“I’ll wait.” She tilted her head, exposing that delectable throat of hers and damn, now all he could think about was nuzzling that spot right beneath her ear. Damn, he had it bad for Olive Owen and that wasn’t good. “I’m good at waiting.”
“I remember,” he said quietly, memories of their long study sessions back in high school replaying in his head. “Uh, how about we get out of here and you let me buy you a drink and we can talk about the old days?”
“The old days?” Olive narrowed her gaze on him a moment as if considering his request, her red lips compressed. For a long moment he thought she might turn him down, and Levon was surprised by how disappointed that prospect made him. Then she smiled and nodded. “Sure. I guess I’ve been waiting long enough to see how you turned out. Tonight, I get my answer. Where should we go?”
“Is the Rusty Spike still open?” he asked, waiting while she locked up her classroom, then following her to the exit. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in town.”
“Yeah, it’s still there,” Olive said, pushing out into the cool night. The parking lot and his waiting truck were not far away. “Still a total dive too.”
“If there’s somewhere else you want to go…”
“No. The Rusty Spike is fine. Not much else to choose from around here,” she said, walking beside him down the sidewalk, the orangeish glow from the streetlights catching fire in the highlights running through her chocolate-colored curls. Levon felt an insane urge to run his fingers through them to see if they felt as soft as they looked, but he didn’t think Olive would appreciate him messing up her fancy new do.
“Which car is yours?” she asked, jarring him out of his inappropriate thoughts.
“Oh, that one,” he said, pointing to the shiny black extended cab Ford. It was a nice ride, with plenty of leg room for him and all the bells and whistles inside. If he’d been in the market for a vehicle of his own, this would be the one he’d get. As it was, he wouldn’t be in town long enough to do much driving. He’d be off on his last SEAL mission soon enough. “It’s a rental.”
“Nice.”
He clicked the button on the key fob and the lights flickered as the doors clicked open. Olive opened the passenger side door before Levon could get there to do it for her and climbed into her seat, buckling her seatbelt while he walked around the front of the truck and slid in behind the wheel. Soon he’d cranked the engine and pulled out of the lot, heading for the only bar in town. While he drove, awkward silence descended between them again, until Olive started chatting about the people at the reunion. He only half-listened, more interested in her than any of the other losers he’d become reacquainted with tonight.
They slowed for a red light and she giggled. An honest to God giggle, and the husky sound went straight to Levon’s groin. So much for playing it cool. He shifted in his seat, glad his longer shirt covered any embarrassing situations down below. Olive ran a hand through her hair, then looked over at him. “Sorry. I think I might’ve had too much punch back at the gym.”
Me too. Levon bit back the words and frowned, punching the accelerator harder than necessary once the light turned green. Moments later, they arrived at the bar and he pulled into an open spot near the end of the row in the gravel lot. This time he got out and went around to help Olive out of the truck. The height meant her skirt rode up a bit as she stepped down, giving him a glimpse of slim thighs and shapely calves and damn if he couldn’t stop thinking about those legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her warm wetness over and over again.
Shit.
“Thanks,” Olive said, her hand still in his as she stood before him, their eyes locked and their breath hitching. Oh boy. Then she stepped back and smoothed her hand down her dress. “We should, um, get inside and get a table. The place fills up quick.”
Right. They were here to have a drink and get reacquainted, not screw in the parking lot. The sooner Levon remembered that, the better. Still, as he followed her into the dark, noisy bar, he couldn’t help noticing the sway of her hips as she walked.
Luckily, there were two seats still open at the end of the bar by the pool tables and they took a seat, Levon ordering a dark lager and Olive sticking with sparkling water this time.
“So,” he said after taking a long swig from his bottle to quench his parched throat. “What have you been up to since high school?”
“Well, college, of course. Then coming back here and getting a job teaching science.”
“Really?” At her grin, he connected the dots. “Wait, are you saying you teach at Harper’s Forge High now?”
“Yep. In fact, that classroom you barged into earlier is mine.”
“Wow.” Levon chuckled, some of the tension knotting between his shoulder blades easing. “Imagine that. Olive Owen taking over our old classroom.”
“It’s Miss Owen now.” She winked at him and the room seemed to get a little hotter. Levon resisted the urge to run his finger beneath the collar of his shirt. “And yes. The sophomores are mine.”
Amidst the clack of pool balls from the tables nearby and the drone of conversation around them, he and Olive spent the next hour or so catching up. He told her as much as he could about his time in the Navy and his training for the SEALs, and she talked about her
