Cast Not Love Away

By Felicia Ferguson

Author's Note: All details and disclaimers in chapter one. Enjoy the story!

Chapter Two

Monday

While Shane's bot program hammered away at firewalls in the search for information about the coin, the team had spent most of Thursday and all of Friday compiling something of a training manual for their new Floridian colleagues. But when the back DLO doors opened Monday morning, Shane realized nothing could have fully prepared her for that new colleague.

Samantha Morris was barely five foot tall, beautifully tanned, with long naturally platinum blond hair and sparkling green eyes. When she spoke, the sugared and honied South practically dripped from her words. Shane squelched the sudden pang that gripped her and pasted on a welcoming smile as Rita and Norman joined her in front of Oliver's desk.

Oliver rose on his toes, a lofty, professional tone filling his voice as he gestured to each member of the team. "This is our technology specialist, Ms. Shane McInerney." A slight pause and a quick glance to her followed his introduction.

He wanted to say it. Wanted to call her "O'Toole." And in actuality she was surprised he didn't. After all, the only time she specifically went by her maiden name was during letter deliveries. But maybe he figured it was better to err on the side of professionalism since he was the section leader and Samantha was new member to their task force. And besides, Becky had arranged Samantha's trip and training. So surely she would have already let Samantha in on the interpersonal dynamics of the Denver DLO.

Oliver continued on with his introductions in the same formal tones. "Norman Dorman our stamp recovery expert and chemical solution specialist. Rita Haywith-Dorman, our sorting expert. And our postal assistant Charley is at the Terminal Annex but will be returning shortly."

Samantha extended her hand to each of them in turn, genuine warmth radiating from her eyes and through her easy grip. "It is such a pleasure to finally meet y'all after hearing about all y'all's work these past few years."

Oliver rose on his toes then dipped his head in an approving nod. "And congratulations on your teams' own Dark of Night awards."

Samantha glowed even as she shook her head. "It was such a shock, I tell you. Who knew delivering a lost sailboat during a hurricane would get so much attention? And to be the newest member of that already established team when it happened, well, it is definitely an honor, let me tell you."

Oliver's gracious but professional tones redirected any comment the rest of the team might have made. "Ms. Morris, I will take you on a tour of our work area. Then we will sit down and discuss the inner workings of the DLO in general and our task force in particular. After that, we would like you to join us for lunch at the Mailbox Grille, and then we'll take a tour of the rest of the Denver Main Branch where I'll introduce you to the other department heads."

"Well, that sounds just delightful. Do you mind if I take notes?" She pulled out an iPad and lifted her brows in question. Samantha Morris was another techie. Shane couldn't help her smile at Oliver's reluctant nod.

Samantha grinned. "Let's get started."

##

For the next few hours, Samantha and Oliver sat together either behind his desk or around one of the credenzas in deep discussions of department policy and the overall mission and vision of restoring dead letters to their intended destinations. Shane tried to focus on her emails, hacking protocols, and the stack of misdirects to confirm, but every time Samantha's tinkling laugh bubbled up from across the room her attention took a sharp nosedive.

Oliver wasn't that funny, was he? Shane's lips twitched in a fond smile as she considered the question. Yes, he actually was. And even more funny as one came to grasp his odd sense of humor. It had taken Shane weeks to appreciate that the ironic lilt in his voice and the quick wrinkle of his cheeks meant he was making a joke. But here was Samantha barely two days after meeting him and already not only getting his humor but playing into it with her own.

Shane studied the lines of his familiar features and savored the changes that could not be seen. He had grown and softened so much over the past two years as he healed from the agony of his mother's and Holly's leaving. And even though he had always been a gentleman, his goodness, his kindness, even his very heart were now easily displayed.

As if feeling her quiet gaze, his eyes met hers. Her smile widened with memory of their weekend at home. They had split a pizza and curled up on the couch as Oliver read from Paradise Lost. Then gone to church and joined the couples who sat in the pews near them for lunch and a movie after the service. And of course, both mornings had been greeted with a long, lazy time of togetherness. Heat rushed up the back of her neck as she felt her gaze warm.

Oliver's eyes glowed, his own memories joining with hers. Then he caught Samantha's intrigued look. He sniffed and straightened in his seat, and when he returned his gaze to Shane the air between them had cooled.

Shane's brow wrinkled. What was that? It wasn't as if this was the first time they'd flirted at work—nor even the first time they'd been caught at it. She shifted her gaze to Samantha who was once again smiling up at Oliver. A teasing tone laced her comments about Oliver's Divine Delivery Theory as an unrepentant grin wreathed her elfin features.

Oliver's lips parted and he tugged at his shirt sleeves, a sure sign he was disconcerted, but welcoming of her praise.

Wait. Was Samantha flirting with Oliver? Right in front of her? And was he actually enjoying her attention? Shane's gaze dropped to her engagement and wedding ring. The oddest sensation of doubt flickered in her heart.

But that was ridiculous.

Oliver loved her. Had married her. And vowed he would be with her forever.

Again, the sensation flickered. But this time a question niggled at her. Had he said he'd be with her forever? Really?

Shane took in a quick breath. Of course, he had. Maybe not in so many words, but he'd agreed to engrave her timepiece pendant with 'forever' after she'd offered that as her commitment to him. And even his vows had affirmed he would go where she went and stay where she stayed. That meant something, right?

No. That meant everything.

She shook her head. She was just being overly-sensitive. Oliver was simply making sure the newest member of the task force felt welcome and accepted. Satisfied with her conclusions, she fully pushed away the odd sensation and turned her attention back to the database search for the antique coin.

##

Later that night, warmed scents of tomatoes, basil, garlic, and oregano saturated the kitchen in the O'Toole family home. Shane took in a deep breath as she watched Oliver, apron tied over his suit pants and dress shirt, standing behind the gas stove stirring his version of Mom's marinara for their dinner. Given his love of chemistry and experimenting, he was an excellent home chef, and Shane loved the nights when he cooked and she only had to clean.

She pulled glasses and silverware from the one of the kitchen cabinets. "How was it working with Samantha today?"

"Oh, it was fine. She does possess a good understanding of the mission and vision of the DLO as well as the protocols." Oliver scooped a bit of marinara on a tasting spoon then blew across the steamy sauce before testing it. He nodded and reached for the jar of dried basil adding another dash then glanced over his shoulder to her. "I plan for her to spend tomorrow with you learning your preferred hacking whatevers and other technical aspects you use in your part of the task force."

Shane turned and leaned against the counter. "Sounds good."

Oliver paused his stirring and glanced at her again. His gaze landed near her eyes, but flicked away.

Shane's brow furrowed. Something was up.

He stirred for a moment more as the silence between them grew heavy. Finally, he cleared his throat and asked, "What would you like me to add to the marinara this evening? I had thought clams, but perhaps you have something else in mind?"

Clams? Shane's stomach turned over. Sensation pricked the back of her neck. They had been together all day. What had happened that would create a need for his favorite comfort food? "Ah … whatever you want … is … fine." Confusion wove through her words, but she waited for him to voice whatever was bothering him.

Oliver's gaze met hers and a flicker of something passed over his eyes, disappearing before she could name it. A chill rippled over her. This was serious. "Oliver … are …" She fell silent and watched the emotion flicker again in his eyes. "Are you … okay?"

He took in a deep sniff and laid the wooden spoon on the counter. Shane's eyebrows shot up as sauce dripped onto the pristine granite. No, he was definitely not okay.

Oliver turned to face her and tucked his hands behind his back. "I … ah … needed to speak with you about something, but it is likely a more appropriate topic for the workplace."

That chill again skirted across Shane's neck, this time leaving goose bumps in its wake.

Oliver's gaze roamed the kitchen as if the words he needed were painted somewhere on the stained cherry cabinets. "Becky did make Ms. Morris aware of our personal relationship. But after Ms. Morris caught our unprofessional behavior earlier, she made several pointed remarks about it."

Really? That's what this is about? "You mean … she was teasing you for flirting … with your wife." An edge of disbelief crept into Shane's tones. She crossed her arms over her stomach and fixed him with a pointed look.

Oliver's ears pinked as his lips parted. "Ah, yes."

Shane shook her head unable to fully comprehend his simple answer. "And that's suddenly a problem … why?"

Oliver rose on his toes as his voice assumed a patronizing authority. "I have allowed a very liberal degree of familiarity between us at work over the past year. Rita and Norman of course being very much aware of the progress of our relationship, and it being something of an open secret amongst the rest of the Denver Main Branch employees prior to our nuptials, it did not seem inappropriate."

He paused and flicked a glance toward her as uncertainty suddenly wrinkled his cheeks. "But Ms. Morris's questioning and, yes, teasing has made me rethink how we should conduct ourselves while we're at work. Especially in light of the conversations that occurred at today's inter-department meeting."

Shane's eyes narrowed as she tried to grasp what really concerned him. "And those were?"

"I am afraid our behavior has become fodder for discussions which my gentlemanly sensibilities cannot tolerate." Oliver licked his lips then grimaced. "How we have become … somewhat predictably … late … for our duties over the past four months and the likely reason for our tardiness."

Shane replayed his statement trying decipher the cryptic words. Her mouth dropped open as the translation suddenly came together. "They're gossiping about our sex life, and you're embarrassed."

Oliver's head bobbed in a single, uncomfortable nod.

She smothered her smile as her shoulders eased. She had assured him early on in their marriage that tardiness was expected from newlyweds, and it amused her to no end that she'd been right. Mirth wove its way between her words. "Oliver, I'm sure the other department heads were just giving you a hard time in front of a new colleague—especially since you once got a perfect score on your performance evaluation." She took a step toward him, intent on untying his tie and kissing the adorable cleft in his chin. "And besides, everyone is incredibly happy for us. You know that."

"Ah, yes, but ..." Oliver turned away from her and stirred the sauce again.

Shane stopped mid-step, absorbing his attempt to put distance between them. She smashed her lips together, emotions jumbling in an unnerving whirl of amusement and wary concern. Where was he going with this?

He cleared his throat, set the spoon down-this time on the spoon rest-and took in a fortifying breath. "But … I believe it is best if we confine all demonstrations of affection to our home life."

Shane blinked. "I'm sorry, what?" Did he really say what she thought he just said?

Oliver tucked his hands behind his back as his eyebrows lifted. "I cannot countenance our relationship being a topic of discussion in the workplace."

She shook her head, desperate to find purchase in this mindboggling conversation. "It's gossip, Oliver. They don't mean anything by it. Give it a few weeks and something else will happen to distract them."

Oliver rose on his toes as lofty correction saturation his words. "It has been four months, Ms.—Shane."

Her eyebrows shot up at the slip.

Oliver had the decency to cringe, but still he soldiered on with his explanation. "I feel it is now necessary to keep our professional and personal lives more demarcated ... to foster an effective and efficient workplace." His lips lifted as if pleased with his assessment of the situation.

Shane closed her eyes and counted to ten. "So no touching then."

Oliver watched her, wariness glinting his gaze, as he nodded once.

She took in a long slow breath, willing patience and empathy into her words. Unfortunately, all that came out was irritation. "And what about what happened today? Do I have to watch how I even look at you?"

Oliver sniffed. "Yes, I believe that would be best."

Shane's eyes widened in disbelief. Who was this man, and what had he done with her husband?

Oliver rose on his toes as even more professional distance laced his words. "And I would like for us to be more cognizant of maintaining a timely arrival for our work commitments."

Shane shook her head, her inner Oliver translator nearly imploding as she tried to understand the latest words in this baffling conversation. "So … what? Are you saying we now need to keep our morning lovemaking under a certain amount of time?" The words flew off her lips with a bite she hadn't heard since their disastrous dinner at Montaldo's.

Again, he dipped his head in a single, confirming nod.

Shane gripped her stomach tighter as his words all whirled together into an eddy of confusion, hurt, and resignation. A decided edge cut her final question. "Did you … perhaps … have a number in mind?"

Oliver gestured helplessly, his eyes meeting hers for a second then jerking away. "Perhaps fifteen minutes?"

To give him credit, he barely squeaked out the suggestion, but Shane was beyond caring. She pulled open the pantry door and grabbed a glass jar. It landed on the granite counter with a definite and speaking clack. "You know what? Use the clams. I think we both need them tonight." Without another word, she turned on her heel and headed off to change out of her work clothes and somehow make sense of everything Oliver just said.