by LuAnn McLane
Belinda shrugged. “I guess we go out in public and, you know, get cozy and kissy face and stuff.”
“I get that, but we don’t have a lot of paparazzi in Sea Breeze.”
“Well, we can post on social media to draw them here. Or do some traveling. Maybe Miami or Key West? Disney World? I love Disney World! Someplace higher profile?” She took another sip of her drink. “I don’t think it will take much to get some buzz going. And then we can throw in teases about our music. Come on, you remember the drill.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Oliver nodded slowly, still trying to warm up to the idea. Not that he would have any trouble warming up to her. Should he confess he’d had a huge, very real crush on her? No . . . no he shouldn’t.
“Look, I know what you’re thinking.”
Oh no she didn’t. He struggled to keep his face impassive as she leaned forward, revealing a hint of sexy cleavage. “Go on.”
“I wish this could be all about the music. But it isn’t. It’s about show business. A bunch of bull crap, but it comes with the territory.” She plucked a piece of bacon off the sandwich and nibbled on it.
“Mmmm, yeah.” Oliver took another sip of the cold whiskey that heated his blood. Or maybe it was looking at Belinda that had him heating up. Damn, he’d better rein himself in. Trouble was, he didn’t really want to.
“Hey, do you want the other half of this sandwich?” she asked casually while his thoughts continued to spiral in the I-want-to-kiss-her direction. “It’s really awesome, but I can’t possibly eat it all.”
“Uh . . .” Oliver would have answered, but he was rather fascinated by watching her take a big sideways bite.
After chewing, she licked a dab of mayo from the corner of her mouth. “Wow, this is good bread.”
“Seven grain,” Oliver said absently, then took a bigger sip of his whiskey. “From a bakery in town.”
“Thelma’s Sweet Treats on Main Street?”
“Yeah, it’s been there forever.”
“I passed it and nearly stopped. ‘I Brake for Bakeries’ should be on a bumper sticker on my car.”
Oliver laughed.
“Well?” Belinda prompted.
“What?”
“Do you want my other half?” Belinda pointed to the plate resting on her lap. “The extra bacon was supreme, by the way.”
“Um . . .” Oliver knew he should refuse and get back up to the main house. Spending more time with her, especially while drinking whiskey, was just asking for trouble. He should just put the other half in the fridge and be on his way. He wasn’t an asking-for-trouble kind of guy. Jesse was that brother.
Belinda tilted her head. “Does it always take you this long to make up your mind?”
“I get asked that a lot,” Oliver admitted, but kept the real reason for his hesitation to himself.
“Then the answer is yes. So, are you hungry?” she prompted.
“I could eat.”
“Do you ever answer a question directly?”
Oliver grinned. “I like to keep people guessing.”
“I do believe that translates to you like to drive people crazy.” She took a swig of her spiked tea and leaned back against the cushions.
“Do I drive you crazy?” Oliver asked, and then immediately wished he had held his tongue.
“That remains to be seen, pretend beau of mine.”
“True.” Oliver glanced down at his glass, wiggled the ice before sitting down in a chair near the sofa. He was dipping his toe into dangerous waters, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was usually more careful. “But I’m betting on, yes, I will.”
“Drive me crazy?”
“Yeah,” he answered slowly.
“Oh-kay.” Belinda’s eyes widened a fraction and he almost laughed when she seemed to be speechless, something he didn’t think happened all that often. Even when she was in her teens, she usually had a sassy comeback. She leaned forward and put her glass on the coffee table. He wasn’t sure if they were flirting or bantering or a little bit of both. She rubbed her lips together and then inhaled a deep breath. “So, you’re a betting man, are you?” she finally asked.
“Only on a sure thing,” Oliver replied, with immediate regret. Oh damn, another face-palm moment. He was shooting for funny, but he didn’t want her to think he was an ass by suggesting she was a sure thing. He cleared his throat. “Not that I think, you know . . .” he began, but then faltered and gave her a weak chuckle.
“That I’m a sure thing?” She raised her eyebrows.
“That may not have come out right. I wasn’t trying to insinuate . . . damn, how in the hell did we get on this subject?”
“Oh relax. I know.”
“Are you . . . flirting?”
Belinda tipped her head back and laughed, a throaty sound that he thoroughly enjoyed. She looked over at him. “Well, what if I was . . . flirting? After all, we do need to practice.” She fluttered her lashes and laughed again.
Practice? Not sure how to answer, Oliver remained silent. “I’m not sure I follow,” he said after a beat.
“I’m talking about kissing.”
God . . . maybe drinking whiskey in the middle of the afternoon wasn’t such a great idea.
“What if you pushed me up against the wall and attempted to kiss me senseless?” she asked, and he guessed the alcohol was going to her head as well.
“This is where I’m supposed to stop you, right?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted the go-ahead or a red light. Well no, that wasn’t true . . . he definitely wanted the green light, but caution smacked him upside the head.
Belinda shrugged. “It’s just a question, Oliver. Don’t look so distraught.”
“I . . . I think you might give me a knee to the balls.”
“Wanna find out?” She tilted her head and waited.
“Are you serious? Risk a knee to the balls?”
Belinda laughed again. “Okay, maybe we really should practice our little . . . charade.” She reached for her tea and took a swig. After licking her lips, she gave him a steady stare. “Are you up for it?”
Oliver searched her face, her eyes for clues. Was she kidding? Baiting him? Testing him? Just having fun with him? Of course, this was when the whole having-trouble-making-a-decision thing reared its ugly head, so he remained silent.
“Want me to hobble over there and wait?” She pointed to the wall.
“Uh . . .”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.”
CHAPTER FOUR
RUN TO ME
“Well?” Belinda had no idea what she was doing or why. Maybe fatigue and Jack Daniel’s wasn’t such a good combination after all. Then again, perhaps a long, steamy kiss was just what the doctor ordered. God knows, it had been a long time since her last amazing kiss. They’d kissed a little when they were kids, but they were adults now. In the big league.
Being in a crisis put a dent in her romantic life. She knew she needed to keep her emotional distance, but . . . why not have a little fun?
Fun? Now that was a word she hadn’t thought of lately.
“Again, this is definitely where I was told to stop you, not to run over there and kiss you.” He fidgeted in his seat and appeared torn. “Remember?”
“Do you always do as you’re told?”
“Most of the time.”
“So, not all of the time.” With a shrug, Belinda pushed up to her feet. She hobbled over to the wall and stood there, tossing him a look of challenge. Again, why she was doing this was beyond her brain’s ability to reason right at the moment. It could be that she wanted to be reckless and forget about her failed career and her parents’ financial crisis that she created.
Hold on . . . a sexy kiss could lead to hot sex, but she wanted to avoid that, right? No, she just wanted a damned kiss! But he just sat there making her fee
l foolish, again. Well, to hell with that nonsense. “We’re going to have to kiss at some point to show the world how much we love each other, so let’s just break the ice.” She motioned with her hands. “Come on, run to me and not out the door.”
“But you said . . . and we said . . . I said . . .”
“Just stop. I changed my mind. I do that a lot.”
“You just got here. Belinda . . .” Oliver protested, and she suddenly felt really fucking foolish. To her horror, she felt heat creep into her cheeks and wished for a trapdoor to open and swallow her up. She wanted to land back in Tennessee, a kid, and start all over again.
Well, hell. Belinda glanced down at the tile floor . . . nope, no trapdoor. Damn. She should just tell him she was tired and a little tipsy and . . .
Suddenly Oliver was there in front of her. He tilted her chin up and then took both of her hands and placed them above her head, pressing her against the wall. He stood so close that she could feel the heat of his body, smell the hint of whiskey on his breath. And she wanted that kiss more than she wanted to breathe.
“Oliver . . .” she said in a husky voice that trembled around the edges. “I shouldn’t—” she began, but he hushed her feeble protest with his lips. The minute his mouth covered hers, Belinda felt a melting sensation that traveled the length of her body, pausing here and there, leaving heat in its wake. She could smell the spicy scent of his aftershave, feel the soft cotton of his shirt, but most of all she felt the intense pleasure of having him thoroughly exploring her mouth.
God . . . the man could kiss. Really kiss. Like the mother of all kissers. He applied just the right amount of pressure, coaxing, and when his tongue danced with hers she couldn’t hold back a moan deep in her throat.
His warm mouth, firm lips had her needing to cling to him, tug him closer, but he had her hands trapped above her head, putting her at his mercy.
He kissed her and kissed her . . . and then moved his mouth to her neck, where he nuzzled, nibbled, and found her wildly beating pulse. Belinda made various sounds of mindless pleasure and arched away from the wall, needing to be closer to him.
Belinda could feel the steely hardness of his erection straining against his jeans, and knowing he was just as turned on made her feel a feminine sense of power, and she moved sensuously wanting more, needing more. She gasped when he moved his head lower and kissed wherever he could find bare skin, and suddenly she wanted to be naked, allowing him to explore . . . everywhere, with a few intimate places in mind for him to linger. If his kiss was any indication of his lovemaking, then, dear God, she was a goner.
In the back of her mind a little annoying voice issued a warning. Getting involved this way, within an hour of her arrival, was not her smartest move. But God, his mouth felt so damned good, like warm velvet caressing her skin. She squashed the indecision and kissed him back with wild abandon.
Later, she could blame it on the booze.
Belinda’s breath caught when he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “Oh God, you found my weak spot.”
“Your earlobe?”
“No, anywhere you put your mouth.”
Oliver chuckled low and oh so sexy, next to her ear. “I’d love to find other weak spots, but we said this was off-limits.”
“Ugh, your rules,” she said, and then gasped when he sucked her earlobe into his mouth.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Silly question.” Gasp. “Hell . . . no,” she said, but he pulled back and then gazed into her eyes. She swallowed hard and her heart pounded like the wings of a hummingbird.
“Are we starting something stupid right out of the gate?”
“Yes.” She gave him a jerky little nod. “But hey, I’ve fallen on my face twice today, so stupid is the main theme here. Might as well keep it going.”
Oliver grinned. “I think I trump you with the naked thing.”
“That was my fault too.”
“Did you like what you saw?”
“You know I did. I’d like to see it again,” she said. “But . . .” Belinda was about to say something else . . . like let’s call it a day, but he kissed her again and all coherent thought fled from her brain and hurried out the door, probably never to come back again. Good.
And then suddenly Oliver released her arms and swooped her off her feet. Just like . . . that. Belinda would have panicked, but he’d already shown that he could carry her with ease. Very cool. Extremely sexy. This gig kept getting better by the minute.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To your bedroom.”
“And then?” She wrapped her arms around him and felt as if she were floating while he carried her across the room. If this was a dream, she was going to be so pissed when she woke up.
Oliver turned and pushed the door open with his butt. “Then I’m going to tuck you into bed.”
“Oh . . . good. Wait . . . what?”
“I have sun-blocking curtains so you can take a well-deserved nap. I’ll give Devin and Julie a call so we can get this ball rolling.”
“I already liked the ball that was rolling,” she joked, but inside she felt a stab of fear. Would Devin throw her under the bus or be glad she was here and just go with it? Perhaps she should call him and fill him in on her unannounced arrival.
“Hey, don’t give me that look,” he said gently.
“What look?”
“Like you want me to stay.”
“But I do,” she answered in a small voice.
“You need to stay off that ankle.”
“I’m off my ankle.”
“And all your other injured parts.”
“Not all my parts are injured. Want to find out?”
Oliver chuckled. “Believe me, Belinda, I’d like to find out, but I don’t want to do something that could screw up our . . . thing, before we get the chance to . . .”
“What?”
“Hell, I don’t know. As you found out, I suck at making quick decisions. And I don’t want you to think later that I took advantage of you. This might sound boring, but I am one of the good guys.”
“I believe you because you left out the trust me part this time.”
“It was implied.” Oliver smiled. Damn, such a genuine, beautiful smile.
“Don’t do that ever again.”
“What?”
“Don’t give me that killer Oliver Heart smile. It has too much charm for me to resist. Not fair,” she said in a sleepy voice. “Why do you have to be so . . . great? Just be an ass so I can resist you.”
Oliver laughed. “You’re something else.”
“You mean that in a good way, right?”
“As in you’ve got your own special charm and you don’t even have to smile.”
Belinda smiled, and in that moment, she wondered how she was going to keep from falling for him. Seriously, he was being, like, perfect. “Okay, show me some kind of flaw so I can fall asleep.”
“The decision thing, remember?”
“No, a big one. Like you hate puppies or something horrific.”
Oliver laughed. “By the time you wake up, I’ll have your fridge stocked and a publicity game plan all set up.” He let her slide to the floor but kept a steadying arm around her waist.
“Okay, Mr. Perfection. Just be warned that I’m going to have to search for faults.”
“How about this one. What just happened was my fault.” He tapped that amazing chest of his. “You asked me to be a gentleman and I needed to keep my word.”
“Um, you didn’t promise, remember?”
“I’m trying not to remember. I don’t want to leave, Belinda. But you’re exhausted and I gave you the whiskey.”
“At my request. Kissed me at my . . .”
“Demand?”
“It was more like a challenge.”
&n
bsp; “Well, I have three older brothers. None of us can back down from a challenge.”
“Hmm . . . I’ll put that in my vault for future reference.”
“Please, promise to use it sparingly.”
“Nope.”
Smiling, he shook his head. “Hey, we’re going to have to work together for the next few months. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot.”
Belinda glanced at her ankle. “I already got off on the wrong foot.”
Oliver’s smile widened.
“Put that damned smile away!”
To his credit, he tried. “When I got up this morning, I wasn’t prepared for your arrival. I think we both need time to adjust. Agreed?”
“Yeah,” Belinda said, but she sounded so glum that Oliver laughed again. “I guess.”
“Okay, I’m going to let go and pull down the covers.”
Belinda nodded and felt an odd sense of vulnerability. She’d been on her own for so long that having someone doing gentle things and fussing over her made her feel emotional. When he looked at her she had to hold back tears. Now was not the time to cry!
“Belinda,” he said gently. “You’ll feel better after some rest. I’m going to go get the ice pack.”
Swallowing hard she nodded again and sat down on the bed. A few minutes later Oliver had her tucked in and iced up. The feather pillow felt so amazing that she sighed and then gave him a small smile. “So, have I made an impression?”
Oliver inhaled a deep breath and blew it out. “Well, my whole keeping-my-hands-to-myself plan was a complete fail . . . so yeah. In more ways than one.”
Belinda had to laugh. “I wasn’t the enabler. Blame it on the Jack Daniel’s.”
“You warned me.”
“That I did. I should come with warning labels stamped all over me.” God, he was sexy. Cute. Sweet. Irresistible. She yawned and then blinked up at him. “You really are one of the good ones, Oliver Heart. Hard to find these days.”
Oliver frowned. “That shouldn’t be the case.” He looked as if he wanted to say more but then pulled the covers up to her chin. “I have the house set pretty cool, but feel free to adjust to your comfort.”
