Summer Reads Box Set: Volume 1

by Freethy, Barbara

"I just hope she's not taking any."

  "She looked fine, Kate."

  "Some scars aren't visible."

  He sent her a curious look. "What does that mean?"

  She couldn't begin to tell him. "Nothing. It doesn't mean anything. I'm glad she's fine, and I'll tell her I'm sorry for sticking my nose in her business when I see her later."

  "Good, then let's go."

  She wavered. She'd spent most of the night tossing and turning in her bed, reviewing all the reasons why she needed to keep her distance from Tyler. Those reasons had nothing to do with his job as a reporter and everything to do with who he was as a man and the way he made her feel.

  "You think too much, Kate," he murmured. "It's just a bowl of clam chowder I'm offering you."

  "Is that all it is?” She gave a helpless shake of her head. "When you're around, I have trouble remembering my own name," she confessed.

  "Kate McKenna," he offered, his expression a bit grim, his voice a little harsh as he said her name.

  She frowned. "Why do you suddenly sound angry?”

  He stared back at her. "Sorry. Are you coming, Kate?"

  Making a quick decision, she reached into a drawer and pulled out her purse. "Let's go.” She turned off the lights, changed the sign to Closed and locked the door behind them. That's when the wind almost knocked her off her feet. "Where did that come from?" she asked with a shiver.

  "The weather turned about an hour ago. You hadn't noticed?"

  "I've been inside."

  "I'll keep you warm," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders.

  That's exactly what she was afraid of.

  * * *

  "Hold on tight," Sean yelled as the wind caught his words and threw them back at her. "This hill will be one hell of a ride.”

  "It's too steep," Ashley protested, tightening her arms around Sean's waist as he stopped at the top of Sorenson's Hill. So far he'd driven his motorcycle with caution, taking care not to alarm her. Apparently, that was about to change.

  "I won't let anything happen to you, Ash," he said. "You can trust me."

  She wanted to believe him. She wanted to let it all go, the worries, the fears. She wanted to be that girl again who could soar down a hill with her hair flying out behind her. But he was asking too much of her. Wasn't it enough that they'd spent the last two days together, that they'd explored some of their favorite haunts and gorged themselves on fish and chips? Wasn't it enough that she'd actually agreed to get on the motorcycle with him today? Did she really have to agree to this, too?

  He flipped up the visor on his helmet as he glanced back at her. "Remember what you used to say to me?" he asked her, his eyes warm with understanding. "When we used to ride our bikes down this hill?"

  She shook her head.

  "Just take your foot off the brake. That's all you have to do."

  When she was a kid, she'd lived for speed, but no more. "I really wish I had a brake right now. I'd stop you from doing this."

  "I won't do it, if you really don't want me to. But I think there's a part of you that wants a fast ride. Come on, Ash."

  "All right. Do it before I change my mind," she said, squeezing her eyes shut.

  She heard him laugh, then he revved up the motor, and they were off.

  She hugged herself to Sean's body, tightening her legs around the bike, praying they wouldn't lose their balance or hit a big bump. But there was no more time to think. The speed, the wind, the motion of the bike were all terrifying and exhilarating. She felt like she was flying, sailing, racing into the wind on a glorious day.

  Within a minute they reached the bottom of the hill, back on even ground, the bike slowing faster than her heart. She opened her eyes to see that the world was still upright. The sun was still shining. Life was good. And she felt better than she had in a long time.

  Sean stopped the bike on the side of the deserted road. He got off, threw his helmet onto the ground, and said, "Wasn't that fantastic?"

  She took off her helmet with shaky fingers. She wasn't sure she could actually get off the bike. Her legs were shaking. Sean must have read her mind, because he helped her off the bike, put his arms around her, and spun her around in a dizzying hug.

  When he finally put her feet back down on the ground, his grin went from ear to ear. She couldn't help but smile back. His joy was contagious.

  "Tell me you loved it as much as I did. Tell me."

  "I liked it."

  "You loved it."

  "I was scared out of my mind at first, but then it was like before, better than before. I felt like myself again," she confessed. "I didn't know it was possible to have courage again. It's been so long." Her eyes filled with tears. "You gave it back to me, Sean. I don't know how you did it, but—"

  He cut off her words with a kiss, a demanding, hard kiss that was as impatient and reckless as he was—and just the way she wanted to be.

  * * *

  He was in the mood to do something outrageous, Tyler thought. Two hours of clam chowder tasting, chatting with Kate's friends, and listening to local bands had done nothing to quiet the reckless feeling in his gut. He wondered if Kate felt the same way. She'd glance at him, then look away without saying a word. She'd barely touched her food, which was unusual, because in his experience she was not shy about eating. And then there was the way her fingers tapped nervously, or was it impatiently, on the red-checkered tablecloth. He wanted to put his hand over those fingers and pull them to his lips in a silly, old-fashioned kiss.

  Maybe it was the small-town party atmosphere that made him feel like a stranger in his own body. Or maybe it was the magic of a summer night. He wasn't a romantic, but he suddenly wanted to tell Kate how beautiful she looked in the deepening twilight, how the music made him want to take her in his arms in a long, slow dance. He drew in a deep breath and let it out, wondering how he could feel so hot when the evening air was decidedly chilly.

  "You haven't said a word in a long time," Kate remarked.

  "Neither have you."

  "Do you want to go back to your hotel?"

  "Only if you're going with me."

  She quickly looked away. "That's not what I meant. I thought you might be bored. This can't be very exciting for a big-city reporter."

  "It's so exciting my heart is beating double-time." He grabbed her restless hand and pressed it against his chest. "Feel that."

  "You're definitely still alive," she said somewhat breathlessly as she tried to pull her hand away. "Let me go. People will look. They'll talk."

  "And what will they see? What will they say?"

  She thought about his questions for a moment, and when she gazed back at him, her expression was somber. "They'll see the local bookstore owner losing her head over a sexy stranger."

  "Would that be so bad?"

  She ignored his question, getting to her feet. "Do you want to see one of my favorite places on the island?”

  "Absolutely. Is it your bedroom?”

  She smiled. "No, but nice try. Let's walk back to the store and pick up my car."

  "Are you going to tell me where we're going?" he asked, following her down the street.

  "What would be the fun in that?" she countered.

  * * *

  After picking up Kate's car, they drove to the other side of the island, to an isolated building out on the bluffs. And it wasn't just any building, but a castle with a drawbridge, towers and turrets.

  "What the hell is that?" Tyler asked.

  "The Castleton Castle, also known as Frank's Folly. Frank Castleton was one of the original settlers on the island. He built the castle on a whim. At one time he envisioned an entire island filled with castles." Kate gave him a smile. "Fortunately, no one else shared his vision. It's not just a castle; it's also a lighthouse. Do you want to go inside?"

  "Sure."

  "No one lives here anymore," she said as they got out of the car. "Frank was the only one who actually spent time in the castle. Apparently he'd hoped for
a Cinderella to share it with, but as the legend goes, he was more of a toad than a prince."

  Tyler followed her across the drawbridge that lay over a dry gully, which he surmised was supposed to be a moat. The huge wooden door opened to Kate's gentle push. It was dark and dusty inside.

  "There's a kitchen down here, a small dining area, and a bedroom. But the best room is upstairs." Kate took his hand and led him up a staircase that opened onto one very large, round room. The walls were glass, and the only furniture was a wooden bench window seat that encircled the room. The rising moon sent shafts of light through the windows, creating an atmosphere of dark, romantic intimacy.

  "What do you think? Doesn't it feel magical?" Kate asked, doing an impulsive little twirl that reminded him of Amelia.

  He chased that thought right out of his mind. The last person he wanted to think about right now was Amelia. At least he was doing one thing Mark had asked him to do; he was sticking close to Kate.

  "It does," he agreed, but he had a feeling the magic had more to do with Kate than with the room.

  She walked over to the windows. "The Sound is there. You'll be able to see the water when the light goes on."

  "There's a light?"

  "It's automatic. It comes on around nine o'clock in the summer. But I prefer it like this, the moon dancing around the room, lighting up the shadows."

  There was something about her words that gave him pause, and then it clicked. "The Moon Dancer. This is where the name came from, isn't it?"

  Kate nodded. "Yes. This was my mom's favorite place. We always came at twilight, just as the moon was coming up. She'd tell us stories about the island. She was born here and knew all the history. Sometimes we'd bring a picnic. There are a lot of memories here," she said with a wistful sigh.

  "Of both your parents, or just your mother?"

  "Just my mom. My dad never came with us. For him, the magic was always out on the water."

  "Am I trespassing on sacred female ground, then?"

  "I think it will be all right. I sense that despite your outwardly cynical appearance, there is a bit of the dreamer in you."

  "I'm about reality, not dreams."

  "That's not true. Any man who roams the world in search of stories has to be a dreamer at heart, just like any man who sails across the ocean. You like a big canvas to paint on; so does my father.”

  "What about you, Kate?" he asked, searching her eyes. "Wasn't there a part of you that enjoyed that trip around the world?"

  "Oh, yes, there definitely was," she said, surprising him with her answer. "But it wasn't so much about battling the water that thrilled me; it was that first glimpse of land off in the distance. Was it a mirage born of boredom and loneliness? Was it a deserted island? Would there be people living on that island, lost to the world? Would we be their rescuers? I used to make up stories along the way." She smiled at him. "We never did find anyone on a deserted island, but every time we saw land, I thought it could happen. And when we'd sail into some foreign port, I'd stand on the deck of the Moon Dancer and soak it all in. I loved hearing the different languages, seeing faces of people I'd never seen before and never would again. I remember this little girl on the docks in South Africa. She was begging for food. I'd never seen such poverty in my life. I gave her my sunglasses, and her face lit up like a miracle had just occurred. That's what I miss, Tyler. Those little miracles that you don't expect."

  "And yet you're happy to stay here on this island, reading about other people's adventures?"

  "Yes, I am. I'm not saying that someday I won't travel again. But for now what means the most to me is predictability, security. Maybe it's just part of getting older. I don't want to be a gypsy. I want to be a part of something that takes root and grows. What I did on the Moon Dancer was enough for me. But I bet you can't say the same. You're still a wanderer. You're still in search of something."

  "Possibly," he admitted. "But I'm not sure what it is."

  "You'll know when you find it," she said, meeting his gaze.

  "Yes," he agreed.

  "Are you ready to go?”

  "No. I have another idea." He extended his hand to her. "Would you dance with me?"

  "There's no music."

  "For dreamers like us, that won't be a problem, will it?"

  Kate hesitated, then put her hand into his. "I have a hard time letting someone else lead.”

  He pulled her up against his chest and gazed into her eyes. "Then just take me wherever you want to go."

  She cleared her throat, a slight blush washing across her cheeks. "I don't think I can—I need a beat.”

  "How about if I sing?"

  "You can sing?"

  "Don't sound so surprised. I'm a man of many talents."

  "What do you sing?"

  "Frank Sinatra mostly. My dad was a huge fan. Played Frank's songs over and over again." He began to hum a tune, because he couldn't remember the words. But, then again, it was difficult to remember anything with Kate in his arms. Picking up the pace, he moved her rapidly around the room until they were both laughing.

  "Oh, my God!" she said breathlessly. "I feel like I should be wearing a chiffon dress with a big skirt that swings around my legs when I spin."

  "You should," he said, twirling her again.

  She looked at him with sparkling eyes. "This reminds me of one of my favorite movies. There's a scene in The King and I where Anna teaches the king how to do a polka. And they go flying around the room, spinning and spinning and spinning."

  "Like this?" Tyler asked. He spun her around until they were both too dizzy to do anything but collapse onto the window seat.

  Kate held up her hands. "Time out. I need a breather."

  "Hey, I'm just getting started."

  "You're not a bad dancer," she admitted.

  "I still have a few moves I haven't shown you yet." He gave her an exaggerated wink, and she laughed.

  "You are terrible. A natural-born flirt." She paused, her expression turning serious. "I can't remember when I've had so much fun."

  "Neither can I. It's been awhile, that's for sure."

  A charged silence fell between them, the coziness of the room and the darkness of the night drawing a blanket of intimacy around them.

  "If we wait a few minutes, we'll have a spotlight to dance under," Kate said somewhat nervously. "When the light comes on, this room will be as bright as day."

  "I kind of like the moon shadows." The moonlight had turned her from pretty into beautiful, from an ordinary woman into an angel. He wanted to take her in his arms and make love to her. "Kate," he murmured.

  "Tyler," she echoed, as she stroked his cheek with her fingers.

  His breath caught at the tender, womanly caress.

  "You must have to shave every day," she murmured as her fingers brushed against his jaw. She paused. "I want to kiss you again." She surprised him with her boldness.

  "What's stopping you?" he asked, but in her eyes he saw the conflict of duty versus desire.

  "Who you are. What you want with me and my family."

  "I thought we'd moved past that." He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm. He looked up and saw the spark of desire in her eyes. It was all the encouragement he needed. Leaning forward, he kissed her on the mouth, slowly, deeply. He didn't want to rush, wanted to take the time to savor the taste of her mouth.

  But Kate seemed impatient with the slower approach. She slipped her hands under his shirt, her fingers glancing off his abdomen, running through the hair on his chest. His muscles tightened at every touch.

  "Yes," he muttered with encouragement.

  "You feel so good, Tyler."

  "Say my name again," he ordered.

  "Tyler, Tyler, Tyler," she said against his mouth, punctuating each word with a kiss. "Maddening, annoying, frustrating Tyler."

  "Don't get carried away, now."

  "I want to get carried away," she said with a longing that removed the last of his doubts.

&n
bsp; He moved his hands under her sweater. Her skin grew warmer the higher he traveled, until he met up with a lacy bra that thankfully had a clasp in the front. He didn't realize how much he wanted that bra undone until his fingers fumbled with the clasp once, twice, before opening. He cupped her breast with his hand, the softness of her skin sending him over the edge.

  He caressed her fullness, brushing his thumb over the taut peak. She was as excited as he was. It wasn't enough to touch her like this. He wanted more, much more. While his hands explored her breasts, his mouth moved from her lips across her cheek and down the side of her neck. God, she was sweet. Sweet and sexy and willing.

  Kate tugged at his shirt. "We need to get rid of this."

  "My pleasure." He pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. He liked the way she looked at him, wanting him with her eyes, but she hadn't touched him again, and he wanted that more than anything. "Kate," he said, willing her to come the rest of the way.

  She didn't move for probably the longest minute of his life. Then she slowly lifted the sweater over her head and slipped off her bra. Her hands came up to cover herself, a shyness that he liked but didn't want now.

  "Don't." He put his hand on hers. "Let me look at you."

  Her hands slowly moved back to her side. "You are one beautiful woman," he murmured.

  She stared back at him without moving. "Touch me, Tyler. Put your hands on my breasts, the way you did before. I want to make love to you."

  Her words drove a wave of guilt through him. There was trust in her sweet blue eyes. And he didn't deserve that trust.

  "Tyler, what are you waiting for?" she asked, her gaze narrowing.

  Before he could answer, a shockingly bright light hit the room like a spotlight on center stage. Kate gasped and covered her breasts.

  "Oh, my God. I forgot about the light," she said. "It's so bright!"

  Shockingly illuminating, Tyler realized, and it had probably just stopped them from making a huge mistake. Tyler handed her the bra and sweater from the bench. "Do you want to put these on?"

  She hesitated and then nodded. "I should, shouldn't I?” She put on her bra and pulled her sweater over her head with swift, jerky movements. "I don't know what came over me. I don't usually do stuff like this."