Shelter Me
Page 19
He needed air. He was tired of being trapped in this house. Tired of his responsibilities and all the bullshit that entailed. He yanked at the knot of his tie and flicked open another button at his throat. Flinging open the door, he stopped on the stoop and gulped down the clean, ocean air.
A small hand on his lower back helped more than the cool breeze. Sarah leaned into his side. “You okay?”
“My dad can’t live alone.”
She rubbed his back. “I know.”
“And I have to get back to work. My firm can’t afford to extend my leave any more. I’m between a rock and a hard place.”
“Let’s go for a walk.” Tucking her arm into his, Sarah guided him down the steps and toward the sidewalk. “Taina said she’d stick around for a bit longer.”
His muscles loosened with each step. “I thought you’d be sick of walking with the Marshall men by now.” She really was a godsend. The perfect woman at the perfect time. Did she ever think about leaving this small town? Living somewhere more exciting?
He sighed. He already knew the answer. With her family and practice in Shelter Bay, she wasn’t going anywhere.
As if reading his mind, she said, “It’s hard. For someone to pull up stakes and move.”
He looked down at her in surprise.
“Especially someone as set in his ways as your dad.”
Ah. She was talking about that move. “Hard or not, it needs to happen.” He looked over his shoulder. “And the house will need to be sold to pay for the care facility.”
“Don’t make any rash decisions.” Sarah chewed on her bottom lip. “You never know what might happen.”
His stomach hardened. “I know what’s going to happen. If I’m not at my desk at Carson Lang next week, I’m out of a job. If I leave my dad up here with a 24/7 nurse, we’ll both go bankrupt. If I leave my dad up here alone, there’s a good chance he’ll forget where he lives and wander away. Hurt himself. Only one course of action solves all those problems.” The course of action that made him out as the bad guy. The one who was going to ruin his dad’s remaining years.
Sarah slid her hand into his, the slight weight warm and comforting. She squeezed. “Come with me? I want to take you someplace I go when I’m upset.”
He looked back at his dad’s house. A couple shingles were missing on the roof. The yard was more weed than lawn. All things he should have fixed. He should have been coming up here weekends to help out, even before the heart attack.
His chest squeezed with sadness. Without the air for words, he nodded, and let Sarah tug him down the street. They walked a couple of blocks to State Road 1. She guided him along the shoulder, past Main Street and across the bridge that spanned the estuary. A car sped around them, and James wrapped his arms around her and pressed her close to the railing. “Walking along a highway probably isn’t our smartest move.”
She tugged him forward. “No, but it’s something us locals have always done. Come on, city boy.” She turned off on the first street after the bridge. They walked past a ten-foot iron gate guarded with three security cameras before Sarah ducked under a tree limb and disappeared down a faint dirt path.
He peered after her. “Um, we’re not breaking into this compound, are we?”
Her laughter floated back. “No, the path leads away from Haunted Hill. Now, come on scaredy-cat.”
He caught up to her in five strides, then caught a branch to the face when she released the one she was holding to step under. He spit out a pine needle. “It’s getting dark. You want to give me a heads-up on where we’re going before we walk off the cliff?”
Grabbing his hand again, she pulled him into a clearing. The ocean pounded on the cliffs in front of him, and a quarter-moon of trees enclosed them from behind. “We used to have bonfires up here.” She pointed at an uneven ring of rocks around a patch of charred earth. “But,” she said, dragging him toward the side of the cliff with a view of the bridge they’d crossed, “what I wanted to show you was this.”
They dropped behind a boulder, rounded the edge of the cliff, and stopped by a carve-out on the rocky cliff wall that looked like a shallow cave.
Sarah plopped down on a patch of beach grass and patted the ground next to her. “The sun is just about to set. This is the best seat in town.”
James believed her. Sitting next to her, he stretched out his legs, wrapped an arm around Sarah’s waist, and tucked her close to his side. The rock was cold but smooth against his back and the off-shore breeze had died down. The dark ocean spread out before them. Across the inlet, the town of Shelter Bay glistened like a tiny jewel, the windows of the storefronts on Main Street catching the waning sunbeams and reflecting them back.
“Wow,” he said quietly. “This view is spectacular.”
She snuggled in close. “I’m glad even a city-slicker like you can appreciate it.”
One edge of his lips turned up. “It’s too peaceful up here to get you back for that remark.” They watched the sun dip into the Pacific, the skies above dwindling from a bright tangerine into pinks and purples.
The view blurred. James blinked against the tears he never thought he’d shed. Tears for his dad. For both of them. “I’m scared.” The words shocked even himself. They weren’t words he ever thought he’d say to a woman. Or admit to himself.
“I know,” she said softly. “This is going to be one of the hardest times of your life. It’s okay to be scared.”
He huffed out a laugh. “It’s going to be one of the hardest parts of Oswald’s life, no doubt. He has Alzheimer’s, did you know that?”
She nodded.
“He must be terrified. He’s the one slowly losing his mind. He’s the one who this affects.” James swallowed. “But it’s me I’m thinking of. With my mom gone, he’s the only one who remembers certain parts of my life. Who knows how I’d sulk when I didn’t get ice cream after dinner. How I loved our first dog.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rock. “He knows my childhood better than I do. And when he forgets it…” It would be like part of James disappeared, as well.
“His disease affects everyone who loves him,” Sarah said. “You have the right to hurt.”
James buried his nose in her braid. Brushing the fishtail over her shoulder, he placed a soft kiss on the nape of her neck. “Thanks for bringing me here.” For getting his mind off his problems, if only for a moment. He dug a knuckle into his breastbone. Damn, he was going to miss her. Even if they tried to make it work long distance, it wouldn’t be the same.
She shifted onto one hip to face him more fully. “I wish I could do more for you. Help you somehow.”
He smiled. “I know. You just can’t help yourself. Always wanting to help an animal in need.”
“No.” Sarah lifted her thigh and tossed it over his legs. Straddling him, she scootched close. “Helping animals is a duty. You, James Marshall, are a pleasure.”
He cupped her rear, loving how she filled his palms. How she filled every part of him. “I haven’t been very pleasing yet today, but that’s something I can change.” There was at least one thing he had control over. One way to find joy.
He memorized her body with his hands. Her gasps melted into the breeze. The soughing of the trees melded with her moans. She took everything he gave her until she could take no more. Then it was a race, each person removing only the bare amount of clothing necessary. James’s eyes rolled back in his head when Sarah sank down on his length in one slick movement.
“Oh Christ.” He rested his head back on the rock. How was he going to survive without this? Without her? Pleasure shivered down his length, and it made him think stupid thoughts. Thoughts like maybe this didn’t have to end. That one of them would bend and move to live with the other. That Sarah would be worth any upheaval in his life.
She glided up and down. Her soft, wet walls clutched at him. Beads of sweat pooled at his temple, before drying in the evening breeze.
He fumbled with her hair elastic and tugged her braid loose. Her soft hair tangled in his hands, and he groaned. So fucking perfect. He skimmed his palm under her shirt to cup one breast. He flicked her lace-covered nipple, and she arched into his hand, her pace faltering.
“James…”
“I know, baby.” This wasn’t just amazing sex. This was something more. A connection he’d never felt with a woman.
His thoughts were pushed out of his head with his building pleasure. She came apart in his arms, and it didn’t take him long to follow her over. They caught their breath together, arms wrapped tight around each other’s backs, his cock still buried inside of her.
She dropped her cheek to his shoulder as he rubbed circles into her back. The ocean was now as black as onyx, only the lights from Shelter Bay lighting the sky.
“I’m going to miss you when me and my dad go back to San Francisco.” He swallowed. “I don’t suppose living in the city has ever appealed to you.”
Sarah’s body turned to wood in his arms. Sighing, he rubbed his palm up her spine. “I know. Stupid question. But I had to ask.” He forced his voice to be light. Like the idea of leaving her wasn’t killing him. But there was no way he could earn enough money living up here to pay for his dad’s care. He had to go back.
“No, that’s not why…” She pulled away, taking her warmth. “I mean, I get it. Your life is in the city. But I just don’t think you should be thinking about moving your dad right now.”
James tucked himself away and zipped up. “I told you. It’s the only way we can afford his care. Paying for years of a private nurse isn’t realistic.”
“But he doesn’t have—” Sarah jerked her head to the side, biting off her words. Crawling off of him, she stood and adjusted her clothes.
James followed her up. “He doesn’t have what?”
“Nothing. I didn’t mean anything.”
His heart beat hollowly in his chest. “He doesn’t have what? What were you going to say?”
“It’s time we got back,” she said, her voice cheerful. Forced.
James narrowed his eyes. When she turned away, he grabbed her wrist. “Tell me.” What could she possibly say? Or know? She wasn’t his dad’s doctor. Or his nurse. Or even his friend. There was no way she could know anything he didn’t.
She tilted her head up, the moonlight catching her eyes, making them shimmer with sympathy.
Something cold and dark pierced his chest. “What do you know?” he demanded.
“It’s not my place to say.” She pulled her hand from his. “Go talk to your dad.”
“I’m asking you.” James didn’t recognize his own voice. Rough. Desperate.
Scared.
“Please tell me,” he whispered.
She blew out a breath. “Your dad has terminal cancer. He says he doesn’t have much time left.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. But you don’t have to move him. You won’t have to worry about affording long-term care.”
And with those words, James’s stomach dropped to the bottom of the ocean.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I’m so sorry.” The back of Sarah’s throat burned. She had to deliver bad news to pet owners on occasion, but it didn’t compare to this. “He didn’t want you to know. Didn’t want you to feel any more burdened.”
“Burdened?” James shoveled his hand through his hair. “Now he cares about being a burden? He has almost no savings. No money to cover this. He’s done absolutely nothing to ensure that he will be taken care of. And now he drops this on me?”
She bit her lip. People expressed grief in many different ways. She got it. But blaming a man for having cancer seemed extreme. “I know this is a blow, but you still have some time. Time to make things right between you and your dad. Time to…” say goodbye. It was a chance she’d never had with her mom. She swallowed.
James stalked up the path to the plateau. “Time to be a nursemaid, you mean. Christ, what am I expected to do? Wipe his ass and hold his hand as he dies? He was never there for me. Never.” He slashed a hand through the air. “And now I’m expected to… what? Help him face his death?” His voice cracked on the last word.
He spun around so quickly Sarah stumbled into him. He gripped her shoulders, his eyes wide with a hint of panic. “Tell me,” he said, his voice hoarse, “why is this my fucking responsibility?”
She laid a hand over his pounding heart. “Don’t look at it as a responsibility. He’s your family. Spending time with him will be good for you, too.”
He snorted. “Not everyone has a family like yours. Not everyone is desperate to make connections, terrified of being alone. Some of us have been doing just fine by ourselves.”
Sarah staggered back. Her stomach clenched. He was hurting. Lashing out. But damn it, did he have to hurt her in the process? “Right. Of course. I shouldn’t presume to know how you feel.” She sucked in a deep breath. “But I have an idea—”
“I know all about your ideas. You want me to bend over backwards to make Oswald happy in his last months. Bite my tongue so he never knows how much I resent him. Lie to him so he dies content.”
Heat rushed up the back of her neck. That hadn’t been her idea. Her idea had been about helping James find volunteers to help watch Oswald. But was it wrong to try to make a dying man happy? What was wrong with James to think that was a bad thing?
She crossed her arms and looked out over the ocean. It was dark except for the ragged line of white caps illuminated by the moon. “Your dad isn’t expecting anything from you. He has friends here. So you can run away like a little boy and leave him to die.”
“I didn’t say—” He hissed in a breath. “Fuck it. I’m out of here.”
James strode to the tree line. He stumbled along the edge until he found the path, then disappeared into the darkness.
A vise squeezed her heart, the pain visceral. Well. Sarah wiped her cheek with her sleeve. That was that. He was gone, and good riddance. Any man that wouldn’t be there for his dying father was no one she wanted to know, much less be involved with. If he left tomorrow, chances were she’d never speak to him again. Hell, the way he was acting, he might blow out of here tonight. With no goodbye. No—
“Are you coming?” he hollered from the trees.
Sarah hunched her shoulders. “No!”
A bush rustled, and his dark form stumbled under a tree limb and straightened. “I’m not leaving you out here in the dark. Now come on.”
“I’ve been out here in the dark plenty of times, both by myself and with other men.” There. He could stuff that in his pipe and smoke it.
His tall shadow stalked toward her. “Maybe those men were asshole enough to leave you alone in the dark, but I’m not.” He reached for her hand. “Now let’s go.”
She ducked under his arm and trotted a few steps away. She couldn’t believe her ears. Was he actually implying that he wasn’t an asshole? “No. I know this area like the back of my hand. I’m safer out here than you are. Don’t pull this macho BS with me.”
James stared at the moon, muttering under his breath.
Sarah blinked rapidly. She needed him gone. She liked privacy for her breakdowns, and this was going to be the mother of all breakdowns.
She and James were over. That little flame of hope that they could somehow make it work had been ruthlessly pinched out.
She muffled a whimper. She’d never hurt so much. Which told her something bad. She was head over heels in love with this arrogant, selfish, jerk of a man.
And he was leaving her.
He blew out a breath. “You’re right. You do know this area better than me.” He rested his hands on his hips. “So you need to walk me home to make sure I’m safe.”
Sarah was grateful for the darkness. Grateful James couldn’t see the tears that rolled down her cheeks. He was an arrogant jerk, and he was also kind and honorable and lovely.
And he was leaving her.
If she could just keep ahead of him, then she wouldn’t have to watch him leave.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Goooaaaallllll!”
Sarah jerked awake. Her mind was white fuzz and she tried to figure out where she was. A glass bottle rolled against her hip. Light streamed through her venetian blinds, drawing rows of light across her bedroom floor.
Picking up the wine bottle, she peered into the opening. Empty.
Oh. Right. That had happened last night.
A sports announcer from her TV shouted again, and Sarah flopped back onto her pillows. Why did her father have to be a soccer fan? It was a worldwide sport, so Harry was able to find a game in any time zone at any hour of the day. Or morning.
Her alarm clock bleated, and Sarah groaned, grabbing her throbbing head. She gave up on the idea of more sleep and smacked the alarm off. She placed the bottle on her nightstand and rolled out of bed. Time to face the day.
Was James packing his car right now? Or was he already halfway down the coast? Pulling on a pair of soft cotton pants and a long-sleeved tee, she stumbled to her bathroom and peered in the mirror. Dark circles and rat’s-nest hair faced her. She didn’t own much makeup but she must have something that could help her look less like death-warmed over.
She pulled out her makeup bag, stared at it, then put it away. Why bother? There was no one to care how she looked. So as she wouldn’t scare her clients, she ran a brush through her hair and pulled it back in a low ponytail.
She peeked into her living room on the way to the kitchen. Harry sat on the couch with his feet kicked up on her coffee table. The room smelled of stale smoke and coffee. A large paper cup from Expresso was planted next to his feet.
“Morning, Harry.” She yawned. “Any more of that coffee around?”
“Morning.” He dropped his feet to the floor and turned on the couch. “Sorry, I didn’t get you one. Didn’t know when you’d wake up.”