Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  Jasmine chewed the inside of her cheek. “What if I can’t love another man?”

  “Then we’ll love each other.”

  She looked at me with gleaming eyes and asked in a shaky voice, “Promise?”

  “Promise. You’re my person, Jasmine Ann Gersch. You don’t ever leave your person.”

  She smiled, but it was weak. Even though it had been a little over a year since her fiancé had abandoned her in St. Thomas, her issues remained. It wasn’t rocket science. We both knew why she wouldn’t commit or even attempt to. She had been badly burned.

  “You can talk about Steven, with me, if you want. You know that.”

  “I think I’m over that phase, but I appreciate it. My sisters won’t even let me say his name. He’s the reason I’m here and away from them and their children. My sisters are having babies and marrying their princes and I’m not even a part of their lives.”

  “Then go see them.”

  “I will. I want to, but I was too busy trying to get the business off the ground. I felt like I had something to prove to a man who doesn’t give a shit about me.” She took a sip of her water to cool the emotion budding on the tip of her tongue. “I just don’t understand how I can feel so much after all this time and know he doesn’t feel anything at all.”

  “You don’t know that. And he’s an idiot.”

  “That doesn’t help.”

  “You had sex on a backhoe.”

  She chuckled as she pursed her lips. “What is wrong with me?”

  “You got your heart broken and won’t give it to anyone else,” I stated. “You need more time.”

  She wiped underneath her eyes and whispered across the table. “How much more?”

  “Until you and your heart are ready.”

  “What about you, Koti?”

  “I’m holding out for the first time in my life. I’m not in a hurry. I just need my body to cooperate.”

  My abdomen chose that moment to start screaming. Jasmine saw me wince.

  “It’s starting.”

  “Okay,” she said shooing me away. “Go home. Text me later.”

  When I didn’t move, she looked over at me. “I’ve got this, Koti.”

  I lowered my eyes. “Everyone’s checked in, we shouldn’t have too many calls.”

  “So, you check out.” She gripped my hand across the table. “It’s okay.”

  Frustrated, I tried to ignore the deep throb in my center. “I can make it through the rest of the day,” I said, starting to inhale and exhale deeply. “This is ridiculous.”

  Jasmine squeezed my hand. “Go home.”

  * * *

  On my deck wrapped up in a blanket and freezing, even with the day’s heat, I popped a pill from my prescription bottle, my jaw shaking from the onslaught of cramps. It felt like two tiny men had cut their way into my abdomen and were playing the bongos. I lay in my hammock in a ball as I listened to the waves in an attempt to ignore my treacherous body. My insides screamed and I braced myself for the worst. I’d been diagnosed with endometriosis a few years before I left New York. Clustered with severe mood swings and my anxiety, for several days of each month, I was a ticking time bomb. I did what I could to kick the mood swings with workouts that had me crawling toward a hot shower and relaxation techniques my therapist had taught me. Nothing helped but drugs and time. Though I’d been managing the clusterfuck for years, it still felt like a small Armageddon every single month. I was lucky enough to have a best friend as a boss who allowed me to slip away for a few days until the worst of it subsided. A shock wave of pain coursed through me and I tensed when another set of cramps hit hard.

  Some time later, with my eyes tightly shut I sensed I wasn’t alone.

  “Koti?”

  I wiped the tears from my face and pressed my chin to my chest to hide them.

  “Go away.”

  Ian stood to the side of my hammock. I could feel the day’s heat coming off him. Lifting my eyes, I noticed his skin had slightly bronzed from the sun. For the first time, I was able to study the solid wall of tattoos that covered his right pec—Semper Fidelis ran in a bold cursive pattern in the middle of two crossed swords on his bicep. He’d been a Marine. He’d also lost some of the weight around his middle in the last few weeks. If I wasn’t so engrossed in my pain, I might have noticed how long his eyelashes were and how they were so dark they looked wet and spread out in a beautiful pattern over his cheek when he looked down at me. If I wasn’t in complete agony, I might have noticed the fullness of his lips and the small white scar in a subtle divot on his chin where stubble refused to grow.

  “You’ve been crying for hours.”

  “I’m fine. Sorry about the noise.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach and bit my lip to keep from moaning. He scanned the porch and pulled the prescription bottle from the table and eyed it. I was too wrapped up to give a damn. Inside my body was unleashing hell.

  “What happened? You’re hurt?”

  “Ian, what do you want?”

  Meeting his gaze, I saw eyes filled with concern. It was completely ironic.

  “I’m fine.” Even as I said it, my voice shook and fresh tears leaked out of my eyes.

  He looked at me pointedly for a believable explanation, but I wouldn’t bring myself to tell him I had the most painful periods in the history of womankind. And every month I cursed Eve for her treacherous act because of that tempting apple.

  Ian opened the bottle and handed me another prescribed pill along with the bottled water I’d left on my table. I took the pill and swallowed it, overwhelmed by a fresh wave of cramping. I bared my teeth and grunted as it hit hard.

  “Jesus, Koti, what’s wrong?” It was odd seeing his concern for me. We’d remained complete strangers in his first few weeks on the island, yet I had felt the need to protect him from his own hurt. Maybe he was beginning to remember that for a few weeks, and endless summers ago, we were childhood friends.

  “It will pass. I just want to sleep.”

  “Okay.” He stood watching me shake for several moments before he reluctantly made his way off the porch.

  Hours later I awoke in a sweaty heap. The sun had set and the only light was the moon’s half glow. When I tried to shift in the hammock, I realized there was an arm wrapped around me. It tightened as I moved to get up.

  Ian’s smooth voice rumbled behind me. “Feeling better?”

  I wanted to ask him what in the hell he was doing. I wanted to fight him and throw his comforting efforts away as he had mine, but in truth, it felt amazing being in his arms. Suddenly, I was aware of his breath on my neck and the gentle stroke of his fingers on my stomach. The breeze covered us both as I laid mute, too exhausted to argue instead embracing his rare gift of comfort.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bastard,” he whispered, his apology sounding sincere. “Sleep.”

  I eased back into his strong hold as he took small liberties with his fingers. The weight of his body behind me was a reassuring reprieve from the constant ache. He pulled me tighter as the ocean breeze drifted over us. I pressed myself further into him and gripped the hand that stroked me as another debilitating wave took hold. I breathed through it as he murmured into my hair. Body tense, I cried quietly in his arms until I slipped back into an exhausted sleep.

  I barely stirred when the hammock moved some time later and when I woke up, I was alone.

  * * *

  A few days later, I emerged from my house feeling as if I’d been through a war. Ian had knocked on my door twice, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it. As I walked down the steps to get to my Jeep, I saw him unload a handful of wood onto his deck, his eyes intent on me. “You’re better then?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Ian’s eyes lowered to my sandals. “I see you are still fond of those dreadful gold sandals, but they suit you.”

  I smiled at him and he back at me.

  “Oh, I remember you, puffer fish. And your tacky sandals.”

 
; I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’ll ignore that snarky comment, seeing as how you aren’t being a complete ass today.”

  In our short summer together, years ago, he’d poked fun at my sandals when I refused to take them off. As a six-year-old, I was convinced my few wardrobe staples in life would be my father’s Fruit of the Loom white T-shirts that fell below my knees, gold belt, and matching sandals. I had a thing for Greek mythology, especially Aphrodite and I hadn’t really grown out of it.

  I shrugged, looking down to admire my new sandals. “Some things don’t change.”

  “But some things do,” he said carefully, studying me closely in my spaghetti strap white sundress. The morning sun’s effect paled in comparison to the current of heat that swept through me as our eyes locked. Ian broke contact first, pulling a hammer from one of the bags on the porch. With the way he swung that hammer, I felt like I had my very own Greek deity, my own Sucellus in front of me.

  He paused his hammer briefly when I ripped my eyes away and moved to leave. “I apologize again,” he offered, a small smile on his freshly licked lips, “repeatedly.”

  “You’re forgiven,” I said, watching a drop of sweat from the tip of his chin drip down to his navel and disappear below his waistband. I’d never wanted to be a drop of sweat so much in my life. “I’m off to work. If you need anything…”

  “Koti, I’ll take it from here,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I lingered in hopes of more conversation, but Ian turned his back and grabbed a box of nails. “Have a good day.”

  “You too.”

  Inside my Jeep, I stared at the ocean that lay beyond our houses.

  Decades of life separated the two of us and I was more curious than ever of what his years held.

  Nine hours later, I came home to a ripped and colorful sky. I went straight from my Jeep to the rocky shore and put my aching feet in the water. I glanced over my shoulder to see the Kemp house was dark. It didn’t surprise me in the least. Ian was still struggling with his hurts and didn’t want to share them. Pain didn’t disappear overnight. He needed time. He had wounds to lick. Another few days of silence between our houses confirmed as much.

  Chapter Ten

  Ian

  She had to be the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life and that was saying much. I’d been on every continent and to places most human eyes had never seen and even the most exotic-looking women couldn’t hold a candle to her. It wasn’t just her soul-filled eyes, perfect face, or full lips, her body was every man’s dream—petite, toned, curves, day-long legs, and perfect feet. She was a wet dream and the kicker was, she had no knowledge of it or at least didn’t use it to her advantage. From what I could tell she hadn’t a clue of just how attractive she was. Holding her that day in the hammock, her pained cries had been agony for me. I ended up taking too many liberties with my fingers. I knew how soft the skin of her stomach was. I’d traced the curve of her hips and reveled in the way she fit inside my arms. After hours of studying her beautiful face partially covered by sun-bleached hair, I had to get the hell out of that hammock. I was there to comfort her and grew unbearably hard as the minutes passed. The need to touch her more intimately had my skin on fire. She was in a great deal of pain and though it bothered me to see her in such a state, I had no idea how holding her that way would affect me. And it had, so much so that I couldn’t stop fantasizing about her days after.

  I slammed the hammer down as I tried to reason with myself. She looked so beautiful this morning in that dress with freshly glossed lips. My first instinct was to close the space to rid her of it and smear that gloss with my lips and cock.

  I wanted her and that was dangerous. I was in no position to offer her anything at all. I simply wasn’t ready to begin to trust another woman after what Tara had done to the rest of our relationship. Though it wasn’t Koti’s fault, I was too angry, too bitter, too unsure of my feelings at that point that a friendship would be pushing it. What was worse, and from what I could tell, the attraction was mutual and she had no idea that just moments ago, I was seconds away from pushing any moral thoughts aside and ravaging her. I discarded the hammer on the porch and laced up my takkies. I needed to clear my head.

  Koti had zero place in my life, nor I in hers. I had absolutely no desire to start anything, whether it be sexual or more, with any woman. Keeping my distance would be the only way to avoid a disaster and I was good at that. She’d granted me the space I asked for. In an attempt to wipe thoughts of her away, I began to jog down the beach. I wasn’t a teenage boy, I could handle attraction. It was nothing more than appreciation for the beauty that she was. An entanglement of any sort with me would only hurt her. With distance, I could rid myself of the ache to touch her.

  I sped up as Koti’s lingering gaze flashed through my head.

  Fuck.

  * * *

  Koti

  “What in the fack? Koti!”

  I hid in my bedroom with repressed laughter as the puppy squealed with cries. As soon as I saw her, I knew who her rightful owner was. It wasn’t a man’s dog, by any means, but Ian needed a friend and since he was opposed to the human kind, I’d taken it upon myself to get him a suitable companion. As soon as I put her down on Ian’s porch in a box she couldn’t climb out of, she began to howl bloody murder.

  “Just look at her, Ian.” I urged in a whisper spying their first meet from my window. I heard the thwack of his back door and a brief pause of silence. I was sure they were staring at each other. More silence followed, before the boom of a loud knock on my door.

  “Koti!”

  The pooch whimpered in his arms, still traumatized for being a fifteen-minute orphan.

  “I’m not dressed,” I yelled from the safety of my bedroom.

  “Then get dressed!” he ordered.

  “I have to shower,” I called out toward the door before slipping into my bathroom.

  He knocked again ignoring my lies. I went and took an unneeded shower to give them a chance to bond. When I emerged from my room minutes later, all was silent. I peered through my living room window and saw no sign of either of them. Curious, I peeked out of my back door to see if the coast was clear.

  “I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” Ian said with a lifeless voice sitting on my wicker loveseat with the tiny puppy in his lap. He slid thick fingers through her fur while her pink tongue darted out and rewarded his other hand in kind. “But this is the last thing I need.”

  I squared off and stepped onto the porch. “I disagree. Everyone needs a best friend.”

  “I can’t take on this responsibility.” His tone was distant, cold, his head down as he stared at the nameless dog.

  I spoke up, far too uncomfortable with the pain that still radiated from him. “I was thinking Disco, for a name. She looks like a Disco, doesn’t she?”

  “Koti,” there wasn’t an ounce of humor in his voice. Murky gray eyes trailed over my romper. For a flicker of a second, I had his attention and it felt way too rewarding.

  “Just give it a week, okay?”

  Ian stood from my love seat. Disco was dwarfed by his size, engulfed in his large hands. I inhaled his scent as he towered inches above me, his stubble had grown out slightly, but he never went more than a few days without shaving. In a little over a month, he’d settled nicely into the beach bum look. I was tempted to brush the unruly dark hair away from his brow. I felt inexplicably drawn to him while he stared at Disco as if she were going to speak. Rows of curly white and beige hair made up the most of her. She weighed no more than a few pounds. Her dark chocolate eyes stared back at him before she let out a squeak.

  I caught the subtle smile he tried to hide.

  Come on, Ian. Can’t you see she loves you already? She can give you a thousand of those smiles.

  I saw his decision before he spoke. “Again, I appreciate the gesture, but—”

  “I’m allergic.” Lie. “And I couldn’t bear to see
her homeless.” Another lie. I’d paid a fortune for her.

  Ian studied me with ill-tempered eyes. It seemed he was immune to my bullshit.

  “No.”

  “Ye-es.” I said in a sing-song voice. “She won’t be any trouble. Besides you’ve already entertained a hyena.” I grinned cheekily.

  He looked confused until he realized I was talking about his booty call. “Cute.”

  “What was that hyena’s name again?”

  Ian rolled his eyes as he gripped Disco and brought her to his face. Nose to nose they assessed each other before she licked him.

  “You will get along famously,” I cooed, itching to run my fingers through her hair.

  Ian sighed and stretched Disco out in front of him. I began to scratch my arms as he held the puffy pooch toward me. “Sorry, can’t. I’ll break out in hives.”

  A moment of silence passed between us as we stared each other down in challenge.

  “Koti, don’t do this, okay? I don’t need the hassle.”

  “You need her and she’s helpless.”

  “Damnit, woman, just take her.” When I shook my head, a furious Ian left my porch and walked back to his house slamming the door behind him.

  Hours later in bed, I heard the puppy cry and cringed with every loud protest, afraid for her because of her temperamental new owner. Who would have thought a dog that little would have such an amazing vocal range? It may not have been the best idea, but it made him accountable for something besides himself. Disco had needs and he would have to meet them and maybe, just for a few minutes a day, it would distract him from that hurt.

  Another agonizing hour later, the dog kept two houses on Vista Lane awake.

  “Oh, for fack’s sake!”

  I withered in my bed as Ian’s growl drifted between our houses. And then all went quiet. She was sleeping with him. I was sure of it.

  Lucky bitch.