Beach Reads Boxed Set

by Marie Force

  “Sure, if you’re you, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

  His laugh was interrupted by a deep, hacking cough. “God, I’m a walking germ factory. You should stay as far away from me as you can get.”

  “No way.”

  “Good answer.” He led her to the parking garage. “I’m so bummed. I had all kinds of things I wanted to do when you were here, but I don’t feel like doing shit.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll be perfectly happy to curl up with you on the sofa and watch movie after movie until you feel better.”

  “Sounds good to me.” He dug his keys out of his coat pocket.

  Olivia’s eyes widened when she saw the taillights flash on a shiny black Mustang GT. “No way.”

  “Yes, way.”

  She ran a hand over the tailfin. “Oh! It’s gorgeous.”

  “I love it,” he confessed as he stashed her bag in the trunk. “I’ve always wanted one, and I finally took the plunge last summer.”

  “I should’ve figured you for a muscle car,” she teased. “Your need for speed and all that. Do you want me to drive? Since you’re not feeling good?”

  He held the passenger door for her. “Ah, no. That’s okay.”

  Crossing her arms, she studied him. “You don’t trust me with your baby, do you?”

  “I never said that. It’s just that no one else has ever, well…”

  Olivia cracked up. “You’ve never let anyone else drive it, have you?”

  His cheeks reddened. “No.”

  “Hmm.” She held out her hand. “Prove your love?”

  “Liv.”

  “You’re sick. I’m here to take care of you. The least you can do after I’ve come all this way is let me drive you home.”

  “I don’t know about this.”

  “Keys, please.”

  “When was the last time you even drove?”

  She had to think about that. “The weekend you rented the Toyota in D.C.”

  “Then you’re out of practice.”

  “And you’re high on cold medicine. Which is worse?” When he had no answer for that, she played her trump card. “I thought you trusted me.”

  “I do, but not with—”

  “Your car?” She took the keys from him and walked around to the driver’s side.

  “Liv.”

  God, he was a whiner when he was sick!

  “Come on,” he pleaded.

  “Are you just gonna stand there, or are you coming with me?”

  “Since you have no clue where you’re going, I guess I’m coming with you.”

  With a victorious smile, Olivia got into the driver’s seat and got busy rearranging all the mirrors. She heard him groan under his breath.

  “Go easy with the clutch. It’s temperamental.”

  “Don’t worry, honey. I’ve been driving a stick since I was fifteen. My dad’s into cars, remember?” She fired up the car and sat back for a minute to listen to the roar of the powerful engine. “Wow. Tell me we get some interstate action on the way home.”

  This time when he groaned, he made no effort to hide it.

  “Oh, goodie!” She shifted into reverse and left some rubber on her way out of the parking space.

  “If I was sick before,” he muttered as they pulled up to the tollbooth, “I’m dead now.”

  “Shut up and pay the man.”

  By the time they reached his complex twenty-six minutes later, Cole was even paler than he’d been before.

  “That was so awesome,” Olivia sighed as she cut the engine and returned his keys.

  “Yeah,” he said, dripping with sarcasm. “Awesome. I hope you enjoyed taking advantage of a sick person because you won’t get away with that twice.”

  “It was so worth it. I’ve never driven such a cool car.”

  He softened somewhat at that. “You do have a way with a stick.”

  She flashed him a huge grin and followed him up the stairs to his townhouse. “Are we still talking about the car?”

  He laughed so hard he ended up coughing. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “I’ll try not to,” she said, forcing a solemn expression. She was so damned glad to see him she didn’t even care that he was a walking germ factory. “Oh, this is beautiful!” Walking ahead of him into the living room, she took in the dark leather furniture, glass tables, and flat-screen TV. Everything about the place was masculine, but there were feminine touches, too, like the silk flowers on the dining-room table and the window treatments. “Did you do this?”

  “With a little help from my mother and sister. But most of it was me. You like?”

  “I love.”

  “So you could—maybe someday—see yourself living here?”

  “Tell me the truth—did you have the place professionally decorated so I’d want to move here immediately?”

  “No,” he said with a grin, “but that would’ve been a good strategy.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I missed you so much.”

  “Me, too.”

  He kissed her neck, her jaw, and her cheek, and nibbled on her earlobe, but he was careful to avoid her mouth. “I want to take you straight upstairs to bed, but I don’t think I’ve got it in me tonight. Will you be disappointed if we just chill?”

  “Of course not.” She helped him out of his coat and led him to the sofa. “I’ll make us something to eat while you take a nap.”

  “You don’t know where anything is.”

  “I’ll figure it out.” Brushing her hand over his eyes, she urged him to close them. “Sleep.”

  He kept his eyes closed. “I don’t want to sleep when you’re here. I want to be with you.”

  “We have a whole week. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Pinky swear?”

  She kissed him lightly on the lips and wrapped her finger around his. “Pinky swear.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Olivia told herself it didn’t count as snooping. After all, he knew she was there and had to figure she’d be curious, right? She decided her whole apartment would fit in his dining room and kitchen, which had stainless steel appliances, brown granite countertops, and dark wood cabinets. Running a hand over the smooth granite, she paused to look at the photos on the refrigerator.

  The Langston family Christmas card from three years earlier had been signed “with love from Joe, Irene, and Family.” In the picture, Cole held a blond child in each arm. From the other four young adults, she found the two she figured for his brother, Josh, and sister, Amanda. She looked forward to meeting them next weekend.

  Olivia took a moment to study his mother, a robust, smiling woman who seemed full of life. In her eyes, Olivia saw a hint of the mischief she loved so much in Cole. She decided he favored his mother.

  In another photo of him with his parents, Cole wore a flight suit and a tan Navy uniform hat with a gold pin on the side. The rest of the space on the refrigerator was dominated by school photos of his three nieces and two nephews, and candid shots of Cole with the kids, who clearly adored their uncle.

  When she went back into the living room she found him out cold. Poor guy, she thought as she played with his hair. He was always so full of energy that it was strange to see him flattened like this. Figuring he would be asleep for a while, she took her bag upstairs where there were three bedrooms and a bathroom off the hallway.

  In the first bedroom, she found a home gym and a sofa that probably doubled as a guest bed. The second room housed a meticulous computer workstation. On the walls were photos, plaques, and mementos from his ten years in the Navy. She stopped for a closer look at a photo of him sitting in the cockpit of a fighter jet that had “Lt. Cmdr. Cole ‘Jackpot’ Langston” scrolled in cursive on the body. She’d have to ask him how he got that nickname!

  Sitting on the desk, she noticed what looked like a scrapbook and decided to take a quick look. Inside the front cover she found a brief inscription: “To Cole, who was a hero to us long before the rest of the world caught on. Love, Da
d.”

  Moved by his father’s sweet words, Olivia flipped through the pages of coverage that had followed Cole’s heroic act the previous January. He’d been on the covers of People, US, Time, and Vanity Fair. Articles, including several about his brief but dramatic relationship with passenger Chelsea Harper, had been clipped from major newspapers across the country.

  The final item was a photo of Cole with his arm around the captain he’d saved, the two of them sporting huge grins. The captain had autographed the photo, “To my new best friend Cole Langston. I owe you everything. Bob Greenman.”

  “Wow,” Olivia said as she took a second slower trip through the scrapbook. She’d managed to compartmentalize his national hero status, but seeing it all spelled out in black and white was a daunting reminder of just how famous he’d become. After the second look, she closed the book and continued on to the next room.

  Throughout the house, she noticed framed artwork and other souvenirs he had brought back from his travels. She wanted to know the story behind each one of them.

  His bedroom was done in shades of tan with red accents. The dark cherry headboard on his king-sized bed was so pretty that Olivia couldn’t resist touching it to see if it was as smooth as it looked. It was.

  She couldn’t imagine owning a home as lovely as this. She had expected it to be nice, but she hadn’t predicted such a finely tuned sense of style. In hindsight, she should’ve known he had it in him by the way he could make jeans and a sweater look like a GQ ad. She left her bag in his room and checked out the large master bathroom.

  Another flight of stairs from the hallway led to the third floor, which was used for storage. Boxes of all shapes and sizes were stashed in the open loft.

  Her curiosity satisfied—for now—Olivia went downstairs to poke around in the kitchen and discovered he’d been to the store in anticipation of her arrival. She threw together a salad and boiled some pasta. Since she had to search for everything she needed, it took nearly an hour to make the simple meal.

  As she was setting the table, his cell phone, which was plugged into the charger on the counter, rang. Olivia stared at it as she debated whether or not she should answer it. Finally, she reached for it.

  “Hello?” Silence. “Hello?” Oddly, she felt like someone was there—someone who was choosing not to speak. A weird prickling sensation danced down her spine as she ended the call and looked at the caller ID. The number was unavailable. She shook off the strange feeling and lifted the lid on the pot to see if the pasta was done.

  When it was ready, she went to check on Cole. Squatting next to him, she caressed his face and pressed her lips to his warm forehead.

  He awoke with a start. “Hey,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “What time is it?”

  “Almost seven.”

  Wincing, he tried to shake off the stupor. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Feel any better?”

  “A little.” He reached up to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger. “I’m having déjà vu.”

  She smiled. “I still feel the jolt.”

  “Me, too.”

  Unable to resist for another minute, she leaned in and kissed him.

  “Liv, honey, wait. I don’t want you to get sick.”

  “I’m willing to take my chances.” She flicked at his lips with her tongue. “Besides, you’re probably not contagious anymore.”

  He buried his fingers in her hair and brought her down for an easy, gentle kiss.

  But after not seeing him for nearly two weeks, she wasn’t interested in easy or gentle so she sent her tongue to find his.

  He pulled away. “I can’t do this to you. It’s misery.”

  With a smile, she got up and stretched out on top of him. “I remember saying that same thing once, and I seem to recall a certain lord of the manor insisting I could.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “This is different. You could get sick.”

  “I just want one decent kiss, and then I’ll feed you and nurse you.”

  His eyebrow lifted into a rakish expression. “Nurse me how?”

  “If you don’t kiss me, you won’t find out.”

  “Oh, all right. If I have to, but don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

  “The sacrifices you make for me.”

  Laughing, he cupped the back of her head and gave her what she wanted.

  After dinner, they exchanged Christmas gifts. Olivia had found an elaborate book on biplanes that she thought he would like and a sweater she hoped would fit him. And there was one more she couldn’t wait to give him.

  He opened the first two gifts with childlike glee. The book was a huge hit, and when he would have dived right into it, she had to remind him there were others. He opened the sweater and put it on over his T-shirt.

  “Oh, good,” she said, pleased to see the color complemented his eyes just as she had hoped it would. “It fits.”

  “Perfectly. I love it. Thank you.”

  “There’s one more.”

  Picking up on her excitement about the gift, he shook it, listening intently to see if there were any clues.

  “Just open it, will you?”

  With a smile, he tore the paper off and went still. “Oh, wow.” The framed sketch showed the two of them together over a backdrop of all the highlights of their San Francisco trip. “This is just amazing. You’ve got everything in there—the bridge, the cable cars, the Top of the Mark, the Fairmont, Victor and Paolo, Sausalito. Unbelievable.”

  He studied it for the longest time and then reached for her. “Second to you yourself, this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I love it. Just when I think I’ve seen the full scope of your talent, you go and top yourself.” Getting up from the floor, he removed the map of Egypt that had hung over his mantel and replaced it with her sketch. “What do you think?”

  “It looks like it belongs there.”

  “Yes, it does, and I’m glad to see you signed it, too.”

  “My manager is a pain in the ass about that. He insists I sign all my work.”

  “A wise man.” He picked up two small packages from the coffee table. “Your turn. This one first.”

  Olivia teased him by shaking it the way he had done to hers. Then she tore off the red foil paper. “Oh! Headphones like yours. I love them!”

  “I thought you could use them on all those long flights you’ll be taking to your gallery in San Francisco. They also come with a music subscription.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Thank you! Of course, I have no idea how to do that.”

  Amused by her delight, he tweaked her nose. “I’ll show you how to do it.” He picked up the other present and handed it to her. “Open this one.”

  “You’ve got that look you get when you’re up to something.”

  He raised his hands in innocence. “I’m not up to anything. Just open your present.”

  Something about this one felt significant. Her hand trembled ever so slightly as she tore the paper off a jeweler’s box. She looked up at him. “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  With a deep breath to calm her racing heart, Olivia flipped open the box. Inside were diamond earrings. Big diamond earrings. She gasped. “Cole!”

  “Do you like them?”

  “They’re spectacular, but this is too much. I got you a sweater.”

  “Olivia,” he said softly, “I want you to have them.” He took the box from her and removed the earrings. “I’d put them on for you, but I wouldn’t have a clue how to do it.” Reaching for her hand, he dropped them into her palm. “You do it.”

  With unsteady hands, Olivia removed her earrings to replace them with the new ones.

  Cole tipped his head. “Let me see.”

  She gathered her hair into a ponytail and held it back.

  “Gorgeous,” he said, looking satisfied. “Will you wear them to your show?
For luck?”

  “I’ll never take them off.”

  His face lifted into the sexy half smile that melted her bones.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for my gifts.”

  They sat there, drinking each other in, for a long, breathless moment before he moved toward her. The next thing she knew, she was under him, and he seemed to have forgotten that he was worried about getting her sick. As he devoured her, a wild surge of desire left her lightheaded. The kiss went on for what felt like forever, and she wrapped her legs around him to bring him tight against her.

  “Let’s go to bed,” he finally said.

  “I thought you didn’t have it in you tonight,” she teased.

  He pressed his erection against her as he dropped kisses on her face and neck. “A little sleep, a little food, a little you, and I’m a new man.”

  He might have been a new man, but his eyes were still bright with fever. “We don’t have to. You’re not feeling well.”

  “I feel much better just having you here. And,” he said, leaving more hot kisses on her neck, “I want to see you wearing nothing but those earrings.”

  “Cole?”

  He was busy tasting her neck. “Hmm?”

  “While you were sleeping, your phone rang. I didn’t know if I should answer it, but when I did no one was there. Or I should say, someone was there but they didn’t say anything.”

  He went still and lifted his head to look at her. “How do you know someone was there?”

  She couldn’t miss the stricken expression on his face. “Just a feeling I got,” she said as a weird knot of fear twisted in her belly. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have answered it.”

  “Of course you can answer it. I don’t care.”

  “The number was unavailable,” she added. “Do you know who it was?”

  “No.”

  There was something about the quick, decisive way he said the single word—or maybe it was because his eyes changed as he said it—but Olivia had no doubt that he was lying. He knew exactly who had called.

  Tucking her hair behind her ears, Olivia stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom and took another long look at the sparkling earrings. God, they’re gorgeous. She tried to imagine him in a jewelry store picking out such an extravagant gift for her. They must have cost a fortune! How she wished their lovely evening hadn’t been spoiled by a phone call and a lie.