in the breeze.

It was the building that tree house that gave him the scar over his eye. Olivia sucked at swinging a hammer, but if he remembered right, Conner fared worse. She’d nearly driven a nail through Conner’s hand. He’d cried like a baby and bled a lot. Olivia turned from builder to nurse. She’d bandaged his hand and kissed his cheek. Even so many years later, Cade could feel the sting of jealousy burn through him.

He shifted his stare from the tree house to the lot behind his father’s back yard.

He slowly walked through the back yard to the edge of the property and stood almost frozen in his footsteps.

The property which extended into the hillside had belonged to his father. Out of his generosity, he’d built a house there among the groves of Aspen trees for his sister and her son.

Conner had lived there most of his life, just feet from Cade, but they’d never lived the same kind of life. In hindsight, Cade had had a beautiful childhood, even without a mother. But Conner, well, his life had always been hell.

Now, as the breeze blew around him, he looked beyond the trees to where the house had stood. Only the burned out shell remained. Conner had died there. That much he knew.

He forced himself to look away. The midday heat was getting to him. He needed to go inside and get a drink of water. Then he would assess what needed to be done and figure out whom to hire to take care of it.

Cade Carter didn’t belong in Aspen Creek anymore. He felt that deep in his bones.

He walked back to the front of the house and pulled out the key he’d shoved in his pocket before he’d left Green Bay. Chances were his father had never changed the locks.

But as he lifted the key to the lock, the door pushed open under the slight weight of his hand. Well, that made sense too. It was Aspen Creek. Who was going to break in here?

Cade stepped into the house and shut the door behind him. It was dark and musty. His father must have holed up there for months.

Immediately he noticed the television stand was empty, and there was a dust-free space where the TV had sat. He cringed. He knew exactly who had been there. Surely, his aunt had helped herself to anything important. He’d have to ask Olivia if his aunt had been there for the funeral. Perhaps that had been the opportune time to clean the house out while everyone else was mourning. He wouldn’t put it past the witch.

As he moved through the house, it grew darker where the drapes were closed. He hit the light switch, but nothing happened. Great, the power had been turned off. Slowly he started up the steps, each one harder than the last. When he reached the landing, he turned toward his bedroom and paused outside the door with his hand on the handle. He should have been back there. What kind of son completely forgets the father that loved him?

He turned the knob and pushed open the door.

For a moment, he just stood there looking in. Not one thing had moved from its place in twelve years. All of his trophies and medals were right where he’d left them. The posters still hung to the wall, and his running shoes were still tucked under the bed. Either his father had closed him off too, or he’d kept it the way it was in case he came back.

Cade walked into the room. It wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that someone had been there—recently. Every trophy had been dusted and the carpet had been vacuumed.

Did his father know he’d be home?

Had he set it up for him to return?

Or had he spent all of his time there?

Cade felt the air in his lungs grow thick. He left the room and shut the door behind him. His father’s room was next to his and it too looked the same, though the bed was rumpled. But it was the next room that caught his eye. There was a twin bed by the window, fully made with throw pillows and a quilt at the foot, and a dresser he didn’t recognize sat against the wall. But the object that had caught his attention was a crib in the corner of the room.

That had never been there. Cade felt his palms start to sweat. What was his father doing with a nursery set up in his house?

The June heat was closing in on him just as the house was. He needed that glass of water.

He hurried down the stairs as quickly as his stiff joints would let him and straight to the kitchen, but he stopped as he crossed the threshold and held his chest. His father had died in that room. He felt it. Cade closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He too had had his brush with death. He never wanted to feel that feeling again.

Pushing past his feelings, he opened the cupboard, pulled out a glass, and turned on the faucet. No water.

“Damn it.” He set the glass down on the counter. Well, he wouldn’t be staying there.

Again, he looked around the kitchen and into the other room. He’d have to stay in town and work on getting the utilities back up and running. Then he’d have to formulate a plan to clean the house up. No one would buy it the way it was. This certainly wasn’t what he expected when Ashley had forced him to head to his father’s funeral.

He headed to the front door, but something caught his eye under the couch. He bent down slowly and picked up the little car. It had been Conner’s. The unsettled feeling of death washed over him again. Cade looked up the stairs toward the room with the crib. Toys and cribs—someone had been staying with his father. Still an uneasy feeling kept with him. Whose baby had been staying there, playing with childhood toys? What had his father been up to since Cade had left him twelve years ago?