Betrayals (Cainsville Book 4) Read Online Free Page B

left her on that roadside. Then he’d sealed the loss when she’d called and called and, yes, he did come—came running as soon as he heard her messages—but it’d been too little, too late.
    He’d spent the intervening months telling himself it was better this way. What was the alternative? That he keep jealously consuming her time and attention with no intention of taking more, of
giving
more?
    In that moment, at the office, as she’d been leaving and he’d wanted to speak, it wasn’t just the tattoo that stopped him. He’d wanted to say, “Stay,” and nothing more, because he didn’t know what more to say.
    I don’t want you to go. I want … I want to try …
    I want to go back to the beach. Before Tristan came. I want that moment again, and I want more than that. I want you to tell Ricky goodbye. Be free of him so I can try to make this more. But I can’t guarantee anything. I can’t guarantee it’ll work or that I’m capable of more, capable of being anything you need, capable of knowing what you need, of making you happy. I probably can’t.
    I’ll try and I’ll make a mess of it, and you’ll leave for good, finally say “Enough” and walk out.
    Gabriel had never had a relationship with a woman that lasted beyond a night. No person had ever gotten as close to him as Olivia already was, and he’d screwed that up time after time, which proved he really wasn’t cut out for more, was deluding himself if he thought otherwise.
    But the bigger delusion? The past four months of telling himself this distance was for the best.
    He was right to leave her with Ricky. To not interfere. That wasn’t easy—Gabriel was accustomed to getting what he wanted, and having admitted that he wanted Olivia, doing nothing about it went against everything in his nature. But if he cared about her, then he could do that. He had to.
    If he was being honest, it was not so much selflessness as an exercise in delayed gratification, a concept he was more familiar with: working toward a goal with systematic forethought. He was not saying he’d leave her with Ricky
forever
. He was stepping back to reassess and determine exactly how to win her.
    To that end, he’d accepted the fact that he was not happy about this schism between them. No, let’s be honest. To say he was “not happy” understated the matter entirely. He’d had something and he’d lost it and he wanted it back, even if “it” was only more of that evening on the beach, the feeling that he could stay in that moment forever, like a peasant caught in a fae dance, not caring if the rest of the world continued on without him. For now,
that
would be enough. To get back what they had.
    He’d known it would take effort. He had lost Olivia before, so he knew how to proceed, with care and caution. Yet this time, none of that was working.
    He brought her mochas, made exactly the way she liked them, and they’d sit barely touched on her desk. He’d offered to take her to the lessons required for her concealed carry permit, but she’d gone with Ricky instead. He’d convinced her to start driving her father’s Maserati and then hinted at taking rides along the coast, teased that he could get her out of speeding tickets, but she’d only laughed. He would take her to lunch at her favorite restaurants and they’d talk nothing but business.He’d make dinner reservations at “their” steakhouse, but she was always too busy, seemed annoyed by his presumption.
    Olivia didn’t appear to be actively blocking him. Simply oblivious.
    No, simply uninterested.
    He’d been about to make his most desperate play: suggest they visit the Carew house. It was her great-great-grandmother’s home, and the site of most of Olivia’s visions, and while that made him nervous, the house fascinated her as few things did. He would find some excuse and they’d go back and maybe there they’d recapture something they’d lost.
    Then came the call tonight, and with it he’d seen