Their people try to tear them apart, but in the end, true love triumphs over all.
Once the film ended, Candace murmured, “It’s just like that line from Sunset Boulevard. They didn’t need words, they had faces.”
“I think you’re right.”
“Your great-granddad was a handsome dude.”
“He was apparently quite the rogue.”
“Like grandfather like grandson?”
He grunted and slipped his arm out from under her so he could go turn off the projector.
“Come on, Oliver, spill,” she said, leaning over the arm of the couch to watch him. “Did you leave a trail of broken hearts throughout Hollywood when you moved up here?”
“Hardly.” He swallowed visibly. “Just the one.”
The teasing light faded from her eyes. “You mentioned that at the bar. She left you because of the scandal?”
“Yes. She bailed right around the time the newspapers started sucking my blood.”
He flipped the projector off, not bothering to turn on the floor lamp in the corner. It was cozy in here, with enough illumination spilling in from the nearby kitchen to cast warm streaks of light on her beautiful face.
He hadn’t necessarily intended to have this conversation, but figured it had probably been inevitable. So he admitted, “We worked together. When I started making waves in our little office pool, she swam for the shallow end and left me there, treading water.”
Looking indignant on his behalf, she sat up and crossed her arms over her chest. “Bitch.”
“Maybe. She was ambitious and didn’t want to go down with a sinking ship.”
“Then she obviously didn’t care very much about you. She could have, at the very least, thrown you a life preserver.”
Nobody had. None of his colleagues, anyway. Nobody he worked with had wanted to come anywhere near him once he’d made himself a marked man by going up against the powerful D.A. Yes, eventually the media, the public and the judicial system had started calling him a rare man with integrity. A hero. But behind closed doors, he had been vilified. He was finished in Orange County, and he knew it. Unless, as Candace had suggested, he kept on living simply and started taking some jobs on his own. He couldn’t deny he’d been thinking about it since she’d suggested it. His experience as a prosecutor had made him view most defendants as guilty, but he knew in his soul that some were not. It was just a matter of finding them.
Candace rose to her feet, crossed to him and put her hand on his chest. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Oliver. But can I also say I’m glad it brought you here? I honestly hate to think of what my life would be like right now if you hadn’t been here waiting for me when I arrived.”
He put his hands on her hips and drew her close, pressing a soft kiss on her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him more deeply, parting her lips, sliding that delicious tongue out to play with his. God, how he loved kissing this woman. Loved the way she molded against his body, every curve of her fitting into some hollow in his.
After a long moment, she said, “Want to head over to your place?”
By unspoken agreement, they’d confined their lovemaking to the cottage, as if neither of them wanted to take advantage of Buddy by making love in his house. “Yeah.”
“Give me a couple of minutes,” she said with an impish smile. She walked toward the stairs. “I want to throw a few things in a bag.”
He didn’t think she meant luggage since his place was all of a hundred yards from here. He could only hope she meant she wanted to pack something sinfully sultry...or wickedly erotic.
“Am I going to like what you’re packing?”
“You’re going to love what I’m packing,” she promised with a saucy wink. Then she turned and hurried up the stairs.
Figuring he’d have a few minutes, Oliver carefully took apart the old projector. He placed the components back in the case, and collapsed the screen. Buddy had kept the things in a small storage room adjoining the kitchen, so he carried them back there, carefully setting the antique equipment in a corner where it wouldn’t be tripped on. Afterward, he cleaned up the food and their drinks and carried the leftovers to the kitchen, finding places for them in the cabinets.
The Dots he kept. He tucked the half-empty box into his pocket, envisioning a few places he’d like to put them...just so he could pull them back