Picture Perfect (Butler Island) (15 page)

Placing one of his hands on her knee,
his thumb began caressing her skin, tracing imaginary circles along her knee
cap. “Are you still sore?” he asked in a concerned tone.

“Why, are you ready for round two?”

“Baby, I was ready for round two five
minutes after the first round ended. But I was pretty sure you weren’t up for
that.”

“I was a little—sore—but it’s getting
better…” Olivia took a deep breath and sighed. She didn’t want to hurt him, but
she needed for him to understand her terms.

“Look, Grant, I know this is going to
come out sounding like a cliché, but it’s not you—
it’s me.
” She observed
as he scratched the light stubble along his jaw, noticing how tightly it was
clenched. “The sex was great—
amazing.
The emotional part is…”

“Scary, I get it. Look”, he said as
he lifted her chin with his fingertips, “I like you and I really like spending
time with you.”

“Me, too”, she whispered.

“Okay, now that we have that settled…
I have an idea.” Settling his body next to her on the narrow lawn chair, he
cupped the back of her neck, running the pad of his thumb back and forth along
her cheek.

“I’m listening…”

“From now on,
you
set the pace
you’re comfortable with. We can take this thing between us as fast or as slow
as you want—just don’t shut me out anymore. Okay with you?”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” Olivia
turned her body away from him, nestling her backside against the front of his
body so that she faced the crackling fire. She thought about his offer. She’d
never met anyone like him; what man would willingly want to be a part of this
arrangement? She’d basically told him that their mind-blowing sexual encounter wasn’t
likely to happen again any time in the near future. And instead of abandoning
her,
he stayed.

Olivia bit back a moan as Grant ran
his fingers through her hair. Resisting Grant was going to be harder than she
first thought.

“Grant?”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with
a PG-13-type relationship?”

“If that’s what you want, then, yes.
I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”

With his hands still gently combing
through her hair, she was beginning to wonder: Could
she
handle a
PG-13-type relationship with this incredibly appealing man?

 Was that what she really wanted?

CHAPTER 11

“Hello?”

“Well, well, well—I was beginning to
wonder if you were avoiding me. Missed you at the track on Saturday.”

“Ah, yeah, um—sorry about that. I had
to work.”

“I understand. You have to make
money, right? Money to pay your rent, put food on the table.
Pay your
bills…”

“Yeah, exactly.” He heard a low, evil
laugh erupt from the other end of the line, the eerie sound assuring him that
his excuse wasn’t amusing.

“I can relate. You see, I have to
provide for my family as well. And that’s hard to do when I’m not paid on
time.”

“I’m real sorry about that—I can have
your money by this weekend.”

There was a long pause before his
bookie spoke again. “Let me ask you a question, son. Do you think I’m a
reasonable man?”

“Yes. Yes I do”, he nervously
replied.

“Well, you’re partly right. Usually
I’m pretty easy-going—
except when it comes to little fuck-up’s like you!”

“Again, I’m real sorry. I’m gonna get
some overtime this week and I get paid on Friday. I can have my payment plus
ten percent”, he offered.

“Make that twenty percent and not a
penny less. Trust me, son, you don’t want to fuck around with me. Bad things
happen to good people when I’m not paid on time. Consider this your only
warning; next time you won’t receive a courtesy call…”

Grant hurried to the door and opened
it.

“Miss me much?” Olivia asked with a
dainty smile.

Reaching for her, he tugged her
inside and slammed the door behind her. Unable to curb his appetite for the
beautiful creature standing before him, he covered her mouth with his,
devouring her with hungry kisses. Finally coming up for air, he pressed his
forehead against hers and smiled. “A little.”

“A little, huh? Well, I’d hate to see
what would happen if you missed me a lot.” Dexter sprung into action, doing his
best to squeeze between them, his rapidly swaying tail slapping against her
thigh with a loud, rhythmic thud. “I think somebody’s jealous”, she whispered.

“Looks like it.”

Pulling away from Grant’s strong,
masculine
arms, Olivia knelt down and began
scratching the K-
9’s milk chocolate coat below his ears. “Did you miss
me, too, boy? Huh…? Give me some sugar.”

Eager to please, Dexter repeatedly
lapped his tongue along her cheek and then abruptly stopped when Grant gave him
the command to lie down.

“I hope you’re hungry”, he said as he
led her into the kitchen.

“I’m starvin’!”

After dinner, they settled on the
back patio, sharing a lounge chair and a blanket, listening to the steady pulse
of waves washing ashore.

“It’s so gorgeous out here
tonight—not a cloud in the sky…”

“Oh yeah?” Grant briefly turned his
attention away from her and looked above them. Thousands of stars glimmered
against the ebony sky, a sight he’d gladly absorb if not for the rare beauty
lying beside him.

 Pinning her with his gaze again, he
whispered, “I guess I hadn’t noticed.”

“I think someone’s losing their
perceptiveness.”

Snuggling closer, he cupped the back
of her
neck. “Trust me—I’m well aware of my
surroundings.”

“Really?” she countered.

“Uh-huh. Like the way you bite your
bottom lip when your thinking about something important, or the way your eyes
turn a deeper shade of green when you’re aroused. The way your lips feel when I
kiss you—like a soft, satin pillow.”

 Closing the distance between them,
he briefly pressed his lips against hers before spreading soft, sensual kisses
along her jaw. “And that little sigh you release when I kiss you right here,
below your ear.”

The predictable sigh escaped her lips
as his mouth kissed, licked and nibbled on her neck. It’d been almost two weeks
since they’d agreed she would set the pace of their relationship. She was
insistent on keeping their aura lighthearted and fun—
adamant about her
clothes staying on
—but every time his lips touched her body, she longed to
give in. Her body grieved, recalling the memory of him inside her, craving the
sensual connection they’d shared in her darkroom.

Stay strong. You’re not ready for the
mound of emotions that would assault you afterward.

No—not even close.

She didn’t want to deprive herself of
the impassioned release he stimulated, but she also didn’t want to hurt him.
They’d have another earth-shattering sexual encounter, yes, but she knew
herself. When they were through, she’d only push him away and she didn’t want
that.

She had to remain in control.

His hands maneuvered over her body,
his fingers aching to get under her clothes.

Damn, he wanted her.

Wanted to spend the rest of the night
exploring every inch of her beautiful body with his eyes, his hands,
his
mouth.
With every passing minute it became exponentially more difficult to
resist her.

God, how he wished things were
different. He’d gladly give his right arm if he thought it would chase her fear
and insecurities away. Since that clearly wasn’t an option, he’d have to settle
for patience. Because with time, he knew she’d begin to trust him. And when she
did…

His senses were
on alert: he heard the crescendo
of her breaths; recognized the
desire behind her hooded eyes; inhaled the intoxicating vanilla scent on her
body; relished the sensation of his lips grazing against her silk-like skin.
And
her taste…

“God, your skin tastes so good”, he
mumbled as he swept open-mouth kisses along the base of her throat. “It makes
me wonder…”

Closing her eyes, she suppressed a
fleeing whimper. “About…?”

Voice dripping with arousal, he
replied, “If you taste this delicious everywhere.”

Oh. My. God.

Before she could respond—
before
she could weigh the pros and cons of exploring third base
—their on-call
phones rang.

Their bodies froze.

“Déjà vu”, she uttered.

“Damn it… yeah”, he said as he
reluctantly stood up and offered his hand. “C’mon, you can ride with me.”

Olivia allowed him to assist her to
her feet and then shook her head. “That’s probably not such a good idea. Having
to explain how we ended up together tonight is not something I feel like
gettin’ into. And you know how everyone in this town is—we show up together and
the next thing you know, we’re
dating.
”

Clearly amused,
he smiled. “Well, we are; aren’t we?”

“Maybe… but no one needs to know
that—
especially Ty.”

“Good point”, he agreed.

Billows of smoke erupted from the
rooftop of the small theater, obscuring the dark, naked sky; liberating itself
from the blaze below. Flames licked at the roof and front entry, the heat so
intense, Olivia feared she’d singe her eyebrows if she stood closer.

Upon arrival, Ty and Randall had
already fastened the hose to the nearby fire hydrant. Water spewed from the
opening, drenching the apex of the abandoned brick building with a liquid
antidote. Chief Handler was busy calling out orders for Grant, Jimmy, Mark, and
Jarrod to carefully access the building from the rear, where there didn’t
appear to be any visible flames at the moment.

The theater had closed its doors over
the summer. The owner of the one room auditorium was no longer capable of
sustaining profits with the economy in shambles. The islanders’ needed to spend
their extra cash on groceries for their families; fuel to transport them to and
from work—not on a second-run movie, a large popcorn, and a thirty-two ounce
Coca Cola.

Most likely the building was empty,
but Chief wanted them to make a quick sweep of the interior to ensure there
weren’t any potential victims inside.

 “I want you in and out in a jiffy,
you hear?” he instructed.

Unable to be heard through their
masks and
breathing apparatuses, the four
brave firemen
nodded and then turned to enter through the rear door.

The risks firemen took never ceased
to amaze her. It took a special breed of man to willingly step into a raging
incinerator, venturing into a structure that rivaled a hot, flaming hell for
the sole purpose of saving lives.

Crouching low, Grant and the other
three men quickly meandered through the auditorium. They’d already searched
backstage and a small portion of the theater when Grant gave the signal to
retreat. The lobby was completely engulfed and the searing flames had already
begun devouring much of the seats in front of them.

Over the roar of the flames, he heard
a sound that would terrify the bravest of firemen. It began as a subtle creak
and then transformed into a loud, angry moan.

“Womack, get outta there!” he heard
Chief Handler yell over the radio.

Leaping onto the stage, Grant shouted
through his mask at the three men beside him. “Roof’s about to collapse! Get
the hell out!” Pushing the men in front of him, he followed behind.

Olivia waited toward the rear
entrance, making sure to keep a safe distance. She’d already captured hundreds
of pictures since her arrival and once she’d heard the Chief give the order for
Grant and the other men to exit the building, she’d placed her camera on the
tripod and activated the time-lapse feature. No way could she keep a steady
hand or concentrate when four people she cared about were surging toward
safety.

FLASH.

The thundering sound of the weakened
roof collapsing near the front of the building enveloped her in a paralyzing
panic. In her peripheral vision, she could see the flash of her camera flicker
in five second intervals, but somehow time seemed to proceed in slow motion.

FLASH.

She could see the look of uncertainty
in Chief Handler’s expression as he shouted into his radio for them to run, but
the sound was muffled by her labored breaths and raging pulse.