by Jea Hawkins
Sabrina didn’t even know why she’d agreed to meet with her. Oh yes, you do. You hope she’ll validate your feelings for Blythe. And there was her traitorous heart, overriding her logical mind. She’d already set her emotional boundaries, but clearly she wasn’t paying attention to them.
“Say what you want about me, but I’m not the one who’s in trouble.” Miranda took another delicate bite of her cod. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it, but once it happens, there is no turning back.”
The statement made Sabrina’s teeth hurt. She knew what her sister was implying. No need to question that. It was a not-so-subtle reminder that Miranda had been there first. And chosen to drop Blythe like a hot potato.
“Whatever. Can we get to the point of why you even asked me to dinner?”
“Can’t I want to see my little sister and offer her the apology she deserves? You came charging into my TV studio a month ago to demand it and now, after considering the mess I put you in, I’m giving it.” Even with her soft-spoken response, there was a hardness in Miranda’s eyes, one Sabrina couldn’t decipher. “Do you remember all the times we fought, and our parents scolded me, because I’m older and I should know better?”
Sabrina lifted her eyebrows before nodding. “Yeah?” She drew out the word and continued to stare at her sister, certain this was a trap of some sort. Miranda didn’t apologize without some kind of selfish reason, even when she was truly in the wrong. If only Sabrina’s body would stop tensing, ready to fight or flee.
“Don’t you think I’ve grown up since then, enough to know when I’ve done something wrong? It was wrong of me to leave a stranger in your home without any explanation, and then set you up to play house with her all for the sake of publicity. I’m sorry for that.” Miranda leaned forward and whispered, “But I’m even more sorry that you decided to get involved with her. Don’t deny that you have. I could tell by the way you reacted to me insulting her when you came to the studio. It was inevitable and I knew it when I started this whole thing, but I don’t think it can end well.”
There it was, the real knife to her chest. Better than her back, Sabrina supposed. Her arms tingled and she pulled them close to keep from shivering. “I literally don’t see how that’s any of your business. You left her there, along with that wretched interview, and even dragged my publisher into this. When I confronted you, you told me to sleep with her. Now you’re telling me not to get involved at all.”
“Yes, I did all of that, but I didn’t think you would listen to me. Even if Jennifer showed up at your door, frothing at the mouth and demanding you make a fool of yourself so you could look good for the book launch, I thought you’d be stubborn. In fact, I was pretty sure you would kick Blythe out as soon as you could.”
This game-playing was wearing on Sabrina, making her not just tense, but jittery. Too bad she’d barely touched her food, but she couldn’t make herself eat it. Such a shame to waste it. First world problems, she reminded herself as she pushed away from the table.
“Don’t make a scene.” Miranda lowered her gaze to her own plate and continued to eat as though she hadn’t said anything wrong. “Eat your goddamn food and accept my apology.”
“Why would I accept a backhanded apology from you?” Sabrina asked. “No, I’m not playing your little game. I made my decision and I like having her around. She’s sweet, she’s smart, and she has the kind of hidden depths you could never appreciate.” She turned on her heel and walked through the restaurant, burning with shame.
At least she’d stood up for herself, but her sister’s words still had the power to make her feel like a kid again, small and powerless. Miranda loved to twist everyone and everything around her. Sabrina wouldn’t let that happen this time.
She stopped at the taffy shop and set her pocketbook on the counter to announce her arrival. Mike stepped out of the back room, straightening his t-shirt. “Hey there, cuz. I’m just closing up.”
“That’s okay. I won’t be long. Could I get a box of the classic taffy?”
“Sure.” Mike put on a pair of gloves, picked up the tongs, and started placing taffy inside a blue pastel box. “Hurricane Miranda must be here.”
“How did you guess?” Sabrina used her fingers to brush her bangs aside, the tickle of hair making her nerves jangle even harder. If she was going home to be alone and move on with her life, the fall-out from this confrontation would pass within a day. But one part of it was waiting for her there, which meant she would have a more difficult time forgetting Miranda’s words.
“You only load up on taffy after dealing with her. Is this about your little houseguest situation?”
Sabrina nodded and pulled her wallet out to pay. “Miranda has her opinions and I have mine. My feelings didn’t matter at first, but now she’s acting like they do. It’s weird.”
Without a word, Mike finished putting together her order and rang it up on the cash register. As Sabrina paid, she slanted a glance at him. Whatever he was thinking, he was keeping it to himself. For once. She pursed her lips when he returned her card to her.
“Okay, what is it?”
Mike shrugged and pushed the box across the counter. “I was just thinking… You know that time we were swimming and Miranda yelled ‘shark’?”
How could Sabrina forget? She and Mike were both seventeen and thought they were invincible as they hung out with their friends at Joseph Sylvia State Beach, within sight of the Jaws Bridge. Miranda was twenty-seven and an uninvited guest, because she not only thought she was invincible, but pretty much a goddess. Her group of old high school buddies had built their little beach site not far from Sabrina, Mike, and their friends. It’d been a reunion for Miranda and her old friends, while Sabrina and Mike were celebrating with their classmates one last time before starting their senior year.
Miranda had paraded around like the queen bee, telling anyone who would listen about her promotion to anchorwoman at the studio. She’d set Sabrina on edge from the get-go, which meant Sabrina ignored every word out of her mouth the rest of the night.
Including the moment her older sister yelped, “Shark!” while Sabrina and Mike swam.
“I thought it was a prank,” Sabrina murmured.
“Except it wasn’t. It was the first thing you would expect her to say, because she was always such a bitch. But you heard the difference in how she said it, the way her voice shook. There was real fear there and she wasn’t playing around.”
Sabrina dropped her gaze to the flimsy cardboard box now clutched between both of her hands. How could Mike take Miranda’s side? Neither of them had seen how she and Blythe connected, which meant they couldn’t judge.
“Just because she was right about the shark then doesn’t mean she’s right about it now.” Defensiveness thickened her tone.
Mike lifted his eyebrow, but didn’t say another word.
As she walked out the door, Sabrina wasn’t sure which was more fragile — the box of taffy or her heart.
Chapter Ten
Sabrina’s heart skipped a beat when Blythe opened the front door for her. The warm, outside air wafted into the house after her, along with the scent of flowers blooming everywhere. Their sweet aroma filled the deep breath Sabrina took to center herself. She had to put Miranda’s words to the back of her mind or, better yet, forget them. Because here was a beautiful woman waiting to welcome her home.
It was the kind of thing she’d always wanted, always dreamed of, but thought she could never have. Knowing it would end soon left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Blythe’s gaze dipped to the box after she closed the door behind them. “What’s that?”
“Taffy. I thought we could share it.” Sabrina wondered if Blythe could hear the pounding of her heart. Every moment made it harder to breathe.
Blythe reached out and looped one of Sabrina’s loose curls around her finger. “I love how thoughtful you are when it comes to me. I asked to see the island and experience the real Martha’s Vineyard, a
nd you’ve been a wonderful guide. You know I’ve watched you from a distance for a long time. Not here on the island, of course, but the trajectory of your career and every amazing book you’ve written.”
Sabrina looked down at her feet, the box growing heavier in her hands. She wouldn’t let herself see what Miranda wanted her to see — another gold-digging, fame-chaser who managed to find her way into Sabrina’s affections. I’m allowed to have a summer fling and I need something to keep the press around the book launch positive. Otherwise, she wins and I become a laughing stock.
The finger tugging at her curls shifted as Blythe leaned in and placed a kiss on the top of her head. It was all the invitation Sabrina needed to set the taffy on an end table and reciprocate. She leaned in to press her lips to Blythe’s. Electricity shot through her body when their mouths touched hers, a reminder that Sabrina was in over her head.
What had started out as a publicity stunt, something like jumping off a bridge into the ocean, had gone so much farther. She’d drifted out of sight of land and now she didn’t know which direction to go to get back. Tears leaked from behind her closed eyelids.
Rather than focus on finding her way back, Sabrina reached behind Blythe to entwine her fingers in her silky blonde hair, and pressed her deeper into the kiss. Taking control grounded her. She parted Blythe’s lips with her tongue and explored the wetness with hers. Blythe’s small gasps were intoxicating, as was the way her tongue traced Sabrina’s lips.
Sabrina would put logic aside yet again. How could she not give into the desire burning inside her? Blythe was like no woman she’d ever met and, damn it, she hardly knew her. What if she truly got to know her and found out she couldn’t let go at the end of the summer? What if Blythe didn’t feel the same?
Tonight, she would hold Blythe against her, press her tongue past the opening of her pussy, and claim her. She would take everything she needed, before the opportunity passed her by.
She didn’t dare speak. Instead, she eased her hand to the wet heat under Blythe’s skirt. No underwear. Of course Blythe would do that in anticipation of seduction any time of day. That was part of the fun, how adventurous she was.
Sabrina stroked her palm along the soft valley of her sex, eliciting a moan from Blythe. Everything within her demanded to hear that sound again and again and again, until Blythe went hoarse with pleasure. She could do this by stepping into character, setting aside everything but her own desire.
“I want to taste you,” Sabrina purred against Blythe’s half-open mouth.
“Sabrina…”
“I’m going to make you shake with ecstasy until you can’t stand it anymore.” Sabrina dropped to her knees, hands bunching Blythe’s skirt up and over her hips to reveal her target. Even when they went their separate ways in a couple more weeks after the launch party, Sabrina would make sure Blythe never forgot her. “I love the way you look in my bed, your hair across my pillows, the way you smile at me. But right now, we aren’t going to make love. I’m going to fuck you against the wall until you can’t take it anymore.”
Blythe moaned again and Sabrina straightened to touch her lips to her neck, her collarbone, and then her chest. The dress was too tight for her to get into this way, so she glided her hands over Blythe’s breasts to find her nipples. Both budded for her and Sabrina pinched them hard enough to elicit another helpless whimper. She slanted her mouth down over Blythe’s to cut off the sound, to remind her who controlled the moment.
When she drew back, Blythe blinked at her, all sweetness and innocence. On her face, at least. Sabrina tamped down the renewed suspicion that the same qualities didn’t dwell in her heart.
She resumed her descent, hands passing over Blythe’s stomach, back down to her thighs. With firm pressure, she parted them, forcing Blythe to lean back against the living room wall for balance. The muscles beneath her palms tightened in anticipation and Sabrina allowed herself a smile.
“Has anyone ever made you stand up and watch?” she asked.
“No…” The word blew out on a breath and Blythe blinked down at her, a blush rising in her usually pale cheeks.
“Good.” Sabrina moved her mouth to Blythe’s clit and swirled her tongue around it. Each movement made Blythe quake above her. The electricity Sabrina had felt when they kissed was now shared, passing between them. Sabrina changed her focus, plunging her tongue into Blythe’s core and lapping at her fiercely. The more she licked, consuming every inch of Blythe’s intimate flesh, the more the woman standing over her mewled. Fingers curled into her shoulders and Sabrina returned the favor by molding her hands to Blythe’s backside. All the better to keep her face pressed into that powerful, pulsing feminine heat.
With Blythe, she wanted to be closer than she had ever been to anyone. This was the way it should’ve been for Sabrina once upon a time, when she was younger and surrounded by eager fans. Too bad all of them paled in comparison to this woman.
Blythe groaned above her, hips shifting back and forth. Keeping up with her was the best part, a challenge Sabrina set for herself as she gripped those jerking thighs and pushed her tongue as hard as she could into Blythe.
Even when Blythe came, her release coating Sabrina’s mouth, Sabrina continued to swirl her tongue in and out of her. At first, Blythe’s nails dug into her with desperation, accompanying her constant refrain of, “Enough, enough, enough!”
But Sabrina wasn’t about to stop. Not now, with Blythe’s body quivering in and against her mouth. She needed to fulfill her promise.
When Blythe orgasmed a second time, Sabrina drank every bit of her in — not just the physical evidence of her bliss, but every little shudder and moan. To have this every night and the companionship every day… She was crazy to let herself even play act at it, because all she could think about was how she didn’t want to let Blythe go.
Somehow, they ended up entwined in bed as the sun set, both exhausted. Sabrina couldn’t stop staring at her fingers laced with Blythe’s.
“What is it?” Blythe asked, her voice raspy. The change in tone made Sabrina smile. It was what she’d threatened to do and she’d succeeded.
“It’s this hand of yours. You have the lightest freckles on it.” She pressed a kiss to the pale flesh. Moments like this were when the character she tried to play fell away and she wished she could be honest with Blythe. Sabrina rolled on her side and looked at her. If only her chest didn’t feel like it was about to explode with what she wanted to say.
Blythe blinked slowly and nodded. “There’s something else, though.”
“Yeah, there is. It’s what you said about the ocean once, your grandpa dying out there.”
Something about Blythe’s expression shuttered. “That’s an odd thing to bring up.” Every time either of them talked about family, she was so fast to dance away from the topic. Maybe it was time Sabrina didn’t allow her to do that.
Sabrina shook her head. “Not really. People are at their most honest after sex, I think. So I want to tell you that my uncle died out there, too, on February 12, 1983. He was a Merchant Marine, and the ship he was on… It was old, not seaworthy anymore, so awful things happened and it sank. You said maritime disasters aren’t what they used to be and part of that was because of what happened to my uncle and thirty other sailors that night. After that, there was a push for Coast Guard regulation reform that’s saved countless lives since.”
The way Blythe winced and squeezed her hand, Sabrina knew what she was going to say before the words emerged. “Yeah, but it’s wrong that your uncle or anyone had to die for that to happen.”
“Probably. But I wanted to tell you that I know what it’s like to lose someone you love to the ocean, and also what it’s like not to be able to get away from it yourself, even after something like that.” Now it was Sabrina who’d gone hoarse with telling the truth, with revealing more of herself than she’d dared ever since she’d let herself get caught up in this ridiculous relationship scheme.
Blythe sat upright, re
leasing her hand and facing her. “Sabrina—”
The phone rang, cutting her off. After five rings, it went to Sabrina’s answering machine. She knew it was funny that she still had one, but screening calls made life so much easier, especially when it came to her publisher, agent, or interviewers trying to get a hold of her.
“Sabrina, it’s Miranda.” Words Sabrina dreaded hearing whenever the machine pinged. “The network is throwing a party for my anniversary as anchor. It’s a big deal and you’re invited. I meant to mention it, but it slipped my mind. Its tomorrow night. Details are in your email. Bring Blythe. It’ll be more fun that way.”
Sabrina knew she wasn’t imagining the snide tone that accompanied her sister’s commanding invitation. Leave it to Miranda to not only find a way to intrude on an intimate moment, but to tear it to shreds.
Chapter Eleven