by LuAnn McLane
Feeling restless, Oliver slowly eased his way from the bed, tugged on his board shorts, and let himself out. Blinking in the bright sunshine, he didn’t really want to go for a run in the heat of the late afternoon, but he did want some exercise. He grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge and chugged it, trying to decide. He looked at the shimmering swimming pool and then opted to head to the beach for a swim in the ocean instead.
Oliver walked on the weathered boardwalk, smiling at the squawk of seagulls, their flapping wings so white against the deep blue of the sky. The briny scent of the ocean beckoned him and he sighed when he reached the sand. Stopping, he looked out over the water, marveling at the beauty. He knew that most people got used to living near the ocean, the forest, or the mountains, taking their surroundings for granted. Not Oliver. No, the waves crashing on the shore would never lose their lure or appeal. He loved it here.
Reaching up to the sky, he stretched and then made his way to the edge of the ocean. He stood there, watching his feet sink into the soft sand, warmed by the sunshine. Cool, frothy water lapped over his toes, receded, and then returned. A crab scurried past him and he laughed, remembering how he and his brothers would have crab-catching contests and sand-dollar hunts. He’d usually won sand-castle building contests because his brothers would finish and move on to other things while Oliver would fret over every detail. He’d had so many fun times at the beach with his family. No matter where he traveled, Sea Breeze would forever be his home.
Did he really want to do this solo career thing? The question slammed into his brain and stayed there. Grady could use more help with their mother’s foundation. He had plenty of options. With a growl, Oliver picked up a stone and threw it into the water. He hated indecision. He just wished for once he would immediately know what he wanted, without a moment of hesitation.
Well, he sure as hell knew he wanted Belinda Beal in his bed. And he wasn’t like that, having sex so fast. Yet it didn’t feel that way. He picked up another rock and tossed it. This so-called torrid fling she’d come up with made sense to a degree. And the beauty of it was that this was her idea, so he didn’t have any guy guilt that he had lured her into bed, gotten what he wanted, and then tossed her aside. The mere thought of treating her that callously caused him to frown.
Oliver sighed. If he got hurt in the end, he’d lick his wounds and go on his merry way, as she called it. But the notion of Belinda being in any kind of pain, emotional or physical, already bothered him.
“What in the hell am I supposed to do?” he shouted into the wind.
“Uh, answer your damned phone, for one thing.”
Oliver whipped around to see Grady standing there in the sand. “Where the hell did you come from?”
Grady jammed a thumb over his head. “My house. I needed a run, and since you refuse to pick up my calls, I thought I’d jog here and see what’s up. So . . . what are you so upset about?” Grady swiped sweat from his face with the edge of his T-shirt.
Oliver shrugged. “Belinda Beal is here.”
“Where?”
“Staying in the pool house.”
“Since when?”
“Since yesterday. Devin suggested another fake romance thing.”
“Wow.” Grady nodded without enthusiasm. “So, did you know she was coming?”
“No, Dev didn’t give me a heads up. ”
“That’s weird. And not like him. Did you ask him? I know surprises aren’t your thing.”
“I guess I shouldn’t stay pissed at Devin.” Oliver didn’t want to get into the details. “She’s here now, so that’s all that matters. I mean, we might as well get this whole thing started.”
Grady folded his arms over his chest. “Fill in the blanks, Oliver.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said hotly.
“Last time we talked about this kind of thing, you weren’t one hundred percent sure you even wanted to do this publicity stunt.”
Oliver shrugged. “Well, Belinda decided for me.”
“And that didn’t piss you off?”
Oliver squished his feet into the sand. “Maybe for a minute.” He glanced up toward the house, wondering if Belinda was still sleeping.
“Whoa, wait.” Grady pushed his Oakleys up and looked closely at Oliver. “No . . .”
Oliver tried to keep his features impassive. Grady had this damned big-brother sixth sense when it came to reading Oliver.
“Come clean.”
“About fucking what?”
“Belinda Beal. You always did have a thing for her.”
“That was a long time ago. I was barely sixteen.” He patted his chest.
“Did you already do the deed with her?”
“Dude.”
“It’s written all over your face.”
“Oh, shut the hell up. And don’t say do the deed. That’s . . . demeaning. I’m not a man-whore,” he said, but was really thinking about not hurting Belinda. Plus, he didn’t brag about whom he slept with.
Grady raised his palms in the air. “Back it down. You’re not usually this sensitive. Or . . . ah,” Grady said slowly with a nod. “I get it.”
“Do you? Because I sure as hell don’t,” Oliver said, and plopped down in the sand, where Grady joined him.
“Talk to me, bro. And I don’t have to say that this goes nowhere. I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“Don’t judge me.”
“Of course not. You damned well know better.”
“I won’t share details, but fuck man, she’s like in my head. I feel as if I’m falling for her, and she just got here. And you know how guarded I am when it comes to relationships. We all are, and for good reason. I mean, I was just remembering all the family times at the beach and I nearly lost it.”
“Yeah.” Grady tugged off his running shoes and socks before putting his feet into the sand. “There wasn’t much that could really have prepared us for tragedy. But we did learn one thing from our parents.” Grady turned his head and looked at Oliver. “Man, when you find something wonderful, grab on to it and don’t let it go. I nearly lost Arabella. Twice! And I know this sounds weird, but heartache also makes you appreciate the good stuff, the small stuff.”
“Grady, you know how I am. My face should be next to the word indecision in the dictionary. Why can’t I ever make up my damned mind?”
“So you’re rethinking the solo career?”
“Kinda.” Oliver shrugged. “But now I have Belinda involved so I can’t just back away.”
“You can still have the stupid fake romance without launching your career. But hey, it’s up to you.”
“That’s the damned problem.”
“Look, Oliver, you don’t have to make any decision right now. One of your problems is that you think you gotta decide things right away, so it only makes it harder and gives you anxiety. Like right now. You’re having these immediate strong feelings for Belinda. You don’t have to decide if it’s love right now. Just go with the flow for a while.”
“I’m trying, but I don’t know how. Damn, I sound like such a girl.”
Grady laughed. “Give this time.”
“But—”
“No.” Grady raised one hand, cutting him off. “No buts, because I’ll tell you this much: you don’t get to choose who you fall in love with. That shit just . . . happens.” He snapped his fingers.
“How do you know when it happens? Or is that an insane question?”
Grady looked out over the water. “I think the realization came to me after losing Arabella the first time around. I should have gone after her, but pride got in the way. When it comes to loving someone, toss pride out the window. Just kiss it goodbye. I learned that the hard way.”
“So . . . you just knew you couldn’t live without her?”
“Oh, I could li
ve without her, but I wouldn’t be happy.”
“Arabella makes you happy?”
“Well, I’ve learned that happiness comes from within.” Grady tapped his chest. “You gotta be at peace with yourself. You know that I was lost for a few years. Screwing around doing nothing of any real value.”
“And then you started Mom’s foundation.”
“Yep.” Grady nodded. “I made myself happy, and Arabella just enhances my life. I’d never be this happy, this content, without her,” he said gruffly.
Oliver picked up a conch shell that had rolled in with the tide. “I get it now, Grady. There’s just something missing in my life and I thought it was the music, the rush of performing. But without you guys . . .” He shrugged. “What the hell am I gonna do? I’m so damned torn . . . confused. And it’s just getting more complicated by the day.”
“You’ve got the chops. You’ve got the look. I honestly think you’ll make it work. If that’s what you really want to do.”
“I dunno.” Oliver nodded, watching a pelican dive for a fish. “The whole famous thing can be kinda a pain in the ass.”
Grady chuckled. “True that. Hey, since you’re asking for my pearls of wisdom . . .”
“Did I ask? Oh yeah, I did. What was I thinking?”
Grady gave him a shove. “Falling in love doesn’t have, like, a time frame. You seem to be feeling foolish to think that you already have a huge thing for Belinda, may be falling in love with her. But you know, even though you were just kids when you did the first pretend thing—which I should have stopped, by the way—it was evident that you two had something even back then. You didn’t fool the public without truly having some serious chemistry. I think that’s why you felt something right away now. Those feelings might have just been hidden, waiting to get out.”
Oliver nodded. “We’d kinda figured that out.”
“We?”
“Yeah, thank God the attraction isn’t one-sided.” He grinned. “So now what?”
“Hey, that’s up to you, baby brother.”
“I need more pearls, dammit.”
“That’s all I got.” He shook his head. “No, wait.”
Oliver gave him his undivided attention. “If in this whole process you really do fall completely in love with her?”
“Yeah?”
Grady pushed to his feet and offered Oliver a hand. “Don’t let her get away or you’ll regret it forever.” He reached for his shoes. “Okay, I’ve gotta get back. Pick up my calls from now on.” He gave Oliver’s shoulder a shove. “Unless you’re doing something where you don’t want to get interrupted. Then you’re forgiven.” Grady pulled Oliver in for a hug and a slap on the back. “And if you ever need to talk, let me know.”
“Will do. Tell Arabella I said hi.”
“She was the one who insisted I check up on you. But I won’t tell her anything about our discussion, other than that Belinda is already here. But she might put two and two together.” He tapped his index finger to his temple.
Oliver nodded, and after Grady left, he decided it was time to head back to shower and then start dinner prep. He firmly told himself not to think about anything past tonight.
With that thought in mind, he went back to the house, tugged on cargo shorts and a polo shirt, sprayed on a little aftershave, and put some pomade in his hair. Singing along with Pandora radio, he wondered if he should shave, but then he remembered how Belinda had loved the stubble against her nipples and put the razor down. His dick, oh so glad to be back in action, instantly reacted to the memory.
Oliver sent Belinda a text that he would be serving cocktails on the deck by the pool while he prepared dinner. And then he literally stared at his phone while he waited for her response.
Ping. Oliver read her text: Sounds lovely.
Oliver tried not to read too much into the text message, but he hoped she was ready for round two.
CHAPTER TEN
TOO MUCH HEAVEN
After a long, steamy bath, Belinda took special pains with her hair and makeup. She heard Oliver clanking around in the outdoor kitchen, singing along with the music coming from his poorly placed fake rock speakers. Back when he was with Heartbeat, he’d mostly sung backup harmony, except for one top-ten hit he fronted in that catered to teenyboppers. But on the new Heartbeat EP he crooned a slower, sexier version of “Will You Be My Baby,” and day-um, he had some chops.
After much deliberation, Belinda chose a flowy ankle-length sundress that showed just the right amount of halter-top cleavage to tease him. After waking up from her nap, she was disappointed to find Oliver gone, but took the time to assess the current situation. In her wildest dreams, she wouldn’t have thought she’d fall into bed with him right off the bat—or at all for that matter. Heat flooded her cheeks when she recalled her wild, wanton response to his lovemaking.
While she didn’t sleep around, she wasn’t a stranger to sex. But apparently she’d been doing it wrong, because after being with Oliver, everything else paled in comparison. He’d set the bar sky high for anyone who dared follow him. And just how was she supposed to be nonchalant while sipping cocktails and eating dinner? Would she be able to carry on polite conversation when all she could think about right now was sliding beneath the sheets with him again and not coming up for air until she was completely out of energy? Maybe not. Luckily, the delicious dream-filled nap left her refreshed and ready to rumble.
So after giving her hair some beachy waves, she added a dab of her favorite exotic perfume to her wrists, then added another one behind her ears for good measure. Looking at her reflection with a critical eye, she reached into the halter top of her sundress and rearranged the girls. With a satisfied nod, she added another swipe of lip gloss, dusted just a bit more blush over her cheekbones, and then brushed one more coat of mascara on her eyelashes. She’d carefully applied a smoky eye shadow, accenting the violet shade of her eyes that always made her feel different. “Okay, enough.” Scooping her makeup into a cosmetic bag, she observed her handiwork with satisfaction.
After their steamy escapade in bed, she felt a sense of feminine power and fully intended to use it on Oliver. Of course, she’d be subtle: leaning over here, brushing (accidently) against him there. She laughed softly, thinking she hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time, and she had the after-sex glow to prove it.
Still, just before she opened the door, she felt a tiny sizzle of nerves. Was she overdressed? Too made up? Damn, maybe she should change into shorts and a T-shirt. Pull her hair into a ponytail. Blot the gloss from her lips. “Yeah,” she said, but as she turned around a knock at the front door stopped her. With a pounding heart, she swung the door open and Oliver stepped inside.
“Hey there, cutie. Sorry, I got impatient.”
“I was coming out in a minute,” Belinda said, embarrassed that the breathless tone of her voice sounded like a bad Marilyn Monroe impression.
“I wanted to pick you up for our date,” Oliver explained, and he gave her a smile that melted her insides. She could be totally pissed at him and that smile would do her in. “You look gorgeous,” he said.
“Thank you. And you, sir, are lookin’ mighty fine,” she said, willing herself not to blush. This after-hot-sex-thing was turning out to be kinda awkward, because the only way she could keep herself from launching at him was to pretend her feet had roots into the floor. She looked down. “Oh crap, I forgot to put on shoes.”
“This is Florida. No shoes, no shirt, no problem.”
“Then why are you wearin’ a shirt?” she asked with a bit of sass.
“Good question.” Oliver quickly tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. Then just as fast, he pushed Belinda up against the wall and kissed her. And not just any ole kiss. God, his lips, soft and firm, coaxed her mouth open. The gentle exploration ignited passion that started as a slow burn that had Belinda wra
pping herself around him, exploring his back, loving the ripple of muscle, the heat of his skin. He smelled amazing, like soap and sunshine.
Oliver cupped her breast through the silky material of the halter top and her nipples responded. With a groan, he reached behind her neck and untied the top. Her breasts spilled forward. “No shirt . . .”
“It’s a dress.”
“Then, no dress,” he said, and with one tug her sundress slipped to the tile floor in a colorful heap. His mouth found her breasts and she had to cling to him or join her dress.
Not to be outdone, Belinda found the snap and zipper of his shorts, and with one swift yank, his pants were history. “You’re free balling.”
“I wanted to save time getting undressed.”
“Mmm, good call.” She cupped his tight ass cheeks, pressing his erection to her bare skin. He moved against her while kissing her neck and then, mercy, he slipped a finger beneath her black satin thong and found her already wet and crazy for him. White-hot desire took her breath away.
“Belinda?” His tone was low, needy.
She didn’t know what his question was but the answer was, “Yes.”
Slipping her thong down her legs, Oliver sank to his knees, lifted one leg over his shoulder, and put his mouth where she wanted him most. With a low cry, she clung to his head and pressed her back against the cool wall while he worked his magic. Ah, quick, gentle licks had Belinda breathing hard. Pleasure pulsed in a slow throb, increasing her need for release with each lick. He changed speeds, flicking his tongue faster, harder, and then pulling back with little taps with the tip of his tongue. He seemed to know how to bring her to the edge and how to back off, leaving her hanging, aching.
Belinda closed her eyes and threaded her fingers through his thick hair, thinking any moment the leg holding her up would give out and she’d slither to the floor without her desperately needed orgasm. And then suddenly Oliver came to his feet, picked her up, and said, “Babe, wrap your legs around me.”
