In Shelter Cove (Angel's Bay)

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In Shelter Cove (Angel's Bay) Page 17

by Barbara Freethy


  “In the daytime, you can see the ocean and the ships coming in and out of the harbor,” she said. “At night, this place is great for stargazing.”

  As Joe moved next to her, her breath caught in her chest. She’d forgotten about the cozy, intimate nature of the tower.

  “Did you come up here with Andrew?” he asked.

  “You’re very curious about what Andrew and I did together. Should I start asking you about your old girlfriends?”

  “There aren’t any. I began dating Rachel when I was fifteen. We had a couple of brief breakups during college, but I never went out with anyone else on a long-term basis.”

  She was surprised that he hadn’t had more relationships, but his words also reminded her that Rachel had always been the one for him and probably always would be.

  “What about you, Charlotte? Any other guys besides Andrew?”

  “Dozens,” she said lightly.

  “I’m talking serious boyfriends.”

  “I don’t do serious.” Even in the shadows, she could see his curious look and regretted her impulsive choice of words. “I’ve been busy with college, medical school, internship, residency, then moving back here. When would I have had the time?”

  “I don’t think it’s just about time. What happened to make you not want to do serious? Broken heart?”

  “Oh, please, everyone’s heart breaks in high school. Some on a weekly basis.”

  “I told you one of my secrets,” he reminded her. “You still owe me. Tell me why you left Angel’s Bay.”

  “I wanted to be a doctor.”

  “Always?”

  She sighed at his persistence. No wonder everyone in town thought he was a good interrogator. “Well, not always,” she conceded.

  “Why medicine?”

  No one had ever asked her why she’d become a doctor. And in the quiet of the dark night, she found herself wanting to tell him. “I had a miscarriage a long time ago. I didn’t get medical care when I should have, and the baby died. I wanted to find a way to make up for it, to save someone else’s child. Since I was good at science, I went into medicine.”

  “I’m sorry, Charlotte.”

  His quiet words brought an unexpected tear to her eyes.

  “You don’t have to be. I’m fine.”

  Joe held out his arms, and after a moment, she moved into his embrace. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. When she’d lost her baby, she’d desperately wanted someone to comfort her, but she’d had to go through it alone. Her mother had made sure of that.

  She reluctantly pulled away, knowing that she couldn’t use the old tragedy to create more trouble. “Thanks, Joe.”

  He tilted his head, gazing down at her. “Does Andrew know?”

  “I never said he was the father.”

  “You haven’t said he wasn’t.”

  “The only person who knew I was pregnant was my mother, and, believe me, she didn’t tell anyone. I was a disgrace. I had shamed the family.”

  “She didn’t tell your father?”

  “Oh, no. She thought my mistake would reflect poorly on her.”

  “What would she have done if you hadn’t miscarried?”

  “She was planning to send me away, to create some fake trip to the other end of the country. I probably would have gone, too, because I was confused and scared, and she was very formidable.”

  “Now I understand why there’s so much anger between you. If one of my sisters had gotten pregnant in high school, my mother would have been there rocking her in her arms. She wouldn’t have considered sending her away. ”

  Charlotte fought back tears at the image. “Your mom sounds very kind. Now I know where you get it from. We should go, Joe. It’s getting late.” And she was starting to like him way too much.

  “All right. But just so you know, Charlotte, your secret is safe with me.”

  She smiled softly. “I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t know that.”

  TWELVE

  “Won’t Jason be mad if I don’t go kite flying with him?” Lucas asked worriedly as they waited in the living room for Rick to arrive late Saturday morning.

  “I’m sure he won’t be,” Brianna replied, sitting next to him on the couch. Rick had called the night before to set up the kite-flying expedition. He’d made it clear that kite flying was a family tradition he wanted to share with his grandson, and she’d agreed, hoping to smooth the waters.

  “But Jason is going to come and see me fly in the contest tomorrow, isn’t he?” Lucas persisted

  “I’m not sure,” she said.

  Lucas’s face fell. “He doesn’t like me anymore, does he?”

  She was shocked by the question. “Of course he does. Why would you say that?”

  “Daddy got mad at me and didn’t want me to see him. I heard you telling Grandma on the phone.”

  “No, no, honey,” she said, pulling him onto her lap. “Your daddy loved you very much. He didn’t want you to visit him because he wanted you to have more time to play with your friends. He wasn’t mad at all.” She kissed away the tears on his cheeks. “Your father adored you. Don’t ever think that he didn’t.”

  “How come he couldn’t live with us?”

  “He just couldn’t,” she said, knowing he was too young to understand.

  “What if you do something wrong, and they make you go live in the big ugly house?”

  She wished she could erase the fear from his eyes—with time, she hoped he’d stop worrying that she might leave him, too. “That won’t ever happen. We are always going to be together. There’s no splitting us up.”

  Lucas smiled. “I love you, Mommy.”

  “I love you, too.” The doorbell rang. “There’s Grandpa. Go get your jacket,” she said as she got up.

  Rick had on jeans and a windbreaker, and excitement lit his brown eyes. “Is my boy ready to go?”

  “Yes, he is,” she said as Lucas struggled into his jacket. “He’s really excited about this.”

  “Me, too. It’s been a while since I flew a kite.”

  She turned to Lucas. “Be good for Grandpa, okay? Stay with him, and listen to whatever he says.”

  “I will, Mommy. I promise.”

  “He’s always good with me,” Rick told her.

  “I’m glad. Thanks for taking him out. He loves spending time with you.”

  Rick gave a small nod, his lips tightening with emotion. “We love him, too. We thank God every day we have him in our lives.” He paused. “Nancy was sorry she missed you yesterday. But we’ll see you tonight at the picnic in the park, right?”

  “You bet.” Brianna walked them out to the porch, watching as they got into Rick’s car and drove down the street. Jason’s Jeep was in the next driveway. She hadn’t seen him since the night Nancy had interrupted their dinner.

  And she wasn’t going to see him now, she told herself firmly as she headed back inside.

  She shut the door and turned the dead bolt for good measure. She needed to concentrate on unpacking, to think about Derek. But it was Jason’s image that had been playing in her mind lately, and she couldn’t seem to get it out.

  The doorbell rang again, and her heart leaped. She knew it was him even before she opened the door.

  Jason wore faded blue jeans and a T-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders. His brown hair was curling and damp, either from the ocean surf or from a recent shower. His face was cleanly shaven, his mouth so . . . so sexy. She really needed to see him in his cop’s uniform again. She wanted that ruthless, unyielding guy in her head, not this one.

  Clearing her throat, she realized he was checking her out, too. She was casually dressed in jeans and a knit top. She hadn’t done much with her hair or makeup, thinking she’d be spending most of the day unpacking the last few boxes in the garage. Now she wished she’d thrown on a little lip gloss.

  The silence lengthened between them, crackling with tension. She wanted to invite him in but was
afraid to do so. There was something burning in his eyes, something that looked like anger . . . or was it hunger? A shiver ran down her spine.

  “Nancy came up to me at the cook-off last night,” he said, breaking the silence. “She told me to stay the hell away from you.”

  Rick had said nothing about a confrontation between them. “So why are you here?” she asked warily.

  “Because I can’t stay away from you.” He stepped into her living room, kicked the door shut behind him, and hauled her into his arms.

  His mouth on hers was hard and demanding, forcing her lips open so he could sweep the inside of her mouth with his tongue. He groaned with pleasure, sending the spark between them into a raging flame. Any thought she had of pushing him away went up in smoke. It was crazy, it was reckless, it was probably wrong, but God, it felt right. She didn’t want to fight him, didn’t want to fight herself. She leaned into his kiss, sliding her hand under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin warm her from the outside in. She’d been cold for so long, and Jason was deliciously hot.

  He lifted his head, his eyes dark and filled with promise. “I want you.”

  “Then have me,” she said, giving in to the inevitable.

  They stumbled into the bedroom, stopping every now and then to shed an article of clothing. Jason’s body was beautiful, tan from the sun, his muscles honed, his arms and hands strong and rough and passionate for her. She hadn’t felt so desired in a long time.

  He backed her up against the edge of the bed, then reached around behind her and unhooked her bra straps, peeling away the lacy cups. She felt vulnerable under his eyes yet so very feminine. He kissed her lips, then his mouth slid down to her collarbone, the valley between her breasts, his tongue finally swirling around her nipples, sending liquid fire to her core.

  When his hands pulled her hips to his, she could feel his erection through his boxers. They tumbled onto the bed together. He stripped off her thong. She pushed his shorts down to his knees, and he kicked them off.

  He cupped the back of her head with one hand as she fell against the pillows. His other hand slid between her thighs, touching, teasing, slipping inside her. She moved her legs restlessly, wanting more than his wicked fingers. But Jason was tormenting her with his mouth and his hands, creating a deep, driving need for release.

  “It’s not enough.” She gasped. “I want all of you.”

  That was all the encouragement he needed. He straddled her body, parted her thighs, and slid inside, filling the emptiness in her soul, chasing every thought out of her head, making her feel as if she was a part of him and he was a part of her and she’d never be alone again. It was exhilarating and terrifying, and she never wanted it to end.

  * * *

  Jason’s heart took a long time to slow down. He didn’t want to slide out of Brianna, didn’t want to break the connection between them. He’d never felt so completely in sync with a woman—not just physically but emotionally.

  Shit! What the hell was he thinking? He sounded like a woman.

  He rolled over onto his back, taking long, deep breaths, then pulled Brianna into his arms. She laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arm around his waist. He closed his eyes, enjoying her sweet scent, the brush of her hair against his chest. Making love to her had been more than he’d ever imagined. There was so much passion between them, so much heat. She’d wanted him as badly as he’d wanted her.

  Or maybe she was just lonely . . .

  The thought drove the smile from his lips.

  Maybe she was just trying to find a way to stop feeling so numb . . .

  Tension crept into his limbs, and his eyes flew open. Maybe this wasn’t the beginning of something but just the surrender to a reckless impulse, a basic physical need . . .

  Brianna sat up, her eyes unsure as she pulled the sheet up over her breasts.

  “A little late,” he drawled. “I’ve already seen everything.”

  She stared at him for a minute. He wanted her to say something, but not just anything—the right thing.

  Suddenly, she was off the bed, retrieving her clothes, slipping them back on as fast as she’d taken them off. Then she was tossing his clothes at him, his boxers, his jeans, his shirt. He was too stunned to move. He’d jumped out of a few beds before, but never this fast. And he couldn’t remember when a woman had beaten him off the mattress.

  “Whoa, what’s the hurry?” he asked.

  “You have to get dressed. Lucas could come back anytime.”

  “You’re not worried about Lucas. What’s wrong?”

  “You can’t stay. We can’t do that again,” she said in a rush, running a hand through the tangled waves of her hair.

  “We could definitely do that again. It was great.”

  “Jason, you need to go.”

  “That’s not what I need—or you, either. Slow down, Brianna, and talk to me.”

  She left the room. He got up and slowly put his clothes on, buying some time. She intended to throw him out and never let him back in again, and it wasn’t going to end like that between them.

  When he entered the living room, she was waiting by the door, her arms wrapped around her waist, fear in her eyes.

  “What are you afraid of ?” he asked

  “You know what I’m afraid of—you and me, we can’t be together.”

  “We were fantastic together.”

  “It was just sex, Jason. I needed to be with a man, and you were willing. That’s all.”

  He didn’t want to believe there was a speck of truth in what she’d said, but his own doubts were beginning to take hold. She’d told him that she was tired, that she was lonely, that she was cold, and he’d wanted to make all that go away. But she’d never said she cared about him. Maybe it had just been about scratching an itch. Her husband had been in jail a long time. She was a single mother. How much action could she have had?

  His heart hardened. He had put himself on the line with her. He’d told her that he had wanted her from the first minute he’d seen her, and he’d never said that to anyone before. He’d watched his father make a fool of himself over women more times than he could count and wasn’t about to follow in his footsteps.

  “Who said it was anything more than sex?” he challenged.

  “Then I guess we’re good,” she retorted.

  He put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to his, crushing her lips in a kiss neither of them would forget for a while. “We are good. And one of these days, you’re not going to tell me to go. You’re going to beg me stay.”

  As if that would happen. Brianna slammed the door behind him, but her tingling lips called her a liar. It had taken all of her willpower to throw him out while her body was begging for more.

  What on earth had she done? As she raised her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, the light caught her diamond ring.

  She drew in a long, slow breath. It felt like a lifetime since Derek had put that ring on her finger. She walked into the bedroom, slipped it off, and set it inside her jewelry box. Immediately tempted to snatch it back, she resisted the urge. She wasn’t married anymore.

  She wasn’t married anymore.

  The idea shocked her, made her so dizzy that she had to sit down on the bed. The tangled sheets still felt warm, and the scent of Jason’s aftershave lingered in the air. It had been a long time since a man had shared her bed. Five years, if she didn’t count the few conjugal visits.

  The passion between her and Jason had gone way beyond the physical. She’d felt connected to him in a way she hadn’t expected. There hadn’t been any awkwardness between them while they were making love. Afterward was a different story, and that was mainly her fault. She’d totally freaked. The wonderful thrill she’d felt had scared the hell out of her, because she wanted to do it again and again and again. And how could she?

  Guilt had followed terror. She couldn’t want Jason in her bed, in her house, in her life. The Kanes hated him. He was their enemy; he was supp
osed to be hers. But wasn’t it time to stop worrying about what everyone else thought and focus on what she wanted for herself and her son?

  But was Jason truly what she wanted?

  “You know you want to, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte eyed the rope in Andrew’s hands with misgiving. She had no intention of participating in the three-legged race; she’d only come to the festival to drop off her mother’s baked goods for the cakewalk. “No way.”

  “I need a partner.” Andrew gave her the same smile that used to make her want to say yes to anything he suggested.

  “Find someone else. I’m not good at that game.”

  “All you have to do is hold on to me.” Andrew leaned forward, his blue eyes begging. “Please, Charlotte, take pity on me. If it’s not you, it’s going to be Margaret Wells, and she might kill me.”

  Margaret Wells was a very tall, very large woman in her early forties, who probably had a good thirty pounds on Andrew. She’d just divorced her second husband and was looking for number three.

  “Where’s your generosity of spirit?” she asked. “You know she likes you.”

  “She’s at least twelve years older than me.”

  “You know what they say about experienced women.”

  “It’s not a race down the aisle, Charlotte, just across the grass,” he teased. “What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “Sure you are. You’re scared of being in a relationship.”

  “Just because I don’t want one with you doesn’t mean I’m scared of relationships.”

  “When was your last one?”

  She shrugged. “Last year.”

  “What was his name?” he asked skeptically. “What did he look like? What did he do for a living?”

  She grabbed the rope out of his hand. “Fine, I’ll do the race with you, if only to shut you up.” She marched over to the starting line, where the other contestants were tying their legs together. The park was packed with festival goers and picnickers, but this stretch of grass in front of the gazebo had been cleared for the games. The mayor stood on the steps of the gazebo with a megaphone in his hand, prepared to start the race. Andrew knelt down to tie their legs together.

 

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