Last Call (33 page)

The pictures he painted with his words lit
her up like a torch. She threw her head back onto his shoulder,
arched her back, and pressed her breast into his hand. It felt as
if all her nerve endings were exposed, and she couldn’t wait
another minute to have him inside her.

She crawled out of the cradle of his body and
onto her knees. “I need you inside me. Now. Hard and fast.”

Gavin’s voice was a gravelly croak when he
said, “Condom,” and crawled out of the tub. Soap bubbles slid off
his shoulders and elbows and landed on the floor in thick globs. He
grabbed a towel, but she wasn’t sure why he bothered, since he
didn’t use it to dry off, only halfway wrapped it around his
waist.

His broad shoulders and back glistened with
water droplets, and the thought of slowly licking them off his
skin, drop by drop, propelled her into motion. Water sluiced off
her body and sloshed over the edges of the tub. Bubbles dripped off
her, joining the ones that had fallen from Gavin. Out of habit, she
grabbed a towel, but it made even less contact with her body than
Gavin’s had.

She squealed and grabbed the doorframe to
catch her balance as she slipped on a puddle of water. With her
next step, her foot caught purchase on the bedroom carpet. Then she
was practically running across the room toward him.

Already sheathed with the condom, he met her
halfway. Either as desperate as she was or understanding her
intense need, he picked her up, then backed her toward the closed
bedroom door.

By the time he’d taken the first step, she
had her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck.
The next step had her back against the door and him ramming into
her in a fast, solid stroke.

“Oh, God. Yes.” This was exactly what she
needed. Hard, fast, animalistic.

His tongue plundered her mouth in a rapacious
kiss as he drove into her in a relentless, pounding pace. She
gripped his shoulders and dug her heels into the backs of his
legs.

In a matter of moments, the fireworks lit off
in her stomach, then spread like wildfire throughout her body. She
screamed his name, bit his shoulder, and rode out the storm.

“God…” Gavin threw his head back and rammed
into her so hard her teeth rattled. “…Damn.” He continued to pump
into her, mumbling and cursing incoherently as his storm raged on,
then peaked.

Once it passed, he dropped his forehead to
hers and, in a breathless burst, said, “I think I love you.”

Overwhelmed by her own emotions, his
declaration was more than she could handle. She didn’t know whether
to laugh or cry, so she wrapped her arms around his neck, buried
her face in his chest, and did both.

Gavin kicked the sheet off his feet and
enjoyed the cool rush of air spreading across his heated skin. He
had one arm wrapped around Sunny, the other flung over his head.
They’d made love three times in the past hour, and it still wasn’t
enough.

He wondered if it would always be like this
or if the constant, pulsating need would eventually cool. He could
see it now: the middle of the day, the pier packed with people, and
him sneaking across the yard for an afternoon quickie.

Maybe he could convince Sunny to marry him.
Then there wouldn’t be a need for anyone to sneak anywhere.

A funny smell invaded his thoughts and had
his nose twitching. It smelled like the Georgetown paper mill, but
he couldn’t imagine the odor from that plant carried this far
north. As the odor continued to grow stronger, he jiggled his arm
to get Sunny’s attention. “Hey, you awake?”

“Mmmm… hmmm…”

“Is there a paper mill in Wilmington?” Damn,
the stink was getting stronger by the minute. It smelled like
rotten—

“Fuck!” He jerked upright in the bed,
snatching Sunny with him.

“What’s wrong?” Her eyes were wild as she
looked around, trying to figure out what caused his panic. “What’s
the…” She sniffed and her eyes grew even wider.

“Gas,” they yelled at the same time.

Gavin didn’t know where the leak was coming
from, but the odor was so strong it had to be somewhere in the
building. The slightest spark would send the entire building up in
an explosion, taking them with it.

He rolled out of bed on one side, while Sunny
fell out on the other. He jammed his legs into his pants and
grabbed a shirt to take with him, and Sunny did the same. They ran
barefoot down the hall, pulling on their shirts as they went.

Sunny jerked to a stop and yelled, “Robby!”
She turned to head back toward his room, but Gavin grabbed her
hand.

“He’s gone,” he said, dragging her behind him
as he plowed through the kitchen.

He yanked the kitchen door open, and they hit
the steps running. He put his hand to the waistband of his pants
and said a prayer of thanks when he found his cellphone still
attached.

“Sunny!” Robby’s panicked voice drifted up to
them from around the building. As they hit the bottom step, Robby
rounded the corner. When he saw Sunny and Gavin, his breath left in
a burst. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“Run to the far side of the parking lot and
get behind Sunny’s car,” Gavin said while dialing 9-1-1. Neither he
nor Sunny had shoes, so picking their way across the gravel
driveway was slow going, even with the threat of an explosion
propelling them along.

As Gavin gave their address and the reason
for the call to the emergency operator, he heard Robby say to
Sunny, “I saw that truck. It was going across the bridge to the
mainland as I was coming back this way. I tried to call and warn
you, but my phone battery was dead.” Tears sprang to his eyes, and
he turned away. As if his legs wouldn’t hold him anymore, he sank
to the ground next to his truck.

“Jesus, Sunny…” Robby rested his elbows on
his knees and dropped his head into his hands. “I thought you were
dead.” He grabbed the ends of his hair between his fingers and
pulled. “I thought you were both dead."

It seemed to take every ounce of control he
had to keep from falling to pieces in front of them, so Gavin
walked away to give him some privacy. Gavin also needed a little
space to glue his shit back together.

He’d never been as scared as when he realized
the rotten egg smell wasn’t a paper mill. He could never forgive
himself if something happened to Sunny. Of course, he would’ve been
dead, too, which would have totally sucked ass. But if something
happened to her, he would've spent all eternity exacting revenge on
Max.

Gavin heard the sirens of the fire trucks at
the same time the first wave of volunteer firefighters arrived.
Within moments, the parking lot and street were filled with men and
equipment, and the source of the leak was shut off.

“What the hell, Sunny?” the fire chief asked
as he approached, his face a mask of fury. “Someone tried to blow
you up. Literally.”

“Yeah, Gary,” Sunny said, running a hand over
her forehead. “We figured that out.”

“What was the incendiary device and why
didn’t it work?” Gavin asked, wanting… no,
needing
answers.
Since the building was a crime scene, the fire chief wouldn’t let
them in until the sheriff’s crime scene unit processed
everything.

“A match stuck through a lit cigarette placed
close to the open gas line.” He shook his head like he couldn’t
believe it. “It looks like a leaky sink saved your ass. There’s two
drops of water on the cigarette, just enough to keep it from
burning down to the match and triggering the explosion.”

Hearing the details sent a ball of fury
ripping through Gavin. Trembling with the force of his anger, he
stepped away from the noise and confusion, grabbed his phone, and
dialed Max’s number. The ringing stopped on the fourth ring, but
Max didn’t speak.

“What’s the matter, Max? Afraid a ghost is
calling you?”

Max took a deep breath, then said, “After
what you and my daughter did, I didn’t expect to hear from you
again.”

Gavin gripped the phone so hard the case
cracked. “Really? Is that why you didn’t think you’d hear from me?
Or was it because you sent someone to kill me and I should be dead
by now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Max’s voice was like cold steel edged with fear.

As fucked up as it was, Gavin found himself
almost
feeling sorry for Max. It was entirely possible that
after this all shook out, Max would lose everything he worked for
his entire life. And, in the process, end up in prison a broken,
lonely man.

“Miguel Ortego. Does the name ring a bell?”
He probably shouldn’t warn Max, but he couldn’t stop himself. “And
before you lie to me… I have proof you called him last night. I
know his job qualifications, and there’s a witness who can place
him in Anticue tonight.” A slight exaggeration, but Gavin was
confident the authorities would find enough evidence to tie Max to
this attempted arson. Shit, attempted murder. “I thought you might
want to warn Cynthia and Callie, so they aren’t caught off-guard
when the police show up and haul your ass off to jail, you
motherfucking, cocksucking son of a bitch.”

He disconnected the call and turned to find
Sunny behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, rested her
cheek on his chest, and melted into him. “I’m so sorry. This is a
million times worse than what Ed did, and that wasn’t even personal
against me. I can’t imagine how much this must hurt.”

Apparently she’d come to the same conclusion
as him. While Max wouldn’t mind getting rid of Sunny, his focus had
switched from her to Gavin. With Gavin dead, the sale of the
fishing pier would be dead, too. Callie would be stuck at home, and
Max would have a clear road to proceed with his plans. At this
point, Sunny and Robby would be collateral damage.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her
as close as possible. “I could care less about being betrayed.”
That wasn’t exactly true. It did hurt that Max actually tried to
kill him, but his biggest concern was Sunny. “Thank God you’re
okay.”

A shudder wracked his body, and his knees
nearly buckled. “I’m calling my friend Marty and having him put
twenty-four hour surveillance on you. I don’t think there'll be any
more incidents, but I’m not taking any chances.”

Speaking of taking chances… He needed to call
Callie and warn her. He couldn’t imagine Max doing anything to harm
a hair on her head, but he never would've believed Max capable of
something like this, either. He couldn’t take the chance of leaving
Callie in the dark and unprotected.

Sunny nodded to the street and eased away
from him. “I’m going to talk to the arson investigator. I’ll be
over there if you need me.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back to
him for a kiss. “What I said earlier…” He drew in a shaky breath
and continued. “I do love you, Sunny. There’s no maybes or I thinks
about it… I love you.”

She pressed her palm to his cheek and
searched his face. With tears glistening in her eyes, she smiled
and said, “I’m glad I’m not alone in this love thing. That was a
scary place to be for a while.”

She looked to the dark pier and her smile
grew. “I’m really going to like having you for a neighbor.”

“Me too.” He kissed the top of her head and
grinned. “How do you feel about afternoon quickies?”

Gavin found it hard to believe the remnants
of his entire career could be reduced to a shoebox, but as he
placed the photo of his grandfather and the paperweight Callie had
given him for Christmas into the box, he was forced to accept the
depressing truth of his previous existence. With a deep breath, he
took one last look around the office to make sure he hadn’t missed
anything. Nope, sad as it was, he had it all.

He tucked the box under his arm and turned
toward the door, only to be stopped short by Callie, leaning
against the doorjamb, tears spilling from her eyes, her bottom lip
quivering.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving,” she
said. She sucked in a ragged breath and wiped her eyes. “I feel
like I’m living in a horrible nightmare and I just can’t wake
up.”

He leaned onto the corner of his desk and
smiled. “You’ve had three months to get used to the idea of my
leaving. Don’t tell me you thought I’d change my mind.”

She shrugged a shoulder and pushed off the
doorframe. “No, I knew you wouldn’t. But that didn’t keep me from
living in denial about the whole thing.” She stopped a few feet in
front of him and bit her lip, probably in an effort to stop the
quivering.

The pain and embarrassment she suffered over
the past several months had been tremendous, and Gavin couldn’t be
prouder of the way she handled herself. She surprised him by
demonstrating a strength and determination he never would have
believed possible.

Having Max's picture—taken while wearing an
ugly orange jumpsuit with a matching set of bracelets—plastered on
the front page of all the major newspapers had only been the first
layer of Callie’s humiliation.

As the Holden name gathered more and more
layers of shit, she had to face friends and enemies alike, all who
now knew her as the daughter of a criminal. The rumors abounded for
years, but now there was evidence to support those rumors, and
almost everyone in her social circle turned on Callie.

Jen and Tiffany, however, hadn’t blamed
Callie for the sins of her father, and Gavin was pleasantly
surprised by their loyalty. They stood by Callie through it all,
usually with a pitcher of margaritas in hand, but that's okay. They
were there, and that's all that mattered.

“What am I going to do without you here?”
Callie sobbed, losing the battle with her tears. “You’ve always
been here for me, and now I’m going to be all alone.”

Gavin reached out and pulled her into a hug.
“I will
always
be here for you, Callie. Geography doesn’t
change that. I’ve been living in Anticue for the past month and
still managed to talk to you just about every day, didn't I?”