Seaside Secrets

by Melissa Foster

  He lowered her to the bed and followed her down. She circled his neck with her arms and arched up with a needy moan when he tried to reluctantly draw away from her. He moved beside her on the bed, finally pulling back from her delicious mouth and their mind-numbing kiss. He brushed her hair from her forehead and kissed the corners of her mouth, feeling her hot breath against his cheeks, spurring him to take more than he intended. He kissed her forehead, the soft indentation beside her eye, her jaw, and God help him for being weak, he allowed himself a luscious taste of her collarbone. She was his drug, even after all these years.

  She arched her neck and fisted her hands in his hair, jolting him back to reality.

  “Yes.” Her needy whisper cut him to his core.

  He needed more of her. All of her. He didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t ready. Would he ever be? He sealed his lips over hers, probing, memorizing, claiming her mouth as his. She met him stroke for eager stroke. His hand slid down her rib cage to the hem of his T-shirt she was wearing and met her bare hip bone. Well, fuck him. What was he doing? One slide of his hand and he’d feel just how ready she was for him. How wet, how eager.

  He could only imagine.

  He forced himself to tear his lips from hers and pulled back with a gasp for air.

  “We have to stop.”

  “No.” She pulled him toward her again.

  He smiled at her determination, so reminiscent of that incredible—and treacherous—summer.

  “Tony, please.”

  He was quickly careening toward giving himself up to her. To be one hundred percent utterly and completely hers once again was everything he wanted. He was weakening again. She needed strong.

  He needed to stop.

  Now.

  “Babe,” he panted out. “We have to stop.”

  “Noooooo.” She buried her face in his chest and clutched his arms for dear life.

  “I’ll never forgive myself if we do this, Amy. Not now.”

  Not until I know we can deal with the past and move forward without regret. Not until I’m sure you won’t send me away again. He couldn’t say either of those things; all he could do was frame it in a way that hopefully wouldn’t scare her off.

  “Not until I can prove to myself, and to you, that I can be the man you deserve and the only man you’ll ever need.”

  Chapter Eight

  THE NEXT MORNING Amy sat on Bella’s deck wearing Tony’s T-shirt from last night and her sleeping shorts, with four sets of eyes on her. Four, not three. Four. Apparently Sky had had a nagging intuition that something big was going on at Seaside and she didn’t want to miss out. Sky had grown up on the Cape. She’d come back to help run their father’s hardware store when their father went into rehab two summers ago, and she’d fallen back in love with the area and was here to stay. She’d also quickly become another Seaside bestie. At the moment she had her feet tucked beneath her legs, her long cotton skirt tangled around her knees, and her tie-dyed tank top slipping off one shoulder while Jenna painted her fingernails a deep shade of purple.

  “Well?” Bella pushed. She and the other girls were still wearing their pajamas, too. They were all braless. Bella wore a tank top and shorts, while Leanna and Jenna had on camis and silky shorts to match.

  I really need to sex up my sleepwear. She glanced down at Tony’s shirt and decided she’d rather wear Tony’s shirt than sexy lingerie any day of the week.

  Amy glanced at Tony’s empty driveway. He’d gone surfing, of course. He lived and breathed surfing. He scheduled his summer days around the surf as much as she tried not to schedule hers around anything. It was one of the things she’d always loved about him. He was dedicated to being the best in everything he did, which was why, after he’d left last night and her hormones had finally calmed down, she understood his need to be the best for her, too. If only he’d understand that to her he was already the best.

  “As I said.” She lowered her voice to a whisper even though Tony was gone. Kurt was at his keyboard on Leanna’s deck, and Caden and his almost eighteen-year-old son, Evan, had run out to pick up a few things that Evan needed for his first semester of college in the fall.

  The girls leaned forward expectantly.

  “We talked.” She was still a little numb. She could still hardly believe they had kissed after all these years, and while she wanted to stand on the table and shout, I finally kissed Tony Black! she worried that it might jinx whatever chance they had for something more. What if he hadn’t meant all the things he’d said? Maybe she’d pushed too hard and he’d given in just because he didn’t want to hurt her any more than he already had.

  Bella threw her hands up in the air. “Seriously? All this afterglow is caused by a talk? You freaking have a freshly satisfied grin on your face. I’m not buying it one bit.”

  Leanna patted Bella’s shoulder and spoke softly. “Bella, give her a little space. It’s okay if all they did was talk. Depending on what they said, that could be a much bigger deal than having sex.”

  Bella rolled her eyes. That seemed to be the theme for the morning.

  “I agree.” Sky waved her wet fingernails in the air. “When I fall in love, like really fall in love, I’m going to wait to have sex.”

  Jenna threw her head back and laughed, loud and hearty.

  “You have no idea what you’ll do, Sky.” Jenna put her foot up on her chair and began painting her toenails. “I know Petey’s your brother and you probably don’t want to hear this, but there is no way I could have waited any longer to be in his arms. Love is like this amazing, all-consuming force that sneaks up on you and steals all those brain cells that make you think rationally and replaces them with emotions so powerful that you’re impotent to change their course.”

  “I gotta say, I totally agree,” Leanna said. “But I also agree with Sky’s idea. I mean, I couldn’t have resisted my feelings for Kurt, but I think there’s some value in waiting to have sex.”

  Bella patted Sky’s foot. “You’re trying to tell me that you haven’t slept with Blue?” She laughed.

  “Seriously?” Sky slapped her hands on the table. “You ask me that all the time. No. No. And no, again. I told you we’re just really good friends.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who sleeps at his place,” Bella said.

  “We’re friends. We watch movies and hang out,” Sky explained.

  “Either you’re a very good liar, missy, or you’re full of shit.” Bella pointed at Sky. “Either way, fifty bucks says when you either fess up about Blue or find the man who is your forever love, there is no way you’ll be able to hold back from the big bang.”

  Amy arched a brow. “The big bang, Bella? Can’t it be a little more romantic, like the big love, or lovingly naughty?”

  “Your sweetness is showing, sugar,” Bella said.

  Amy was deflecting, as she had done for years. She wanted to pull her closest friends around her like a shield and share the secret that had nearly killed her in college. The secret she’d been denying existed for fourteen years. The secret that, if she hadn’t buried it deeper than the earth’s core, she wouldn’t have survived.

  She’d lost Tony’s child.

  Our child.

  She should have told Tony that summer afternoon instead of agreeing to go surfing first. She shouldn’t have wanted one last time to feel that high of the waves with him behind her, watching her, being proud of what she could do. She’d loved sharing in the one thing that brought him freedom from the confines of his father’s overbearing nature that summer, and she’d just wanted one more moment of it before telling him she was pregnant. She knew he’d never let her surf if he’d known.

  She’d been so afraid that someone would get wind of their relationship and that they’d had sex that summer, and then her father would have…God, to this day she had no idea what he would have done. If she hadn’t lost the baby, they’d have told him, wouldn’t they? How would he have reacted? She hadn’t thought of that since the night she lost the
baby. She’d always been the light of his life, his little girl. She’d never stepped over his carefully outlined boundaries or breached his confidence and trust…until that summer, when she couldn’t hold back. Denying her feelings for Tony would have killed her. And now, as she looked into the eyes of the women who had been there for as long as she could remember, her betrayal of their trust hit her like the wave that had taken her under so long ago.

  Jenna clapped her hands. “I’ve got it! The deep impact! Or…or…” Her eyes lit up. “In Tony’s case, the big wave.”

  “Well, he does surf on an ocean. How about the big O?” Leanna laughed.

  “Oh, oh, oh! Surfer words! I’ve got this. I surfed when I was a teenager.” Sky waved her hands in the air. “Pumping the pipe! Banging the barrel? Or how about riding the bomb?”

  Amy wasn’t laughing. Listening to them reference sex and surfing brought her back in time. Would she ever get past it completely? She remembered the panic attacks she’d succumbed to when she’d gone to Brown after that fateful summer. She’d barely saved her grades and learned to overcome them with the help of a counselor. But she had overcome them, and she was strong enough to push away those memories now and enjoy her friends, who were doing what they always did, keeping things real. If only they knew how real things had become that summer.

  Banging the barrel? “You guys, stop,” Amy pleaded. “This is Tony we’re talking about.”

  “Exactly.” Bella raised her brows. “Ready to fess up?”

  “We kissed, okay? One toe-curling, earth-shattering kiss that left me unable to even say goodbye when he left.” She exhaled loudly, relieved to get their kiss off her chest.

  “Wow.” Bella sat back and smiled.

  “Toe curling? A toe-curling kiss?” Sky twisted the ends of her hair around her finger. “See? You didn’t even need sex.”

  Leanna touched Amy’s knee. “Does that mean that you’re not moving?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know what it means. He said I deserve a better man than him.”

  “A better man than a walking God? Right.” Jenna laughed. “Like they’re a dime a dozen. What’s got into him? Did you go down on him?”

  “Jenna!” Amy snapped.

  “What? That’d get his mind back where it belongs. Just sayin’.” She held up the bottle of nail polish and pretended to suck it.

  “While I totally get what Jenna’s saying…” Sky smiled at Jenna. “Talking is where it’s at. Blow jobs should be reserved until after the guy’s pleasured you so much that you can barely stand to have him on top of you because you’re so worn out and satisfied that you can hardly breathe. A little hand and tongue action and voila! You’re done. Happy man, happy woman.”

  Amy held her hands up in surrender. “I’m so sorry I said anything. We aren’t like that.” Not that I don’t want to be. “We’re in the talking stage. Part of me thinks he kissed me just because I wanted him to so badly, but it didn’t feel like that kind of kiss.”

  “Oh, honey,” Leanna said. “You’re just worrying because this has been so many years in the making. When are you seeing him again?”

  Amy shrugged, as if maybe Leanna were right, but she knew the truth. Their past was like an ocean between them, rising and falling with their thoughts and heated glances, waiting to rise up and come crashing down again.

  “We didn’t really talk about seeing each other. He just apologized and said some of the nicest things a guy could ever say. Then…we kissed.” Tony’s words floated through her mind for the millionth time that morning. You’re everything to me, Amy. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of before I fall asleep.

  “Care to elaborate on nicest things?” Bella asked.

  “No. It’s too easy to latch on to them and hope he meant them. There was something in his eyes when he said them. It wasn’t doubt, but hesitation, maybe?” Maybe even mistrust. How could he ever trust her again after she’d turned him away so harshly when all he’d wanted to do was heal their pain?

  “Well, if he thinks you deserve a better guy than him, that’s total BS,” Leanna said. “Maybe he got cold feet. I don’t know for sure, but he probably did feel a little hesitant to reveal how he felt.”

  “Well…he is a bit of a player,” Bella added with a soft tone and a compassionate gaze.

  Amy kicked her under the table. “Thanks. As if I wasn’t doubting the moment enough already.” She crossed her arms on the table and rested her forehead on them, trying to rein in her hopes.

  “I don’t mean it like that. I just mean that he doesn’t really have a track record of long-term relationships,” Bella explained. “He’s probably scared shitless of actually committing.”

  “None of us had a particularly great track record of long-term relationships, Bella.” Leanna layered a croissant with jam and slid it over to Amy. “Amy, try my new flavor, Sweet Heat. Food always helps.”

  Amy lifted her eyes to Leanna. “Sweet Heat?”

  “Just taste it. I promise it’ll make you feel better. My friend Joanie from the flea market suggested I try to create something sweet and spicy.” She pushed the plate closer to Amy. “Come on.”

  Amy sat up, pulled off a corner of the croissant, and popped it into her mouth. Her mouth exploded with the savory sensation of jalapeños and something sweet and tart. “Oh my God. This is crazy good, and the name is perfect. It tastes kind of sexy.” She picked up the jar of Luscious Leanna’s Sweet Treats jam and looked over the green and red label. “Sweet Heat. I love it.” She pushed the plate to the center of the table. “You guys have to taste this.”

  While they oohed and aahed over Leanna’s new flavor, Amy mulled over the sweet heat she’d experienced last night. While she was over the moon about finally kissing the man she loved with all her heart, she had to wonder—if he didn’t trust himself to be the man she deserved, should she?

  TONY STOOD AT the edge of the surf with a handful of other surfers who had also come out early to catch the waves. As with any sport, there was an unspoken kinship among surfers. One glance spoke volumes about sucky waves, riptides, the agony of defeat, or the elation of a kick-ass ride. Tony tried to keep a low profile when he surfed at the Cape, but in the surfing world he was a celebrity, and there wasn’t an easy way to hide his identity when he had a board under his arm.

  Even in his wet suit he knew he was bulkier than most of the surfers on the Cape. Most were surfing for fun, not competition. Tony got up early for his five-mile runs, spent hour upon hour surfing, and trained in just about every fashion his body could handle. His fitness regimen didn’t stop there. He fueled his body with as much planning as he used for his workouts, and his mental abilities were just as honed, studying the physicality of all sports—not just surfing—and staying abreast of medical treatments for injuries and current events. Tony believed in being well rounded. There was a reason he was a leader in everything he did—and he probably had his father to thank for that. Proving himself to the man he’d spent years looking up to, and their last summer together, loathing in equal measure, had been just the impetus he’d needed to push himself to the edge.

  That was also the reason he would become the best damn man he could for Amy. No matter what it took. If he was capable of succeeding in other aspects of his life, he was capable of using that same determination for her. Although, as he stood on the shore beside the other surfers, gauging the water and thinking of Amy, he knew he was overlooking the most important part of the equation. There was one thing he had never been able to overcome, and last night’s kiss brought it all home once again. He hadn’t ever overcome the devastation that she’d cast him aside so easily. She’d moved on without ever looking back, and he’d nearly drowned in her wake. He wondered if he’d be able, or willing, to push past that and open his heart to her completely, the way he had back then.

  “Mom! That’s him. I told you he was here!” A little boy ran up to Tony, kicking sand all over his feet, and grinned up at him
. He was all knees and elbows, topped off with a spiky mop of dark hair.

  “Jonah, slow down. Don’t bother him.” His mother trailed behind him wearing a black one-piece bathing suit and an embarrassed smile.

  “It’s all right,” Tony said casually as the kid tugged on his wet suit. “What’s up, buddy?”

  “You’re Tony Black.”

  Tony laughed. “Yeah, I am. What’s your name?”

  “Jonah. Jonah Mickelow. I’m gonna be a surfer when I get older. Mom says I have to be eight, so I have two more years before I can learn, but I’m gonna do it. And I’m gonna break your records and be better than you.” His dark eyes were wide, his voice high and excited.

  “Another two years, huh? Then I’d better do my best over the next two years.”

  “Yeah, ’cause I’m gonna be good.” The little boy turned toward his mother. “This is my mom. She and her friends said you’re hot. I wanna be hot when I’m old like you.”

  His mother turned a shade of crimson and mumbled, “Oh God, Jonah.”

  Tony laughed. Out of habit, his eyes rose to the dune, where Amy often sat and watched him surf. His heart nearly stopped. She was there, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms crossed over them, and her chin resting smack-dab in the center.

  She’d watched him a million times, almost always by herself, and she never came down to the beach. She’d stay for a while, and he’d get engrossed in surfing and look for her a while later, and she’d be gone. He didn’t want her gone this time.

  The little boy tugged on his suit again. “Can you autograph something for me?”

  “Absolutely.” Tony glanced at Amy again, excited that she was there; then he looked at the boy’s mother.

  “Oh. Um. I don’t really have anything to write on, honey.”

  “I’ve got you covered, buddy.” Tony headed up the beach toward his gear. He had a soft spot for children, and over the years he’d gotten in the habit of having a pad and paper on hand. He remembered the excitement of watching the pros in action and the anticipation of one day meeting them, stalking the beaches they frequented and waiting for the perfect opportunity. Having been the eager kid and knowing it was that eagerness that led to determination, Tony made sure that no kid seeking an autograph went home empty-handed. Now he looked down at the enthusiastic little boy and wondered if his feeling toward kids had more to do with the loss he’d experienced with Amy and less to do with stalking pro surfers when he was younger.