Borrowed Beauty

Chapter Twenty-Two: What You See Is What You Get

Josiah

I rolled up an old quilt and tossed it in the back seat of the Range Rover just as Olivia appeared on the porch. She wore a pair of faded blue jeans with a rip over one knee, that looked like real wear-and-tear, not something ripped at the factory. She had on a mint-green t-shirt and carried a gray hoodie draped over one arm. Damn that woman made casual look smoking hot. Just looking at her reminded me of how it felt to have the full length of that soft body pressed against mine.

She glanced down at herself nervously. “Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect,” I said, climbing the stairs two at a time so I could snag her hand and draw her close. Was it the color of her shirt that made her eyes look more green and sparklier than usual? Or was she also revisiting the memory of a plastic tower?

I really wanted to kiss her, but I had a feeling if I got started there on the porch, we would never make it out of the driveway. I settled for pressing my lips against her forehead and still wondered at the tingling sensation that spread across my lips on contact. “Let's get going. We don’t want to be late.” I still had her hand in mine, as I led her back down the porch steps and over to the vehicle. I opened the door for her like a proper gentleman. My mother would be proud.

“So,” she said, once she had buckled her seatbelt. “Where are we going?”

I grinned at her as I slid behind the wheel. “Just wait and see.”

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll have you know, I despise surprises,” she complained, but I could tell that, secretly, she kinda loved it. Her lips kept twitching into a smile that she was fighting to suppress, and her eyes were dancing happily.

“Josiah?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to drive?”

“Oh, yeah.” I stopped staring at her and started the engine. It was an effort to keep my eyes on the road for the entire drive into the city. Olivia kept her gaze out the windows, searching the passing scenery, trying to get a clue of where we were headed. I even took a little detour through the club district, just to mislead her.

“Oh look,” she pointed, pressing her finger against the glass as we passed Dos Hermanos. “Is that the twins’ club?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” I said, barely sparing a glance at the big, blocky building that housed the club. It was still early, but the parking lot was already swarming with customers eager to party their Saturday night away. I was so glad that Olivia didn’t seem to be into that scene. She appeared much happier to be wearing jeans and a t-shirt, propping her hiking boots on my dash as we continued to roll through town.

We left the business district and turned toward the outskirts, where the school sports fields were located. The lights were on over the football field, even though it wasn’t quite dark yet, and all kinds of people were milling about on the sidelines. I found a place to park on the gravel lot and reached into the back seat. Olivia was now staring at me.

“You brought me to a football game?”

“Yep.”

“Wow. Cool.” She let herself out and came around the hood to wait for me. She didn’t look at all disappointed, but the best was yet to come because this was no ordinary football game. We started to walk across the parking lot, but every few yards we were stopped by families who wanted to greet us.

“Great weather for a game, eh Alpha?” someone stopped me and grabbed my hand, pumping it like a well handle.

“Sure is!” I said, not admitting I couldn’t recall the guy’s name.

“Hey Alpha, look at this turnout, isn’t it wonderful? So good to see the community come out in support of the kids!”

“Absolutely!” I agreed and steered Olivia away from the crowds toward a relatively quiet spot near the thirty-yard line.

I shook out the quilt and laid it on the grass. “My lady, your VIP box seats for today’s sporting event.”

“Why thank you, Alpha,” she grinned and tossed her hoodie down on the quilt.

“Now, for your five-star meal, if you care to join me?” I stuck out my elbow, and motioned toward the concession stand with my chin.

“Oh yes, I’d love to!” She laughed, and took my arm, as we once again braved the crowd in search of hot, fried, sporting event fare. The whole thing had a carnival feel to it, as there were tons of little kids running around wearing glow necklaces, someone was hawking popcorn and cotton candy, and energetic 90s music was blasting over the sound system. We waited in line in front of the concession stand.

When we got to the window, I started giving our order. “I need a large french fry, a corn dog, an italian pepper grinder, and…onion rings.” I turned to Olivia expectantly. “What will you have?”

“Make it two corn dogs and two onion rings,” she told the pimply-faced teenager who was taking our order, “And a snowcone!”

“Gotcha,” the kid said, ducking back inside to pass the order slip to the fry cook. I looked down at Olivia Forest in utter adoration. Any woman who could slurp a blue-raspberry slushy out of a paper cone, while balancing a tray of fried food in one hand had to be a goddess. I followed her sashaying ass back through the throngs of people to our blanket and we sat down for our artery-clogging feast.

Olivia was just squirting a second plastic packet of ketchup over her corndog when the music was cut off, and a man began speaking over the PA. “Welcome Prosperity springs, to our third annual Peewee football championship game! We’d like to remind you that all the proceeds from today's event will go to benefit the Prosperity Springs Family Recovery Center! So don’t be shy with your pocketbooks and wallets folks, it's all for a good cause! Now, it is my pleasure to introduce tonight’s all-star players! The Mighty Miners and the Catalina Wildcats! Let's give these kids a big welcome!

Instead of full-size football players, or even gangly teenagers, a bunch of little kids, ages five to seven, ran out onto the field, looking like so many bobblehead dolls in their football pads and enormous helmets. Amongst the Mighty Miners, in their yellow and blue uniforms, was our very own Thomas, who wove back and forth between his teammates as their two coaches tried to wrangle them into the center of the field for introductions.

“Oh my god!” Olivia excitedly sat up on her knees, “Look at them! They are so adorable. Oh! Oh! Is that Thomas?? Hiiii Thomas!” She shouted out over the field and waved wildly.

Even over all the noise, I could hear Thomas shout back, “Hiiii Oh-liv-eee-uh!”

Olivia laughed happily and sat back, leaning against me easily. The announcer finished all the pre-game information, and the national anthem started to play over the loudspeakers. Olivia scrambled back to her feet and stood respectfully, with her right hand pressed over her heart. Right on cue, two F-16 fighter jets did a fly-over just as the last notes of the anthem faded away, bringing an excited roar of approval from the crowd.

“Wow!” Olivia sat back down with a gasp. “You folks really go all out for children’s sports!”

Despite the fact that the kids had been practicing for this game for months, the game was still a comedy of errors. The ball was fumbled far more often than it was caught, confused kids ran in the wrong direction, and our boy Thomas seemed to feel it was his sacred duty to tackle any player that held the ball, even if it was his own teammate. It was barely controlled chaos, with the referees helplessly blowing their whistles, and coaches wading freely among the players trying to keep the game going in approximately the right direction. Olivia didn’t care about any of that. She was on her feet and cheering for whichever team had the ball, yelling encouraging words to every kid who got knocked over in a tackle, and generally laughing until tears rolled down her face.

I hardly noticed the peewee game, my eyes were glued to Olivia. I couldn’t help flashing back to my conversation with Vero a few days ago. My aunt had said then that she wished my dad was here to advise me, but I had a feeling that my dad would have loved Olivia. She was the most real, honest, down-to-earth woman I had ever met. My dad would have said, “What you see is what you get with that one.”

And boy, did I like what I was seeing.

On account of the tender age of our star athletes, the game had been shortened to just twenty-eight minutes, instead of the usual hour, with a good long break between each twelve-minute quarter. During the breaks, cheerleaders from the elementary schools came out to do a routine, the junior high band played a song, and the Senior High Chorus did an interesting rendition of “Uptown Girl,” by Billy Joel. In the entire game, only one legitimate touchdown had been scored, by one of the little bobbleheads on the Miners team, so they were declared the winner. All of the players were awarded little plastic Heizman trophies and treated to ice cream cones as the event wound down.

“Now, I’d like to call Mr. Josiah Salvador to the field,” the announcer boomed over the loudspeaker. I cringed a bit and grabbed Olivia’s hand, dragging her out on the fifty-yard line with me. I gave her an embarrassed look as I waved to the families that were all crowded around the field. “Let's all give a big hand to our corporate sponsor, the man who makes this event possible every year!”

People clapped and cheered, but I didn’t care about that. What I cared about was the way that Olivia looked up at me, her face wreathed in smiles, and the way she squeezed my hand in approval. The look she gave me made me feel like I was ten feet tall.

Someone shoved a microphone into my hand, and I raised it in front of my lips. Public speaking was one of my least favorite aspects of being the Alpha. I gripped Olivia’s hand harder, and somehow, that made it a little easier. “I want to thank everyone who came out tonight!” I said, wincing slightly at the sound of my own voice being amplified over the speakers. “I am so proud of the way that this city comes out to support not only our kids but also our entire community. The Prosperity Springs Family Recovery Center has served this city for almost five years now, helping families cope with the impact of substance abuse and addiction. I commend the center for their service, and I celebrate all the families and individuals who have made the courageous step of seeking recovery.”

The crowd roared and cheered in agreement, and I was about to hand the microphone away so that I could get out of the center of attention when the crowd parted in front of me, and an unfamiliar newscaster with a professional cameraman approached me.

“I guess Prosperity Springs needs a rehab program more than ever now, isn’t that right Mr. Salvador?” The reporter, a tall, slim woman in a suit dress and what I could swear was a blond wig, spoke coolly while the television camera rolled.

“Um,” I was taken aback by the unexpected question.

“Is it true that a drug cartel has set up shop in Prosperity Springs? Some have suggested that you have not only turned a blind eye to the sale and distribution of drugs in this city but that you yourself are a major player. Can you comment on these allegations?”

I glared down at the woman, using the full extent of my alpha aura, willing her to back off with this aggressive line of questioning. “I’m afraid I can’t comment because this is the first time I’ve heard mention of it. Every city in America is struggling with the pervasive destruction of drugs and addiction, and I’m sorry to say that Prosperity Springs is no exception.” I decided to ignore the insinuation that I was personally involved. If I made any reply, it would sound defensive. I shoved the microphone into someone’s hands and pulled Olivia away, back in the direction of our blanket.

Inside, however, I was seething. Who was this reporter, and where had she come from? I caught sight of their production van and realized that she was from a big-city network. What the hell was she doing in Prosperity Springs, reporting on a charity Peewee football game? And why did I get the feeling that she had come with the purpose and intent of smearing my character?

Olivia must have sensed my tension, because she cut in front of me, and ran her hand over my chest. “Hey, just relax, big guy. Forget about that dumb reporter, this night was totally awesome! Look around! The kids had a great time, the families had so much fun, and I’m sure it raised a lot of money for a good cause!” Her earnest gaze moved from my eyes to my mouth and she licked her lips unconsciously as she stared. That hand on my chest that was meant to comfort me began to rub over my pectoral, and her other hand snuck up to stroke the back of my neck. “Tonight was…” she seemed to forget what she was about to say. She shook her head and then used the hand on the back of my neck to tug me down while she stood up on tiptoe to reach my lips. This time I let her kiss me. She was a delightful mix of shy, curious and bold as she slanted her mouth across mine, traced my lips with her tongue, and nipped lightly with her teeth.

I vaguely remembered that we were at a family-friendly event, and we were in grave danger of putting on a show that was for mature audiences only. I lifted my head reluctantly and stared down into her dazed hazel eyes. “Let’s take this party home, shall we?”