FIVE⁕MORE⁕MINUTES

by Williams, Mary J.

  Apparently, he had a sickness. Come spring, he vowed to conduct a thorough inventory of his belongings. One person did not need so much… stuff. Most of which, he thought as he looked around, was destined for the Goodwill.

  Olivia opened the first box—filled with a shiny, multi-colored set of snowmen—and gasped with pleasure as she removed each one. She set them on the fireplace mantel, stepped back, and nodded with satisfaction.

  Enjoying her enjoyment, Trey was happy to hand her items while she decided where each one belonged. He'd never seen anyone so intensely committed to such a frivolous task. Then again, he'd never met anyone quite like Olivia.

  "Doesn't your family decorate for Christmas?"

  "My aunt is in charge." Olivia finished the mantel with a garland of sparkly silver stars and a string of red mini-lights. "She likes white. White walls, white furniture, white rugs over the hardwood she can switch out if one becomes stained. For the holiday, she uses the same decorations each year. A white-flocked tree with white ornaments—not lights. The rest of the room is sparsely decorated with—"

  "White?"

  "How'd you guess?" she chuckled.

  Olivia painted quite a picture. Not just of the Christmas season, but year-round. He wondered how a girl, then a woman, who obviously loved color, lived in her aunt's sterile, monotone world without going crazy.

  Trey's gaze moved to Olivia's hair. Was her head of long, bouncing, glorious red curls her first rebellion? And if so, did she have more planned? He hoped so. As a man who, stifled and bullied by his father, rebelled in the worst way possible, he was heartened to watch a young woman break out in a positive, life-affirming way.

  "Tell me what you do." When Olivia sent him a puzzled frown, he clarified. "You have a Ph.D. in physics. Now what? Research? Do you plan to discover something amazing that will change the world as we know it?"

  Full and a little self-deprecating, Trey found Olivia's laugh—like the rest of her—enchanting.

  "Naturally. Every scientist dreams of a major breakthrough—or ten. However, before I win the first of many Nobel Prizes, I want to teach. In fact, I…"

  "You, what?"

  Opening another box, Olivia shook her head. Puzzled, Trey watched as the glow in her eyes began to dim.

  "Sorry. I've done nothing but talk about myself."

  "I was interested," Trey assured her. "Am interested."

  "Really?" Olivia swallowed and took a deep breath. "Isn't my rambling, you know, boring?"

  Aunt Gayle's handiwork, if he weren't mistaken. Trey felt a flash of rage. He'd never met the woman, but he knew her type. Clueless to the true responsibilities of a parent, instead of nurturing her amazing niece, Olivia's aunt tore her down until she questioned herself at every turn.

  Trey knew his time with Olivia was limited. But, he planned to let her know the truth. She was a beautiful woman—inside and out.

  "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." Casually, Trey handed Olivia a three-foot statue of a perky elf. "Want to know why?"

  "Gas?" Olivia asked, her expression concerned. "My cousin suffers sometimes when he eats too much spicy food. A couple teaspoons of baking soda dissolved in warm water will usually fix him right up."

  Gas? He was about to soothe Olivia's worries with a semi-sexy compliment, and she doused the moment in flatulence. Talk about a mood killer. Trey didn't know whether to laugh or groan.

  "I don't suffer from gas, Olivia."

  "Ever?" The idea seemed to confuse her. "No reason to be ashamed. Everybody farts. Or belches. Both, really. On average, a person does one or the other…"

  Trey knew the exact second Olivia realized the subject of the conversation. Bright red flamed across her cheeks, her silvery eyes grew wide with distress, and if he hadn't grabbed her hand, she would have rushed from the room.

  "You are adorable."

  "Don't be kind."

  When Olivia tried to cover her face, Trey took her other hand.

  "Adorable was the wrong word." He kissed the tips of her fingers, slowly, one at a time. "I couldn't sleep because of you. Knowing you were down the hall, warm and sweet and sexy as hell? My head told me you needed rest. My body had other ideas. Fortunately, the gentleman in me won the battle."

  Olivia's heated cheeks went from crimson to a lovely pink.

  "What about the war?"

  She spoke in a quiet, shy tone, but Trey heard every flirty word. Smiling, he placed one of her hands around his waist. The other, he kept in his, sandwiched between their bodies.

  "Forget talk of battles and wars." Trey pulled her onto her toes until her mouth was mere inches from his. "I come in peace. A lover, not a fighter."

  "You really do find me attractive?" Olivia blinked as if coming awake after a long sleep. "Curly red hair and all?"

  "I would want you if you were bald." When she smiled, he felt his heart make a funny little stutter. "However, if you want me to be completely honest?"

  "Please." Olivia gave an earnest nod.

  "Redheads with curly hair are a fantasy of mine."

  "Since when?"

  "Started sometime yesterday afternoon when I held one in my arms for the first time. Her eyes opened—amazing eyes—and I was hooked."

  "Hooked?" Olivia chuckled.

  "Line and sinker." Trey kept his tone light while deep inside, he felt a shift he feared might be permanent.

  "My dream lover has always been tall, dark, and handsome." She ran her fingers through Trey's hair. "Last night, he turned blonde."

  "Interesting. I've developed a recent penchant for redheads. You have a newfound lust for blondes." Trey kissed the side of Olivia's neck and found her scent instantly addictive. "Seems we're a match made in heaven."

  Olivia let out a sigh, tipping her head to give Trey better access.

  "Do you think heaven concerns itself about earthly lust?"

  "Hell if I know."

  "Careful, fella," Olivia snorted. "If you want to piss God off, wait until after we have sex. You won't be any use to me if He smites you down with a bolt of lightning."

  "Never happen," Trey assured her. "God is benevolent. He, or she, would take pity and wait until after."

  Knowing now wasn't the time, Trey reluctantly moved from Olivia's embrace.

  "You think God might be a woman?" she asked as she opened another box.

  "When I see a rose, or a sunset, or a baby's smile? Yes, I do."

  "Women aren't all sweetness and light." Olivia pointed out. "History has shown we can be vicious and cruel."

  "Think of the atrocities carried out in the name of God—by men," Trey argued.

  "Humans, men and women, can be unspeakably awful." Olivia handed him a delicate glass angel. "We can also be brave and giving. And wondrously selfless."

  Trey had to agree. The Stanton clan took him in when he had no one. They opened their home and hearts with no thought of reward or glory. He'd seen the worst of man—his biological father. And the best—his adopted family.

  And Olivia. His angel on earth. Trey wasn't big on prayer. But, he knew when to be grateful. He also knew not to be greedy.

  Closing his eyes, Trey gave thanks. For today, and tomorrow, and for however long the gift of her was his.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ~~~~

  OLIVIA SAT WRAPPED in a warm blanket, legs curled under her. Her hands wrapped around a mug of spiced hot apple cider, she watched the snow drift from the sky in never-ending waves. She wasn't a cold weather person. Even as a child, she didn't long for a white Christmas.

  Funny how quickly her world—her attitude—turned in a most wonderful way. Layer piled upon layer of white covered the landscape. Enough to satisfy the most ardent skier, tobogganer, or snowball thrower. Yet, if Olivia could have one wish come true, she would ask for more. More, more, and more.

  "When the snow stops, I'll have to leave."

  Olivia turned from the window, her wistful gaze meeting Ca
rmichael's. The dog didn't seem worried. Why would he be? No matter the season, he would always have Trey. She wasn't as lucky. Her time was limited to the whims of the weather—and the efficiency of man and his snowplow.

  "Trey said we could be here for days even after the weather clears." Olivia hugged the willing dog. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Fingers crossed, if we're the last road cleared, I could be here until New Year's."

  "Good news," Trey called out as he exited the kitchen.

  Worried, Olivia's head whipped toward the window. Had the storm passed already? She relaxed when all she saw was snow.

  "Looks like cell phone service is back—for now. You can call your family. Let them know you're still among the living."

  "They know I'm okay."

  Trey's friend was able to get in touch with Aunt Gayle. Wrapped in her little cocoon, Olivia hoped the next time they spoke would be after the holidays.

  "Go on," Trey urged.

  She stared at Trey's phone with little enthusiasm but knew she had no choice. Dialing the number, Olivia decided to wait for three rings before she hung up. Aunt Gayle picked up after two.

  "Hello?"

  "Hello. It's me. Olivia."

  "I see."

  Aunt Gayle was a master of the frosty greeting. Her, I see, dripping with ice, was followed by silence. Olivia was expected to apologize—profusely. If not, Gayle would wait, without a word, until she did.

  For once, Olivia refused to play the dutiful niece.

  "I'm fine. Better than fine. I don't know about the rental car, but the insurance should cover any damage."

  Silence. Olivia sighed. Fine. If she had to carry on a one-sided conversation, so be it.

  "A very nice man, Trey Stanton, helped me. Saved my life, to be exact. He's a forest ranger." Olivia rolled her eyes. "Chances are, I won't be with you for Christmas. Tell everyone how sorry I am, and I'll miss them."

  The little white lie seemed appropriate.

  "Take care."

  "Olivia. Wait." Aunt Gayle's tone was sharp and familiar.

  "Yes?" Stifling her sigh, Olivia waited.

  "This man you're with. Is he… Has he…?"

  "What, Aunt Gayle?"

  "Has he behaved in an inappropriate manner?"

  Olivia had a good idea what her aunt deemed inappropriate; she'd heard the lecture on keeping oneself pure often enough. As a result, she learned the best way to respond.

  "Mr. Stanton is a perfect gentleman. Trust me, he wouldn't do anything I didn't want him to do."

  Trey, listening to every word, raised an eyebrow. Olivia smiled and shrugged.

  "Good." Aunt Gayle sounded relieved. "A man like Jim Dillard won't want a woman who gives away the goods before marriage."

  Anger, an emotion Olivia usually suppressed around her aunt, but lately, she found hard to control, bubbled to the surface. She knew the best course was to end the phone call before she said something she might regret. Instead, she let instinct take over and said the first thing to pop into her head.

  "First, I don't care about Jim Dillard."

  "He still wants to marry you."

  "Second," Olivia pressed forward. "What if a man took my goods without my consent? Would Jim Dillard still want to marry me? Or, drop me like a piece of yesterday's trash?"

  "Olivia! What a thing to say."

  "Seems like a fair question."

  Olivia could picture her aunt, a shocked expression on her face as her mouth opened and closed like a fish desperate for water.

  "You think long and hard. Maybe by the time we see each other, you'll have an answer."

  "But…"

  "Merry Christmas, Aunt Gayle."

  Without a word, Trey took the phone. Olivia thought she saw his lips twitch but couldn't be certain.

  "I'm a terrible person."

  "For zinging your aunt?" Trey scoffed. "Two sides to every conversation and from what I could hear, she gave as good as she got."

  "When she used the term give away the goods, I saw red." Olivia sighed. "I should have kept my mouth shut."

  "You should have told her to go to hell."

  "In my dreams, I have. A million times." The day she walked out, Olivia came close. "My aunt doesn't listen to anyone but herself. She knows I won't marry Jim. Yet, she believes by sheer will, she'll get me to change my mind."

  "Does she really think you're a virgin?" As Trey absently scratched behind Carmichael's ear, he frowned. "Unless what you told me wasn't true."

  "I've had sex." Not a lot and the results varied between blah and not bad. Two things Trey didn't need to know. "I don't talk about my love life to any of my family."

  "From what I heard, I don't blame you." Carmichael let out a whine, drawing Trey's attention. "Someone needs to go out. Want to come?"

  "Sure."

  "We can't go far," Trey warned when Olivia jumped to her feet. "Since yesterday, the snow's up to my waist."

  "Even if I can only stand on the porch, some fresh air sounds wonderful."

  "Grab your hat and coat. We'll meet you outside. And don't forget your shoes."

  ~~~~

  "LOOKS DIFFERENT FROM inside."

  Trey looked at Olivia and smiled. She didn't have to whisper, but he understood the urge. The afternoon light barely trickled through the trees, their boughs hanging low, white, and heavy with snow. Other than Carmichael, nothing stirred, neither man nor animal. Even the birds wisely stayed in their nests.

  "Feels otherworldly."

  "Hard to believe there are cities, and traffic, and other people." Olivia reached for his hand. Trey tried to read her expression. "Scared?"

  "Thrilled." Her eyes sparkled with life. "Mind you, I wouldn't want to eradicate the human race. But, for a little while, I'm good with just the two of us."

  "And Carmichael."

  "Naturally." Olivia shot him a sideways look filled with mischief. "One thing?"

  "What?" Trey wasn't sure he wanted to know.

  "Everything is too perfect. Needs a little messing up, don't you think?"

  Before Trey could answer, Olivia let out a whoop, took a running leap off the porch, and completely disappeared into the snow.

  Trey sighed, much happier where he was. But when Olivia emerged, laughing, glorious, irresistible, he knew he had no choice.

  "Well, shit," he muttered—and jumped.

  The second Trey came up for air, he found his arms filled with warm, willing woman. Olivia rained kisses over his face as he swooped her into his arms and fell backward. Snow surrounded them on every side.

  "Kiss me."

  Trey flicked a drop of water from her nose.

  "Sounds like a familiar request."

  "If I recall, I had to make the first move," she reminded him.

  "Because you had a fresh head wound. Under the right circumstances, I'd have said yes in a heartbeat."

  Olivia placed his gloved hand on her chest. Through the thickness of his leather glove and her coat, he would have sworn he felt a steady thump.

  "One beat," she teased. "Two. Three. Well? What are you waiting for? Or do I have to make the first move—again?"

  "No, ma'am," Trey growled, brushing his lips against hers. "I have this kiss covered."

  Olivia. Her name pulsed through Trey's body. She wasn't a siren or practiced flirt. She was unique. The way she put her heart and soul into the single kiss made him feel like the only man she ever wanted, the only man she would ever want.

  The space was small, intimate, perfect. Trey angled his body over hers. Their legs became entangled as they pressed as close as two people could be.

  Trey bit Olivia's lip, lightly but with purpose and she rewarded him with her warm, sweet sigh.

  "Feels good," she moaned.

  "The bite?" Trey repeated the move, for his pleasure as well as hers.

  "Yes. And you. And me. The kiss. Everything. Don't stop."

  "We'll freeze if
I don't. Let's move inside."

  Reluctant as she, Trey rolled to his feet. And was promptly flattened by Carmichael.

  "Aw," Olivia laughed. "Someone wants to play."

  "Someone needs to learn some manners."

  "Spend a few minutes with your boy. While I…" Olivia backed away. "…slip into a warm shower. Room for two, if you're interested."

  Olivia paused at the door, sending him a little wave before she disappeared into the house.

  Trey's gaze narrowed on a grinning Carmichael.

  "I love you, buddy. But given the choice between a shower with Olivia and the snow with you? Not even a contest."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ~~~~

  OLIVIA DROPPED HER wet socks into the bathroom hamper. Glancing in the mirror, she saw a stranger. And the realization thrilled her. Her old self wouldn't have the nerve to invite a man to take a shower with her.

  Then again, the old Olivia didn't know Trey.

  Turning the taps, she sighed as the water quickly went from cold to warm and steamy. She stepped into the roomy shower stall and discreetly set a sealed foil packet behind the bottle of shampoo. She had no reason to be embarrassed. Instead, considered herself a modern woman who knew how to take care of herself in any situation.

  Maybe she should feel guilty. The idea to rummage through Trey's bathroom came to her while he cooked lunch. She didn't have the nerve to ask if he kept any condoms in the house, so, she decided to look. Luckily, she thought to begin her search in the hall linen cabinet. In the second drawer, tucked neatly in the back were three boxes—unopened.

  Olivia would have to confess how she found the protection. Hopefully, when the time came, Trey would be too distracted by more important matters and he wouldn't care.

  As the water warmed her chilled skin, Olivia shivered, not from the change in temperature, but with anticipation—and a fair amount of anxiety. The desire to be bold and ask for what she wanted came with some new emotions and a lot of what ifs.

  What if Trey was disappointed? While her flesh was willing, she hardly possessed the naked body of a sex goddess. Or the experience. What if he…