Rescue Me (Butler Island) (7 page)

This was beyond embarrassing— it was downright
humiliating
!
Why did she have to be so darn clumsy? Hadn’t she suffered enough? The sudden
need to grab the rest of her belongings and flee the confines of Randall’s
truck washed over her.

Stretching her body over the console, she reached for a
tube of pink gloss that’d settled near the gas pedal, completely oblivious that
Randall was reaching for the same item, until his fingers covered hers. His
hands were rough, big, dwarfing her dainty digits. Slowly her eyes traveled up
his chiseled forearm, past his broad shoulders, finally landing on two curious
gray eyes. His steel-colored orbs were focused on hers, their faces inches
apart. They sat motionless, frozen, breathing the same air—so close she caught
a hint of tequila on his breath.

Lana swallowed hard, then licked her suddenly dry lips
(something Randall had clearly noticed, seeing that his eyes had averted to her
mouth). Energy charged between them, pure, electric, rooting their bodies. She
waited for the moment when the strength of it became too powerful, when the
pull weakened their resistance. And just when she thought he’d close the
distance between them, Randall did something completely unexpected: He nudged
the tube of gloss into her palm, clearing his throat as he quickly pulled away.

“There you go.”

“Uh, thanks”, she managed feebly. Shoving the gloss in
her purse, she scrambled to find the door handle with quaking hands.

“Let me walk you to the—”

“No! I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” With the passenger door
finally open, she carefully climbed down. “Thanks again…” Shoving the heavy
door she pivoted, allowing Randall’s headlights to guide her up the weed-filled
path to her front porch. Once inside she let go of the breath she’d been
holding, leaning her back against the front door until her wobbly knees could
support her weight.

She’d mull over the details of tonight in the morning,
when the sun’s splendor focused light on what’d almost happened moments ago in
Randall’s truck. She didn’t want to think about it right now. Right now she
wanted her flannel pajamas and a big bowl of Cap’n Crunch. And then a good
night’s sleep in her lonely king-size bed.

Chapter 10

A pounding headache and a throbbing hard-on greeted
Randall the moment his weary eyes opened. Neither was an unusual occurrence,
really. But the pretty brunette with eyes like the midnight sky who’d starred
in his lascivious dream had certainly been a first. Lana had seeped into his
unconscious mind with her plump pink lips, spellbinding curves, and fuck-me
boots. Closing his eyes, he briefly replayed the vivid fantasy in his mind
again.

“
I want you
,
Randall Burns
.”

Lana suddenly appeared before him, fingers twirling the
ends of her long brown hair. His eyes lowered to her breasts, barely contained
in a blue lace bra, down the contours of her stomach, to the shimmering
rhinestone dangling from her navel.

God, help him. He was a sucker for pierced navels
.

His eyes continued south, caressing the sweet curve of
her feminine hips, adorned with matching panties. Honey clung to her inner
thighs, glistening in the dim light. His mouth watered—eager for a taste.

She seemed to move in slow motion, her boots lazily
clicking against the floor as she ambled toward him.

Tap… Tap… Tap…

His cock twitched.
Ah, hell
…
those cowgirl
boots were his undoing.

“
Do you want me
,
too
?” Her words were
breathy, raw, glazed with desire.

Randall licked his lips. “
God
,
yes
.”

“
How bad
?”

“
Really bad
.”

“
Yeah
?”

“
Yeah
.”

Lana straddled his lap, running her red-painted
fingertips up the solid wall of his chest. The sweet scent of her arousal was
intoxicating, flooding his body with endorphins.

“
Well
,
now that you have me
,
what are
you going to do
?”

Randall smirked as his fingers tugged the delicate lace
blanketing her round breasts. “
This
…” His mouth covered her hard pink
nipple, extracting a faint moan from her luscious lips as his tongue continued
to tease.

“
Don’t stop
.
Please
,
don’t stop
…”

Randall groaned, scrubbing his palm down his face.

This
was a complication he didn’t need: X-rated visions of a
woman he couldn’t have. Lana was Jimmy’s wife, for heaven’s sake. What kind of
man lusted over his dead best friend’s woman?

Rolling out of bed, he trudged into the kitchen and
reached for the bottle of whiskey beside the fridge. Foregoing a glass, he drew
the bottle to his lips, swallowing a few healthy gulps of his favorite poison.
It was a hangover remedy he’d stumbled upon during his stay in Steinhatchee. In
fact, it’d worked so well, he hadn’t purchased a bottle of Advil since early
spring.

He took another swig from the bottle, finding solace in
the fiery amber fluid as it slid down his throat. Then bracing his hands along
the counter’s edge he lowered his aching head, trying to make sense of the
unfathomable.

It wasn’t that she was unattractive—hell, Lana was the best
kind of beautiful. She had a pure heart, an angelic aura about her, combined
with a girl-next-door exterior. Her allure wasn’t intimidating, but rather,
approachable
.

Last night she’d looked so carefree on the dance floor.
And idling in his truck in her driveway she’d looked… fucking delicious.

Randall blew a puff of air from his lungs, wishing the
action would expunge the vivid fantasies from his body. He needed to pull
himself together. He needed to stop thinking about Lana. Forget about the way
she’d felt pressed against him last night on the dance floor. Obliterate the
memory of those deep blue eyes staring back at him.

He couldn’t have Lana Phillips.

Not now. Not ever.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty lil’ thing.” Lana sat next to
Kendall, holding baby Tenley in her arms. “How’d the labor go?”

“Well, this being my first, I don’t really have anything
to compare it to”, Kendall began. “But according to Dr. Gillard and the nurses,
it was about as good as one could hope for. I had virtually no pain once the
epidural was in place.”

“She barely broke a sweat”, Ty commented as he entered
the room.

Lana raised her gaze from the tiny bundle in her arms to
the man standing to her right. Ty’s expression was that of a proud husband,
proud father. “You two sure do make pretty babies. What on earth are you going
to do when she’s fifteen?”

“I don’t even want to go there—I’m still workin’ on
getting through the first week!” Ty explained.

“Well, enjoy every minute of her while she’s young; they
grow up too fast. Connor’s turning six in March. I honestly don’t know where
the time went!”

“Is he still at your momma’s?” Kendall inquired.

Lana nodded. “I’m headed that way after I leave here.”

“Olivia said she’d managed to talk you in to going to The
Saloon last night. How was it?”

“It was… weird at first, you know? Jimmy and I spent so
many Saturday nights there… Anyhow, Randall sensed my hesitation, practically
dragged me onto the dance floor and… well, I think that helped chase the
awkwardness away.” For a while, anyway; the discomfort had returned later on in
his truck.

“Speaking of Randall, have you heard from him yet this
morning?” Kendall questioned. “I’ve left several messages, but he hasn’t
returned them yet.”

“No, I—”

“I wouldn’t expect to hear from him till at least noon”,
Ty shared. “Especially if he was out late last night drinkin’.”

“You’re right”, Kendall softly agreed. “It’s just… It’s
just… I miss my best friend!” Tears traveled down her face as a sob broke free.
“I guess I j-just figured he would’ve visited by now.”

“Your wish is my command”, Randall announced as he
stepped into the room, bearing a small bouquet of pink roses and a to-go order
of onion rings. His eyes quickly averted to Lana, holding who he assumed was
Tenley, then back to Kendall. “Don’t cry, Babe”, he soothingly appeased, moving
further into the room.

Kendall swiped at her eyes, then threw her arms around
Randall’s neck when he was within reach. “I was w-worried you weren’t going to
show.”

“C’mon, now—you actually think I’d purposely steer clear
of you on one of the happiest days of your life?”

Pulling away, Kendall shrugged. “Deep down I knew you
wouldn’t, but when I didn’t hear ba—
are those onion rings
?”

“You are so predictable”, he teased.

“Yeah, I suppose. Sorry”, she uttered as she gestured toward
her tears, “I’m a little hormonal at the moment.”

Lana felt a bit uncomfortable sitting there holding
Tenley, like she was intruding on a very private conversation between two
people with oodles of history. “I should probably get going; my parents are
expecting me for lunch.” Carefully, she transferred Tenley back into her
mother’s arms and stood.

“Not a casserole, I hope”, Randall chuckled.

“Sandwiches”, she confirmed, meeting his gray gaze from
across the hospital bed. “Pretty hard to screw that up—at least, I hope.” Lana
turned her attention back to Kendall. “Congratulations, again. She’s absolutely
precious.”

“Thanks, I think she’s pretty adorable, too—but then
again, I’m sort of biased.”

“I’ll walk you out”, Ty offered as he placed his hand on
the small of Lana’s back.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that—I’m quite capable of
finding my way back to the elevator. Stay here with your new family.”

Ty waved off her suggestion. “I’m headin’ to the
cafeteria, anyway. Besides, it’ll give them time to catch up”, he explained as
he reached to open the door.

She was moments away from stepping into the hall, when
the sound of Randall’s voice halted her feet. “Tell Connor I’ll stop over later
today to play catch.”

Lana looked over her shoulder, attempting to gage whether
that was secret code for
I-think-we-should-talk-about-what-almost-happened-last-night. But unfortunately
his mundane expression gave nothing away. “Um, okay. I will.”

Lana lay restless on her back that evening, staring at
the ceiling fan blades as they slowly whirled. She’d been lying there for
nearly two hours, plenty of time for her eyes to adjust to the darkened room.
Plenty of time to reflect.

Guilt gnawed at her conscience. She’d had an astonishingly
good time last night, laughing, dancing, drinking. She’d felt…
alive
. A
glimmer of hope had trickled into her heart, allowing her to take her first
real, deep breath since the end of May.

What did that say about her, exactly?

Selfish: that’s what she was—her husband was buried in
the Apalachicola Cemetery while she’d been twirling on the dance floor. And
then, of course, there was that awkward moment in Randall’s truck—that
incredibly intense moment when his mouth was centimeters away from caressing
her lips…

 Lana shivered as she recalled the memory. Of all the
times for her libido to rekindle, it’d chosen
that
moment. With
that
man.

Turning onto her side, she vigorously fluffed her pillow,
then nestled her head against the cotton sham. She’d spent a better part of the
day combing over the details of their almost-kiss, trying to figure out if the
allure had been one-sided. Because there was no sense in denying there’d been a
small part that’d wanted him to kiss her.

Yeah. What was she supposed to do with that admission?

 She wasn’t quite sure.

Clearly, she’d spun too many times on the dance floor and
had become too friendly with Jose Cuervo.

As promised, Randall had stopped by just before dinner.
He and Connor tossed the football back and forth in the backyard while she’d
pretended to read a magazine on the patio. She’d carefully watched Randall for
any signs of discomfort or remorse—if there were any, she hadn’t seen them.

Neither had spoken about what’d almost happened last
night in the cab of his truck. Maybe she was worrying over nothing. He’d had an
awful lot to drink last night, too; maybe he didn’t even remember their
near-kiss.

And if he didn’t remember, then she clearly needed to
forget.

Lana allowed her heavy lids to close, drawing the comforter
over her shoulders for warmth. Thank goodness he’d probably been too drunk to
remember.

Thank goodness for Jose Cuervo.