Picture Perfect (Butler Island)

by Nikki Rittenberry

Another man had stumbled in—too drunk to realize he’d entered the women’s restroom—but thankfully not too far gone to come to her rescue.

  Todd was arrested, charged with sexual assault; three days later, four brave women came forward with similar stories…

  The encounter caused her already untrustworthy heart to become more guarded—that is until she’d met Grant.

  He loved her.

  And that scared her to death. Everyone she’d ever allowed to get that close had left her in some way or fashion: her parents—even Ty. As much as she disliked Cameron, she’d been happy for her brother. He’d sacrificed so much to raise her and he deserved his happiness, too. He’d always invited her home for the holidays, but she’d always declined. He had a wife—a new family—and she wasn’t a part of it.

  Olivia reached into her nightstand and removed the picture she’d taken of her and Grant on the beach last month. The corners of her mouth tilted upward as she recalled that day.

  Grant loved her…

  And she was falling for him…

  But it was only a matter of time before he’d leave her like all the others had, too. As much as it pained her, she had to walk away first. It was better this way; she gave up on “happily ever after” a long time ago.

  CHAPTER 20

  Removing his key from the lock, Ty opened the front door and tossed the mail on the small bureau in the foyer. He drifted into the kitchen like a zombie, his body thirsting for caffeine—and lots of it. He paused momentarily as he approached the coffeemaker. Hmmm, that’s odd… It was already on…

  Movement on the patio caught his attention.

  Olivia.

  Storming through the French doors, he rushed toward her. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted as he approached.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” she asked as she raised her mug. “It’s a beautiful morning to—”

  “You know that’s not what I meant—you’re supposed to be with Grant!”

  “You worry too much”, she uttered nonchalantly.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, his angry eyes bored into hers. “Really? You were nearly killed less than two weeks ago—or don’t you remember…?

  Pulling her knees into her chest, she hugged her legs with her free hand. “Yeah, that’s the problem: I do remember… Look, I know you’re upset, but don’t be mad at Grant. I snuck out earlier—he probably doesn’t even know—”

  “What?” he asked angrily. “How did you get home?”

  “Well, I walked.”

  “Olivia!” Ty sat down across from her and pressed his thumb and index finger against his clenched eyes. After inhaling a gallon of fresh morning air, he finally spoke again. “Listen, I know everything.”

  “You know everything about what…?” she asked confusedly.

  “You and Grant—and let me tell ya: I’m not exactly thrilled about it!”

  “Wait—how’d you?—”

  “I figured it out at the hospital when he came to visit you.” Leaning his arms on his knees, he inched forward. “I swear to God, Liv, if he hurt you—”

  “He didn’t”, she assured him. “He’s been really, really good to me, Ty… If anyone’s gonna get hurt, it’s gonna be Grant…”

  The soft red glow of the safe light temporarily soothed her weary eyes; couldn’t say the same about her mind, though. Her brain was so congested, overcrowded with questions she had no answers to.

  Was her attacker still lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce again?

  Did Grant really love her?

  Did she have the strength to end their relationship?

  Could she pretend she wasn’t falling for him, too?

  So. Many. Questions…

  She didn’t want to think about that right now. In fact, she didn’t want to think about anything. Switching her mind to its automatic pilot mode, she poured fixer solution into the basin in front of her. The best part of developing her own film?—she could almost do it with her eyes closed, which meant she didn’t have to think at all…

  Opening the back of her ancient 35mm camera, she removed the film. And that’s when she heard it: four loud knocks. “Who is it?” she asked, already knowing who stood on the other side.

  “It’s me, Grant.”

  “The door shut behind you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Olivia reached for the knob, unlocked the door, and then retraced her steps back to the counter where she’d been working. She needed to keep her hands busy. The last time he’d visited her darkroom, she’d ended up against the door with her legs wrapped around his waist.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he questioned sternly.

  Her back still turned, she answered, “What does it look like I’m doing?—I’m developing film.”

  Bracing his hands on either side of her on the counter, he stood behind her. “You know what I mean. I woke up this morning and panicked when you weren’t there. I was about to call the police when Ty called and said you’d walked home earlier. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  “My mind has never been clearer”, she lied.

  “You could’ve been hurt!”

  “I’m perfectly fine, Grant.”

  Lowering his head, he released a heavy sigh. “Cut the bullshit, Livvy. I’m not buying it… You don’t have to act tough around me.”

  “I’m not acting”, she lied again. She really needed to stop that.

  Gripping her arms, he spun her around. “Yes, you are! Look at me…” He watched as her eyes danced around, landing on various objects before hesitantly connecting with his. “You’re doing it again”, he uttered softly.

  “Doing what?”

  “Pushing me away! Why? Why, Livvy…? Last night, I thought—”

  “Last night I had a moment of weakness, but I’m better now. I’m not gonna let this bastard scare me anymore…”

  Peeling her focus away from his intense gaze, she lowered her head. What she was about to say was going to be tough, but it had to be done. She needed to do it quickly—like ripping off a band aid—before she lost what little courage she had left.

  “Listen, I really appreciate your concern—I really do—but I can take care of myself.”

  “I know you can, but—”

  “I need to focus on my work, Grant. I’ve been ignoring my biggest priority too often lately and… and I can’t afford any distractions right now.”

  “What are you saying?” he asked disconcertedly.

  “You should go”, she whispered, unable to find her voice.

  What the hell? Grant lifted her chin with his fingertips, forcing her to look him in the eye. “So I’m a distraction?” Her silence said more than any words she could’ve spoken. Removing his fingertips from her chin, he wiped his hand down his face. Rage rose within him like searing magma, threatening to explode.

  She thought he was a distraction… Like a car alarm whose siren sounded with deafening precision; a hungry mosquito buzzing in her ear… a Goddamn distraction!

  He needed to get out of this room before he did something else distracting—like confess how much he loved her. “Alright then”, he mumbled as he pivoted toward the door.

  Olivia watched helplessly as he disappeared from view, leaving her alone.

  Alone.

  Why couldn’t she be brave? Why couldn’t she trust his love?—trust her heart?

  Because she was terrified of loss. So terrified that she’d deliberately hurt Grant before he had an opportunity to hurt her.

  The look on his face when he’d asked if he was a distraction had almost killed her. Almost. She reminded herself that she didn’t have a choice. The important people in her life tended not to “stick.”

  Trusting her heart would only result in its death. Because it was only a matter of time before he’d realize she wasn’t the woman she proclaimed to be; she was a fraud.

  He was in love with the carefree, picture perfect image she’d cultivated years ago—not the
real her…

  Friday night poker…

  Grant was in no mood to play, but Olivia had been avoiding him all week. He wasn’t confident he’d win, but he was confident he’d get an opportunity to see her, talk to her. And that was worth any amount of money he’d lose in the process.

  After ringing the doorbell, he shoved his hands in his front pockets and drew in a deep breath. As soon as the door opened, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room for her presence.

  “Eager to lose your money tonight, are you?” Randall asked as he closed the door behind them.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Well, good—I owe a buddy of mine a boat load of cash. Taking yours will be the easiest part-time gig I’ve ever had!”

  Most of the guys and their significant others had already arrived, the living room cluttered with warm bodies immersed in meaningless conversation. An eruption of laughter echoed from the kitchen. And that’s when he saw her. She was surrounded by several of the wives, talking, laughing; looking as though she didn’t have a care in the world…

  That’s right, Womack, she looks like a woman with no more distractions…

  He’d told himself he wouldn’t ambush her—at least not at first. Apparently his body didn’t get the memo; before he became conscious of it, he was on the move, his body on a direct collision course with the woman he loved.

  “Hey ladies”, he announced as he approached. The handful of women all greeted him in unison as he turned toward Olivia. “How are you doing?”

  Revealing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, she replied, “I’ve been great.”

  “Good. I’m… I’m really glad to hear that…”

  There was an awkward silence as the crowd of females gawked at the spectacle before them. His feelings for this woman were clearly written all over his face and for the first time in his life, he didn’t care.

  “You know what?” Lana Phillips interjected. “I left my phone in the car. I think I’d better go get it.”

  “Yeah, I think I left my drink out on the patio”, Tonya woods remarked as she strolled toward the French doors.

  “Wait up—I’ll go with you.”

  “Me, too”, announced Jenny Carson.

  Suddenly, it was just the two of them.

  “I thought they’d never leave”, he said as he revealed a mischievous grin. Olivia smiled too—not the fake smile she’d pasted earlier—but a real, genuine smile that brightened her delicate features and warmed his heart.

  His eyes perused her body. She was wearing a plum-colored blouse that complimented her soft tanned skin; a slim pair of dark denim jeans that emphasized her delectable curves and a pair of black suede stilettos. Her hair was set in soft voluminous curls, reminding him of how it appeared the night she’d transformed into a sexy referee.

  And those lips…

  Plump. Supple. Irresistible.

  They were layered with a shiny peach gloss and he wondered if they tasted as delicious as they appeared…

  Of course they did. That was a stupid fucking question, Womack.

  Yeah, it was.

  “You look beautiful”, he finally managed to say.

  “Thank you.”

  Grant leaned his shoulder against the refrigerator and shoved his hands back into his pockets before he did something really stupid: reach for her. “I was… hoping that maybe we could talk later, you know? After everyone leaves? I… really miss you, Livvy.”

  Olivia stared into his mesmerizing eyes, the radiant blue hue unable to camouflage the anguish he was experiencing.

  Nor the love.

  The doorbell rang, jolting her back to reality. “I can’t, Grant. I’m sorry, but I’ve already made plans.” Plans to push you even further away…

  “Oh—”

  “—Hey Olivia, you ready?”

  Grant glanced over his shoulder… Jarrod James stood behind him, his eyes hungry for a taste of his Livvy.

  “Yeah, let me just grab my purse.” Olivia reached behind her on the counter for her black leather clutch and when she turned around, the betrayal on Grant’s face nearly suffocated her.

  Was this some kind of a sick joke? He was a “distraction”, but Jarrod wasn’t? Grant tilted his head back toward Jarrod. “What’s this all about?” He inquired through clenched teeth.

  “Dinner, Grant—I’m hungry…” Olivia placed her free hand on his forearm and squeezed. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  Glancing over her shoulder, Olivia took in the view from their table along the deck. The moon’s reflection glistened in the calm Gulf and the rhythmmic cadence of gentle waves colliding against the wood pilings below lulled her. She allowed her mind to settle in a brief reverie: the night everything changed.

  Two months earlier, she’d sat across from Grant at this very table on their first date, unaware that their casual intentions would evolve into something so authentic. So rare. Closing her eyes, she recalled that evening: dinner, the Ferris wheel ride, their kiss…

  “You alright?” Jarrod asked kindheartedly. “You haven’t said much since we sat down.”

  Olivia turned her attention back to Jarrod. Under different circumstances, the attractive blonde man sitting to her right would’ve easily absorbed her attention. But somehow, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t forget about Grant.

  She was being unfair—she knew; there were plenty of single women who’d happily trade places with her right now. Plenty of women who’d give anything for Jarrod to aim his dark gaze in their direction.

  “I’m sorry”, she uttered as she smiled. “I guess I just got lost in the beautiful view.”

  “It is a beautiful view—although I’m not sure if we’re referring to the same scenery”, he said as he gave her a wink.

  Olivia nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and attempted to steer the conversation toward a safer topic. “How long have you been a firefighter?”

  “About three years”, Jarrod replied.

  “And what did you do before that?” Olivia asked before she took a sip of wine.

  “Played football.”

  Olivia tilted her head. “Let me guess: quarterback?”

  Jarrod smiled. “You’re good—how’d you know?”

  “I don’t know”, she said as she shrugged her shoulders, “you just look the part, I guess. You have a lot in common with Randall, ya know; he was our quarterback in high school and then went on to play at the local community college.”

  She observed him for a few moments. His eyes seemed to glaze over as though he were reliving one of his fondest memories, and then his brows furrowed. “So you stopped playing after graduation?”

  Jarrod shrugged his shoulders. “Injured my shoulder at the start of my senior year in college. By the time it healed, no one was interested in taking a chance on me.”

  She could almost feel disappointment radiant off him in waves. Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed his hand. “I’m really sorry, Jarrod.”

  Shrugging his shoulder again, he stroked the stubble along his jaw with his free hand. “Ah, it’s alright. Guess it just wasn’t meant to be…”

  The waitress suddenly appeared, gently placing their meals in front of them. And after refilling their water glasses and handing Jarrod another beer, she disappeared inside.

  “Wow! This looks delicious!” she acknowledged as she removed her hand from his grip.

  “Trust me, it is”, he shared. “Is this your first time here?”

  “Um… no. No, I’ve been here before. Once…”

  With Grant… our first date…

  “Alright, now it’s my turn to ask twenty questions”, he informed her as he placed his beer back on the table.

  “Okay, I guess that’s only fair. What do you wanna know?”

  “Everything…”

  Groaning, Olivia slowly reached for the phone. “Hello?”

  “You up?” Grant asked.

  “Well, I am now—”

  “
—Good. Get dressed; I’ll be there in fifteen minutes to pick you up. We’re having breakfast.”

  Olivia sighed. “Grant, can I take a rain check?” she asked as she massaged her temple with her free hand.

  “No. Now you have fourteen minutes. I’ll see you then.”

  She really didn’t need this right now. What she needed to do was turn over and go back to bed! She’d taken a dose of Benadryl after she’d returned from dinner with Jarrod last night, hoping it would knock her out so she’d sleep. It worked—maybe a little too well. She felt groggy, her mind clouded in a drowsy fog. But she knew Grant; he wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer.

  And after what she did to him last night, she didn’t exactly blame him.

  Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the look of bewilderment on his face when he realized she was going to dinner with Jarrod. She hated herself for doing that.

  Hated that she’d had to.

  Rising from bed, she quickly dressed in a black velour jogging suit, brushed her teeth and pulled her long hair back into a loose ponytail. As promised, he arrived in exactly fourteen minutes.

  He’d taken her back to his beach house, a dozen doughnuts from Anderson’s Bakery awaiting them on the back patio. Sitting next to him, absorbing the luminous rays of the rising sun, revived her.

  Her eyes quickly roamed over the picturesque landscape, and then they became transfixed on the man beside her. His jaw was clenched tight: an attempt to simmer his growing temper. She kept waiting for him to lose it, to slam his fist against the table and yell. But he didn’t.

  Instead, he shocked her by keeping the aura light and easy—as though last night had never happened. There was no mention of Jarrod; no mention of her odd behavior.

  She was sharing some of her fondest memories of Ty bringing home doughnuts on his way home from shift when she was a little girl, when Grant inched forward toward her. Raising his hand to her face, his thumb brushed against the corner of her mouth. She paused in mid-sentence as he brought his thumb to his lips.

  “Mmmm, lemon cream… That’s good. I’ll have to get that next time.”