Conor

8

“WHY CAN’T WE go out?” Olivia asked. “The weather is beautiful. And no one has tried to shoot me for days. Why can’t we go for a drive or just take a walk? We could go out for lunch! We’ll drive way out in the country where no one could possibly recognize us. I’d even settle for drive-thru.”

Conor looked up at her from behind his newspaper. He’d been strangely silent the past few days, distant, as if something weighed heavily on his mind. He’d made a few trips into the city and come back distracted, his face lined with tension, but when Olivia had asked what was wrong, he’d smiled and reassured her that everything was fine. She thought his worry might have to do with the trial and her testimony, that the danger to her wouldn’t end at that. But she didn’t want anything to interfere with the last few days they had together, so Olivia didn’t press with her questions.

Their nights together hadn’t changed. They’d both conveniently forgotten the promise they’d made and fallen into bed the very next night with as much passion as ever. Conor had been particularly uninhibited, making love to her each night until neither one of them could move, almost as if he were making love to her for the last time. After a night like that, she almost expected him to be gone in the morning. But Conor was always there when she woke, his limbs tangled with hers, his face nestled in the curve of her neck.

They hadn’t mentioned the future, but Olivia knew with every day that passed they were coming closer to the time when they’d no longer have to be together. She’d expected that the district attorney would want to see her before she testified, but Conor hadn’t mentioned anything about a meeting before the trial. She’d learned to trust him without question.

“Please,” she begged, “put down your newspaper.”

“All right,” Conor said. He tossed aside the Boston Globe and levered up from the couch. “We’ll take a drive. I’ll show you my favorite spot in all of Boston.”

Olivia clapped her hands, then raced to the bedroom to grab her jacket. She didn’t care whether they were taking a risk. She needed to find out what life was like outside the condo. But, more importantly, she needed to find out what Conor was like when he wasn’t standing guard or making love to her. They’d never really been out together and she needed a chance to gauge his feelings once they went back to the real world. Would he still touch her at every opportunity? Would he take her hand or drape an arm around her shoulders? Would he be at ease or would reality shatter the dream world they’d lived in for the past week?

She hurried out of the bedroom to find Conor waiting at the door. He opened it gallantly, then swept out his arm. “Your carriage awaits,” he teased.

In truth, Olivia was surprised that he’d agreed to take her out at all. He was normally so vigilant, but maybe even he had started to go a little stir-crazy. When she stepped into the sunshine and the fresh air, she stopped and held her hands out. Then she closed her eyes and twirled around. “I feel like I’ve been released from prison,” she cried. “It’s a glorious day.”

She ran to the car and Conor opened the door for her. Then he jogged around to the driver’s side. Though the car wasn’t Dylan’s Mustang, it did move. And it was taking them out on an adventure! Olivia didn’t care whether the muffler rumbled or the car shook when it went fast. She was with Conor and they were spending time in the real world. That was as close to heaven as she could imagine.

Conor drove through Concord, heading toward downtown Boston. Olivia stared out the window, watching the scenery pass by. Although she’d seen the same sights many times, everything looked so much brighter and prettier to her eyes. She hadn’t realized how sheltered she had been, locked away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” Conor replied with a smile.

She slid over the wide front seat to sit beside him, then slipped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know I’m going to have a good time, no matter where we go.”

They rode most of the way in silence, enjoying the drive together. Conor steered the car off the freeway and soon they were winding along Boston’s waterfront near the Fort Point Channel. Conor found a parking spot and they got out of the car and began to walk toward Waterfront Park. Olivia wove her fingers through his and they strolled hand in hand to a grassy spot near the water’s edge.

“I used to come here when I was a kid,” Conor explained. He sat down on the grass and pulled her down next to him, then smiled crookedly. “Come to think of it, I wasn’t ever really a kid.”

“You weren’t?”

Conor shook his head. “Not after my ma left. When my da was out chasing swordfish around the North Atlantic, I’d have to find things to keep my brothers busy during the summer. Dylan and Brendan liked to get into trouble. So we’d take the ‘T’ and come out here and watch the planes all day. And if we had enough money, we’d ride the ferry back and forth to Logan. Sometimes we’d even go inside the airport, although security knew to look out for us.”

“All by yourself?”

“I was sixteen and my brothers were used to listening to me. It was cheap entertainment. And it was a favorite trip. If I ever wanted my brothers to do something, all I had to do was promise them a trip out here to watch the planes. Brendan used to love this spot. He’d memorize plane schedules and he’d know where every plane was going. I think that’s what gave him such wanderlust.”

“You did a good job with them,” Olivia said softly as she squeezed his hand. “They’re all wonderful men. I don’t even know them well, but I know that’s true.”

“Problem is, I didn’t do such a good job on myself,” he said, his smile turning ironic.

“That’s not true,” Olivia said.

Conor shrugged. “I never gave myself much chance to have fun. My brothers say I have to lighten up.”

“We’ve had fun together,” she said, “when we weren’t getting shot at.”

“But I never had fun when I was younger. Never went out on a date until I was nineteen. Girls didn’t exactly enjoy five younger brothers tagging along everywhere I went. And I couldn’t trust Dylan or Brendan to take care of the twins and Liam. So I was a stay-at-home brother. I guess that’s why my social skills leave something to be desired.”

“Well, I think you have other skills that make up for that,” she said as she lay back on the grass.

Olivia stared up at the sky, a perfect shade of blue. She’d been to Waterfront Park before, but today was different. She was seeing it through Conor’s eyes. As the planes roared overhead, heading out in different directions from Logan, Olivia could almost picture those six lost boys. He’d been a good parent to them, and he’d probably be an even better parent to his own children. She had never thought much about a family of her own. But sitting here next to Conor, she could imagine them with children.

“Olivia, there’s something I need to tell you.”

She opened her eyes to find him leaning over her, a serious expression on his face. Reaching out, Olivia placed a finger over his lips. “No,” she murmured. “This day is perfect. I don’t want to spoil it. There’ll be time to talk later. I just want to enjoy the fresh air and the sunshine.” She flopped back on the grass and stared up at the sky. “How could I have been so terrified just a week ago and so incredibly happy today? I just want it to last.”

“I’m glad,” he said, sitting back.

She shaded her eyes with her hand to study his face, then rolled over on her stomach. “What’s it going to be like after I testify?” she asked. “Will I still have to worry about Keenan?”

“No,” Conor said softly. “You won’t have to worry about Keenan ever again.”

“But what if he gets out and he decides he wants revenge?”

Conor took her hand and brought it to his lips, then placed a warm kiss on the inside of her wrist. “Then I’ll protect you,” he said.

His words were so simple and heartfelt that Olivia could almost believe he’d be there. “Will we see each other after the trial?” she asked.

Conor shrugged. “You’ll be busy trying to get your business back on track. And you’ll have your friends. You won’t have any time to think about me.”

“That’s not true,” Olivia said.

“It is,” Conor replied. “Be honest, Olivia. If I’d walked up to you on the street and asked you out, you would have run in the opposite direction. You’re from a different world, privileged, sophisticated, cultured. I’m just a cop and not a very good one at that.”

“But that’s not who I am,” she said. “I didn’t grow up on Beacon Hill. I grew up living above a little store-front in North End. My parents were hippies. They bought and sold what they called antiques, but what I’d probably call junk. We were poor, living hand-to-mouth. This me that you think you know is a me that I constructed from scratch. I read magazines to learn how to dress and studied books to understand my clients. I even took speech lessons so I could talk like I had money. I’m a complete fraud.”

“But you belong in that world now,” he said. “You’ve made a place for yourself with your high-society friends and your expensive antiques.”

“But I like your world,” she countered. “It’s much more exciting. It makes me feel alive.”

Conor shook his head. “I’ll make you a deal. When this is over, we’ll go back to our lives, and if you still feel the same way in a month, then we’ll talk.”

An entire month without Conor was unthinkable. She could barely pass an hour alone without craving the sound of his voice or the warmth of his touch. But Conor had wounds that went deep, wounds that made him distrust women. If he needed them to have time apart to prove her feelings, then that’s what she’d give him. “Promise?” she asked. “Just a month?”

He nodded.

“I’ll never regret what we shared,” she said.

“Neither will I,” Conor replied, dropping a quick kiss on her lips. “Neither will I.”

THE LADIES had gathered around the table for morning coffee as was their habit but, today, they had invited themselves over to Olivia’s apartment for the morning ritual. Olivia hadn’t had the heart to refuse and, in all truth, she welcomed the company. She needed something-anything-to take her mind off Conor.

Since their field trip to the airport, things had changed, in some ways for the better, but in many ways for the worse. They’d become closer than ever emotionally, sharing stories from their pasts and spending the waking hours together in quiet conversation. They’d talked about his childhood, his parents, his early years in Ireland. She felt as if she’d been given a window into his soul and it was a rare gift. Conor wasn’t one to let anyone see the real man beneath the indifferent exterior. She’d been allowed in.

But since that night when they had returned from Waterfront Park, Conor hadn’t shared her bed. Like so many other topics of conversation, Olivia had been afraid to broach the subject with him. Besides, she suspected what he was doing. They only had a few more days together before the trial and he was preparing them both for the inevitable. Once the trial began, there’d be no more reason for them to be together. It was a sensible plan, Olivia thought, though it was hard to fall asleep without Conor exhausting her first with his lovemaking and then keeping her warm with his body. She’d been tempted to go to him, to ask him for one last night together. But she’d done that once and she couldn’t bear to do it again.

Olivia drew a deep breath. She should have been satisfied with the new direction their relationship had taken-one where emotional intimacy had replaced physical pleasure. But over the past few days, she’d come to love Conor more than ever. And she wanted to express it in both words and actions.

Instead, Olivia found herself working out her frustrations by cooking. She made elaborate meals for them both. Conor, on the other hand, chose to exercise away his carnal feelings. Every morning, he headed out, only to return an hour later completely exhausted. And after a long shower, he’d run errands to the grocery store and the coin laundry and the gas station. Then, right before lunch, they’d leave for another field trip, an activity that had become a daily routine over the past three days.

Yesterday, they’d walked the Freedom Trail, something neither one of them had ever done, even though they’d both grown up in Boston. They wound their way through Boston, stopping at the Bunker Hill Monument and Paul Revere’s house and the Old North Church. And the day before that, they’d visited the Museum of Science, then walked along the banks of the Charles until the sun had nearly set.

She’d managed to forget the upcoming trial, her worries fading into an occasional twinge of apprehension. Olivia wasn’t sure how her life would change once she testified against Keenan and Kevin Ford, only that she couldn’t imagine her future without Conor. She was madly in love with him and, for the first time in her life, she realized that there might be a man who could make her happy forever.

Olivia had tried to determine when her feelings had become so focused but, in truth, she couldn’t remember a moment when she wasn’t in love with Conor Quinn. They’d known each other just a week, yet she knew more about him than any other man she’d ever loved-or thought she’d loved.

She knew now that those other men had all been passing moments in her life, marking time until she was destined to meet Conor. Suddenly, her decision to testify made sense, as did all the other crazy things that had happened since she’d first called the police. This had all been part of a cosmic plan so that she could find the man she was supposed to love.

“My goodness, dear, you look like you’re a million miles away,” Sadie said.

Olivia blinked, then glanced around the table at the five elderly ladies who’d gathered for coffee and Danish. They were all staring at her. “I-I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“Where is that gorgeous husband of yours?” Doris asked.

“He went out for a run. He likes to get some exercise in the morning. And sometimes in the evening, too. Can I get anyone else coffee?”

They all shook their heads and she noticed that all their cups were full and their Danish untouched. The five of them-Sadie, Doris, Ruth Ann, Geraldine and Louise-stared at her expectantly. “Go ahead,” Ruth Ann whispered, giving Sadie an elbow. “Ask her.”

“Ask me?” Olivia murmured, picking up her glass of orange juice. “Ask me what?”

Sadie smiled brightly. “So tell us, dear, how is the sex?”

Olivia’s eyes went wide at the same moment her orange juice went down the wrong pipe. She coughed, covering her mouth and looking at the ladies through watery eyes. “Sex?”

Geraldine leaned forward, staring at Olivia through her bifocals. “Yes, dear. Tell us, is there anything new out there? All of us have been out of the loop, so to speak. And we like to keep up on new…trends.”

“And it’s obvious you’re doing something right,” Ruth Ann said. “That man of yours always looks so satisfied.” She reached over and patted Olivia’s hand. “Don’t be embarrassed, dear. Sex is a regular topic of conversation with us.”

Olivia forced a smile, a warm blush rising on her cheeks. “Ladies, I really don’t think-”

“Maybe if I picked up a few new tricks,” Louise said, “my George wouldn’t always be making eyes at that hussy, Eleanor Harrington. Ever since her husband died, she’s been on the prowl.”

The other ladies nodded their heads in sympathy. “With the ratio of women to men at Waterbrook, it’s a dog-eat-dog world,” Sadie said. “I have to keep my Harold under lock and key for fear that one of those widows might charm him away.”

“So how is it you keep your man happy?” Doris asked. “Do you cook him special foods? I hear oysters are supposed to make a man very randy.”

Olivia swallowed hard. “Randy?”

“Oh, Doris, I’ve tried oysters and Harold just got gas,” Sadie said. “I think there must be some new techniques. I see the books at the bookstore, although I’d never be caught dead taking one to the checkout counter. How to Drive Your Man Wild in Bed. It’s one thing to discuss it over coffee, but can you believe someone would write about that?”

“I wonder if they’d have that one at the library,” Louise asked.

The door to the condo opened and Conor strode in, dressed in sweatpants and running shoes, his damp T-shirt tossed over his shoulder. He’d left before the ladies had arrived and Olivia hadn’t bothered to tell him about her plans for entertaining, certain he’d disapprove. “Hi, darling!” she cried, jumping up from her spot at the table.

Conor glanced between her and the ladies, who were staring at him with undisguised appreciation. He gave them all a quick glance, then planted a clumsy kiss on Olivia’s lips, surprising them both.

The ladies giggled amongst themselves and Conor smiled at them all. “Good morning, ladies. How are you today?” They giggled again, like a bunch of shy schoolgirls. He gave them an odd look, then turned to Olivia. “Could I speak to you in the bedroom?”

Olivia followed him down the hall, then closed the door behind her. All of his things were scattered around her bedroom, tossed inside before the ladies had arrived. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want me talking to the neighbors, but-”

“No,” Conor said, staring at the piles of clothes. He spied his jeans, then picked them up and rummaged through the pockets. “Where are my keys?”

“No?”

He picked through a pile of clothes until he found yesterday’s flannel shirt. Then he checked that pocket. “No,” he repeated. “I don’t mind. Do you know where my keys are?”

Olivia stepped over to the dresser and grabbed the keys, then held them out to him. “They were in your shoe underneath the coffee table. I-I had to clean up before the ladies arrived.”

Conor glanced up distractedly. “I have to go,” he said. “Are you going to be all right here alone?”

“I thought we were going to go out to-”

“No, we can’t. I’ve got business to take care of down at the station house. I’m going to run home first and shower and change. I’ll probably be gone most of the day.”

“Is this about the trial?” Olivia asked.

“No. It’s just some business that I have to take care of.” He pulled the door open, then started off down the hall, Olivia right on his heels.

“Conor, wait.”

He stopped and turned to her at the front door, then glanced over her shoulder at the ladies. With a tight smile, he bent close and placed another awkward kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you in a little while, darling.” He gave the ladies a wave and then walked out, leaving Olivia to wonder just what was so important that it preoccupied his thoughts so completely.

“Bye,” she murmured, closing the door behind him. Olivia slowly walked back to the table and took her place.

Sadie sighed. “I suppose the honeymoon has to be over sometime, dear.”

Olivia forced a smile, then reached for the pitcher of orange juice. As she poured herself a glass, she noticed the little bouquet of flowers that Geraldine had brought over to brighten the table. The daisies were placed in a faux silver tankard that had a remarkably realistic patina. Olivia reached for it and plucked a daisy out, then began to pull the petals off one by one. He loves me, he loves me not, she chanted silently.

The ladies continued to chat while Olivia listened with half an ear. She picked up the tankard and idly studied the design. For a reproduction, it really was quite remarkable. The weight was almost perfect for one of real silver. Usually she could tell real Colonial silver from reproduction without a second glance, but this piece almost left her guessing.

“Where did you get this?” Olivia asked. She held it up and stared at the bottom, looking at the mark. Her stomach did a quick flip-flop and she tried to remain calm.

“At the supermarket,” Geraldine said. “I love fresh flowers and they have bouquets of daisies and carnations and mums for $3.99. They last nearly a week.”

“Not the flowers,” Olivia said. “The silver tankard.”

Geraldine stared at it for a moment. “Oh, I don’t know. I used to go to a lot of rummage sales when Louis and I were first married. We didn’t have much money so I had to decorate on a budget. I must have picked it up then.”

“At a rummage sale?”

“What difference does it make? It’s just a cheap little thing, but I always thought it made a pretty vase.”

Olivia pushed up from the table. “Would you mind if I borrowed this for a while?”

Geraldine’s brow wrinkled in confusion but she nodded. “Why, certainly. In fact, if you’d like it, you can have it.”

Olivia shook her head. “I-I don’t think you want to give this to me,” she murmured. Excitement pulsed through her, the same thrill she got whenever she found a hidden treasure. She’d wondered if she’d ever get that feeling back again, and here it was, as if it were simply part of her nature. “I have to go into Boston, but Conor has the car.”

“Is there something wrong?” Sadie asked.

“No,” Olivia said. “In fact, there might be something really right. I just need to check it out first. Can one of you take me to the train station?”

“What is it, dear?” Sadie asked.

“It’s this,” Olivia said, holding up the tankard. “Geraldine, I think this might be very valuable. I’m not sure yet, so I have to check some books.”

“Valuable?” Geraldine said. “That old thing? How valuable?”

“Very,” Olivia said. She turned from the table and grabbed her purse and jacket from the couch in the living room. “So who can take me?”

Sadie smiled, then clapped her hands. “Why, we’ll all take you. This is very exciting. A valuable treasure right in our midst. Come on, ladies, let’s go. We’ll get the details in the car.” With that, all five of them hurried out the door. Olivia glanced around the apartment, then wondered whether she should leave a note for Conor.

In the end, she decided not to. It would take her an hour at the most to get downtown on the train and an hour to get back. She’d only need a few minutes at the shop and she’d have her answers. No, she didn’t need to leave a note. She’d be back in plenty of time.

FOR ONCE in his career, Conor wished he was back in a patrol car. At least he’d have a siren and lights to clear the way. But instead, he was stuck with the heap that his brother had procured, a car that shimmied over the speed of fifty and cornered as if the street were covered with Crisco.

He’d arrived home from his meeting with the brass to find the apartment empty. At first, he’d assumed that Olivia had gone over to one of the ladies’ apartments for whatever it was they did together. But when he knocked on Sadie’s door, she informed him that they had taken Olivia to the train station and that Olivia was on her way into Boston.

The first thought Conor had was that she’d somehow found out about Kevin Ford, that she wouldn’t have to testify and that their past four days together had been stolen time. He knew in his heart he shouldn’t have lied to her and the guilt had been killing him. He’d wanted to tell her the truth, been tempted to tell her nearly every hour of every day.

But after that wonderful night on the dining room table, he knew that he couldn’t let her go. She might be able to forgive him for wanting more time, but she might never forgive him for taking advantage of that time. Conor cursed softly.

He’d always had such a strong moral compass. What had happened to it? Since he’d met Olivia, he’d done things that would have once been unthinkable, bucking department regulations, falling in love with a witness, then deceiving a woman he’d come to love. But he’d done everything for the right reasons, in the hopes that Olivia might want a future with him.

Charles Street, as always, was bustling with shoppers and workday pedestrians and even a few groups of tourists. Conor double-parked, not even caring that the cops might tow the heap he was driving. He found the front door to Olivia’s shop locked. Peering through the windows, he couldn’t see anything in the dark interior except the shadowy forms of huge pieces of furniture-no movement, no light, nothing.

His heart slammed in his chest, his instincts on alert, but then he remembered there was no longer any danger. He wouldn’t find Olivia inside, lying in a pool of blood. Keenan had called off his dogs and she had nothing to fear. He pounded on the door and waited impatiently. Sadie had mentioned something about a silver tankard and a special mark. He’d assumed she’d come to the shop, but maybe she’d gone home-or to one of the museums or libraries.

Conor hammered on the door again with his fist and, a few moments later, he heard a voice coming from inside. “We’re closed,” Olivia called.

“Olivia, let me in. It’s Conor.”

An instant later, the door swung open and Olivia stood in the doorway. “Conor!”

Conor stepped by her and walked into the shop. He glanced around, curious as to what it was she did for a living and impressed by the assortment of antiques in her shop. Even in the dim light he could see the fine quality of the furniture, the careful craftsmanship. This was her world, a world completely unknown to him. Hell, he had a twenty-year-old sofa and a coffee table he’d found in the alley behind his house. He reached over and grabbed the price tag for a huge wardrobe. It cost more than he made in a year.

“I’m sorry I left,” Olivia said softly. “I-I thought I’d be back before you returned.”

Conor turned and found her staring up at him, a frightened look on her face. Good grief, she still thought Keenan was after her. And she still believed that what she’d done would bring out his temper. He never, ever wanted to see that look of fear in her eyes again.

“Please don’t be angry. I was careful,” she said.

“I’m not angry with you,” Conor replied.

“I just had to come. I wasn’t sure about the mark but I knew I had a book here to check it out.” She held up the tankard. “I thought I’d never feel this way again, Conor. Every time I remembered what I did for a living, I just got sad and depressed that it was all over. And then I saw this and I got that old feeling.”

“Feeling?” he asked.

“It’s like a little flutter in my stomach, a little lurch of excitement. Usually, I try to contain it, to tell myself that I might be too optimistic. But it’s like digging in your garden and discovering gold.”

“And this is all over a beer mug?”

Olivia sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “It’s a silver tankard. And it’s a Revere,” she said, her voice full of awe and wonderment.

“A Revere? Like Paul Revere?”

“Not like Paul Revere,” she repeated. “It is Paul Revere. He was a silversmith. His pieces have turned up in the oddest places, buried in peoples’ backyards, hidden in walls. Do you have any idea how much this is worth? There are so few of these that have survived. When an original piece comes on the market, people take notice.”

Conor stared down at her, the excitement suffusing her face making his guilt more acute. She looked so happy, so alive. She was doing something she loved, excited about the possibilities. He glanced around the shop at all the fancy furniture with the expensive price tags. This was her world. This was where she belonged and he’d kept her from this, from everything she’d loved. “Olivia, we need to talk.”

“Geraldine was putting flowers in a Paul Revere silver tankard. Do you know what this means? I can put it up for auction and everyone will come to see it here in my shop before it’s sold. The prestige of having this in my shop will do wonders to restore my reputation.” She reached up and placed her palm on his cheek. “Please, don’t be mad at me. I know I took a risk but-”

“No,” Conor interrupted.

“No?” Olivia asked.

“There’s no risk,” he murmured. “That’s what I came here to tell you.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re free,” he said, the words burning in his throat. “Kevin Ford agreed to testify. Ford’s got all sorts of incriminating evidence against Keenan and his whole wiseguy family. They’re all scrambling over each other to see who can be the first to cut a deal. So you’re off the hook.”

Olivia let out a long breath, then smiled in amazement. “I don’t have to testify?”

“You don’t have to testify,” Conor murmured.

With a squeal of delight, she threw herself at Conor and hugged him fiercely. Then she kissed him long and hard until he had no choice but to respond. When she finally pulled back, she was breathless with excitement. “I can’t believe this. It’s all over. I can get back to a real life.”

A real life, Conor mused. Her words were like a dagger to his heart. A life without him. A life living among her expensive antiques and society friends. “So, I guess this is it,” he said, schooling his voice into indifference. “I can have your things from the condo delivered to your house. And I’ll make sure Tommy gets back home, safe and sound. And once-”

“You’re talking like we’re never going to see each other again,” Olivia interrupted, her eyes wide, her mouth still damp from the kiss they shared.

Conor gently set her away from him and stared down into her wide eyes. “Remember that deal we made? The one where we go our separate ways, and then if you still feel something for me in a month, we can talk? Well, I was thinking we should do that. Only not for a month, but maybe for three or four?”

Conor saw the hurt in her eyes, and he knew he’d caused it, yet he couldn’t take back the words. He hardened his heart and shored up his resolve. Once she went back to her world, she’d forget all about him.

“I don’t like that deal,” Olivia said stubbornly.

Conor sighed. She wasn’t going to make this easy. “I’ve been suspended, Olivia. That’s what I found out today at a meeting with my boss. There’s going to be an investigation into my…improper behavior.”

“You saved my life!” Olivia cried. “How can that be improper?”

“You were a witness and I exerted undue influence. I developed feelings for you when I knew it was wrong. I ignored departmental procedure. I figure my career with the Boston Police Department is probably over.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Olivia said, reaching out to touch his arm. “I don’t care if you’re a cop or not.”

“But I do,” Conor said, evading her touch. “Just like this is who you are, a cop is who I am. If I’m not a cop, then I’ve got nothing.”

“You have me,” Olivia insisted.

“But I don’t have anything to offer you. Come on, Olivia, at least you should know that much about me. I have to take care of the people I love. I can’t let them take care of me.”

She blinked once, her gaze fixed on his. “Then you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“You love me,” she said. “And I love you. And we can get through this.”

Conor shook his head, then cupped her cheek in his hand. He wanted to believe in the truth in her words, but all this had happened so quickly between them. People didn’t fall in love in a week. And those who did usually fell out of love just as quickly. “I have to get through this on my own. And I think you need time to realize that what we had didn’t ever exist in the real world. You live in the real world, Olivia, where people like you don’t socialize with cops.”

“Please, don’t leave me,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

“Give it time,” he murmured, taking a step back. The very effort made his heart twist in his chest. Then he turned and walked toward the door. A muffled sob echoed through the shop and he cursed himself for hurting her. But it was better this way. She would hurt for a few days and then she’d realize that she never really loved him at all.

When he reached the street, he stopped, fighting the urge to go back in and kiss away all his doubts. “Give it time,” Conor murmured as he started toward the car. “Just give it some time.”