Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
T he Florida sun blazed overhead, the air thick enough to chew. After a shower and fruitless hours of research on Emmett, I reached for my phone.
"This is Walker." The same no-nonsense tone I remembered from when we were younger.
"Hey, Walk." My voice caught slightly on our old nickname for him.
"Nicholas." A pause heavy with unspoken years. "Been too long."
I drummed my fingers on the desk. "How's the family?"
Walker's breath caught for a moment. "Good. You know, man, I never had the chance to thank you for the money you sent."
"No need. How is Lucas?" My hand tightened on the phone, remembering the call about his three-year-old's diagnosis.
A long pause filled the line. "He's better, not out of the woods yet, but we still have hope. Amy and I appreciate your help. I don't know that we can ever repay you."
I moved to the window, watching heat waves shimmer off the pavement. "That's not necessary. I hope it was enough."
"It was more than enough, man." His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "We are forever grateful to you." The sound of a chair creaking came through the line. "Anyway, what's up with you?"
I paced the length of the room, my bare feet silent on the tile. "I was calling for a favor. Are you still in the P.I. business?"
A short, humorless laugh came through the speaker. "You know it. There's always another cheating bastard waiting for me to catch them."
I stopped at the edge of the desk, drumming my fingers against the polished wood. "Well, I don't have a cheating spouse, but I do have something I need some P.I. work on."
The sound of ice clinking against glass filtered through the line. "Sure, man, what's up?"
"You remember Emmett Ryan, right?" I held my breath without realizing it.
"Yeah, of course." Walker's tone sharpened with interest. I knew he would remember—we'd all gone to high school together, our lockers just doors apart.
"Something's up with him, and I need your help to figure out what." I went on to tell him about Olivia coming to live with me, the fire, the money, the lack thereof, and Emmett's disappearance, then asked him to dig up anything and everything he could on anything involving Emmett, Olivia, and Mr. and Mrs. Ryan.
"You think you're being scammed?" The detective in his voice replaced the old friend—sharper, more focused.
"Truthfully..." I rubbed the back of my neck, remembering my conversations with Olivia. "I don't think Olivia could hurt a fly. She's got this way of looking at the world like it hasn't disappointed her yet. But then again, I've been fooled by beautiful lies before."
I gave him my contact numbers and my email to send anything he found along with a bill for his services.
"This one is on the house, man." The professional edge in Walker's voice softened, replaced by something warmer, more familiar.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. "I appreciate that, but I prefer to pay for your services. You don't owe me anything."
Papers shuffled on Walker's end of the line. "Maybe not, but this one's on the house. Give me a few days, and I'll get back to you." The line went dead before I could protest payment any further, leaving me staring at the silent phone in my hand.
I set the phone down and rubbed my temples. Walker had ways of finding out information that others couldn't, but waiting for answers felt impossible when Olivia's future hung in the balance. If Emmett had been stealing from her... My hands clenched into fists at the thought.
A splash from below broke my concentration. From the second-floor patio, the sharp scent of chlorine drifted up on waves of humid air. Below, Olivia carved lazy figure eights through the turquoise water, each splash echoing off the stucco walls. The late afternoon sun caught the spray around her, turning ordinary pool water into diamond drops. Despite my earlier frustration, my tension melted in the Florida heat as I watched her play.
Her proposal had been the last thing on my mind between figuring out the situation with Emmett and her nightmare. But watching her flipping around in the pool, the uncontrollable urge to touch her came back. Against my better judgment, I decided to join her.
"This doesn't look like you're catching up on sleep," I called out, wincing as my bare feet scorched against the sun-baked pavers. I stepped back into the shade.
Olivia glided toward me, hair streaming behind her. She propped her elbows on the pool deck, chin resting on her folded hands. "I couldn't sleep," she admitted with a half-shrug, water droplets glittering on her shoulders in the harsh sunlight.
The pool's surface fractured the afternoon light, casting shifting patterns across her shoulders where they broke the water's surface. Each ripple distorted her form beneath, turning her into something ethereal and untouchable.
"Yes, I imagine that would be hard in the pool," I chuckled.
"Funny." She rolled her eyes, and I tossed the towel on a nearby chair and dove in. When I resurfaced, I noticed she was watching me, her bright blue eyes suddenly dark and hungry.
A clap of distant thunder broke the tension. I pushed backward through the water, creating more space between us. "First day of work tomorrow. You ready?"
"I'm nervous, but yeah, I'm ready." She ducked her head, her eyelashes casting feathery shadows on her cheeks. Her fingers trailed through the water, creating small ripples as a soft smile played at her lips.
I treaded water, my legs working beneath the surface while my upper body remained perfectly still. "You’re going to do great.”
Time dissolved in the water like salt. The afternoon stretched on, marked only by the steadily lengthening shadows of the palm trees and the occasional distant rumble of thunder promising an evening storm. Being careful not to touch her, I managed to control my body slightly. It didn't take me long to realize that it wasn't her body I was attracted to. It was the whole package: her smile, mind, eyes, body, innocence, and all of her.
I hoisted myself out of the pool, water streaming down my legs onto the concrete. "It looks like it's you and me for dinner tonight." My fingers and toes were utterly shriveled and pruned. "I thought we could order a pizza and hang around the house." I grabbed my towel off the chair and ran it over my face before turning around.
Olivia emerged from the pool in one fluid motion, water cascading off her in ribbons. "Sounds good." She wrung her hair out with a twist, creating a small puddle at her feet.
Time stretched. Each step across the patio was torture—the flex of muscle beneath tanned skin, droplets tracing paths I ached to follow. My pulse hammered in my throat. The tiny pink bikini left little to the imagination, but it was the confidence in her movements that undid me. She knew exactly what she was doing. I gripped my towel white-knuckled, using it as both shield and anchor. The thunder rumbled closer, as if the sky itself understood my struggle.
Pressing my lips tightly together, I used my towel to cover the instant growth in my shorts. Desperately hoping she'd use hers to cover her exposed body, I stood completely still, watching her every move.
"Like what you see?" Her lips curved upward, but her eyes searched mine for something deeper than amusement.
"Yes." The word came out rougher than intended.
Something shifted in her expression—a flicker of triumph, perhaps—and then we were moving toward each other. Three steps closed the distance between us. Up close, her confidence faltered; her gaze dropped to the hollow of my throat, her fingers twisting together at her waist. The contradiction—this mixture of boldness and vulnerability—only made the wanting worse.
"I'm going to go change," she murmured, her voice lower than before. As she turned away, her spine straightened, shoulders rolled back. Not a retreat, but a tactical withdrawal.
Does she know what she's doing to me?