Rescue Me (Butler Island) (26 page)

“I still have a few moves you haven’t seen yet, you
know.”

“
Yet
?” One of Lana’s dark brows raised before her
eyes raked over his wounded body. “I don’t think you’re in the best condition
to—”

“I think I can still manage”, he commented wryly. “It
would have to take a full body cast to keep me from showing you.” Hell, just
the thought of sinking into Lana’s sweet body right now had blood suddenly
rushing south. At least he knew everything still worked.

Staring at her hands, Lana’s expression gradually turned
serious. There was definitely something on her mind. And with a multitude of
misfortunes in the last twenty-four hours alone, her weary brain had been
working overtime. “A penny for your thoughts…”

Silence stretched for a few beats, leaving him to wonder
whether she’d answer. “I ran into Jenny this morning”, she finally murmured.

“Really?”

Lana nodded. She explained how the mayor had pitched the
idea to Jenny, offering her Lana’s position at city hall in return for her
performance.

“What makes you think she’s telling the truth? She’d
probably say just about anything to—”

“She engaged the mayor in a very incriminating conversation
this morning and got it all on tape… That’s actually why it took me so long to
get to you today; I loaded the audio on the town’s website.”

Lana shrugged as if bringing down corrupt politicians was
all in a day’s work. “Jimmy never liked the guy”, she shared, picking at the
remnants of coral polish leftover from the night before. “Guess now I know
why...”

Living beings tend to overcomplicate things. Doesn’t have
to be that way, though. The secret to life really is simple. It all comes down
to love: the love you give and the love others give you.

It was time—hell, past time—to tell her how he really
felt. Jimmy was right: the secret to life is love. And he planned on giving his
to Lana until his last breath. “I saw him, you know.”

“Who, the mayor?”

“No…
Jimmy
.” Set to a timer, the blood pressure
cuff tightened around his left bicep with a low hum. He stared into Lana’s
hopeful gaze until the cuff hissed, slipping into a slumber-like phase

“How’d...how’d he look?”

Just one of the many things he loved about this woman. He
knew how crazy it probably sounded, and to most people what he’d experienced
had been nothing more than a dream, a vivid hallucination brought on by the
narcotic cocktail he’d received after paramedics extracted him from his mangled
Ford.

But not Lana. Because irrational or not, she believed
him.

“He looked good—sarcastic as ever, too. He couldn’t help
but point out how he’d rescued me for the second time.” Lana covered her mouth
with her fingertips, but the half-laugh/half-sob escaped anyhow. “He asked me
if I was in love with you.”

“And what di-did you tell him?”

“The truth…” Randall palmed her face, wiping a fleeing
tear with the pad of his thumb. “Because I am. Have been for a long time.”

The hint of a smile curved her lips. “This you or the
drugs talkin’?” she teased.

Randall chuckled under his breath, the subtle vibration
reminding him immediately of his injuries. “Ahhh… don’t make me laugh”, he
managed, smiling. “It hurts.”

“I’m so sorry!” she amended. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay. For the first time in a long time, everything
feels… okay.”

“Just
okay
?” she asked, nibbling on her bottom
lip.

Randall carefully tugged her a little closer, planting a
soft kiss to the sweet spot just below her right ear. “Better than okay:
perfect…”

Pulling back slightly, Lana’s blue gaze homed in on his.
“You know… I’ve always believed life was deliberate, that the highs and lows we
experience are mapped out far in advance. That people enter and exit our lives
for a reason. And so for the life of me, I couldn’t understand how losing Jimmy
fit into that equation. It just seemed so… random.”

Wiping a falling tear, she smiled. “But I think I get it,
now”, she whispered. “Jimmy rescued you that day, making it possible for you to
rescue me.”

He’d never thought of it that way, but maybe she was
partly right. Because through the tragedy of losing Jimmy, he and Lana had
discovered each other. They’d managed to transform something awful and
unfathomable into something beautiful and treasured. “You know, as your
rescuer, you owe me.”

“That so? And what is it that you want, Randall Burns?”

His eyes followed his fingers as he nudged a lock of
light brown hair that’d fallen across her left cheek. “You… Forever…”

The next few seconds felt like centuries. He searched her
delicate features for clues as to what she was thinking, but her expression
gave nothing away.

“You sure about that?” she finally asked. “Because it’s
not just me—Connor and I are
sort of
a package deal.”

“Good. Because I was
sort of
counting on that. I
love Connor… and I love you, too.” Lana silently chewed on her bottom lip for a
few beats, her midnight eyes connecting with his. “You’re killing me, here”, he
whispered.

Finally, a hint of a smile.

“
Me
?” she asked, placing her palm against her
chest. “
Forever
?”

“Please.”

“A simple thank you won’t suffice?”

Randall’s head gently shook from side-to-side as another
bout of silence slipped between them. And then…

“Well… since you said ‘please’, I guess I can’t refuse.”

Not willing to give Lana another second to rethink his
marriage proposal, Randall pressed his lips against her soft, smiling mouth.
The moment he tasted her, he wanted more. Tilting his head, he deepened the
kiss just as the pad of his thumb brushed against the front of her white
blouse.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she mumbled against his
mouth.

With a wry grin, Randall grazed the hard nub again. “
Multi-tasking
…”

Epilogue

“The end.”

Randall closed the book he’d been reading and placed it
on the wood nightstand. Connor had dozed halfway through the story, but Randall
had pressed on, anyhow. Tugging on the covers, he hauled the sports-themed
quilt over Connor’s shoulders and shuffled to the door, killing the light with
a flip of a switch before quietly closing the door behind him.

Tucking Connor into bed had become a nightly ritual. The
little squirt really seemed to enjoy it, and truth be told, so did Randall.

Reading to him took roughly five minutes, but for five
minutes every night, Randall felt Jimmy’s presence—like he was actually there,
listening to the story alongside Connor, smiling his signature ear-to-ear grin.

The notion resonated with him.

Trekking into the kitchen, he poured a glass of white
zinfandel and snagged a Miller Lite from the fridge, closing the door with his
left foot.

Roughly three months post-op his limp was barely noticeable,
the four-inch scar along the outside of his left ankle looking better every
day. The pink ridge was a constant reminder of how close he’d come to death;
how grateful he was to be alive. He’d just placed Lana’s wine on the coffee
table when she appeared at the front door.

“Honey, I’m home”, she teased as her purse strap slid
down her arm. Placing the faux leather bag on the entry table, she gestured to
the glass, “That for me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. After the day I had, I need a drink.” Scooping the
pink concoction into her hand she caught the glass between her lips, swallowing
a sip before collapsing onto the couch next to him. Planting a brief peck on
Randall’s lips, she swallowed another sip of white zinfandel. “Connor
sleeping?”

“Yeah, just tucked him in about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Did he make it to the end this time?”

Randall took a pull from his Miller Lite and shook his
head, “Only halfway.”

She angled her body to face him, propping her elbow
against the back of the couch. “You know, for the first time ever, I think he
actually looks forward to bedtime. He loves it when you read to him.”

“Me too.” He felt Lana’s smile all the way to his toes.
God,
she was really somethin’
. A brilliant blend of angelic beauty, easy
confidence and effortless grace. “So, how’d it go tonight?”

“Surprisingly well, actually. I only had to interrupt the
meeting twice to make reference to the agenda.”

Michael Cliffburg resigned as Mayor of Butler Island less
than a week after his devious plot was exposed on the town’s website. Betrayed
by their acclaimed leader, residents had all but forgotten the subject matter
of Jenny’s outburst at the inaugural
Jimmy Phillips, Jr. Charity Auction
and had chosen instead to focus their requital on the man that’d orchestrated
it. With the town’s executive chair vacant, a special election had been
conducted in early July, awarding Debbie Handler the uncontested title of Madam
Mayor.

Residents embraced her platform of honesty and integrity,
believing Debbie’s transparent-approach to governing was just what the small
island had been lacking in their former leader. Because whether one liked what
she had to say or not, no one could deny that Chatty Debbie was a straight
shooter. She told it like it was—
often in great detail
.

“So she only went off-topic twice, eh? Not too bad for
her first city commission meeting.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could’ve been much worse”, she agreed
before swallowing another sip of wine. Setting the glass on the coffee table,
she kicked off her navy heels and tucked her legs underneath her. “I mean, the
woman can change subjects on you in the blink of an eye! One minute, she was
discussing the budget for the Oyster Festival next month, and the next thing I
know she was advising everyone to be on the lookout for peeping Toms.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Setting his beer beside her
wine glass, he hauled her onto his lap, her legs flanking his powerful thighs.
“Oysters are an aphrodisiac, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.” Wiggling her bottom against the hard
bulge expanding behind his fly, Lana captured her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Mmm, did somebody have oysters for dinner tonight?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t need any help in that department,
thank-you-very-much. Just lookin’ at you gets me hard.” His hands disappeared
beneath the hem of her white dress, sweeping up her smooth legs. When he
reached the apex of her thighs, he found her hot core already wet.

“What do we have here?” he asked as the pad of his thumb
brushed the damp satin of her panties. “Looks like maybe somebody else had
oysters.”

“I don’t like oysters”, she practically moaned, gently
rocking her hips.

“That so?”

“Yes.”

“What
do
you like, then?”

“This… You being here…
Us
…”

Randall observed her through hooded eyes, noting how her
heavy lids mirrored his own. Lana’s lips parted on a sigh as she ground her wet
core against him. Firm. Steady. Slow. He could sense her heat through his fly,
could feel his denim jeans dampen with her sweet honey.

Thick strands of silky caramel hair surrounded him as her
lips drew nearer, tickling his face. The immensity of Lana’s beauty punched him
in the gut, sending shockwaves of tenderness, gratitude, and warmth surging
across his body.

Because he was living the dream.

A dream he prayed he never woke from.

A note from the author:

To my readers,

Thank you for spending time with me and the characters of
Butler Island. It has truly been an unforgettable journey for me and I hope it
was for you, as well.

For roughly sixteen months my mind inhabited the small
island: helping Olivia Everitt overcome her fear of commitment in
Picture
Perfect
, guiding Kendall Porter down a path of personal and professional
bliss in
Addicted to You
, and finally ending with the difficult journey
Lana Phillips faced after the sudden death of her husband in
Rescue Me
.

Though the characters were imaginary, their struggles are
real. And that’s precisely what I wanted: for readers to feel a connection—to
feel they could relate to the insecurities and strife plaguing the lives of the
characters in this series.

I hope I was able to accomplish that on some level.

This trilogy will always hold a special place in my
heart, as will each and every one of you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you
!

Until we meet again,

Nikki Rittenberry