Rescue Me (Butler Island) (20 page)

Chapter 23

It was well after three in the morning before they fell
into bed again—to sleep, that is—because after they’d lathered one another in
the shower (a bout of foreplay Randall wasn’t likely to ever forget), he’d plunged
into her body twice more.

His eyes scanned the room. Repetitive rows of bright
light traversed the lavender walls as the sun’s splendor permeated the blinds.
Overhead, the ceiling fan pirouetted unsteadily, causing a rhythmic click as
the seconds ticked by. It hadn’t been his intention to stay the night, but
holding Lana as she drifted to sleep, hearing the cadence of her soft, even
breaths, had been hard to walk away from.

And wasn’t that the crux of it. Because last night he
caught a glimpse of what a lifetime with Lana might look like: losing himself
in her heavenly body, kissing, laughing, their sated souls finally falling into
bed together with exhaustion after hours of loving. A deep ache unfurled in his
chest. He wanted this with her, wanted to make a go of it, but that couldn’t
happen.

Not now, maybe not ever.

Staring up at the whirling fan blades he pondered that.
He’d really made a mess of things. Steering clear of Lana Phillips was the
right thing to do, but even knowing this he just…
couldn’t
. He tried to
tell himself it was because of the promise he’d made to Jimmy on the brittle
forest floor back in Tate’s Hell last year, but then he’d be lying. His
presence in Lana and Connor’s life may’ve started out that way, but it was more
than that, now.

Being here didn’t feel like an obligation anymore. In
fact, he couldn’t remember the last time guilt lured him to this address. He
liked the person he was with Lana, liked that she saw him as someone worthy,
important.

Of all the women in your life, why did you have to fall
for her
?

Nothing good could come from loving his best friend’s
wife, that much he did know. Because just the mere thought of the emptiness
she’d leave behind when this thing was through warped his weary mind. Randall
pinched the bridge of his nose and clenched his eyes shut, searching his brain
for his next move. The right move.

He’d been so caught up in Lana Phillips’ spell he’d
almost believed that this thing between them was real. It wasn’t, at least not
philosophically speaking. Because there was no denying the realness of their
combustible chemistry. But believing there could be more, that he could play
the leading male role in her life, was just about the most moronic idea he’d
ever cooked up. And Lord knew how many of those he’d had over the course of his
thirty years.

“You do that every morning?”

Randall’s head snapped to the gorgeous brunette lying
beside him, hair a bit disheveled from sex and sleep. “Good morning. How long
have you been lying there awake?”

Lana turned to her side and propped her hand against her
temple. “Long enough to witness the deliberations goin’ on inside that head of
yours.”

“Which head are we talkin’ about?” He teased, but one
look into her probing blue eyes assured him she wasn’t buying his witticism
this morning.

“You know what I meant”, she uttered softly. “Does
this”—she gestured between them with her free hand—“feel weird to you? I mean,
being here, in this house—in this bed—with
me
.”

Rolling on his side to face her, he raked an unruly
strand of hair from her face with his fingertips. “It should, but for the life
of me I can’t figure out why it doesn’t. Because right now”, he mumbled against
her jaw, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And that was the God’s honest truth—no matter how sick or
twisted it was, this was exactly want he wanted.

In the next instant he rolled her beneath his hard body,
kissing her long and deep. His fingertips traipsed across her bare skin,
gradually making their way to the succulent folds at the apex of her thighs.

“Mmm, you’re so wet”, he murmured against her ear, his
finger disappearing into her body.

“I dreamt about you”, she breathed.

“Yeah? Tell me about it. What did I do to you?”

“I…y-you did…we…we were—
Omigod
,
Randall
!”
She screamed when he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

“What’s wrong, Sweetheart—having trouble multi-tasking?
Huh?” To make his point, he added a second finger while his thumb worked over
the responsive bundle of nerves at the juncture of her thighs, his mouth
simultaneously suckling her sensitive nipples, causing her to cry out in
pleasure. “Can’t think past how good I make you feel?”

Lana’s nails bit into his shoulders as her lithe body
squirmed beneath his. “Randall”, she whimpered. “I want you—that’s all I’ve
got, right now.”

“Tell me more, Sweetheart; I need to hear you say it.
What do you want?”

“You—inside me.
Please
…”

The neediness in her voice startled her for a beat, but
she didn’t waver. And when he withdrew his fingers from her body, she quickly
reached for the lone condom lying on the nightstand beside her and rolled it
down his engorged shaft.

His weight came down on her again, but instead of pushing
into her he took his time, caressing her skin with his hands and mouth. Lana’s
hips bucked in frustration, desperately seeking friction to ease the pulsing
ache between her legs.

“Huh-uh”, he whispered against her jaw. “This time we’re
going slow.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Randall chuckled under his breath. “No, but what a way to
go.” He nibbled the delicate skin along her collarbone for another minute or
so, then finally ended the torturous foreplay by sliding into her wet sex.

Randall filled her completely—physically, emotionally.
His slow, methodical thrusts, his masterful touch and endearing kisses released
something inside her, threading the final stitch in her broken heart. This
incredibly giving man had managed to close the gaping hole, his strong presence
mending the unfathomable.

And she loved him for it.

“Don’t hide”, he groaned softly. “Look at me.”

Those skillful fingers reached down between them again,
gliding over her wet flesh in soft, lazy circles, drawing the tension tighter.

“Come for me, Sweetheart. I want to watch you.”

Meeting his piercing gaze she tumbled over the peak,
raking her nails over his back, her sensual whimpers echoing off the walls of
the room.

“God, Lana”, he growled through clenched teeth as her
body pulsed around him, milking his shaft as he spilled into the latex barrier.

They’d barely recovered when the sound of her mother’s
voice echoed from the living room. “
Lana
…?”

Sharing a quick holy-shit expression, they scrambled out
of bed in search of cover. Randall snatched his jeans, then dashed into the
bathroom, his broad shoulders crashing into the door jamb before shutting the
door behind him.

“
Lana
!” Her mother called again.

“Be right out!” She fed her arms through a white
terrycloth robe, cinched the sash around her waist, and opened the door,
desperately taming her wild mane with her fingertips as she journeyed to the
living room.

She was mortified to find Connor sitting on the couch
sucking on a Blow Pop, her mother righting the kitchen chair that’d been
knocked over the night before when Randall had charged at her during her strip
tease. But that wasn’t the worst of it, because when the chair was finally
upright, her mother bent to pick up the note Lana scribbled last night,
directing Randall into position.

This was awkward.

“Hi, Sweetheart”, Lana said to her son. “Did you have
fun?”

Connor popped the purple sucker from his mouth and
nodded. “Want some?”

“No, thanks.” Lana turned to her mother. “I, um… I
thought you were bringing him by around noon.”

“It
is
noon.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize, I guess.”

Her mother’s accusing eyes narrowed a bit as if to say:
obviously
not
,
considering you were preoccupied
.

“Connor, why don’t you finish your sucker in the kitchen?
I’ll be there in a few minutes to clean your sticky hands. I need to speak to
Nana about something.” Connor leapt off the couch with a buoyant step. “Don’t
bite down on the candy, all right? Don’t want you to choke.”

“I won’t”, he hollered back a second before a loud crunch
sounded from the entrance to the kitchen.

Lana blew a slow, steady stream of air from her lungs,
both from frustration of her son’s disobedience and the uncomfortable
conversation she was moments away from having with her mother.

Lauren Crawford waited until her grandson was out of
earshot, then launched into her investigation. “Who’s here?”

“Nobody—”

“Lana Kay, a woman doesn’t make sounds like that when
she’s alone.”

“It’s the twenty-first century, Mom—you’d be surprised.”

Her mother crossed her arms as surprise swept over her
face. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that”, she finally uttered on a sigh.

“Sorry.”

Her mother’s laser-like stare assessed her again. “I take
it he’s someone I know?—Someone Jimmy knew?” Lana nodded feebly. “Oh, honey,
what are you doing? Do you have any idea what this’ll do to your
reputation?—How your carelessness might affect Connor?”

Lana felt anger boil inside her. “So what am I supposed
to do, Mom? Spend the rest of my life alone? Give up hope of ever being happy
again?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying—”

“Then what am I supposed to do? Since you think you’re
suddenly an expert on the subject, you tell me.”

“I never claimed to be an expert, Lana. I just don’t want
you to do anything rash without first thinking about the possible outcome.” Her
mother stepped closer, placing her hands on Lana’s shoulders, softening her
tone. “Maybe this is the right thing for you. I don’t have a crystal ball,
honey; I can’t see what tomorrow will bring. But you have to take into
consideration there’s also a possibility this whole thing could backfire. Are
you prepared for that?” she asked worriedly. “Because no matter how much time
has passed, the people loyal to Jimmy aren’t going to like the idea of you
moving on.”

She’s right—especially when they discover who you’ve been
moving on with
.

“Just promise me you’ll give this relationship some
thought and prepare yourself for what happens if things go—”

“Hey, Randall”, Connor yelled excitedly after popping the
sucker from his mouth. “Wanna see my tongue?”

Lana’s eyes darted away from her mother’s, quickly
landing on the broad silhouette lurking in the shadows of the hallway.

“You’ve got a purple tongue, Squirt.” She heard the shadow
say.

Lana winced as her mother slowly turned her heard to
glance over her shoulder.

This is bad—really bad
!

But Lauren Crawford made no mention of the man
eavesdropping in Lana’s hallway. Instead, she pulled her daughter  in for a hug
before reaching for her purse on the end table. “I put a casserole in your
fridge. It’s a new recipe. Give me a call after dinner and let me know whatcha
think.”

And then she was gone, leaving Lana to pore over her
mother’s prudent plea.

Chapter 24

Lana spent the remainder of April and most of May gearing
up for the first annual charity auction in her late husband’s honor. A myriad
of details had immediately demanded her attention once the venue site had been
chosen. She had to take into consideration crowd size, refreshments, auctioneer
fee, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

After speaking with much of the island it was determined
that nearly all eleven-hundred residents were planning to attend, which had
made offering refreshments a bit of a problem. Luckily the local Senior
Committee offered to provide lemonade and bottled water, and Chief Handler had
volunteered the fire department to serve hotdogs to hungry bidders, leaving the
city only responsible for the cost incurred by the auctioneer.

Day after day, Lana had marched into local businesses
asking for donations for the upcoming auction. She’d already managed to collect
a wide range of interesting items from the businesses located on the island,
but it still wasn’t enough. She wanted the charity event to be a tremendous
success; couldn’t wait to present the Public Service Society with a sizable
check. Just thinking about all the good the organization could do with that
money made her heart sing with pride.

Lana eyed the clock, noting she still had nearly forty-five
minutes until her normal workday ended. She’d planned to venture to the
mainland after work and convince more businesses to support the Public Service
Society by donating items and services to the charity auction, but seeing how
her inbox was completely empty at the moment she figured maybe she could get a
head start.

Rising from her desk she peered through the mayor’s
opened door. “Got a minute?”

Mayor Cliffburg glanced from the document he’d been
poring over since lunch and smiled. “For you, always. My eyes could actually
use the break.” He gestured to the twin winged-back chairs positioned in front
of his desk and waited for her to take a seat. “Everything all right?”

“Um, yeah, everything’s great.”

He eyed her curiously for a stretch, almost as if he was
trying to solve a riddle. “Good. Glad to hear it. And how’re the donations
coming along for the auction?”

“Well, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

The mayor leaned his back against the expensive leather,
bracing his cheek with one of his manicured hands. “All right, let’s hear it.”

“Frankly, I’ve managed to get donations from just about
every business within city limits—a whole range of items and services,
actually. But I know we can do better. I was thinking of involving businesses on
the mainland. It’d be an opportunity for them to show support for a local
charity and draw new customers to their businesses—an invaluable marketing
strategy, if you ask me.”

A smile splayed across his lips. “I think it’s brilliant.
You really have a knack for this kind of work, Lana. I really mean that.”

“Thanks”, she uttered quietly. “It’s a great cause and—”

“Yes, but it’s more than that. You have this way about
you—an innocence… It speaks to people.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome…So, you headed to the mainland tonight?”

“Well since things are kind of slow at the moment, I was
hoping to get a head start. Maybe drive to Apalachicola right now?”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. In fact”—he leaned
forward—“why don’t I accompany you this evening? Teaming up with the mayor
could entice more donations.”

Lana tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Um, yeah,
sure.”

“Excellent”, he announced cheerfully as he rose from his
chair. “How ‘bout I drive—we can pound the pavement, grab a bite to eat, then
I’ll swing you back by afterward to get your car.”

A brisk, eerie chill swept over her spine, raising the
hair on the back of her neck. She shivered slightly, recalling having felt the
frigid bite once or twice before.

Stress. That’s likely what it’d stemmed from.

She’d been cast into a highly strenuous role. And as
thankful as she was for the opportunity to raise funds for the organization,
bestowing a heroic legacy upon Jimmy’s name, she couldn’t deny the task had
caused many sleepless nights.

Of course, Randall had been partly to blame for that as
well.

“Lana?”

“Yes?”

“You ready?”

“Yeah, I’ll get my purse.”

“The auction will benefit the Public Service Society, a
non-profit organization aimed at helping injured public service workers, like
firemen and police officers, and their families. And…” Lana steeled her spine
with a deep breath. “If the worker dies as a result of his injuries, the
organization lends support to the widow.”

“That sounds real nice, ma’am”, said the owner of
Jetson’s Jingles, a small gift store in Apalachicola specializing in homemade
jewelry. “I’d like to help—really, I would—but business is pretty slow these
days. Tourism’s down, which directly affects my bottom line.”

Lana tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled.
“Mr. Jetson—”

“Please, call me David.”

“Okay, David, I understand business has been slow. And
helping a complete stranger seems impractical when you’re struggling to make
ends meet too…” Clearing her throat, she continued, “The proceeds for this
auction will help people like me, David. My husband was killed last year from
injuries he sustained in the Tate’s Hell brush fire.”

David reached for his chest in surprise. “That was
your
husband?” Lana nodded feebly. “I’m… I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. I can’t tell you how shocked I was to find
the fire department chief and my husband’s best friend at my door step that
evening. Even more shocking was the sudden realization that my husband wasn’t
coming home. Frankly the first week or two after the accident was… a blur. But
once the new bill cycle regenerated, I realized I had a whole new set of
problems...”

Mayor Cliffburg was in awe. Lana was slowly reeling David
in, inch by inch. The owner seemed kind enough—a law abiding citizen, turning
his talent for making jewelry into profit. The recession had affected Florida
tourism. Snow birds from up north, majority of whom lived on fixed incomes,
hadn’t migrated to the mild Gulf Coast last winter, and Jetson’s Jingles, like
many other businesses along the Panhandle, had surely suffered.

He knew, deep down, David wanted to help. He just needed
to be convinced there was something in it for him.

“So you see, David, donating several pieces not only
benefits families like mine, it also benefits you. Because not only will
bidders see your beautiful creations, they’ll also be made aware of your
generosity. And you may not know this”, she uttered quietly as she leaned over
the jewelry counter for emphasis, cupping her hand around her mouth, “but word
travels fast on Butler Island. And you know what they say: word-of-mouth is one
of the most credible forms of advertising—not to mention, it’s virtually free.”

That assessment definitely seemed to intrigue the owner.
David chewed on the information for several beats, tapping his fingertips
against the glass jewelry display. Knowing she likely had David exactly where
she wanted him, Lana remained silent, allowing her powerful argument to take
root.

The woman was a born negotiator. She knew how to play her
cards—when to push, and when to bite her tongue. And not for the first time
that evening, Mayor Cliffburg wondered if she was like that in the bedroom. Did
she give as good as she got? Was she a wildly fearless lover, disguised in an
innocently beautiful package? He intended to find out.

“Well, you make a valid point, young lady. I could sure
use a boost in sales. Guess it doesn’t make a difference whether business is
local or tourist-driven as long as it is business. Know what I mean?”

“Yes, I do.”

David eyed them for another stretch then reached his hand
over the jewelry display. “All right, I guess I can donate a few pieces for the
auction.”

Lana placed her dainty hand in David’s and gave it a firm
shake. “Thank you so much! I promise, you won’t regret this decision.”

Crimson stained David’s cheek at her praise. The man was
putty in Lana’s small, delicate hands. No surprise there. She’d turned on the
charm, related her personal experience with the organization, put a face on the
difference the association could make in one’s life as a result of selfless
people like him.

Brilliant.

“Wait right here while I get everything ready.”

David retreated to the back of the store, leaving Lana
and Mayor Cliffburg alone. As soon as the owner disappeared behind a curtain of
hand-threaded beads her bravado deflated, her shoulders sagging noticeably
lower than they had been mere moments ago. “That was close”, she uttered under
her breath. “For a moment there, I thought no amount of convincing would sway
him.”

“Want to know what I think?” He asked, nudging an unruly
lock of milk chocolate hair from her eye. “I think you don’t give yourself
enough credit. You’re a force to be reckoned with, Lana Phillips. Frankly, the
man didn’t stand a chance.”

Lana chuckled softly and smiled. “I suppose not.” Then
her smile slowly faded as if she were recalling a long forgotten memory. “Jimmy
used to say I could talk a person into just about anything as long as I could
find an ounce of logic behind it.”

Yes, he could see that. He could also see his usual
tactics weren’t going to woo Lana Phillips into his bed. Nope, she was far too
sharp to fall for that. What he needed was finesse—get her talking about her
late husband, get her to briefly revisit the utter despair she’d suffered. And
when she suddenly needed someone to console her, she’d turn to him.

Mayor Cliffburg stole a peek at his silver Burberry
watch, noting the time: six-o-eight. This was it. Tonight he’d finally make his
move. “Listen, why don’t we grab a bite to eat? I spotted an Italian restaurant
across the street. I can head over and grab us a table while you wait for Mr.
Jetson’s donations.”

There was a long stretch of silence, made all the longer
by the way she chewed on her bottom lip. “Okay”, she said finally. “A quick
bite, then I have to get back to my car and head home.”

“Of course.”

He resisted the urge to pump his fist in the air once or
twice in victory as he pushed through the glass door of Jetson’s Jingles. He’d
managed to get over the first hurdle: getting her to agree to have dinner with
him. But Lana wasn’t the type of woman he could simply wine and dine—at least,
not entirely. It was time to set his well-thought ploy into action.

“Good evening, sir. One?” The young hostess asked as he
approached the black podium in the lobby of Leo’s Italiano.

The mayor shook his head and gestured with his fingers.
“Two, and we’d like your most private, romantic table, please.”

“Certainly. Right this way…”