by J. L. Berg
Molly wrapped her arms around my neck, riding my cock, as I kissed her so deeply, it nearly killed me.
Because I knew this would hurt in the morning.
Walking away.
Acting like it never happened.
This would hurt, and there was no running this time.
This time, I’d have to endure—at least for a little while.
But, for now, I’d enjoy every damn minute.
Every sigh. Every moan. Every drip of sweat.
And, when morning came, I’d tear out my heart and leave it beside her on my way to work because there wouldn’t be any use for it in the future.
She owned it anyway.
SEVERAL THINGS SEEMED TO HAPPEN all at once when I awoke that morning.
First, my eyes opened, and I saw the yellow of the walls.
Where was I?
Second, I moved, stretching slightly to get a better view of my surroundings. A blissful sort of pain hit me. It was the kind of soreness I felt after a run around the island, but as my brain hopped on board, I found myself smiling.
Running had never been that fun.
Third, I rolled over, reaching out for Jake, only to find an empty cold spot where he’d once been.
Fourth, my smile died, and the sunny color of the walls faded as cloud cover fell over the island.
Our night was over, and so were we.
Reality had crept back into our lives.
I found myself resting against the borrowed pillow in the borrowed guest room, feeling lost and alone.
I’d told Jake I was prepared for this. I’d said I was a grown woman who could handle all the pitfalls and implications of the two of us coming together like this. The truth was, I was still the same sad girl on that dock, crying over a boy who didn’t love her enough to stay.
Or, at least, part of me was.
I had known this was going to hurt. I had known it would burn deep down to my very soul, but to say no—to reject love, even for a fleeting moment—would have been a lie to everything we’d had.
And maybe I liked the idea of self-sabotage.
Hell, I’d done it over and over again. First, with Jake and then with Dean. I was on a roll.
Maybe I should just head on down to the bait shop and hit on that nice old man with the lollipops next.
I mentally rolled my eyes, and then the flashbacks from the night before began.
The look in his eyes when he’d come.
How confident he had been when I told him there was no possible way a woman could come that many times in one night.
He’d proven me wrong and then some.
How gently he’d held me after every time, like he was cherishing the short time we had as much as I was.
I bit my lip to keep the tears at bay as I rose from the bed, the smell of him following me. It was then that I noticed his things were missing from the room.
Only a thin yellow rose from the garden remained on the nightstand along with a check for the room.
Nothing could keep the tears in after that. And who was I to stop them? There, in the yellow room, I let myself cry. I let the loss of him hit me full force.
Both then and now.
Jake wasn’t a man you could let go of easily.
I’d done so once before.
So, I’d do it again.
But, for now, I let myself cry and mourn all that could have been…if we’d just believed.
Successfully sneaking out of the yellow room without being seen by guests, I made my way down to my own room on the first floor. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I was in the kitchen, working on my morning routine. Thankfully, I had this down to a science, and I’d done the bulk of the baking the night before, but I always liked to make something fresh.
There was nothing better than waking up to the smell of freshly baked pastries.
Well, maybe except for actually eating them.
I’d reheat the things I’d made the night before, but this helped create the ambiance of homeyness the inn was known for and a reputation and standard I intended on keeping.
Not to mention, all the busywork kept my mind off Jake and all the dirty things we’d done the night before.
“Well, there’s my sister, the whore.”
My eyes widened as my attention shifted away from the industrial mixer I’d been fixated on. Turning, I saw a wicked grin on my little sister’s perfect face as she waltzed into the kitchen, wearing her usual morning attire of a tiny tank top and shorts.
A fashion choice I’d chosen to borrow last night when I visited Jake’s room.
Worked like a charm, too.
Putting on a blank face, I replied, “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
“Oh, please,” she said, placing such emphasis on the second word that it sounded more like puh-lease. “The whole damn island could hear you two knocking boots last night, and don’t try to blame it on a guest. Romeo must have called your name about a thousand times.”
My heart raced. “I am not talking to you about this.”
“Well then, you should have been a little more discreet,” she declared, taking advantage of my morning pot of coffee.
I watched as she poured the largest cup I’d ever seen, drowning it in heavy cream and several spoonful of sugar.
“How is it possible that you’re skinnier than me?” I mumbled.
“I work out, like, twice a day at home. This is a vacation.” She shrugged. “Stop distracting me, and give me the deets. Are you two back together? Fuck buddies? What’s the deal?”
Snatching a cinnamon roll from the plate I’d just put out, she took a seat at the large rustic table, making it clear she wasn’t leaving until I spilled.
“It was just one night,” I clarified, trying not to imagine the horrified stares I’d no doubt be getting from my guests this morning.
My sister was right. I should have been more discreet, but I hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly.
Call it lust or pent-up need from far too long ago, I didn’t know, but I’d stormed into that yellow room with only one intention.
And I’d accomplished it in spades.
Now, I had to deal with the consequences, starting with my nosy sister.
“So, a booty call then? Nice,” she said, nodding her head, as she broke apart the roll into several bite-sized pieces. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“I don’t,” I said. “I can’t really explain it, but it needed to happen. Now that it has, we can both move on.”
A snort escaped her pixie-like mouth. “Oh, honey”—she laughed—“I really thought you were smarter than this.”
I stopped what I was doing and leaned against the countertop, giving her my full attention. “What do you mean? I thought you told me to let loose and have a little fun.”
She nodded, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. The whole process made her look dainty and sophisticated. When I did the same thing, it resembled something closer to an animal being hosed off.
“I did,” she explained. “But I meant with someone you had no strings or previous attachments with. Someone you could bang and then sneak out the next morning, not caring if you ever saw him again. Jake is not that person for you, Molly.”
I folded my arms across my chest in defiance. “We talked it over beforehand. It wasn’t spontaneous. I knew what I was getting into and what it did and did not mean. I’m fine, Millie, really.”
Her eyes met mine, and I could see them round ever-so slightly around the edges before she forfeited her fight.
“Fine,” she said. “You’re a grown woman, and you obviously know what you’re doing. Now, come help me pack.”
The tension broke between us, causing me to nearly topple back from the force of it. If there was anyone on the planet who could see right through my bullshit, it was my little sister.
“I’ve got to serve breakfast but afterward?”
“Sure. I’ll go for a run first. Don’t get too busy t
hough. I want some quality time with my big sister before I go.”
I shook my head. “You mean, you want me to pack your stuff before you go.”
“Well, sure, if you’re offering.” She shrugged, a sly grin stretched across her face.
“For a girl who travels for a living, it’s a wonder you don’t have this down to a science.”
“Maybe I do, and I’m just using this as an excuse,” she said before rising from the table.
I watched her saunter across the kitchen, cleaning off her plate and mug with a quick rinse before dropping them in the dishwasher. She hopped over in my direction and placed a sweet kiss on my cheek before running off toward the room adjacent to mine in the family wing.
Just as I saw the last wisp of her platinum-blonde hair disappear around the corner, I heard the first of the guest doors open.
Letting out a sigh, I muttered to myself, “Time for those consequences.”
Let the fun begin.
In the South, there were usually two ways a bad situation could go.
It could be ignored, and life would return to something close to normal with the added bonus of new gossip to talk about over iced tea on the porch. Or it could be attacked head-on, causing a scandal so great, you had no choice but to bury your head in the sand until it all blew over.
Knowing my guest had heard me in the throes of passion on multiple occasions had me hoping for option number one and a freaking miracle.
Thankfully, someone up there had heard my pleas, or maybe I’d somehow lucked out since I wasn’t quite sure how the whole prayers-for-help-when-you’d-had-super-loud-earth-shattering-sex thing went.
I somehow doubted that particular request was high on the priority list for the big guy upstairs.
I didn’t blame him.
Either way, I was breathing a sigh of relief by the end of breakfast and soon after when all three of my guests checked out, thanking me for a wonderful stay. I got a wink from one of the husbands, which I tried desperately hard to ignore.
But, all in all, I called it a win.
Wanting nothing more than to leave the pile of dishes in the sink and crawl back in bed, I, of course, did the exact opposite, forcing myself back into work mode for another hour. I scrubbed the kitchen, made snacks for my new arrivals that afternoon, and began the process of cleaning the upstairs.
I left the yellow room for last.
As I was hauling the remaining linens down to the first floor for washing, my sweaty sister made her reappearance through the front door.
“Man, it is a glorious day outside!” she declared. “Not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature is perfect.”
“You say that now. But come back in a month or two, and you’ll be wiping so much boob sweat, you could fill a pitcher.”
“That’s an image that will stick with you.” She laughed. “Besides, you forget where I live now. Florida is the land of year-round boob sweat.”
Her face was flushed, and her body was slick with sweat. On most people, the overall look would be less than ideal. For Millie, it was like she’d just walked onto a photo shoot for sportswear.
If she could ever settle down, she’d make some man out there incredibly happy.
“Meet me in Mom and Dad’s old room?” she asked, punching several buttons on her fancy watch.
“Sure. Let me just start these.”
“Okay, I’m going to hop in the shower. My suitcase will be waiting for you.” She smiled, heading off toward the family wing.
It didn’t take long to get the laundry started. The hard part was juggling all of it and navigating my way to the washer. I’d never understood why my parents had placed the laundry room all the way on the other side of the house, tucked away behind the kitchen, when it made perfect sense to place it near our personal bedrooms where no one could see it.
Maybe, one day, I’d ask them.
But, for now, I pressed a few buttons on the futuristic machine I’d had shipped in last year, replacing the ancient one my mom had been using since we were kids. This one was quiet and super efficient.
I’d done a small dance in the living room the day it arrived.
Probably something to keep to myself, I thought.
By the time I made it to the room my sister was occupying, I was dead tired. Scooting aside several of her designer clothes, I curled up with one of her pillows.
“Tired from all your lovemaking last night?” She snickered as the steam from the shower wafted in from the attached bathroom.
She pushed the door completely open, and I could smell her fruity shampoo—something she’d been using since high school. It was nice to know my super-sophisticated sister still clung to some of her roots even if it was just shampoo.
“Do you ever miss it here?” I asked, sitting up to lean against the headboard.
“Of course I do,” she said. “I’m not a robot. This is and will forever be my home, but right now, I need to stretch my legs and explore. We’re young only once, Mols. Don’t you ever want to travel? See other places, meet new people?”
“No,” I answered quickly.
Too quickly.
She gave me a hard stare as she took a seat next to me, still wrapped in a towel. Taking her time, she began the process of rubbing lotion over her legs and arms before responding, “There was once a girl I knew. Not nearly as spunky or pretty as her little sister, but wonderful just the same.”
I rolled my eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Or she chose not to.
“This little girl dreamed of faraway places, meeting exotic people, and eating everything under the sun.”
“That girl grew up,” I said. “She got a life.”
Turning her attention toward me, she set the lotion bottle down.
She didn’t have any makeup on, and I could see the scattering of freckles across her face. We’d once lain in bed, counting each other’s freckles, trying to see who had more. I’d won.
“You do,” she replied. “But is it the life you want, Molly?”
My face went blank. “You know I’ve always wanted the inn. It’s been my dream since we were little.”
A soft hand fell on my shoulder. “I know, but you’ve had other dreams, too. Don’t forget those.”
“It’s too late for those,” I said, looking away.
My gaze settled on an old photograph of my parents. I’d done little to this room since they moved out, choosing to stay in the smaller room I’d shared with Millie instead of moving.
Besides, the idea of it just never felt right.
This would always be their room.
It was still filled with their memories, things they’d left behind because of the small size of their new place. Or so they’d said. Maybe they just liked leaving a piece of themselves here.
Honestly, I didn’t mind.
“Did Mom and Dad ever tell you what they did before they had you?”
“No,” I replied. “But I guess I never asked.”
“Well, I did,” she said. “It was right around the time I was looking at colleges. I hadn’t told them I was considering something out of state, and I was terrified to tell them. So, I casually asked what they’d done before settling down. I admit, I’d never asked either. I’d just always assumed they’d gotten married, and they’d literally become a family the very next day because parents didn’t have sex, right? Immaculate conception.”
“Right,” I agreed, laughing.
“But, as it turned out, a baby didn’t fall from the sky the day after their wedding, like I’d imagined, and it was actually several years before you arrived.”
“Were they in college?”
“No—well, I mean, I think they did that before. I don’t know. I didn’t get the entire biography. But I did find out that our parents were quite the adventurers. Rather than buy a house and unpack all those small appliances and china settings they’d received from their wedding, they sold it all to a pawn shop and hit the road.”
&n
bsp; “What?” I said, nearly choking on my own spit from the shock.
“I know, right? But it’s totally true. They traveled all over the United States, working in small kitchens, learning the trade, and they even made it all the way to Europe. They stayed in cheap motels and saved what they could. Our parents were nomads!”
“Wow, I always thought Mom had just learned everything from Grammy and Pop Pop like I did.”
“I’m sure she did, but they wanted to make their own mark, as much as you do. Don’t you see it? You’ve got to do the same. You need your nomadic time. I’m having mine. Mom and Dad had theirs. Now, it’s your chance.”
The whole idea sounded thrilling. Going where the wind took me, perfecting my skills as a baker, maybe even making it to France like I’d once hoped.
But it was nothing more than the dream of a girl, and as I’d reminded myself the night before, I was not that girl anymore.
“I can’t,” I said solemnly. “And, more than that, I don’t want to. You and Mom and Dad might have felt the need to get away, but I’m perfectly happy where I am. I know what I’m doing here.”
A sad look crossed her face as I rose from the bed and headed for the door.
“Then, I wish you all the best, Molly. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
That same photo I’d been staring at caught my eye once more. My parents’ faces were smiling back at me, their clothes dated and bleached of color from years of exposure. They were wrapped around each other, so young.
So carefree.
I wondered briefly where this photo had been taken. Colorado? California? Maybe even Rome?
My chest tightened.
“I have everything I need right here, in this house,” I said before fleeing.
A half an hour later, she left, a half-hearted hug and a promise to return for Christmas.
I took a deep breath and thanked God for the bond of sisterhood because, even though we were both upset with each other, we’d never let it get in the way of what truly mattered.
Because sisters were for life.
Life returned to something close to normal the days following my sister’s departure. New guests arrived and departed while I did my best to avoid thinking about that memorable night with Jake.