“—Oh, there’s no need; I’m driving”, she assured him confidently.
Scratching the stubble along his jaw, he studied her. “But you don’t know where we’re going.”
“Not yet. But as soon as you tell me, I will”, she countered playfully.
After closing the door behind him he took a step forward and reached for her hand. “Okay, I’m not going to argue with you. Let’s get out of here.”
Most of the small restaurants on the island were rather casual and inexpensive. The kind of places you’d expect to find a plastic checkered tablecloth, oversized booths, and a waitress that didn’t hand you a menu because she already knew what you were going to order. But Grant didn’t want to take Olivia to a place like that. He wanted to impress her.
They’d parked in the public lot and started down the boardwalk. “So now will you tell me where we’re eatin’?” she asked impatiently.
Grant gestured toward the end of the pier. “I’m taking you to Snapper’s.”
“What…? Are you serious?”
“Of course, I’m serious…”
“I… I’ve never been there before—I’ve always wanted to, though.”
Reaching for her hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the soft skin along the back. “Well then, I guess tonight is your lucky night…”
They were seated outside along the pier overlooking a fiery sunset, listening to the gentle waves collide against the wood pilings beneath. The subtle coastal breeze on a determined voyage to reach land.
He observed as Olivia unfolded her white cloth napkin and placed it gently in her lap. “I hope this table is okay.”
“This is perfect, Grant… Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
They ordered a bottle of red wine and enjoyed a tray of oysters on the half shell before their entrees arrived. The wind was beginning to pick up as the sun fulfilled its destiny and he couldn’t seem to peel his eyes away from her as the gulf breeze gently tousled her honey-blonde locks. Her countless attempts to tuck her hair behind her ear, only to be disturbed by the wind again, fascinating him.
It was strangely… erotic. In fact, his fingers were practically twitching at the thought of tangling them in her hair.
Damn it, Womack, what the hell’s the matter with you?
Well, wasn’t that the million dollar question? Every simple, nonchalant thing she did somehow turned him on: her hair blowing in the breeze, the way she stuck her pinky finger out when she took a sip of wine, the way she licked those pouty pink lips—
“Kendall told me you’re Mr. Gibson’s grandson. How come I never remember you comin’ to visit him?”
“Probably because I didn’t.”
“Oh. Is that because you lived far away?” she asked as she dipped her bread into the clam sauce at the bottom of her bowl.
“No. I grew up in Pensacola.” He took a sip of his wine, debating about how much detail he wanted to go into about his past. It wasn’t something he talked about regularly, but somehow it seemed easy to open up to her. Maybe it was the adorable southern accent. Or maybe it was the intensity behind those emerald eyes, delivering a message of comfort and understanding.
“My grandpa and my parents didn’t get along. They weren’t on speaking terms when he died five years ago…”
Olivia reached out and grabbed his hand across the table and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry”, she uttered softly.
“It’s okay.” God, she was so beautiful, her eyes reflecting concern and recognition. She understood the loss of a loved one probably better than anyone he’d ever met and before he even realized it, he was speaking again. “My parents and my grandpa had a ‘disagreement’ when I was just a baby. And in an attempt to punish him, my parents refused to let him see me. About six years ago, right before he died, I came here and spent a week with him...”
Sensing the somber aura, Olivia decided to share one of her fondest memories of Grant’s grandpa, one that would not only transform the sudden doleful mood, but also acquaint him with the kind of man his grandpa was.
“Mr. Gibson was probably the most genuine person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowin’. When I was a little girl and Ty would take me to the beach, your grandpa would sit out on the back deck, and on really hot days, he’d come down the steps and bring us some sweet tea. He made the best sweet tea I’ve ever tasted.”
Grant chuckled. “Yeah, he sure did… so anyway, enough about me. I want to know about you.”
Olivia’s posture stiffened slightly. “Well, there’s not much to tell, really. I moved here with Ty when I was nine after my parents died; left the island for college two days after I graduated and never came back until now.”
“Where’d you go to college?”
“A small arts college in Northern Louisiana. I studied photography.”
Grant took another sip of wine and then placed his glass gently in front of him on the table. He studied her for a long beat, her disposition softening before him. “Ty tells me you’re a freelance photographer.”
“Uh-huh. Three months after I graduated college, Hurricane Katrina hit. After the storm I packed my camera and took pictures of some of the aftermath. I hadn’t planned on specializin’ in any particular kind of photography, but that experience changed me.”
Stroking the stubble along his pronounced jaw, his eyes bored into hers. “How do you mean?” he asked curiously.
“Well, most folks heard about the storm and probably thought it was such an unfortunate thing to happen and then went on with their everyday lives… There was so much devastation, Grant—I mean parts of the city looked like it was a part of a third world country! So many people lost everything they had and for most of them that wasn’t much. For me capturing pictures of the devastation and chaos after the storm was like speakin’ for those who didn’t have a voice. My pictures helped New Orleans command the national attention that it so desperately needed.”
He loved how her features lit up whenever she spoke about her career. He was beginning to see a whole new side of her—a caring, softer side. And he liked it.
After dinner they took a lazy stroll down the boardwalk and turned the corner toward the part of the pier that ran parallel to the shore. Darkness blanketed the night sky, the stars glistening like diamonds amongst a mine of black coal. Up ahead the historic Ferris wheel towered above the pier, gliding effortlessly like a pirouetting ballerina.
Their date was coming to an end, but not before he stole a private moment away with her on the Ferris wheel. Grant gestured toward the ride, “That’s where we’re headed next.”
Olivia came to an abrupt halt.“Whoa—wait a minute. You said dinner; you never mentioned anything about a Ferris wheel…”
He turned to face her, reaching for her hand. “Technically you’re correct, but now that we’re here…”
She tried to contain her nerves. She was terrified of heights. It was probably ridiculous considering all of the dangerous and crazy behavior that’d cluttered her past. She could feel her palms becoming slick, could hear her rapid pulse in her ears. Her body’s fight or flight mechanism was set into motion. More than anything she wanted to gather the bottom of her dress and sprint toward her car, but she knew she couldn’t.
He glanced at their joined hands. “You okay?” he asked. “You’re hands are shaking.”
“It’s j-just the wind. It’s getting c-cooler out here”, she stuttered.
Grant raked his eyes over her body. She was trembling, her hands were clammy, and her pupils were dilated. And suddenly he had an epiphany. “You’re scared.”
“What?”
Now her face flushed a brilliant shade of red. “You are, aren’t you…? You’re really scared right now!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” she countered. “It’s just…”
Grant licked his lips and grinned. “Children get on, you know—even frail old ladies.”
“What’s your point, Womack?”
“T
he point is, I think I’ve stumbled across the one thing that the ‘daredevil’ is afraid of”, he uttered as he gestured with his index finger.
Olivia lunged forward and placed her palm over his mouth. “Shhh! Do you mind keepin’ your voice down? Nobody on the island needs to know that heights make me… uncomfortable.”
Uncomfortable… Her choice of words didn’t surprise him. No way was she going to admit she was scared! Grant grabbed her wrist, rotating it in order to plant a kiss on the back of her hand. If she only knew how incredibly adorable and irresistible she looked. “Well, DD, I think it’s time to conquer your fear. What do you say?”
Are you nuts, girl? Grant “GQ” Womack exposes a bone-melting smile and you’re putty in his large, manly hands!
Alright, so if not for his charming good looks, she probably would have told him to go to hell. But honestly—she couldn’t think of a more perfect person to take this journey with her.
“Okay”, she said hesitantly, “but let me make something perfectly clear: If it weren’t for the fact that you helped me after my jellyfish incident, I’d tell you where you could shove that Ferris wheel right now…”
He took a step closer, lifting her chin with his fingertips; savoring the genuine smile adorned to her beautiful face. “Point taken.”
“Good.”
Slowly, they walked toward the Ferris wheel, her heart threatening to burst with every step she took. The ride was nearly empty, no eager customers waiting in line.
Yeah, probably because you’re the only one stupid enough to get talked into falling one hundred fifty feet to your death!
She watched as Grant handed the ride attendant two tickets and then whispered something in the man’s ear. The young man smiled and nodded and as the next bucket seat approached, he ushered them inside and lowered the bar snug across their lap.
Just breathe. You can do this, girl… “Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything”, he answered.
“What did you whisper to the ride attendant before we climbed aboard?”
Grant hesitated for a moment. “I told him… this was your first ride; to go easy on you—”
Suddenly the ride jerked into motion, causing the bucket to sway back and forth; also causing a strangled squeal to escape from the back of Olivia’s throat. She clenched her eyes shut, dug her nails into his arm and leaned into him.
Humpty dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty dumpty had a great fall…
“Jesus, Joseph and Mary—how long is this gonna take?” she uttered breathlessly.
“Open your eyes”, he said as they continued to climb.
“I can’t!”
Without warning the ride came to an abrupt halt, forcing the bucket into another terrifying shift. Another soft squeal escaped her lips, her eyes still closed, her arms clamped around his like a vice. “Why are we stoppin’? Are we done yet?” she asked, her voice shuddering with fear.
“No, we’re at the top—”
“Are you kidding me? Why on God’s green earth would he stop us at the top?”
“Relax. He’s probably letting someone on or off the ride. We’ll start moving again in a minute”, he explained.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put humpty dumpty back together again.
Olivia waited a few moments. “Geez, how long does it take to exit the ride? Why aren’t we movin’?”
“Open your eyes—you can see the entire island from up here”, he suggested, doing his best to distract her and avoid the question.
“No, that’s alright. I’m quite fine with my eyes shut, thank you very much. And why are you avoiding my question?”
Busted. Scratching the stubble along his chin he asked, “I’m sorry—what was the question again?”
“Why aren’t we moving? Are we stuck?” she asked again.
Grant chuckled under his breath and smiled. She looked so adorable with her eyes clenched, latching onto his arm with a strong, desperate grip. He leaned his head toward hers and positioned his mouth inches away from her ear when he finally spoke. “Open your eyes and then I’ll answer the question”, he whispered.
“Are you trying to torture me? Because if so, you’re doing one hell of a job!”
“Just humor me, okay? Open your eyes…”
Olivia took a deep breath and opened one of her eyes, aware that Grant was staring back at her, obviously amused by her reluctance. “Okay, there.”
“Huh-uh”, he uttered. “Both of them…”
She blew out a puff of air in frustration and finally gathered the courage to open it. No longer afraid to show the level of anxiety she was experiencing, she asked again. “Why aren’t we moving? Are we stuck?”
The sincerity in her voice twisted his insides. He really hadn’t meant to cause her any unnecessary anguish; he’d only wanted to steal a few private, unforgettable moments away with her. Her emerald eyes were ironically transparent, revealing how cumbersome the situation was to her. She was frightened and maybe even a little embarrassed at her loss of control—obviously something she didn’t experience often.
Alright, Womack, time to come clean…
“Not exactly”, he explained.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Feeling a wave of hysteria crash over her, she buried her distraught face in her hands. “Oh, this is no good! We’re gonna have to climb down, aren’t we? Darn it, I knew I should’ve kept my feet on solid ground—what the hell was I thinkin’?—”
“—Relax, Livvy… I paid the ride attendant to give us some privacy for a few minutes.”
“What did you say?” she asked as she removed her hands from her face and met his gaze.
“I wanted us to have some privacy. So I paid the guy to—”
“No—not that. What did you just call me?”
Shit, now you’re totally fucked! Way to go, Casanova—you probably said another girl’s name… “Um… Olivia?”
“No, that’s not what you said. You called me Livvy. That’s… that’s what my parents used to call me…”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“No—it’s okay. Nobody knows that…” She stared into his apologetic eyes, the ice-blue hue suddenly warming with desire.
“So, you’re not mad then?” he asked for confirmation. Olivia shook her head slowly from side-to-side, her gaze never leaving his. “Good. Close your eyes”, he whispered.
“Now you want me to close them?” she asked in disbelief.
“Uh-huh.”
“My pleasure.” Olivia closed her eyes and felt his fingertips gently lift her chin upward.
Grant closed the distance between them, his heart pounding, and his mind empty except for the overwhelming urge to feel her lips against his again. The kiss started slow and controlled, but moments after it began his restraint failed him. She tasted sinfully sweet—almost too good—and with every lustful stroke of her slick tongue, he could feel her fear subside.
She was gone… in the moment—in him. Their tongues waltzed in unison, finding a rhythm that was both emphatic and beautiful. As their appetite for one another increased, the cadence of their colliding tongues became rapid and powerful.
He tangled his hands in her hair, his fingers gently tugging her honey-blonde locks, appreciative for the opportunity to finally coil it around them like he’d wanted to do earlier during dinner. He angled her head in an effort to deepen the kiss and heard an encouraging moan escape from the back of her throat.
The sound was unmistakable… She was enjoying it just as much as he was.
Suddenly he felt as though he couldn’t get close enough. He wanted her. Wanted to explore her petite body with his hands; caress her gentle curves like a priceless, sculpted piece of art.
Nothing mattered except for this—not her apartment back in New Orleans, her photography career, the fact that she was currently suspended one hundred fifty feet in the air… nothing. For the first time in her life, her mind w
as blank. There were no to-do lists, no horrid or painful memories haunting her. There was just the intoxicating taste and sensation of Grant.
Her sounds reverberated through his body, igniting a hunger he’d never unleashed. He disentangled his hands from her hair and trailed his fingertips down her spine. When he reached her bottom he grabbed a hold and held on for life. Feeling as though he’d die if he didn’t get closer, he shifted his weight, attempting to turn his body toward her. But his swift modification had unforeseen consequences. His sudden movement mobilized the bucket as well, causing it to sway again.
Olivia tore her mouth away from his and gripped his shirt in both of her hands. “Don’t ever do that again!” she shouted.
“What?—you mean kiss you?” he asked breathlessly.
A sexy smile spread across her wet, swollen lips. “No—you can do that. I meant don’t rock the seat.”
“Got it.”
He leaned toward her, attempting to taste her lips again, but before he had the chance the ride jerked into motion. Her eyes clenched and her grip strengthened as they descended.
Careful, Womack, that sensation in the pit of your gut isn’t from your descent.
Yeah, he needed to be careful. Falling for his best friend’s little sister could only end badly…
CHAPTER 6
The sun was desperately trying to stake its claim in the late morning sky, but the thick blanket of murky, gray clouds shielded much of its brilliance thus far. The clouds were gracefully moving north toward the mainland, indicating that the sun would soon prevail.
Olivia sauntered toward the mailbox. Before she’d left New Orleans she’d completed the necessary paperwork to have her mail forwarded to Butler Island. At the time she wasn’t certain how long she’d be out of town. It wasn’t unusual for a week’s worth of mail to clutter her mailbox back home. She traveled out of town often; sometimes leaving on a moment’s notice. But her spur-of-the-moment return to the island was going to keep her away much longer than a week. In fact, she’d already been here for almost three weeks and her departure date had yet to be determined.
Picture Perfect (Butler Island) Page 5
