Fully Involved (Island Fire Book 3)

by Amy Knupp

  No matter what he thought of her, that record was in black-and-white, a fact, something that could and would be used against him in court if he was involved with her.

  Clay was wildly attracted to this woman — no denying that. But could he honestly stand before a judge and swear that Andie’s influence on Payton was completely positive? Part of him thought so. But was that the part he could rely on or the part that had steered him wrong in the past? His judgment had been skewed before. Who said he knew any better now?

  He closed his eyes, full of regret for what he had to do. He had to stop. He kissed her temple, held her close, savoring a few last seconds. Then he ran his hands down her arms, trying to be more brisk and businesslike.

  Andie looked up at him with lust-hazed eyes, which only shot more heat through him. Damn, this trying to do the right thing idea sucked.

  He glanced at Payton’s photo again. He couldn’t lose her.

  “Aaand, just like that, we’re done,” Andie said, taking a step back.

  “You make me lose my damn mind, biker girl.”

  “Apparently not completely,” she said with a hollow smile.

  “You know why—”

  Andie nodded. “I know why.” She stood straighter, adjusted her camisole, her eyes becoming clear. “It’s good you stopped before either one of us did something we’d regret.”

  “Right.” He was going to keep telling himself that all day.

  “I’m going back to bed while you go off and do noble things.”

  He smiled at what she’d said, but even more, at the image of her in her tangled sheets.

  Before he realized what she was doing, Andie stood on her toes and nibbled him briefly beneath his ear.

  “Have a good day at the office, dear,” she said, then snuck out the door just before the sun started rising.

  He walked off to take a cold shower, wondering if he was the dumbest man on the planet.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Andie wanted nothing more than to go home and get naked.

  It was hot enough to melt flesh today, a couple hundred degrees in the shade. She’d been working since ten this morning, after very little sleep, thanks to dreams of a certain firefighter that were a hot of an altogether different nature. Her clothes were sticking to her; her skin felt grimy from sweat, spilled beer, grease, you name it.

  Most days, the walk home from the bar was pleasant, helped her come down from rushing around waiting on demanding, thirsty customers. This evening, it made her head throb and her boots pinch. At last, just after seven o’clock, she climbed the flight of stairs, fantasizing about the cool air from the window AC unit blowing over her flesh till she got goose bumps…

  And apparently someone had helped themselves to her apartment, judging by the half-open door and the pounding noise coming from within. What the hell? She stopped just outside the door, not scared exactly, because whoever was in there wasn’t being sneaky in the least. Then she saw a familiar thick upper arm with a killer bicep.

  “Hi, honey, I’m home,” she called.

  Something crashed, he mumbled to himself, and then the door opened wider.

  “Hey,” Clay said. He bent and picked up the hammer he’d dropped. “I was trying to finish before you got here.”

  “Finish what?” Andie walked into the living room, out of the scorching sun.

  “Maintenance.”

  “Hi, Miss Andie,” Payton said from the floor by the balcony door. She was stretched out on her belly, knees bent, feet in the air, with a giant box of crayons on the floor in front of her.

  “Hey, Pay, what’s up?”

  “I got a new coloring book. I’m making you a picture.”

  “Oooh,” Andie said, bending down to look. “Looking good so far.” She ruffled the girl’s hair then stood back up.

  Andie inspected the backside of the main door, where Clay had been working. “A dead bolt?”

  “You got it.”

  “For me?” She couldn’t help smiling.

  “For now. When you move on, it’ll be for someone else.”

  Ouch. “Thank you,” Andie said, her tone more formal.

  “I hope it makes it easier to keep up your end of the agreement.”

  “It’s still empty,” she said of the gun. “I can show you.”

  He looked like he was about to say yes, then shook his head.

  “Are you almost done?” Andie asked, lifting her tank out from her stomach, where it stuck to her skin.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Daddy said a bad word when you weren’t here,” Payton explained.

  Andie raised her eyebrows and looked at Clay.

  “Didn’t have everything I needed. Had to go back to the hardware store a second time. I’ve barely started.” He pointed to a second lock still in the package on the floor. “Plan to put one on the balcony door too.”

  She nodded, too exhausted to express her gratitude.

  “Miss Andie, want to color with me?”

  “Tell you what,” Andie said. “You let me take a quick shower and then we’ll do whatever you want until your daddy’s done. Deal?”

  “Deal!”

  “Maybe we can even have a Popsicle if he says it’s okay.”

  Payton nodded thoughtfully, glancing at her dad. But he was back at work, getting ready to use his drill. “Give me ten,” Andie said to Payton. “All right with you?” She aimed the question at Clay.

  He nodded. “Thanks. She’s been so patient today.”

  She took the few steps to her bedroom to pick out clean clothes, then locked herself in the bathroom.

  Flowers and candy wouldn’t mean half as much to Andie as a couple of sturdy dead bolts.

  She found herself smiling as she pulled the plastic shower curtain closed around her and stepped into the blessedly lukewarm stream of water.

  Then she stopped in her tracks and swore.

  Since when did she let herself be appeased by a man doing something nice for her? Not since Trevor had she shown that kind of weakness, that lack of self-sufficiency.

  Desperately, her heart thundering in a panic, she ran her fingers over the scar on her arm and closed her eyes.

  She’d trusted two men in her life. Trevor and her father. In the end, they’d nearly ruined her sense of self. They’d hurt her so thoroughly — physically, yes, but even worse, emotionally and mentally — that she’d had hours she hadn’t been sure she wanted to live through.

  Andie would never let herself fall to such depths of despair again. She’d sworn to rely on no one else, to never let her happiness or her will to live depend on another human being.

  That Clay was different held no bearing. Her promise to herself hadn’t been to become fiercely self-dependent unless a seemingly kind, sexy man happened along.

  Her attraction to Clay was undeniable. Scary as hell, truly. She wanted him like she hadn’t wanted anyone for years if ever. Who could blame her?

  She could accept the chemistry between them. Wasn’t dumb enough to try to go through life without a physical involvement here and there. But that’s where it had to end — with the physical. Lust and only lust. With Clay, there was something more, an underlying something that went beyond wanting his fine, muscular body on top of hers. And that something made Clay dangerous.

  She rinsed off the soap and got out of the shower. She pulled on short denim cutoffs and a thin-strapped white tank. Instead of drying her hair, she tied it in a bandanna to keep the damp strands off her face. She couldn’t stand the thought of putting anything back on her feet, and she kicked her boots to the corner of the bathroom. Then she headed out to entertain Payton … and resist the girl’s daddy.

  oOo

  “We’ll be outside,” Andie said, ignoring Clay’s shoulder muscles as he bent over the holes he’d drilled in her door.

  He straightened and raised his eyebrows.

  “Only just to the top of the steps,” Payton clarified with big, serious eyes. She held up both halves
of a grape double Popsicle. “So our Popsicles don’t drip and you don’t get mad at Miss Andie and make her get new carpet.”

  Clay grinned. “Smart plan, girly. Have fun.”

  Andie took the bag with Payton’s EpiPen. Clay let them by and then pushed the door most of the way closed.

  Andie and Payton discussed important topics such as sparkles on hair ribbons and what butterfly wings were made of as they sat side by side on the top step of Andie’s landing. The sun had dropped behind the building next door, making the temperature more bearable.

  Andie finished her Popsicle quickly, successfully avoiding dripping bright red liquid on her white shirt. Payton, however, was another story. By the time she’d licked down to the wooden sticks, she and the landing were wearing more purple than she’d consumed. Laughing, Andie ran inside for a handful of wet paper towels. Payton waited for her as close to the door as she could get.

  It took an eternity to remove all the purple that would come off — and there was plenty that wouldn’t.

  “How about if we go down to the front yard and draw with sidewalk chalk?” Andie suggested.

  “I don’t wanna.”

  “What?” They’d spent hours drawing pictures when Andie had stayed with her before. “Bees,” she said. “You’re really afraid of them, aren’t you, sweetie?”

  Payton’s shame and sadness as she nodded made Andie’s chest constrict. “Oh, Payton, come here.”

  The girl watched her warily for several long seconds as Andie wondered if she’d decide to trust her. Andie squatted and held her arms out. Finally, Payton moved toward her and wrapped her arms tightly around Andie’s neck. She didn’t let go even after several seconds. Andie backed up to lean against the outer wall, next to the door, taking Payton with her.

  “Let’s sit down,” Andie said. “You can climb on my lap.”

  Payton loosened her grasp and Andie sat, pulling the child onto her legs.

  “Getting stung and going to the hospital was pretty scary, huh?” Andie asked.

  She felt Payton’s nod against her collarbone.

  “The thing is, sweetie, you’re okay now, and we have the medicine you need if you ever get stung again. Right here with us.” Andie pointed to it. “You know that’s what it’s for, right? To make sure you’ll be okay?”

  Payton nodded again.

  “How many times have you ever been stung by a bee?” Andie continued. “Just that one time, right?”

  “There was lots of bees though. They all got me.”

  Andie tightened her hug. “That was unfair of them, wasn’t it?”

  “Bees are mean.”

  “Not all bees,” Andie said. “Out of the millions and millions of bees in the world, only two of them decided to sting you. The rest … they might be nice bees.”

  Payton giggled. “Bees aren’t nice.”

  Andie tucked Payton’s head under her chin. “How many times have you been outside before and had no bees sting you?”

  Payton was silent for a moment. “I dunno.”

  “Every single time but one, right?”

  Payton shrugged and wouldn’t agree. So much for logic.

  Didn’t matter how much she liked kids, Andie was out of her element trying to cure a four-year-old girl of her deepest, darkest, justified fear.

  After a few minutes of thought, Andie tried again. “You know everybody is afraid of something, right?”

  Payton straightened in her lap and met her eyes. “Are you?”

  “Of course. Even your dad is.”

  “What are you afraid of?” Payton asked, ignoring Andie’s attempt at diverting attention from her to Clay.

  “My fears…” What the heck was she getting herself into? “I’m afraid of…” What could she say that a child could relate to? She had to tell her something, and she didn’t figure my ex-boyfriend was appropriate. Ditto trusting people.

  “Bullies,” she finally blurted. That was Trevor, so it was totally valid and yet, she hoped, not something that would worry Payton.

  “What’s bullies?”

  Andie filtered out all the swear words that cluttered her mind when she considered Trevor. “A bully is a mean person.”

  Payton looked thoughtful for a moment, then frowned. “I’m scared of bullies too.”

  “Hopefully you won’t run into any bullies for a long time.” Or love one, or trust one…

  She hoped she hadn’t created a new fear for Payton. This childcare thing required a damn doctorate degree. “So about the bees. And fears. You can’t let the mean bees keep you inside your whole life, Payton.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you love being outside. Remember how much fun we had that day before you got stung? Picking flowers and drawing rainbows on the driveway?”

  “The bees ruined it all.”

  Okay, good point. “What if we went downstairs, took your EpiPen, and played only on the driveway, where there aren’t any bees? They’ll all be busy in the flowers getting a drink.”

  Payton leaned out to survey the yard below, obviously interested.

  “We could draw more rainbows and flowers and maybe a few butterflies.”

  Still no answer. “You can stay close to me, and if we see any bees on the driveway, we can run back inside.”

  Payton stood, straining to see the driveway.

  “Yeah?” Andie asked, getting up as well.

  “I guess so.”

  Payton made Andie carry her along the flower-lined walkway to the drive. Once they got to the wide slab of pavement, though, she wiggled down and pulled Andie to a bin in the carport where Clay stored a bucket of colored chalk.

  Andie set the bucket down on the side of the driveway farthest from the flowerbeds, and they both picked out a piece of chalk. As Andie sketched a lopsided, top-heavy butterfly, Payton kept a wary eye on her surroundings. Anytime an insect flew close, she ran to Andie’s side, but there were no bee sightings.

  By the time Clay came down, more than a half an hour later, Payton was thoroughly engrossed in coloring the figures Andie drew.

  “Hey, girls,” he said as he walked around the front corner of the duplex.

  “Hi, Daddy!” She sprinted to him and jumped into his arms.

  “She’s outside,” he said, his voice laced with surprise. “In the front yard.”

  “Andie carried me past the mean bees.”

  “We decided it wouldn’t be fair to let the mean bees force her to stay inside,” Andie explained simply.

  He set Payton down, and she galloped off to finish coloring the last rainbow.

  “You’re amazing,” he said so his daughter couldn’t hear. “I overheard your conversation with her up there.”

  “Eavesdropper,” Andie said, uncomfortable with his praise.

  “I’ve tried a dozen times in the past week to get her out here.”

  Andie shrugged. “I was winging it. We brought her EpiPen just in case.” She pointed to it at the base of the steps, but Clay’s eyes remained fixed on her.

  “Thank you.”

  There was so much gratitude behind those two little words that she squirmed. She was counting the days until she could leave the island and ride away from this tempting man for good.

  Eleven. More. Days.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You don’t look so hot,” Andie said to Selena the next day. “Are you okay?”

  They were on the patio at the Shell Shack four days before Macey’s wedding, assembling favors. Selena was painting “Derek and Macey,” along with the wedding date, on the sides of miniature tin buckets, while Andie filled the buckets with fire-helmet-shaped chocolates and tied on dark red ribbons that would match the bridesmaid dresses.

  Selena held on to the side of her belly and winced. “Braxton Hicks is all. False labor, I think they call it, but I’m here to tell you, if this is false, I don’t have any interest in seeing what true labor is like.”

  “How do you know it’s false?” Andie asked skeptica
lly.

  “It’s been going on for over a week. I’ve been to the hospital twice thinking this is it. But no. It’s practice.”

  “A week? That’s cruel.”

  “I’m just praying I can make it through the wedding without my water breaking or something equally embarrassing.”

  “Isn’t this a little early for the baby to show up?”

  “Three weeks. So yes, early, but not dangerously so. I hope. I’m ready to get rid of these ankles.” Selena held up one foot for Andie to see. “My legs look like elephant legs. Not really how you want to feel as a newlywed.”

  Andie laughed. “From what I’ve seen, Evan loves you so much you could turn purple and sprout horns and he wouldn’t blink an eye.”

  Selena’s expression said she felt the same way. “Everything’s happened so fast. Last year at this time, I was still on the East Coast. Single. My biggest worry was my brother, who’d been hurt in the Middle East. When I came down here, I never planned to stay forever. More of an extended getaway. Now I’m married, own a business, and am decorating a nursery.”

  “I’ve always been of the belief that the most interesting things come along when you don’t make detailed plans. Shit, who am I kidding? Any plans.”

  “It was true for me. Maybe next year at this time, you’ll be knocked up and married too.”

  “Let’s not go overboard,” Andie said. “You’ll make me hyperventilate.”

  “How’s it coming, ladies?” Macey’s mom, Cheryl, who’d been working with Kathy, Derek’s mom, on centerpieces, wandered up to their table and pulled out a chair. Both women, plus Derek’s father, had come into town yesterday to help with last-minute details.

  “Making progress, as long as the paint girl doesn’t go into labor before she’s done with her job.” Andie glanced at Selena again to make sure she was okay.

  “You poor thing,” Derek’s mom said as she joined them. “I remember those last few weeks of pregnancy well.”

  She told them how Derek had gotten the hiccups several times a day during her last month. That prompted Macey’s mom to add her own late-pregnancy stories.