Fuck!
“I do have to say, though, my hands were laundry fresh by the time I was done! They smelled like I’d been outside picking wildflowers…”
Grant looked around—he desperately needed a way out of this conversation.
“…I recently switched dryer sheets. I used to always buy the fresh linen scent, but I have to tell you—that wildflower fragrance is so much better! I think it lasts longer on the clothes, too...”
He smiled a polite smile and ran his fingers through his hair. When he glanced back at Olivia, she was talking to Jarrod. She was smiling at him and Grant thought Jarrod was standing a little too close to her, the look in his eyes a little too lustful.
An overwhelming need to protect her washed over him. Jarrod was a good guy, but he clearly didn’t have good intentions when it came to the beautiful blonde standing in front of him.
Admit it, Womack. You’re jealous.
Okay. Yeah. So what if he was? Was that a crime?
“…I never understood why folks buy the liquid fabric softener. Most of the fragrance gets carried away in the rinse cycle. It makes more sense to use the dryer sheets. They perfume the clothes and help to ward off wrinkles—”
It’s now or never.
“I couldn’t agree more. Listen, can you excuse me for just a moment?” he asked as he patted her shoulder.
“Sure.”
Grant moved around Chatty Debbie and pointed his work boots toward Olivia.
“I appreciate the offer, I really do, but truthfully I’m beat!”
Jarrod smiled and then studied the ground for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “Maybe some other time then?”
“Yeah, maybe…”
“—Hey, Olivia, can I talk to you for a minute?” Grant asked as he approached.
Raising her camera, she shook her head. “I’m sorry; now’s not a good time. Ty’s about to start the fire engine and turn on the lights and sirens for the kids. I don’t want to miss a good photo op”, She reiterated. Reaching for his forearm, she gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Yeah, okay…”
Grant watched as she walked away. What the hell did he expect? No way was she going to talk to him about what’d happened the other day in her darkroom here. Nope, he needed a new strategy and he suddenly knew exactly how to implement it. He’d let her walk away… for now. But something deep in his gut told him he couldn’t let her walk away for good.
They were good together: mentally, emotionally, physically. In less than two months, this amazing woman had managed to wriggle her way into his heart. She’d managed to reach into the depths of his soul. A place he’d kept hidden for thirty-three years.
He was going to fight for her. Eradicate her protective walls and puncture her ego until he uncovered the hidden treasure beneath. Because this rare beauty was a unique find, and damn it, he wasn’t about to let the best thing that’d ever happened to him walk away.
Kicking off her shoes, Olivia left her bedroom and shuffled to the kitchen. It’d been a long, stressful day and with Ty still at the station until morning, she had the entire evening to unwind in private. She liked being home, sleeping in her childhood bed, but having lived on her own for the past nine years, she also enjoyed quiet time by herself.
Her plan: open a bottle of wine, sit in front of the fire pit on the patio, and try not to dwell on the mess she’d created with her personal life.
Easier said than done.
After an entire afternoon of restraint, Grant had finally approached her—no doubt wanting an explanation.
And he deserved one. But somehow when it came time to leave, she hadn’t been able to find the courage or the words to explain her behavior.
This was just who she was. She didn’t know how to be any other way. Losing control made her feel vulnerable. And she hated that—hated the overwhelming fear that enveloped her. Why couldn’t she be like everyone else? Why did she always have to be in the driver’s seat?
She embraced spontaneity when it involved her career—hell, being spontaneous as a teen landed her the nickname “daredevil.” But when it came to personal relationships, she was petrified.
She wanted to continue to see Grant, but only on her terms…
So much for spontaneity.
Yeah. She was well aware of the irony. Her career as a freelance photographer sometimes led her to dangerous situations. She never thought twice about putting herself in harm’s way in order to capture the perfect picture. The risks she took were almost second nature to her. Somehow, the thought of risking her heart—her soul—left her unprotected, defenseless, and susceptible to heartbreak again. She’d had enough heartbreak. She wouldn’t endure it—couldn’t—endure it again.
Olivia removed the cork from the bottle opener and reached above her for a wine glass when she heard the doorbell ring. She paused for a moment, knowing already who stood on the other side of the front door…
Grant.
Glancing at the clock on the stove she realized his shift had just ended five minutes earlier, which meant he’d immediately rushed here.
Setting her glass on the counter, she hurried to the front door to open it. “Hey, Grant.”
“Mind if I come in?”
“Sure.” Making her way back to the kitchen, she nervously tucked her hair behind one of her ears as he followed. “I just opened a bottle of wine. Would you like a glass?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
Grant leaned his forearms against the bar and watched as she reached overhead into the cupboard for a second glass.
“Are you expecting company?” he asked as he gestured toward the packaged fire log sitting on the counter beside her.
After taking a quick glimpse of the fire log, she met his curious gaze. “No. Why do you ask?”
Grant shrugged his shoulders. “Just seems like a lot of trouble to go through.”
You fucking idiot—why did you say that?
“What—this thing?” she asked as she lifted it from the counter. “It doesn’t get any easier than this, sugar. All I have to do is place it in the fire pit, strike a match, and enjoy.”
“That’s not what I meant… forget it—it doesn’t matter.”
“Okaaay”, she responded cautiously. “Here”, she said as she tossed the paper-wrapped log in his direction. After he caught it, she picked up both glasses of wine and started toward the French doors. “Make yourself useful. Matches are in the drawer beside the stove.”
“I thought you said this was easy”, he called out.
Olivia stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, it is. But why do it when I have a fireman at my disposal?” After revealing one of her gorgeous, gut-twisting smiles, she winked and then wandered onto the patio.
Grant chuckled softly under his breath—his feisty lil’ Livvy was back.
Once he grabbed the matches from the miscellaneous drawer, he joined her on the patio, starting the fire with ease. Olivia had already hauled a lounge chair toward the fire pit and instead of dragging another seat close to the fire, he opted to sit with her. He wanted to be close to her—needed to be close to her. He lifted her legs and sat at the foot of the lounge chair, placing her lower legs back in his lap.
Silence enveloped them for a time—not an awkward silence—just a peaceful pause in conversation as their senses were riveted by the flickering flame. Its radiance hypnotized their eyes, the crackling melody echoing their contentment.
Taking a sip of wine, Grant broke the silence. “I’m sorry about earlier”, he offered.
“Sorry? For what?” She asked confusedly.
“I saw you talking to Jarrod at the station and… I don’t know… seeing the wine and the fire log, I just figured—”
“You were jealous?” she asked in disbelief.
Feeling a little uncomfortable with that label, he took another sip of wine and then clenched his jaw. Her adjective was accurate, but that didn’t mean he liked it
. “Um, yeah. Maybe a little.”
“Jarrod asked me to have a drink with him, but I turned him down. I had a really stressful day; a crackling fire, wine… it seemed like a good way to unwind.”
Keeping his eyes on the flames, he nodded in agreement. “That it is.”
He paused for a moment, deciphering how he should proceed. He didn’t want her to get defensive and recoil—not when things finally seemed like they were somewhat “normal” again. “So how’ve you been?”
“I’ve been great”, she lied.
“No, you haven’t—you can’t fool me, Livvy… Why are you avoiding me?”
Removing her legs from his lap, she drew them in closer until her heels were flush against her rear end. “I didn’t mean to avoid you. It’s just… it—”
“—got a little too intense the other day, huh?”
Olivia cleared her throat and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind one of her ears. Talking about her feelings wasn’t something she felt entirely comfortable with. “Yeah, something like that...”
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 a
nd 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?”
Picture Perfect (Butler Island) Page 10
