Barefoot Bay: When You Touch Me (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Marilyn Baxter

  The bouquet hung limply at his side. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “That’s certainly a first,” she replied sarcastically. “But that’s something you can work out with Evan. Or maybe with a therapist because I don’t have time to deal with your crap anymore. I have my own life to deal with.”

  “Problems in paradise, Jilly Bean?”

  She cringed at the nickname and the memories it invoked.

  “You could say that. I’m still on probationary status, and my failure with you could prove to be a real problem.”

  Tears pricked the back of her eyelids, and damn it, she was not going to cry in front of him. She blinked rapidly, cleared her throat. “You can go back to your villa for now. Or hit the beach. Oh that’s right, you don’t like the sand,” she said, hating the bitchy tone in her voice. “I’ll get Evan lined up and the receptionist will let you know when he’s ready for you.”

  She yanked the door open and left before the tears began. She might cry over him, but she wouldn’t cry in front of him. She wouldn’t give him that power. She hurried to the reception area, swiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  “Is Jocelyn in?” she asked Lara. She wanted to get this done before she remembered just how wonderful she had felt in Sam’s bed and changed her mind.

  “Let me buzz her to make sure she’s free.”

  Minutes later, Jillian sat in front of her boss’s desk and requested to have Sam’s case transferred to Evan. “I believe he will respond better to a male therapist. Sam and I…we never quite seemed to click.”

  Jocelyn shot her an amused look, and Jillian’s heart sank to her stomach over the lie. She and Sam had clicked. They had clicked all too well. They had been a perfect fit. Despite all her efforts to conceal what had transpired between her and Sam, her boss had found out. She was sure of it.

  Failure to connect with a massage therapist wasn’t uncommon, and that alone wasn’t grounds for dismissal. But sleeping with a client? She might as well resign before Casa Blanca took steps to dismiss her. Resignation always looked better on a résumé than termination.

  “I…I’m also going to hand in my notice. I’ll type it up tonight, but I wanted to give you a heads up so you could start looking for a replacement.”

  Jocelyn sat silently for so long that Jillian began to squirm uncomfortably. “Are you sure? You’ve done a great job here, Sam Hartman aside. I’ve seen what a challenge he can be.”

  “I have a lot on my plate personally, too. I’m not sure it won’t interfere with my work here.”

  “We’re flexible at Casa Blanca.”

  Jocelyn was giving her every possible out. But Jillian…she wasn’t sure she could or should stay. In her mind she had failed. And failure wasn’t an option for her.

  “Go home and I’ll get Sam squared away with Evan. Think about this over the weekend, okay? Really think about your options. And then come back and talk to me on Monday. Promise?”

  Jillian gave a forced smile and nodded her consent. She wasn’t convinced several days would make much difference. They wouldn’t erase the events of the past week. They wouldn’t magically solve her problems with Mimosa Memories. And they sure wouldn’t make the morning she had spent in bed with Sam disappear.

  “I promise.”

  “And try not to let this dampen your sister’s homecoming either. She’ll be home late this afternoon, right?”

  “Around six o’clock unless they run into heavy traffic.”

  “It will all work out. I feel sure it will. At one point my life was as screwed up as it could get. But you’d be surprised how things can work out if you open your heart to the possibilities.”

  Jillian left the spa office with her boss’s words still ringing in her head.

  Open her heart.

  Wasn’t her heart the problem and not the solution?

  * * *

  Just before six, Jillian stood among the small crowd, which had congregated in front of her house to wait for Becca’s arrival. Aunt Daffy had taken the SUV because the higher profile vehicle was easier for Becca to get in and out of than a VW bug. Daphne’s cake plus an array of other foods brought by friends and neighbors waited in the dining room. Someone had even hung a Welcome Home banner across the front of the house.

  Jillian glanced around at the gathering. She spotted Charity along with her daughter, Gloria Garrison, who worked at the spa’s hair salon. Since her return, Jillian had learned Glo had come to the house during Althea’s illness to shampoo and dry her hair. At the end of the porch, she recognized several of Becca’s high school friends. Jillian realized sadly that she’d left her island friendships behind in her hurry to escape Mimosa Key.

  She was pulled from her thoughts when a cheer arose and the dark blue SUV approached the house and pulled into the drive with…Becca at the wheel?

  Chapter Twelve

  Becca could drive?

  Daphne exited the passenger side and pulled a suitcase from the rear hatch. The driver’s side door opened and Becca slid out.

  Five foot two, with golden brown hair and honey brown eyes, Becca stood beside the car as the crowd cheered. She wore her hair in a stylish chin-length bob with feathered bangs that skimmed her eyebrows. Her white and pink floral print sundress fell to just below her knees, and the only indications of any disability were her sturdy sandals and a bright pink cane that nearly matched the flowers in her dress.

  With the assistance of the cane, she walked confidently toward the group, which immediately surrounded her and showered her with hugs and words of congratulations.

  Jillian hung back, taking it all in as Daphne moved to her side. “Well you can color me stunned,” she said to the older woman. “No leg braces, a cane and driving. When did all this happen?”

  “The braces disappeared a couple years ago along with the crutches. Becca spent a lot of time and effort in therapy to get rid of them and use only a cane.”

  “And the driving? I was about to suggest we sell Mother’s car, but I see there’s no reason to now.”

  “She’s accomplished a lot in the last few years,” Daphne commented. “But how about you help me herd this bunch inside so we can cut the cake and get this party started?”

  After so much time filled with worry, the party gave Jillian a chance to relax and celebrate not only Becca’s homecoming, but her achievements.

  “You’re awfully quiet over here in the corner,” Daphne said an hour later, lowering herself into the chair beside Jillian.

  “I’m still in shock. And ashamed. I mean, I’m thrilled to see my sister doing so well, but seeing her drive up and walk in so assuredly made me realize how out of touch I’ve become with my family. I let a difference of opinion….” Jillian covered her face with her hands.

  Daphne took Jillian’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Honey, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Your mother loved both of you girls, but she put a lot of pressure on you to succeed and not enough on Becca. And I have a little confession to make myself.”

  “Oh?”

  “I knew exactly what Becca was doing at camp. I knew it was more than just becoming more independent. It’s a breakaway camp to help young adults learn to live on their own. Lord knows, your mother had so much guilt about Becca even though the doctors told her the cerebral palsy wasn’t her fault. Becca wanted to do more, but as long as your mother was alive, she wouldn’t push too hard. When this opportunity to retire and move came along, I saw it as a chance to maybe accelerate things and put everything to right. I hope you’re not angry with me.”

  Angry? How could Jillian be angry with Daphne about the confident young woman she saw laughing and mingling with friends and neighbors? If anyone was going to be angry, it would be Daphne when she learned Jillian wanted to resign from her job at Eucalyptus.

  But tonight, she would paste a smile on her face, party with her sister and start the process of putting back together the relationship she had allowed to weaken.

  * * *<
br />
  Sam groaned as his new massage therapist worked his thumb into a spot between his spine and left shoulder blade. A trigger point, he’d called it. It hurt like hell, and he had another hour left of the morning session with Evan the Terrible. The afternoon, and final, session would be at the beach to give his shoulder and scarring one last workout before he left Barefoot Bay and headed back to reality. For all the grief he had given Jillian about sand, he had not argued with his new therapist. The arguments seemed childish now.

  His thoughts wandered to Jillian and the pool at his villa, but only until Evan bore down on another spot and instructed him to take a deep breath and hold it. Better that he didn’t think about the pool. He sure as hell didn’t want to sport wood now.

  Sam still couldn’t believe Jillian had turned him over to another therapist. He’d been dumped. Again. Wasn’t it insulting enough that the Army had let him go? Sure, he’d been a pain in the ass, but Jillian had put up with him for nine days. Couldn’t she have tolerated him for one more? He had taken delight in pushing all her buttons, but now guilt pinged in his gut over that last button he’d pushed. That last line he had crossed.

  “Let’s take a break, okay?” Evan’s voice broke into his pity party. “Drink some water, go outside and get some fresh air and I’ll see you back here in fifteen.”

  Sam slipped into his shorts and shirt, grabbed the bottle of water from the counter and headed toward the spa exit. Along the way, he glanced around, hoping to spot Jillian.

  “She isn’t here,” a green-eyed blonde at the reception desk called to him.

  “Who?” he asked, trying his best to appear confused.

  The woman skewered him with a look that proved he had failed. “She’s working at one of the beach cabanas now, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

  Sam put his index finger to his lips. “Not a word.”

  “But if you want to talk to her, you need to do it soon. Rumor has it she’s leaving the spa. And you didn’t—”

  “Understood,” he assured her.

  Leaving? She had expressed concern about their involvement, and while he hadn’t pursued her publicly, he had dogged her unmercifully in private. Laughed at her concerns even. As much as he wanted to inquire about the rumor, he didn’t want to do anything to fuel any fire that might be smoldering under the surface.

  I can’t help someone who won’t help himself.

  Her words came back to haunt him. He had let the wrong head make too many decisions lately. He wasn’t accustomed to losing, and that rankled. What hurt most was losing Jillian, not that he’d ever really had her. He had approached everything incorrectly. However, he knew what he should do and hoped it was the solution to the mess he had created in both their lives.

  Starting today, he would move heaven and earth to begin the clean-up process.

  * * *

  This would have been her last day with Sam had she not acted so foolishly and let her emotions run amok. She had a light morning schedule. She and Brenna had given a hot stone couples massage to a pair of newlyweds in one of the beach cabanas. When they had finished and cleaned up the cabana, Jillian signed out and drove to Mimosa Memories. For her own sanity, she had to keep her mind off Sam Hartman and the emotions he still stirred in her. Lunch with Becca and Aunt Daffy would do that if they were available.

  She had never fallen for a client before. Never even been tempted in eight years of practice. And in less than eight weeks on her new job she had let this man get under her skin and let herself get into his bed.

  The blue SUV sat in the store parking lot, yet another reminder of all the changes in Jillian’s life. She called out as she stepped through the back entrance and heard Becca call out, “Just a minute!”

  Observing from the rear of the shop, she watched as Becca interacted with a young couple and their two small children, helped an elderly woman decide on a shirt for her granddaughter and directed them all to Ms. Icey’s ice cream parlor on the outskirts of town. Her sister’s transformation was amazing. Or maybe it wasn’t so much a transformation as a matter of Jillian opening her eyes and really looking at Becca as an adult rather than her younger sister.

  After the customers left, Becca wound her way through the aisles to the back and hugged Jillian tightly. “If I haven’t said it already, thank you for the party last night. I can’t believe all the people who showed up. You must have worked for days on it.”

  “Aunt Daffy worked for days,” Jillian corrected. “I can’t take much credit. And if I haven’t said it already, I want to apologize for not keeping better tabs on you. I was stunned when you drove up last night. I guess in my mind you’re still the little girl I left behind when I moved to Arizona.”

  “I’m to blame, too. We all get so wrapped up in our own lives we sometimes forget others have a life as well. Plus there’s the big age difference between us. That’s nobody’s fault, but it does separate us to a certain degree.”

  “I hope the gap will close as we grow older,” Jillian said. “We should have more in common now.”

  Becca hesitated, then continued. “And Mom…well, she didn’t help. I know she meant well but she was Mimosa Key’s original helicopter mother. Aunt Daffy was my salvation so to speak. She taught me so much.”

  “Wacky as she can be, I don’t know what we’ll do when she retires and leaves and there’s no one to manage this store.”

  Becca gave her a puzzled look. “Jillian, what do you think she’s been teaching me?”

  Jillian shrugged. She had no idea what Becca was talking about.

  “I’m going to run the store. And I’m going to go on to finish my four-year degree. I have some great new ideas for the business, too. When we get the Barefoot Bay Bucks contract, and we will, our numbers will shoot up. The co-op section has exceeded our expectations. I think we should eliminate some of the more kitschy merchandise and expand the co-op to promote the ‘Buy Local’ theme. At last quarter’s merchants meeting, all the store owners agreed to start promoting each other. You heard me tell those folks about Icey’s, didn’t you?”

  Jillian stood, transfixed by her sister. The shy teen she had left behind was now a beautiful, confident and capable young woman. What would Becca think, though, when she learned of her sister’s decision to leave the spa?

  “Do you think maybe we could run the store together?” Jillian asked tentatively. “I could handle it while you’re in class.”

  “But what about the spa?” Becca asked.

  “I…I’m considering resigning.”

  “Why? It’s a great place to work from what I hear. Several of my friends from community college interned there and one got a permanent position. It’s modern and progressive and right up your alley. Why would you want to leave?”

  Jillian stared past her sister to a flamingo wind chime hanging in the front window, unable to maintain eye contact.

  “You weren’t fired, were you?”

  “No,” she said, dragging out the word. “But I’m afraid I could be.”

  “Why?” she asked again, sounding like an inquisitive toddler.

  “There’s a guy—”

  “The hunky solder,” Becca interrupted.

  Jillian blew out an exasperated breath. “How does everyone know about him?”

  “It’s a small island, remember? News travels fast.”

  It sure did, especially when the news source was Charity Grambling. Had she seen her and Sam in the back of the Super Min that day? Or heaven forbid, had someone found out about the morning she spent making love with Sam?

  “What exactly does everyone know?” Jillian might as well uncover the truth, ugly as it might be.

  “That he’s hot. That he was wounded in the Middle East. That someone paid for him to come to Barefoot Bay.” Becca paused and grinned. And did I mention he’s hot?”

  “That’s all?”

  Becca’s eyes grew wide. “You mean there’s more?”

  At Jillian’s blush, Becca grabbed her sister by
the hand and dragged her to a table in the back room. “Sit while I get us some lemonade. And then you’re going to spill it, sister. I can hear that age gap closing already.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sam cursed his stupidity and stubbornness under his breath as the ocean water lapped over him and Evan rubbed the salty liquid into his scarred flesh. This was actually soothing. His tension melted as the sun and water bathed him in its warmth. He had been an absolute ass and had refused Jillian at every turn. As good as he felt now, how much better would it have been with Jillian’s touch? How much better would life in general be with Jillian’s hands on him morning, noon and night?

  He had to see her again before he left Mimosa Key. An apology was necessary. He had to see if they could possibly have a future together because now he believed – in her and what he had callously called her voodoo. He also believed in her assessment of his emotional state.

  Sam had been afraid to admit he struggled with PTSD. Those four letters scared people. Hell, they scared him. But fears could be conquered. He desperately wanted to conquer this one.

  And he knew who he wanted to help him accomplish that.

  Until this point, he had viewed seeking help as a sign of weakness. Now he understood that the real weakness was ignoring his symptoms and denying the problem. Real strength would be demonstrated by asking for help. He wanted more than anything for Jillian to be part of the team that helped him recover. More importantly, he wanted Jillian to be part of his life forever. She already had captured his heart. Now he had to convince her he was ready to live up to the scarred tattoo on his back. He had to convince her he was ready to truly try.

  One problem stood in his way, though. Her life was here on Mimosa Key, and there was nothing for him, or her, back in his hometown in North Carolina.