HeroAdrift_PRC (5 page)

As he was leaving the commandant's office, it dawned on him. The problem wasn't with Abby or anyone else, it was with him. Instead of going to his quarters to catch some Zs, Oliver turned and walked outside the Buffalo headquarters. Group Buffalo was situated at the head of the Niagara River and the eastern end of Lake Erie. As Oliver walked to the point that separated the river from the lake, he thought about all he'd been through the last few months. He stuck his hands in his pockets and watched as colorful sailboats made their way either into the river and Erie Canal, or turned to ride the wind on the open lake.

As a warm breeze ruffled his shirt and the sun bounced so brightly off the waves that it was nearly blinding, Oliver went back in his mind to the night in Miami. As he replayed the events, he tried his best to figure a way to have kept things from spinning out of control. In a way that hadn't been possible before, he examined every action and reaction of, not only himself, but each member of his crew. Each time, each scenario led him to the same conclusion. He had been right, but so had the commander, so had Abby. He had done his job. He had performed his duty. In short, it hadn't been his fault, just as it hadn't been preventable.

As Oliver felt a sense of peace wash over him, he knew he only had one mission left to accomplish before moving forward with his life.

Unfortunately, that mission would have to wait a few hours until he met with Abby at school.

Where was she?

Oliver had been introduced to the principal of the Buffalo School, along with several of the senior staff members. She wasn't among them.

He'd also been introduced to several parents, among them a very effusive and grateful Mrs. and Mr. Borrelli. It was through the Borrellis he learned about Abby's troubles with some of the other parents and the school board.

It angered him when he learned some people were using the accident as a reason to run her out of her job. He thought back to the selfless courage she'd shown by going in after Billy. There were a lot of men and women who'd failed to make the grade at the Coast Guard Academy who hadn't shown half the courage of Abby had. Granted diving in to save a child was reckless, but it'd also been heroic. Anything could have happened with Billy. Oliver said as much to the Borrellis and it seemed they agreed wholeheartedly with him.

He told them he didn't know what kind of teacher she was, but he knew if he had a child, Oliver would want Abby in his or her corner. The Borrellis agreed and assured him she was just as caring and dedicated to her teaching duties.

But Oliver wanted to tell Abby that in person. Now he cursed every moment of his wasted free time when he could have been spending it with her, when he could have convinced her she was the hero, and not him.

Instead, Oliver was stuck giving a talk to people he didn't want to know and spending the afternoon without her in his arms.

He smiled at all the people in the small conference room waiting to hear him speak, while his mind was repeating one thing over and over. When he was off, he'd do everything to find Abby and make her his.

But first there was something he could do.

Abby looked at her watch and swore. She was going to be late and she didn't want to be late.
Not this afternoon!

She pulled into the lot of the elementary school and put her car in park. She was nervous. She shouldn't be. The big meeting, the one that had held her career in the balance, had been over for an hour. She would be keeping her job--at least as long as budget cuts didn't force the district into layoffs.

That wasn't what made her nervous. What made her nervous was seeing Oliver again. She'd left him alone for the remainder of his weekend, even though she'd known he was in his apartment. She figured he needed time. She knew she did. And Abby had used the extra time to plot her strategy.

First, she'd done some research on the Coast Guard, then she'd called up her best friend from college. Betsy was married to a Coast Guard pilot and they were stationed in North Carolina. The conversation had been informative in more ways than one. Betsy had told Abby the general gist of what had happened to Oliver in Miami. Betsy's information had re-confirmed what Abby had sensed from the beginning. Oliver was a hero all right, but he was one whose soul was in desperate need of anchoring. He was allowing guilt and self-doubt to cloud his entire life.

Well, Abby wouldn't stand for it. She was going to make Oliver understand that he'd done everything he could possibly do and more. Abby had never consciously tried to "get" a man before. Then again, she'd never met a man like Oliver before. So, today was the first day of Abby's campaign to restore Oliver's soul. She would not fail.

Oliver knew the second she slipped in the door at the rear of the room. He was talking about daily operations of a Coast Guard unit, but he could almost feel the air in the room heat up by ten degrees. It was a wonder all the other men didn't feel it as well.

He paused and then continued. "So, in addition to education and inspection of boaters and boats, we also handle search and rescue. As most of you know, we used the search and rescue techniques last week with the
Niagara Belle.
"

The Borrellis were smiling at him. Oliver passed over them and looked straight at Abby. "In truth, though, the rescue was accomplished by one of your teachers, Ms. Smithton. She realized Billy Borrelli was overboard before any of the rescuers did and jumped in to save him. That, folks, is what heroism is about.

"We in the Coast Guard have a creed that every man and woman, enlisted or officer, follows. One line of it says, "I shall sell life dearly to an enemy of my country, but give it freely to rescue those in peril." Your Ms. Smithton did that and should be applauded for it. I applaud her for it and have a certificate from our commanding officer to present to her in recognition of that brave act."

He paused and waited for the applause, which was started by the Borrellis, but soon encompassed everyone in the room.

"Ms. Smithton, if you'd please come here."

She walked forward and he noticed the pleasure on her face. He hoped it was only the beginning of what he'd see there before the afternoon was through.

"Ms. Smithton, this certificate says: For heroism and dedication to saving and preserving life, we sincerely thank you and give you the Coast Guard Certificate of Merit."

Everyone in the room rose to their feet and applauded. When Abby reached for the certificate, he held his end keeping her close to him. "I applaud you as well and wonder if your courage will extend to offering an idiot a second chance?"

Abby looked at him. "I might, but I may need a bit more convincing," she said softly.

He smiled. "Convincing I'm very good at. How about at my place at nineteen-hundred hours tomorrow?"

Abby smiled and saluted. "Aye, aye, sir."

His smile dimmed a little. "There are some things I have to tell you." He paused. "About what happened in Miami with my crew."

Abby nodded. "I know. I'll be willing to listen, but you don't have to tell me until you're ready."

"It may make you feel differently--"

"No." She placed her fingers over his own and squeezed lightly.

He could see she was highly aware of him. Could she feel the tingle running across his nerves and deep in his core. He looked deeply in her eyes for another few seconds, then smiled again. "Okay. Well then, tomorrow, nineteen-hundred."

"Tomorrow," Abby promised.

Abby nervously opened the door to her apartment to go to Oliver's. It was eighteen-forty and she was early, but she couldn't wait any longer. She giggled. She was already thinking in military time, like she was the one in the Coast Guard. She was wearing the outfit she'd been wearing on their date, without the jacket. She was hoping it would have the same effect on him tonight as it did the first night. She also had a little surprise she hoped he'd like.

When she opened the door, he was standing there. He was blindingly handsome in khakis and a buttoned-down oxford shirt. But his startling blue eyes shining with what she hoped was love, along with lust, made her catch her breath.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi, yourself," she managed. "I was just coming over...I hope I'm not late."

"No. I'm early, but I couldn't wait another minute," he said. He took her hand and carried it to his lips. He placed a soft kiss on her palm and she felt a large chunk of her heart start to melt. "This is for you. Hope you like it."

It was then she noticed the perfect, peach-colored, long-stemmed rose he was holding in his other hand. Before she could take it, he moved it in a caress across her forehead, down her cheeks and over her lips. The stroke was tender and arousing. Abby knew that, if he kept this up, she was going to be a puddle at his feet before they even got inside his apartment.

When he leaned towards her and let his lips follow the track of the rose, she was a goner. Her breath caught, and by the time his lips met hers in a kiss that was deep, soulful and full of promises, she had her arms wrapped around his neck and her body so close against his she could feel their heartbeats in perfect time.

The dull sound of the building door opening separated them a bit and he smiled gently.

"Come with me," he said, taking one hand and tucking it in the crook of his elbow. "I've got everything ready."

"I hope you didn't go to a lot of trouble. We could've just ordered in pizza or something."

"No trouble." He led her through the open door of his apartment, closing it after them.

It was pretty much what she expected--basic furnished apartment fare, except he had candles burning on all the tables in the living room and a small table set with a white linen cloth with a bottle of champagne nestled in a bucket of ice sitting to one side. She could see plates with warmer tops on them and elegant-looking silver at each setting.

He escorted her to one of the chairs and held it for her to sit.

"I see you're wearing my dress," he said.

She felt the caress of his fingers over her bare shoulder and managed to control the shiver that ran through her.

"Yes. I wanted to look special for you." She looked over her shoulder and up into his eyes. He was going to kiss her and she wanted it with every fiber in her being. He moved closer, then stopped and moved back bare inches. Abby released a sigh. He was going to take things slowly. Okay, she could do slow. She hoped.

He sat in the remaining chair. He leaned over and took the top off the first plate. On it sat a bed of shrimp and cocktail sauce. He took one and dipped it in thick sauce, then held it out to her. When she started to reach for it, he shook his head.

"Let me feed you," he whispered.

She leaned forward and he held the shrimp above her mouth. As she bit into it, she looked into his eyes. In them she saw promises she didn't dare to believe. After she took one bite, he pulled the shrimp away a bit and Abby felt some of the sauce drip onto her bottom lip. She started to lick it away, but he beat her to it, his lips and tongue doing a sensual dance against hers.

It was astonishing just how sensual it was to be fed this way, with each bite leading to shared hunger and even greater desire. By the time he had reached the last piece of shrimp, Abby was panting with desire and she didn't even take the bite he offered, going straight for his lips instead.

When they finished the appetizer, she looked at him, aroused and impatient.

"Abby, my love," he said. "I want to tell you about Miami."

"Oliver, my love," she repeated, "I want to hear about Miami as well, but first, will you let me love you?"

He smiled and she knew he was remembering when he'd asked her that question.

"Yes," he said coming back for another kiss.

Then he allowed her to stand, but only for a moment before he swung her into his arms.

"Wait a minute, this is my show," she said on a husky laugh.

"Oh, I plan to let you do all the work," he replied. "I just wanted to get us a little more comfortable."

Abby nodded. "Comfort is good."

He carried her through an apartment that mirrored her own and straight to a neat, if utilitarian, bedroom. The fact he had only just moved in was apparent with the lack of photos and mementos. But when he laid her on the bed and then began to undress, she forgot all about decorations.

"Wait," she ordered. "That's my job."

She got on her knees on the mattress and moved to the edge, where she could reach him. He'd undone the top button of his shirt and that's where she began. With each button she undid, she tasted him with her lips and tongue. Soon, his gleaming chest was covered with red lipstick outlines.

Keeping her touches light, she traced the outline of his nipples, pleased with the way Oliver shivered in response and how the hard buds tasted slightly salty with his desire when she suckled on them. When she removed the shirt completely, baring his chest to her eyes, she frowned at the sight of his scar. She moved closer and placed a gentle kiss on its center. Although he stiffened initially at the touch, he quickly relaxed.

"You sure you don't want to hear about Miami now?" he asked.

Abby could hear the desire in his gruff tone. She couldn't explain now with words, but maybe he would understand her actions.

"Later. We'll have all the time in the world later," she said.

But Abby's plan wasn't just to kiss the top half of him, as important as that was. Not wanting to be sidetracked, she moved lower. She removed his belt one loop at a time, then unsnapped and unzipped his pants. She got lost for a moment or two exploring the contours of his belly button and the way the line of hair from his chest arrowed down his washboard abs.

But soon she was back on track and kissing her way down to where his erection rose against the fabric of his briefs. She traced the outline his hard-on made with her tongue and he groaned and put his hands on her head. She thought for a moment he wanted to hold her in place, but he gently pulled her face back from his cock.