Picture Perfect (Butler Island)

by Nikki Rittenberry

  The kiss was a spontaneous reaction to her vulnerableness—a comforting gesture, like patting someone on the back when they choked…

  Ah, hell, who was he kidding? He liked her. He liked talking to her, hearing her laugh.

  And he really liked kissing her.

  He’d had every intention of calling her—even came close a few times—but ultimately hesitated. Ty was his best friend and he wasn’t sure how he would feel about him dating his little sister. It was no secret that Ty was overprotective when it came to Olivia and so Grant knew he’d have to proceed with caution.

  A steady stream of brisk morning air rushed across his skin as he stepped into the open bay. He briefly closed his eyes, inhaling a satisfying breath and when he opened them, the woman he’d been obsessing over was standing approximately fifty feet in front of him. He studied her for a moment: she was balancing three large white boxes in one hand; gently running her feminine fingertips along the surface of the fire truck with the other. Her eyes were closed and the corners of her mouth were slightly turned upward, suggesting she was thoroughly enjoying her nostalgic trance.

  Grant ambled forward, careful to tread softly and when he reached her side, he paused briefly to take in her beauty. She’d been concentrating diligently, completely unaware that Grant was standing by her side watching her.

  “You must have ESP”, he uttered softly, inches from her ear.

  Olivia opened her eyes and gasped for a breath of air. Startled, she instinctively leapt back and quickly juggled the three doughnut boxes to prevent them from falling.

  “Sweet baby Jesus! What are you doing here?” She shouted.

  Grant reached for the tumbling doughnut boxes and steadied them with his large hands before meeting her gaze. He really hadn’t meant to frighten her, but discovering her standing next to the fire truck, reveling in what appeared to be fond memories from her childhood, fascinated him. The expression on her face had been peaceful and carefree and he savored every second of it.

  He smiled at her stupefied demeanor. “I work here, remember…?”

  Olivia took a deep breath and sighed as she spoke. “Right. It’s all coming back to me now”, she answered.

  Grant removed his hands from the boxes and placed them safely in his pockets. He didn’t trust himself not to touch her again. “What are you doing here?”

  Raising the boxes slightly, she gave them a slight jiggle. “I brought everyone doughnuts. Ty’s been hounding me to stop by for weeks now—and why do I have ESP?” she asked confusedly.

  “Because, I was just thinking about you and now you’re here…” An awkward silence lurked between them for a moment and in an attempt to gain comfort, Grant stepped in front of her and leaned his shoulder against the fire engine. He blew out a puff of air and studied his work boots as he began. “Look, Olivia, I’ve been meaning to call you and—”

  “—It’s okay—no need to explain. You and I both probably had too much to drink and I’m sure if we’d been sober, nothing would’ve happened.”

  Grant tore his attention away from his shoes and pinned her with his stare. “Is that what you really think? Because I’ve been fighting the urge to kiss you ever since I rescued you on the beach.”

  Her expression remained carefree, although her stiffened posture revealed a glimpse of vulnerability. “You didn’t rescue me—I’m not a damsel in distress”, she stated.

  “Oh yeah?” Clearly amused, he crossed his arms and felt the corners of his mouth rise. “What would you call it then?”

  Without missing a beat, she answered with a wide grin. “Relocation and first aid administration.”

  Grant felt a gut-busting laugh erupt from deep within. She was such a tough girl—never wanting to admit she’d needed his help that day. Never wanting to show any outward signs of weakness. “Well, that’s certainly a first.”

  When he’d finally regained his composure, he pointed at her with his finger and flashed a heated smile. “You owe me a date.”

  Hearing him laugh warmed her soul and when he exposed that smile—the one that could melt a woman’s panties in ten seconds or less—she couldn’t help but feel a rush of adventure. She felt the tension she’d been living with for the past five days slowly recede. He’d enjoyed the kiss every bit as much as she had and he was clearly attempting to put plans in motion to kiss her again. A significant part of her wanted to jump at the opportunity to spend an evening with him on the spot. But what would be the fun in that?

  That’s the kind of reaction he’s accustomed to.

  He says “jump” and they say “how high?” It was time for Grant to sweat a little bit.

  Heavens to Betsy—this was going to be fun! “You mean the drunken Halloween kiss wasn’t repayment enough for your services?” she asked playfully.

  “Nope—have any plans for tomorrow night?”

  “As a matter of fact, I was thinkin’ of color coordinatin’ my closet”, she attempted in her best poker face.

  Grant laughed, but his expression slowly faded when he realized she wasn’t smiling any longer. “You’re serious?”

  “Uh-huh”, she responded, her lips desperately struggling to conceal her growing grin.

  “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?” he mumbled as he wiped his hand down his face.

  “Are you implyin’ that I’m playin’ hard to get, Womack?”

  Grant licked his lips and smiled. “Well, you were a referee for Halloween—you seem to enjoy games.”

  “Alright, what do you have in mind?”

  Grant shrugged his shoulders attempting to appear at ease, but truthfully he was a mangled mess of nerves. He’d practically begged her to go on a date with him—that was certainly a first. He couldn’t recall ever having to persuade a woman to spend time with him, but then again he’d never met anyone quite as unique and fascinating as Olivia. “I don’t know… I was thinking dinner—even referees have to eat, right?”

  “Alright, I’ll tell you what… I’ll think about it…”

  He watched as she sauntered away from him and he couldn’t help but smile. In his thirty-three years he’d never encountered a woman so indecisive, so determined to have the upper hand. He felt like a racing greyhound chasing the mechanical rabbit; no matter how diligently he followed, it was always slightly out of reach. Of course, he wasn’t chasing a stuffed bunny—he was seeking quality time with a sassy southern belle. He liked that she wasn’t overly eager. It was intriguing, exciting, and incredibly sexy…

  Seconds after placing the boxes on the oversized dining table, the feeding frenzy began. Olivia was suddenly surrounded by a half dozen hungry firemen. “Am I in the right place? I didn’t accidently drive to the police station, did I?” she stated as she glanced around the room.

  Ty put his arm around his little sister and kissed the top of her head. “Cops aren’t the only ones who like doughnuts, you know. Especially when they’re doughnuts from Anderson’s Bakery.”

  Randall Burns opened the box, wearing an unmistakable expression of bliss. “Mmm, they’re still warm… Thanks DD!” he shouted as he stuffed the Swiss chocolate-drizzled doughnut in his mouth.

  Grant had just returned to the kitchen when he’d overheard Randall babbling. DD? He’d clearly been speaking to Olivia, but those weren’t her initials. “Okay, what does ‘DD’ stand for?” he finally asked.

  Jimmy Phillips tore his mouth away from his doughnut long enough to give him a very brief explanation. “Daredevil.”

  Grant turned his attention to Olivia and raised his brows. “Daredevil, huh?”

  She met his astonished gaze and smiled as Ty placed his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Grant, you are in the presence of a living legend. It’s a funny story—although it wasn’t so funny at the time… This girl right here stole Mr. Baker’s jet ski when she was fifteen and took it on a three hour joyride!”

  Grant couldn’t believe what he was hearing! He’d heard about the free-spirited teenage girl
that’d hijacked a jet ski, but no one had ever uttered her name. He’d always thought it was an urban legend, unable to comprehend something so outrageous happening on the slow-paced island. “That was YOU?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Well, first of all I didn’t steal it—stealin’ implies I had no intention of returnin’ it—I borrowed it. And Mr. Baker should’ve known better than to leave that Jet Ski with the key in the ignition and a full tank of gas. And finally, I can’t be held entirely responsible—it was all Randall’s fault.”

  “Randall? How was it Randall’s fault?” he asked incredulously.

  “Because I dared her to do it…” Randall explained as he licked the chocolate from his fingertips.

  “Alright, alright—what’s all the commotion about”, Chief Handler interjected as he emerged from his office. He was a large, intimidating man with a deep growling voice, but Olivia knew that outward appearances were often misleading; Chief Handler was nothing more than an oversized teddy bear.

  “Good mornin’, Chief”, she said as she stepped away from Ty.

  “Olivia…?” His roughened expression suddenly turned softer as he opened his arms, encouraging her to experience one of his infamous bear hugs.

  She rushed toward him, but was unable to wrap her arms around him completely. He’d always been a large man and in the nine years she’d been away, he’d obviously managed to expand his waist circumference by more than a few inches.

  “I heard you were back in town and I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to stop by and see me!” Chief placed his hands on her shoulders and took a step back. “Look at you—all grown up! Hell, it seems like just yesterday you were sitting in the fire truck pretending to drive!”

  “Yeah, it does… I hope you’re hungry; I brought three dozen doughnuts from Anderson’s Bakery.”

  Chief smiled and then grabbed his belly, giving his blubber a slight jiggle. “Are you kidding me?—I’m always hungry!” Cupping his hand over his mouth, he continued in a hushed tone, “And if by chance you happen to run into my wife, please be sure to exclude what I’m about to do, okay?”

  Olivia watched as he picked up a paper plate and eagerly piled four doughnuts on top before licking his fingertips. No wonder he didn’t want Mrs. Handler to find out. He wasn’t eating the “breakfast of champions”; he was moments away from consuming a heart attack on a plate. “Don’t worry, Chief, you’re secret is safe with me…”

  Chief Handler devoured his first doughnut in roughly three bites and then turned to face Ty. “Everitt, I need to speak with you in my office about the state fire marshal’s latest report.”

  “Alright Chief, I’ll be right there.” Ty glanced toward Olivia and gave her a smirk. “If I’m not back in thirty minutes—pull the fire alarm”, he whispered wryly before he turned and walked away.

  “Should we save a few doughnuts for Jarrod?” Tommy Carson asked.

  “C’mon, man. You honestly think he’s gonna eat one?” Jimmy questioned.

  “Good point.”

  Olivia looked at the men surrounding the doughnuts. “Okay—who’s Jarrod and why wouldn’t he want any doughnuts?”

  “Because, those things will kill ya…”

  Olivia turned around just as a tall, lean, shirtless man emerged from the hallway. He’d obviously just completed a workout: his wet, blonde hair falling across his forehead, his chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were dark and mysterious. And they were currently gliding across her body.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Olivia, Ty’s sister”, she said as she offered her hand.

  He replaced the lid to his water bottle and gave it a firm twist before wiping his free hand on his shorts. He then took a step toward her and shook her hand as he spoke. “Jarrod James. It’s a pleasure…”

  Olivia removed her hand from his grip and smiled. “How come I haven’t seen you before?”

  “Well, probably because I missed the latest poker game and I was out of town last weekend for the Halloween party.”

  “Oh. Well, are you sure you don’t want just one doughnut? Surely one won’t kill you!”

  “No thanks.” Jarrod turned away toward the refrigerator and reached for a cup that resembled the size of a bucket. He cracked five eggs into the cup, discarded the shells, and then added several dashes of hot sauce before raising it to his lips. He threw back his head and in one swift motion, swallowed the raw egg mixture. And as if his choice of breakfast was the most natural thing in the world, he simply rinsed his cup, turned around and headed back to the weight room.

  The room fell silent for several moments before anyone spoke.

  “Sweet baby Jesus”, she whispered. “That brings a whole new meaning to sunny-side up, doesn’t it?” The remaining men in the room suddenly broke out in laughter. She’d never seen anyone turn down one of Mr. Anderson’s doughnuts before—and she’d certainly never witnessed consumption of a raw egg cocktail either. “Is the stove broke or something?”

  And that’s when she noticed. The entire kitchen looked different—newer. She’d been so caught up with visiting and then meeting Jarrod, she hadn’t recognized there’d been a change. The avocado-green countertops had been replaced with black-speckled Formica; the outdated linoleum floor now covered with gray porcelain tile and the walls were painted a lighter shade of gray. The cabinets appeared to be the same, however they’d been painted white, brightening the once dull room.

  She inquired about the renovations and was told that it’d taken place four years earlier. And the kitchen wasn’t the only place to receive a facelift: the entire station had undergone one as well.

  “If you’d like a tour, I can show you around”, Grant offered.

  “Thank you. That’d be great!”

  They wound their way around the entire station: The bunk room where they slept, the “corral” that housed a row of black leather recliners and a wall-mounted T.V. for evening relaxation, the small weight room, and finally the bay where they’d stumbled upon one another earlier.

  “So… Have you given any thought to my dinner invitation?”

  Olivia bit her bottom lip and crossed her arms. “You are a persistent thing, aren’t you?”

  He studied her. She was clearly debating with herself.

  Face it, Womack, she’s not interested! “C’mon, you mean to tell me that the ‘daredevil’ is afraid to have dinner with me?”

  That sounded like a challenge… “Alright, what time?” she questioned.

  “How about I pick you up at seven?”

  “How about I meet you at your place at seven?” She countered.

  Grant couldn’t contain his smile. As usual, she needed to have the upper hand.

  “Deal.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Hmmm… a pair of jeans or a slinky dress?

  It’d been over a year since her last date. Being a freelance photographer wasn’t like other jobs. Natural and man-made disasters were never planned in advance. She couldn’t glance at her schedule and predict when or where her next adventure would take her. Her frequent travels over the past year kept her far too busy for a relationship and after the horrific experience from her last date, she hadn’t been overly eager to get back into the dating game.

  Why are you obsessing over your wardrobe? This isn’t a real date, remember? Grant is just a friend.

  A friend who happens to kiss as though his life depended on it…

  Olivia searched through her closet and finally decided on a long, navy maxi-dress, a fitted denim jacket, and a pair of silver sandals. The final ensemble was dressier than her normal everyday attire, yet still casual. She wanted to look nice, but she also didn’t want to give Grant the impression that she’d put a lot of thought into tonight.

  You have put a lot of thought into it—in fact, that’s all you’ve been thinking about since you left the fire station yesterday!

  Okay, so maybe she was a little excited. Was that so terrible?

  Clearly they wer
e attracted to one another and they had a good time whenever they were together. Their feelings for one another weren’t serious—they were just having fun. It wasn’t like she was going to sleep with him or anything—

  “Where are you going tonight?” Ty asked as she approached the front door.

  “Um, just having dinner with a friend.”

  She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d said that. She wasn’t sixteen; she was twenty-seven—an adult. He couldn’t “forbid” her to have dinner with Grant. And besides, her and Grant were “friends.” A man and a woman could have dinner together without labeling it a “date”, couldn’t they?

  Raising the bottle to his lips, Grant took another large pull from his beer and then placed it on the counter. He hadn’t planned on drinking before his date with Olivia, but as the minutes ticked by it became clear that he needed something to calm his nerves.

  Quit acting like a fucking wuss! It’s not even a real date—you practically dared her to have dinner with you…

  Yeah, not one of his finest moments.

  The doorbell rang, and after chugging the remainder of his beer, he hurried to open the door.

  “Hey there, you ready?” she asked as she smiled.

  “Wow. You look” —good enough to eat— “pretty.”

  Damn it, Womack, get your mind out of the gutter.

  “Thank you. You clean up pretty nice yourself.”

  He couldn’t help but stare. Her entire body was covered, the hem of her dress settled around her ankles; the denim jacket covered her arms. But he knew what existed beneath the material: a firm, yet feminine body. Visions of that mouthwatering figure, dressed in a skimpy referee costume, had haunted him for days. “Um… let me just grab my keys and we can—”