She choked. How did she explain her crazy turmoil over Mama’s invitation and Daddy’s and Uncle Jake’s meddling?
“Then tell me what’s going on. Is it Maguire?” His voice sharpened and his body tensed.
He was jealous of Royce? “No—no. It’s not Royce. It’s not you. Please, don’t leave. I just need to get something straight in my head.”
“Okay, but we will talk.”
“Yes. I promise.” She peeled herself from his arms. Once she was calm, once she’d decided how to confront Daddy, once she was sure she wouldn’t upset Uncle Jake…then she’d explain. “I’m going downstairs to put away the Halloween decorations.”
“I’m headed there, too.”
Scents of baking bread and fresh coffee greeted them as they walked through the kitchen door. Uncle Jake was briskly slicing carrots into neat julienne strips, a content smile on his face. He was never happier than when he was cooking.
He paused and cocked a brow at them. “You kids, don’t you know how to relax on your day off?” Mondays and Tuesdays were technically her scheduled days off—not that she normally took the time.
He did what he did because he loves you. Forgive him. Let it go.
She hugged Uncle Jake. “Good morning to you, too. I wanted to take down some of the decorations.”
Dave grinned and held up his hands. “I’m just here to tighten the paper towel dispenser and give a hand with the decorations.”
They spent the next couple hours removing swaths of fake webs, spiders, and dangling bats, and Uncle Jake’s favorite tacky decorations with a Florida twist: skeletons dressed as pirates, treasure chests, and the glow-in-the-dark mermaid skeleton. They left the autumn foliage, orange lights, and the battery-operated pumpkin candles Uncle Jake had added this year.
She stepped from the ladder and turned, right into Dave’s arms. Sorrier than ever that she’d shut him out last night, she wanted to wrap herself in him and stop thinking. She tipped her face to his, loving the heat rising in his eyes. Yes, oh, yes, she needed his kiss.
“Stop fussing around. The decorations are fine.” Uncle Jake grumbled behind them.
He set his newspaper and coffee mug on the bar. The weariness in his face worried her, but behind his fake grouchy tone, cheer sparked in his eyes, as if he knew what he’d interrupted.
“We’re almost done.”
“It’s a beautiful day, and the pool’s warm. Go and play. Go swimming. Help yourself to the leftover chicken for lunch. Talk.” He cocked a bushy brow.
Right, talk.
“As for me, I’m going to have a fresh cup of coffee, finish the paper, play in the kitchen—maybe I’ll make a Key lime pie for your dessert tonight. I don’t want you two back here until eighteen hundred sharp.”
The time conversion momentarily tripped Livie. They opened at four…“Ah, that’s way after opening.”
“So? Isn’t it your day off? I’m sure you two can find something to occupy your time.” His eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter.
“With that incentive.” Dave winked at her and folded the ladder. “I’ll stash this. Race you upstairs for swimsuits?” He carted the ladder off toward the kitchen door.
“I’ll just get Uncle Jake’s coffee first.”
Uncle Jake laughed. “What are you waiting for, baby girl? I can pour my own coffee.” He snapped open the first section of the paper. “Shoo—chase the man. I swear, kids don’t know how to have fun anymore.”
“You’re the boss.” She kissed his cheek and followed after Dave.
She changed into her black bikini, with shorts and a loose shirt for a cover up. An idea for lunch struck her, so she added a ripe mango and avocado to her beach bag.
Dave was waiting outside her door, swim trunks and sunglasses on, a towel slung over his shoulder, and his Florida T-shirt showed a fat, grinning alligator leaning against a “Tourists Welcome” sign and picking its teeth.
She took a deep breath and slipped her hand into Dave’s. His light squeeze shored up her determination. No more letting her issues with Daddy damage her relationship with Dave. They had a sunny, perfect November day, with gulls wheeling across the clean blue sky on the warm breeze. A perfect day to pry herself from the mire of the past and work on the future.
“What did Maguire want last night?” Dave sounded casual, but tension radiated in his grip.
Olivia sighed. “His dad’s back in the hospital. Royce wants to go home to see his folks, but his dad told him to stay here to look after his grandpa and the marina.”
He cleared his throat, and caressed his thumb over her hand. “That’s rough. I didn’t know.”
“He’s pretty torn up.”
Walking into Uncle Jake’s backyard and pool enclosure was like stepping into a tranquil tropical Eden. The privacy offered by the stucco walls and lush plantings encouraged leaving troubles outside the gate. She set her bag on the patio table and turned, stepping out of her sandals. “Do you—”
Dave swept her into a possessive, dizzying kiss.
Well, Uncle Jake had said to play. She wanted a timeout from her anger and upset, to indulge in forget everything. She surrendered herself wholly to the kiss, as he drew off her shirt and unfastened her shorts, easing them down to drop away.
Dave broke away long enough to strip off his T-shirt.
Between kisses, he led her down the pool steps, and they sank into the silky warm water.
He cupped her face, his eyes filled with heat. “For right now, just set your worries aside. For right now, do you want to be here with me?”
She brought her lips to his. “Yes.” Of that, she was certain.
“Good, because I want to be here with you.”
Floating weightless in the warm water and Dave’s arms flooded her with rich, vivid memories. She shut her eyes, reveling in the sweet rub and caress and nibble of his lips over hers and the gliding drift of body against body. Awash with desire, she ran her hands over his strong back, reveling in his mouth on hers, his gentle hands stroking her body, bringing her senses to wild life. He made her burn and shine.
He slipped his hand beneath her bikini cup and caressed her breast.
“Yes.” She arched, straining into his touch. “Oh, that’s so nice.”
He trailed kisses along her throat, soft bites and grazes. She wrapped her legs around him, riding in the buoyant water to graze over his erection.
A laughing groan rolled from him. “Trying to be good here, sweetheart.”
Lost in sensation, she wanted more. “Oh, you are, very good.”
He cupped her rear, pulling her close as she kissed him, her grip on his shoulders steadying her, making love with mouths and hands, bodies gliding together barely separated by swimsuits. Sweet warmth rushed her, and he swallowed her cry with his kiss.
“This thing between us isn’t going away, is it?” Her heart rushed, bursting with love.
Dave’s expression was intense, but he kissed her lightly. “No, doesn’t seem so.”
“What are we going to do?” The urge to spill everything about Daddy and Uncle Jake’s interference welled up.
“Kiss some more, I guess.” He winked. “Eat lunch.”
She loved him for keeping the moment light. “About each other?”
“One day at a time. Keep talking. See what plans we want to make.” He stroked her back, ending with a slow caress of her bottom and a quick kiss. “Let’s make lunch. I’m hungry.”
More kisses slowed drying off and dressing, but they finally made their way into Uncle Jake’s kitchen. The comfort of cooking mixed with cuddles and kisses left her feeling better than she had in days. The chicken, mango, and avocado ended up in a chunky salad over mixed greens, finished with a citrus vinaigrette and garlic bread on the side. She set their plates out on the patio table.
She needed to decide about Thanksgiving, only facing Daddy, knowing what he did…Maybe by then her anger would diminish.
Just let it go. It’s all spilt milk. Done.
Unchangeable.
Olivia waited until they’d finished eating.
“That was excellent. Mango is now my favorite fruit.” Dave leaned over, giving one of his slow, easy kisses.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Tempted as she was to let his kiss distract her, the time to clear the air had come. She stirred the ice in her sweet tea and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry about last night. I’m sorry about my fuss over Thanksgiving and my rotten mood. I’m sorry I shut you out.”
“Now who’s apologizing too much?” He chuckled quietly and laced his fingers with hers. “Livie, it’s fine if you go without me.”
“No, I do want you with me. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable.”
“I can deal. Mrs. Quinn housebroke me years ago.” He grinned. “And thanks to Mr. Quinn, I can tie a sharp bow tie when I need to.”
A laugh bubbled up. Okay, wasn’t the worrying often ten times worse than the reality? Be brave…
“Truth is I don’t want to go. But Uncle Jake needs to spend the time with Daddy. I was being childish and thinking only of my own feelings. I want to tell you why I was upset.”
His expression grew serious. “Okay.”
She clenched her hands in her lap. “I learned on Sunday that Daddy and Uncle Jake paid off and threatened R.J. into settling the divorce. I found emails Uncle Jake had mixed into his filing piles. He’d hired a private investigator, built a file on R.J., and I never knew.”
Dave shrugged. “They love you, so they helped. I bet R.J. was going to fight you on the divorce just to be a prick, wasn’t he? They fixed the problem.”
He really couldn’t see her issue, could he? “I’m angry with them because I’m an adult, and they treated me like a child and meddled and made decisions affecting my life without asking me what I wanted.”
Dave’s brows rumpled. “You wanted the divorce, though, right?”
“Yes, but they should have told me!” Anger swarmed her, and her hand tightened painfully on her glass.
“Look, I’m sorry they snuck around on you, maybe there were better ways to handle it, and I can see how finding out like you did was a shock, but bottom line is they love you and you were set free from a bad situation fast and clean. To me that’s a win-win. To be honest, for your sake I wish they’d acted sooner.”
“I know I should let it go…” She unlocked her grip from the glass.
Dave nodded with honest commiseration. “But it’s hard.”
“Yes.”
He stroked his knuckles along her cheek and down to trace his thumb over her lips, the emotion in his eyes hot and potent. “I told you I wanted to be the right man for you.” He took a deep breath. “All the way, in every way. Livie, I—”
A jangling alarm snapped his attention over his shoulder. “What’s that?” But his face was sharpening in recognition.
An adrenaline jolt cleared her confusion and launched her from her seat. “The bar’s fire alarm!”
****
Dave lunged from the chair and jammed on his sneakers, but Livie was already bolting through the gate.
Smoke bled from the bar into the sky. Oh, hell, no. He struggled to catch up with Livie across the grass and parking lot, running, sort of. His leg had to hold. “Damn it, stay outside!”
Livie skidded to a halt and spun on him, eyes blazing with panic and frustration. “Where’s Uncle Jake? Meet in the parking lot. That’s his rule. He should be here.”
That old soldier would keep to his regulations, unless something stopped him.
She trembled, ready to bolt in after Jake. He grabbed her arm. “I’m going in. Stay here, damn it, so I know where you are.”
Dave charged to the door, forcing himself to assess the scene and touch the back of his hand to the glass door before unlocking the door. Smoke and no sign of Jake. Not good, oh, not good at all.
He opened the door, hit by heat and stench of smoke. “Jake! Where are you?” he shouted. He strained his ears, but only the voice of the fire answered. Damn. He entered low, heart pounding, eyes and lungs smarting. “Jake! Answer me.”
Kitchen or office? He was running out of time.
Jake’s glass of wine, half-eaten lunch, and newspaper lay on the bar. No Jake.
Dave rounded the bar. Firelight glinted on broken glass across the wooden floor, leading to a shattered rack of glasses, a smashed wine bottle…
Beyond the toppled bar stool, Jake, crumpled facedown.
No, shit, not again! Images of his dad dead on the floor slammed Dave, choking him, paralyzing him in grief. Too late, too late—
Fuck that. Focus!
He grabbed Jake, attempted to lift him into a carry. His leg quaked and back screamed. Last year, lifting the old man would have been effortless. He shifted to drag Jake’s slack weight.
Next moment, his leg dumped him, he hit the floor and broken glass hard, and pain lanced through the sick turn of helpless falling. “Fuck!” He heaved himself up, gasping and cursing, fury driving him through the shakes.
No time for gentle. He wrenched at Jake, plowing ahead, and slammed out the door, his lungs heaving for clean air, barreling on until he reached the parking lot and Livie.
Livie dropped to her knees, face stricken as she efficiently checked Jake’s airway and pulse. Her aching groan confirmed his fear, but she grimly launched into steady, forceful compressions.
Where was the fire department? Logic reminded him scarce time had passed, but desperation consumed him. “I’m going back in. I can’t let you lose everything.”
“No! Dave, you can’t.”
“Stay with Jake. No matter what. Swear it!”
“Yes. But don’t go!”
Dave lurched for the bar, driven by the grief in Livie’s eyes. He refused to let this fire steal her legacy from Jake. She’d rebuilt herself a good life here.
Back inside. Doing what you should never do. Never go back inside. Never, never, never.
But if he had a chance…
All his pain shrieked at him to fight. He snarled, grabbed the fire extinguisher, and went after the bastard. He knew fire. He knew the nature of the beast and its many tricks. He had to save this place for Livie.
The deeper truth. He couldn’t lose this place for himself.
Too late, too late, far too late.
The hungry fire was spreading too damned fast under the lowering smoke pall. All his training ordered him to let go and get the hell out. Without gear, he was as useless as any civilian in the toxic air and soaring lethal heat. With all the old wood feeding the beast, shit was going south fast. He was already cut off from the front door. The smoke was changing, warning…
Out now! If you die, where does that leave Livie?
Sanity won.
Eyes streaming, lungs burning, he scrambled to the side emergency exit, slammed against the crash bar and burst out onto the landing. He’d failed Livie, but he couldn’t fight this fire. Just like when he was eleven, this fire wasn’t his battle. He had to let go. All of it.
Air horns and sirens pierced through his anguish. Dropping the extinguisher, he broke into his shaking, bastardized lope along the ramp, gulping fresh air. Time to get out front fast to let them know he was safe. If someone got hurt because he’d broken the rules…
Sickened on smoke, guilt, and sorrow, he stumbled and caught a hand against a post, gasping heavy lungfuls of air between racking coughs. Assorted emergency vehicles hit the brakes and the men swung to their tasks, some to Livie, still on her knees giving Jake CPR.
Livie collapsed to sitting, pointed to Dave, and then the men seeing to Jake blocked Dave’s view.
Aw, hell, Jake…Dad. Grief crushed him. He hadn’t been fast enough for either of them.
He reached the front walk. Glass shattered behind him. Scarce minutes had passed. Scarce minutes for the fire to go to fully involved. A police officer was talking to him, steering him toward the parking lot. He heard himself reporting fast between coughs: They were closed, Jake had been the
only one working…
Yes, yes, he was bleeding from that damned broken glass and he’d breathed too much smoke—all in a day’s work for him, right? He’d always been fine before. He was fine now.
Only, he was dizzy as hell and telling the man how losing her china cabinet and damned teacups would break Livie’s heart. He shook his head. He stepped toward Livie. “I’m fine. Livie needs me.”
With a yeah, right shake of his head, the officer clapped a steadying hand on Dave’s shoulder and called out.
Time to concede the truth. Fire wasn’t his job anymore. He’d fought for so long, been driven, without understanding why. He’d called the need to fight fire inspiration, direction, a gift of vocation that turned a troubled kid around, when he was just trapped in an obsession, battling the childhood monster he could never fully kill. Fighting this fire, any fire, would never return his parents’ dreams the Malibu fire had stolen, never restore his home, never give him back his parents…
This fire belonged to those men. His job now was Livie, but he’d screwed up again and left her alone. He needed to get to Livie. He could do the post mortem on his childhood hang-ups later.
Kay’s calm voice filtered through his pain: I realized I have the choice to drop that baggage.
Just let go. The sledgehammer blow of clarity and outrush of tension folded his legs, dropping him ass to the ground and things went hazy.
Time to fold.
He must have breathed in way more smoke than he’d thought because the Kenny Rogers song was looping through his head. Oh, yeah, way past time to fold ’em.
Chapter Nineteen
As the fire trucks and police rolled into the parking lot, Olivia spotted Dave at the corner of the porch ramp. He was safe! Thank you, God, thank you!
She lost sight of him as the EMTs took over care of Uncle Jake.
But Uncle Jake…he was long gone home to his Amy and Victor. She’d known, even before she’d swung into CPR praying her heart out. She hugged her weary arms to herself as if that would hold back her grief and focused on their questions. Then a police officer led her away, asking her more questions.
The next moment she saw Dave, he was on the ground with an EMT leaning over him. Behind them, the bar blazed like an unreal movie scene. The serenity enveloping her shattered.
Love Burns Page 28