Rescue Me (Butler Island) (16 page)

Chapter 19

“Hey, stranger”, Kendall greeted as she rounded the
corner at aisle three, her three-inch heels tapping against the white-speckled
linoleum floor.

Shit
.
Busted
…

Turning his body, Randall eyed the woman he’d spent
nearly two years of his life obsessing over. “Sorry, Ken, I was sort of in a
hurry. Nothing personal.”

 “I can’t believe you actually tried to sneak in here
without sa—
Omigod
,
Randall
! What happened to your shoulder?”

“It’s nothing. Just a little gash.”

Kendall stepped closer, gently bracing her hands on his
solid body. His white T-shirt was smeared with dirt and sweat, and the rather
substantial red stain along the top of his sleeve clearly challenged his
“little gash” tale.

“Honey, little gashes don’t bleed like that! Why didn’t
you go to the hospital? You’re most likely gonna need stitches.”

Randall shook his head from side-to-side. “I’m fine—just
need an antiseptic and some steri-strips.”

“But—”

“No hospital, no stitches, all right?” He retorted,
surely, harshly, noting how she flinched. The moment he’d uttered the words, he
wanted them back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Kendall reached for a bottle of Bactine, a
package of steri-strips, gauze and tape, then turned to Randall. “Well if
you’re not gonna go to the hospital, at least let me help you clean up. Come
with me; we can do this in my office.”

Randall followed her down the aisle and behind the
pharmacy counter, acknowledging her assistant, Marcus, with a firm nod. They
ventured down one of the narrow passages that led to her office, various
bottles of medication situated in perfect rows to his left and right. “Slow
day?”

“Yeah, why?” She asked as she opened her office door.

Randall gestured to the shelves. “Looks like it was an
OCD
kind of day.”

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Randall Wade Burns,
because I’m about to get ‘
OCD’
on that
little gash of yours”, she lectured, clutching the various first aid items
she’d snatched from aisle three moments ago against her chest. “Take your shirt
off and have a seat.”

Stepping into her modest-sized office, Randall gathered
the hem of his white T-shirt and carefully drew it over his shoulder, wincing
when he raised his left arm above his head. He then balled the cotton tee in
his fists and took a seat.

“How on earth did this happen?” Inquired Kendall as she
tore into the package of sterile gauze.

“Tree trimming.” He still couldn’t believe this’d
happened. He’d been so careful balancing on a sturdy branch, slicing into a
smaller limb positioned just above his head. The chainsaw ripped into the wood
like a hot knife carving into butter. Easy. Effortlessly.

But mere moments before the saw severed the branch, the
weight of the leaves at the other end caused the wood to snap prematurely. The
segment he’d been cutting suddenly jerked upward, then swung down toward him
with calculated vengeance. There was no time to react—no time to dodge the
solid branch as it barreled toward him, slicing into his shoulder before
finally falling to the ground. Thankfully he’d had enough sense to anchor his
body to the trunk. A twenty-five foot fall would’ve undoubtedly caused a bigger
injury than this.

“Tree trimming?” She asked incredulously. “Well, obviously
the tree got its revenge.”

Randall chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you could say th—
son
of a bitch
!” He bellowed as sharp, fiery jolts of electricity surged down
his arm toward his fingertips. Glancing over his shoulder, he eyed the bottle
of Bactine Kendall held in her hand. “Thought that shit had Lidocaine in it?”

“It does.”

Tilting his head back for a moment, he clenched his eyes
shut and drew in a deep breath. “Damn, that hurt.”

“I’m sorry. I just figured it’d be better if I just did
it without warning you first.” Leaning forward, Kendall pursed her lips and
gently blew on the gaping wound. “Better yet?”

There was a time, not so long ago, when the sensation of
her breath on his skin would have sent him into a reckless tailspin. He’d
lusted after Kendall Porter for nearly two years, for heaven’s sake! She’d been
one of his best friends and had held the starring role in his fantasies every
one of those seven-hundred-thirty nights.

Until roughly three and a half months ago.

Because a new woman had been cast in that role. A woman
with midnight eyes, long brown hair, and vanilla-scented skin; a heavenly woman
with an uncanny ability of ensnaring his highly-regarded self-control,
transforming him into a living, breathing sex fiend.

A woman utterly clueless about the effect she had on him.

“Yeah, the Lidocaine must be kickin’ in, now.” Randall
closed his eyes while Kendall gently wiped away the dried blood that’d settled
around the wound.

“So whose tree should I send the bill to?” She teased as
she tossed a red-stained gob of gauze into the nearby bio-hazard bin.

“Lana’s.”

“
Oh
…”

Head still leaning against the back of the chair, Randall
opened one of his eyes at Kendall. “Okay, spill it. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing”, she quickly countered. But she should’ve known
better. Because suddenly she was the recipient of
The
Look
:
Randall’s bullshit detector. A three inch gash in his shoulder and the man
could still make her practically sing what was on her mind.

“Okay, so maybe it isn’t
nothing
… I heard about
what happened yesterday at the fire station between you and Tommy.”

“Your husband has a big mouth.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t almost get into a fight with
one of your good friends yesterday?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Babe.”

Kendall opened the steri-strips and carefully placed them
perpendicularly across the deep laceration, and when that was done, she covered
the wound with a mound of four-inch gauze pads.

“Does Lana know?” He asked softly, finally breaking the
awkward silence.

“Yeah.”

Great
.
Fucking great
.

He’d sort of hoped his outburst would’ve remained
unnewsworthy. But this was Butler Island, after all; gossip in this town was as
steady and reliable as the changing tides.

“What’s going on with you, Rand? You used to tell me
everything. But now…”

“Just…stuff, Babe. Stuff I can’t get into right now.” His
answer seemed to satisfy her. For now. Because he knew she sensed something was
going on with him—hell, aside from Jimmy, she was the one person that probably
knew him best. And right now, she knew he was hiding something. “You done?”

Kendall added one last piece of tape to hold the gauze in
place. “I am now.”

Standing, Randall turned toward her, kissing her
forehead. “Thanks for your help, Babe.”

“Anytime”, she whispered, gently wrapping her arms around
his neck. “I worry about you, you know.”

“Don’t. I’m okay.
Really
okay.”

And it was the truth. Because at that moment Randall
suddenly realized he wasn’t in love with Kendall Porter. That realization
should’ve been welcoming news.

Trouble was he’d fallen for Lana. Hard. Fast.

And he was in way too deep to simply walk away, now.

This is all my fault”, said Lana as she stared at the
gaping wound on Randall’s upper arm, located just below the bony protuberance
of his left shoulder. “I never should’ve agreed to let you climb up there
today.”

“That tree needed to be trimmed back after what happened
last night, remember?”

“Yes, but I could’ve hired someone—a professional.”

Randall took a seat on the wooden stool in front of the
small vanity and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “And you would’ve
easily spent a couple grand, too.”

“I don’t care about the money, Randall. You could’ve…”

Died. She didn’t say it aloud, but then again she didn’t
need to; it was written all over her pretty face. It hadn’t occurred to him,
until now, that his brush with danger earlier this afternoon could’ve spelled
death. If that branch had sliced into his Jugular, it would’ve demolished Lana.
Just thinking about how she would’ve reacted to the news made his chest ache.

“So what am I supposed to do?” She asked after carefully
removing the saturated gauze he’d arrived with.

Snatching the bottle of Bactine off the counter, he
handed it to her. “Pour this over the wound, then pat it dry with some gauze.”
Randall clenched his teeth, bracing his body for the fiery jolt that would soon
race down his arm, igniting his nerves in an incandescent blaze until the
numbing agent, Lidocaine, took effect. He groaned softly as the cool liquid
collided against the three-inch groove.

“Omigod—I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine”, he managed feebly. “Just stings like hell at
first.”

Reaching for the pile of gauze on the vanity, Lana began
gently patting the wound dry. “How did you manage to bandage this yourself?”

“I didn’t—Kendall helped.”

Lana stilled for a few long beats, catching Randall’s
gaze in the mirror, then quickly grabbed the tape off the counter, securing the
dry gauze pads to his bare clean skin.

Randall carefully observed her reflection. She was
desperately attempting to appear as though his running to Kendall didn’t bother
her. But clearly it did.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“Really?—Then you probably get how upset I am that you
didn’t go to the hosp—

“That isn’t it. And you know it.” Randall sighed,
suddenly feeling guilty—like he needed to clarify how he’d ended up shirtless
in Kendall’s office today. “Look, I didn’t purposely seek out Kendall today. I
was—”

“You don’t owe me any explanations, Randall “, she
uttered softly as she concentrated on her nails, feverishly chipping away at
her violet polish.

“Look at me.” He waited until her head lifted, her eyes
targeting his in the mirror’s reflection. “I don’t have feelings for Kendall
anymore. Not like that. Not like I used to.”

“That’s… that’s not what I was—”

Randall turned his body one-hundred-eighty degrees on the
small wooden stool so that Lana now stood between his legs. He gently tugged on
her waist, drawing her closer, then looked up into her pretty face. “Yeah, you
were…”

One of his thumbs trailed across the hem of her thin tank
top until he managed to slip underneath the green ribbed cotton. The moment his
callused thumb caressed the soft skin of her stomach, she inhaled a quick
breath as though the mere sensation of his gentle touch was beyond pleasurable.

Like she’d been aching for it all day.

Gathering the hem in his fists, he drew the material up
further, revealing the jeweled navel ring he loved so much. He watched as her
chest expanded, then retracted, rapidly, over and over, feverishly anticipating
his next move. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”

“
Me
?—
beautiful
?”

“Yeah.
You
.” Unable to curb the overwhelming need
mounting inside him, he bent his head forward, kissing her belly, slowly
migrating upward until he reached the bottom curve of one of her breasts. Her
hands were in his hair, gripping, holding him steady.

Like there was somewhere else he’d rather be
,
right
now
.

Nipping her pink nipple, he raked his teeth gently over
the hard nub, drawing out the breathy moan that’d haunted him for nearly
forty-eight hours, then sucked the delicacy in his mouth again. “Feel good,
Sweetheart?—huh?” he graveled softly. “Does it make you wet? Does it make you
want to sit on my cock, right now?”

“
Y-yes
.”

With a low carnal groan Randall possessively palmed her
sweet ass lifting her feet off the ground, settling Lana onto his lap so that
her legs straddled his powerful thighs.

Careful not to bump his injured shoulder, Lana clung to
him, likely both surprised and turned on by his sudden loss of control. Nose to
nose, they paused for a moment, looking into one another’s eyes, breathing the
same air. And when the pull became too strong, their mouths met in an
all-consuming kiss.

Lana palmed the sides of his unshaven face, tilting her
head a bit to deepen the kiss while her hips slowly rocked, grinding her sex
against his hard rod in an attempt to ease the pleasurable ache.

The sensual glide of her hips beneath his hands
threatened his sound mind, which was pretty ironic considering his thoughts
tended to be rather flawed and dirty where Lana was concerned. Tearing his
mouth away from her lips he trailed hot, moist kisses over her chin, down the
hollow of her throat, stopping occasionally to nip her vanilla-scented flesh
with his teeth.