Rescue Breathing (24 page)

“
Wow. You do not disappoint, Miss
Burke.
You look
amazing,
” I call out as
the sounds of Amos Lee's
Arms of a Woman
flood the hallway.

“
Thank you for the compliment,” Olivia says
as she reaches my landing.

I usher her into my apartment and close the
door behind us.

“
Wow, great place.” she says as she walks
farther into my apartment and looks around.

When I rehabbed the building, I asked my
designer for something masculine, comfortable, and warm for my
apartment.
Luckily for
me, she read me like a well-used book and now I have a place with
an open floor plan that's rustic and, well, elegantly simple. The
colors and furnishings are masculine with woods and dark blues and
browns.

“
Thank you,” I say simply as I turn towards
her.

“
Something smells really, really good. Tell
me that's not your neighbor'
s cooking?
”
Olivia says, turning to giving me a wink.

“
It's not my neighbor's cooking. Thank you
very much for your vote of confidence in my cooking abilities, by
the way,” I reply sarcastically with a chuckle. I walk towards her,
take hold of her hips, and pull her towards me, giving her a
lingering, welcoming kiss.

“
Mmmm…you taste delicious though.” Olivia's
tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip, tasting me.

“
I hope you'
re hungry.
” I move around Olivia and take her hand, pulling her into
the kitchen with me. “I just pulled some rolls out of the oven and
the grill is ready for steaks. Would you like a glass of wine? I
have some Sauvignon Blanc chilled for you. I hope that's okay?” I
ask, pulling two wine glasses out from the top of the
cupboard.

Olivia leans against the counter as I set
down the wine glasses. “It's perfect. Thank you. I'd love a
glass.”

She scans around my chef
's kitchen complete with a subzero fridge
and double oven.  Walking around towards the set table, she
smiles, running her finger along the pressed white linens and
bending to smell the fresh flowers.

“
I'm impressed, Owen.  You went
through a lot of work for this dinner. You must be hoping I'll put
out or something,” Olivia says with a smirk.

Her comment catches me off guard and the
wine that I'm pouring absently misses the glass, dribbling onto the
countertop. “I would never assume, Olivia, but I can hope,” I reply
as I reach for a dish towel to clean up the spilled
wine.

Olivia watches me intently as I finish
pouring the wine. I hand her the glass and we clink them
together.

“
To a fun, relaxing evening,” I say. “Thank
you for joining me tonight.” Olivia smiles and nods before we each
take a first sip of wine.

“
How was the rest of your shift last night?
Have you been with the fire department long?”

“
I had a few calls during the day. It was
really nice to see you yesterday, by the way. I'm sorry I had to
ditch you like that. Hopefully my dinner and stellar company will
make up for that.” I wink at her and clink my wine glass with hers
again, like casting a penny into a fountain for good
luck.

“
To answer your question, I've been with
the department for about eight years now and this particular
firehouse for just about five. How about you?” I ask, moving to the
other side of the island to get the steaks ready for grilling. “How
long have you been a psychologist? What part of the city do you
live in?”

Olivia takes another long sip of her wine
before answering and observes me closely as I move about the
kitchen. “Well, I graduated with my Ph.D. six years ago but didn't
start doing research at NYU until, I don't know, four years or so
ago?”

I pile the two steaks onto a plate and nod my
head toward the back garden for her to follow me as she talks.

“
And I live in Chelsea right now. It's a
small apartment. Single living in the city, you know,” she
continues, letting out a halfhearted chuckle. “Anyway, you're
pretty lucky to have the roof-top apartment in this building, it's
breathtaking.”

“
Thanks.
I know the landlord.”

She slowly takes another drink and surveys
the beautifully landscaped patio complete with a massive grill and
a table with soft, plush seats. “Does your mom live in the city
too?”

No, my mom still lives in the same house I
grew up in actually
—in
Connecticut, just outside of New Haven. I've tried getting her to
move a little closer, but she chooses her big house and yard over
her kids.” I give Olivia a wink to let her know I'm kidding and she
smiles knowingly.

I arrange the steaks on the grill and take
a moment to listen to them sizzle before I grab my wine and sidle
up beside Olivia.
She's
looking out over the railing, towards the buildings and across the
Hudson River with the Brooklyn Bridge in the distance.

“
I put this little oasis together so she'd
have something to do when she visits occasionally. My sister and
her husband live on Long Island so I get to see them
semi-regularly. What's your family situation? Where do your parents
live? I know you mentioned you had a brother. Simon,
right?”

Olivia finishes the last of her wine and
sets her glass down on the table. “Yes. Simon.” she smiles, clearly
impressed that I remembered. “I grew up in New York, a little
farther upstate. My folks still live there. My father is a cop and
my mother was a stay-at-home mom. I have an older brother, Simon,
who I told you about. He and his fiancée live in the city
too.”

“
A cop, huh?
Cool.
”
He sounds like my kind of guy. We can swap stories when I meet
him.

What am I thinking?

“
My dad was a senator and my mom was a
senator's wife—a full-time job in itself.” I step around Olivia to
readjust the steaks on the grill. I take a gulp of my wine and
continue. “My younger sister, Emily, is a high school English
teacher, God knows why, and her husband is a cop on Long Island. No
kids for them yet, but I'm hoping they'll remedy that soon. I'm
gonna make a kick-ass uncle,” I grin.

Olivia looks up, like
she
's looking through me
as if deep in thought. She shakes her head and focuses back on me.
“Could I have another please?” she asks, picking up her empty wine
glass.

“
Absolutely, but I'm going to make you work
for it.” I smirk as I take her glass from her fingers. She lifts an
eyebrow and looks at me curiously. I start to walk back into the
kitchen, Olivia following close behind.

“
And just what will you make me do, Owen?”
She's cautious. Smart girl.

“
How handy are you with a knife?” I reach
around her body to grab a sharp knife from the cutlery block
sitting atop the counter. She's so close I can catch a whiff of her
shampoo. Lemon verbena may be my new favorite scent. “You cut up
the broccoli and I'll get the steamer going after I get us both
another glass of wine. Deal?”

Olivia smiles up at me and carefully takes
the knife from my fingers before turning away from me to grab a
stalk of broccoli from the colander. “I think that's a fair
exchange and one I can definitely handle." She starts to chop the
broccoli and places them in the steamer basket sitting next to her
as I refill our glasses.

I stand behind her and place her filled
glass on the counter in front of the cutting board she's using.
Leaning into her, I press my chest against her back and she goes
still, waiting for my next move. I nuzzle my nose into her luscious
hair and inhale while twirling a silky curl around my finger.
Olivia lays down the sharp knife and turns to face me. She reaches
on her tiptoes and gives me a chaste kiss on the jaw.

“
This is really nice, by the way.
 Thank you for inviting me over for dinner,” she beams,
smiling up at me. She's so close and I am so…
happy.
With that, she turns back around and resumes
chopping.

I watch her prepare the broccoli for a few
seconds and then reach around her, carefully taking the knife from
her hands and placing it on the countertop. I spin her around by
her shoulders, gathering her into my arms.

“
Ohh!” she yelps in surprise as I start to
sway with her side to side, dancing together to the soft music
playing from the stereo.

“
I know you dance, Olivia. I watched you at
the club in Seattle. Couldn't take my eyes off you. I could have
watched you all night,” I say, looking down at her.
“
I don
't dance really,” I continue, “but I just
can't seem to help myself. Whatever it takes to be a little closer
to you.” I lift my eyebrow and press my cheek to her head, bringing
her hand up to my heart and holding it there with my
own.

We sway back and forth to the music
filling the apartment, neither of us saying a word. The song ends,
and even during the dead space before the next song, we continue to
move. The next song has a quicker tempo, and as it starts to build
up, we follow suit, doing our own little jig right in the middle of
my kitchen. It's awkward, hilarious, and a shit-ton of fun. She
laughs as I make a complete fool out of myself. I swing her around,
rolling her in and out of my arms, and that's when I notice the
smoke billowing out of my grill.

“
Shit! The steaks!” I look back at Olivia
with near panic in my eyes. “We'll pick this up later.” I hold up
my index finger to excuse myself before running run out the back
door to save tonight'
s
dinner.

As I fight the smoke with my tongs, I look
into my kitchen to see Olivia doubled over in laughter. She
casually grabs her wine glass, walks to the door leading to the
backyard, and leans against the doorframe, watching as I make an
attempt to salvage the steaks. As I pull them off the grill, I
notice that the steaks aren't burned, just more well done then I
would prefer, but still perfectly edible.

“
You saved them. My hero!” she cries,
clapping her hands.

As we sit down to eat, we talk about
day-to-day things, work, and some more about our families. The
discussion is easy, enjoyable, and most importantly, fun. We have
the same sense of humor, and I feel comfortable enough to let out
my somewhat lewd side with her, knowing she won't be offended.
There are many points in the discussion where we're laughing so
hard we have to stop eating.

A bottle of wine and two helpings later, I
am stuffed. Olivia stands from the table and grabs our empty plates
to start clearing the table. I start to protest, but she holds her
hand up. “
You
cooked.
I'll clean. It's
only fair. I grew up in a democratic household,” she says with a
humph and a bit of sassiness.

I watch as Olivia maneuvers around my
kitchen like she belongs here. She rifles through drawers and
cupboards in search of a clean towel and the dish soap under the
sink. After I put away the leftovers, I stand in the doorway,
observing.

“
This wasn't exactly how I envisioned
getting you wet, Olivia.”

A dish slips from her hand into the sink
with a thud, and I see a shiver travel through her body. I walk
over and stand behind her, my body pressed against her back. I move
her hair away from her neck kiss along the warm skin, toward her
shoulder.

“
Leave the dishes. I'll do them later,” I
whisper into her hair. “Come. Have dessert with me.” I slowly pull
out the drawer beside her and grab two spoons before I walk over to
the fridge to grab a carton of decadent chocolate ice cream from
the freezer. I take her hand in mine and we walk into my living
room, an idea of how to enjoy the rest of the evening already
forming in my mind.

CHAPTER
TWENTY
-FOUR

Olivia

I grin as he pulls me toward him on the
couch in the spacious living room.
The sun has set and the room is lit with candles.
It's a romantic setting, and I'm instantly at ease. As he opens the
ice cream, I turn toward him and cross my legs. I notice that he
stops what he's doing and gets caught looking at my bare
thighs.

“
Ahem. I'm up here, you know,” I smile and
take a spoon from him. He grins knowing he's been caught staring
again. “Chocolate ice cream.
You pay attention.
I like that.” My mind floats back to our coffee date at
Jacques Torres and my daydream about Owen and chocolate. Either he
was reading my mind or there is something to the whole “soul mate”
thing.

“
Mmhmm. When it comes to important things,
I can remember.” He winks at me as he scrapes the spoon along the
side of the carton where the ice cream is softest and lifts the
spoon to my mouth. “
Open
up,
” he says,
inadvertently opening his own mouth as I open mine to take the
spoon.

I slowly slip the spoon between my lips,
sucking, and I moan as I close my mouth around it and savor the
taste.
“Mmmm...”

Oh God. There is chocolate ice cream, and
there is
chocolate
ice
cream. And he has purchased the latter.