Sullivans 06 - Let Me Be the One

practically ran from the parking garage to the building the fellowship committee had opened up to the candidates. Making a beeline for her small studio, she flicked on the light switch, dropped her bag to the ground, and grabbed a new container of Plasticine modeling clay. Later, if she nailed a small-scale model, she’d make it full size with oil-based clay.
    It was so easy to overthink this feeling, to stop and drill down to see where it had come from, to want to know not only where exactly it had come from, but also where it was going. Fortunately, after years of experience, Vicki knew better than to make the mistake of doing any of those things.
    All she needed to do today was go with it, let the clay talk to her through her fingers...and pray that it all made sense when she resurfaced.
    It was, she suddenly realized, like trusting the ocean tide to take her out with it before bringing her back in again, refreshed and renewed.
    Slipping on her headphones and putting a recording of the ocean on repeat, she placed her hands on the clay and closed her eyes. Following her instincts, she let herself shape and carve, enjoying the sweet pleasure of the emotion flowing from the center of her chest, then down her arms and out of her fingers.
    The rhythm of water in her ears matched her heartbeat as she worked steadily, lost to time, to thirst or hunger, to anything but the pure, sweet joy of creation.
     
    * * *
     
    Ryan slipped his phone back into his pocket and stared out over the ocean as he thought about what Rafe had told him.
    James Sedgwick had come up clean. A little too clean, according to his cousin. Ryan was fully confident that if there was anything to find on the guy, Rafe would find it. Unfortunately, it looked like he was going to have to wait for his cousin to dig deeper.
    While he’d been on the line with Rafe, Vicki had headed out. Unable to shake the feeling that he and Vicki had left things in a strange place at breakfast, Ryan decided to drop by her studio to see her and her project before going to the stadium for a pregame workout.
    As he drove back into one of the seedier parts of San Francisco, just thinking about Vicki working in this part of town made it hard to keep his possessive, protective nature in check when he wanted so badly to make sure nothing ever hurt her again.
    All those years, if he’d known she hadn’t been happy with her husband, he would have—
    What?
    What would he have done?
    Chased her halfway around the world and begged her for what? To let him sleep with her like every asshole who wanted a piece of her?
    Or, he suddenly found himself wondering, would he actually have been begging for something more?

Chapter Six
     
    Ryan spent several minutes poking his head into one studio after another, looking for Vicki, before a woman with blue and green hair finally took pity on him. “Who are you looking for?”
    “Vicki Bennett.”
    “Lucky bitch. Talented as all hell and now you.” She pointed down the long hallway. “She’s on the first floor at the back of the building.”
    He thanked her and his heartbeat immediately kicked up at the thought of seeing Vicki again as he made his way toward her workroom, even though he’d just had breakfast with her. Her door was open a few inches and he put his hand on the knob to walk through it, but when he caught sight of her, he stopped dead in his tracks.
    If seeing Vicki last night in her bra and panties had rocked his world, getting to watch her with clay beneath her hands, her legs open around her worktable, her feet bare, her eyes closed as she worked...was so far past world-rocking he didn’t think they’d invented a term for it yet.
    Some of the best nights of his life had been shared with Vicki in her parents’ garage. She’d gotten used to him hanging with her while she worked. Some nights, when she was really intensely working on something, he’d work on his aim with a bag of baseballs. And on the nights where she’d get frustrated and throw the clay against the wall, he’d take her stained hands in his and convince her it was time for a wetlands walk. They’d both wash their hands clean in the water and he’d want to kiss her so bad.
    He could get sex other places. Plenty of it, if he wanted. But he couldn’t get what they had with anyone else.
    Vicki was his friend, a real friend who didn’t care if he was a great baseball player. She didn’t expect him to be the easygoing, athletic Sullivan brother. She