“What’s this?” I nodded toward the speaker.
“You don’t know this song?” He looked shocked.
I shook my head. The words were haunting and perfectly placed. It was an acoustic number, and the man’s voice was smooth and raspy on all the right notes.
“How about Quinn Jansen? Do you know her?”
I laughed. “She’s only my favorite singer and songwriter. I love her.” Ever since I had seen the indie artist’s first video on YouTube, I was hooked. After it went viral, she was on every show. Every top list.
He smiled. “Well, she wrote this.”
“What? But it’s a guy song.” I wondered if he was teasing, but he looked too serious.
Jake stretched on the couch. I admired his athletic body. A quick flashback of his dripping wet chest reminded me how sculpted he was under that shirt.
“Quinn can write. I’d listen to just about anything of hers.”
The next song was a Quinn Jansen hit.
He smiled. “Speak of the devil.”
I giggled. “Yep. I do know this is her song.”
I sat on the end of the couch, keeping a pillow’s distance between us. It was hard to ignore how the closeness of the camper brought us into each other’s space. It was immediately more intimate.
All day I felt as if we had been gradually moving closer to this moment. Thrills of recklessness tingled under my skin. What did I really know about this guy?
He pointed over my head. “Hey, would you mind cutting off the light over the table? Not only is Alice loud, she’s nosey.”
“Sure.”
I reached behind me. I meant to flip the light closest to the table, but instead, I swiped all three, throwing the entire camper into darkness.
“Oh crap. Sorry. Sorry.” I fumbled with the wall, but couldn’t find the switch to save my life.
“Hey.” The tone of his voice was low and commanding. “Leave it.”
The way he sounded in the dark made me shiver and smile at the same time. God he was sexy.
He was moving closer. The attempt to steady my pulse was useless.
My heart beat faster, waiting for him to close in on me. But he took his time in the dark, setting his own speed for the chase. He knew exactly what he was doing. Strong hands slid around my waist and drew me toward him. He didn’t kiss me right away.
His cheek brushed against my face, and his lips grazed my ear. It was as if he wanted to inhale every part of me. The anticipation was dizzying. His body pressed close and I felt the heat from his mouth. He moved from my ear, to my neck, and skimmed my throat with his lips, raking me with his warm breath.
Oh shit. He was torturing me. It stirred the feelings of want I hadn’t been able to unleash all summer. Pent-up desire. Bottled lust. I leaned back, taking in every touch as he ignited blazes along my skin.
His hand clasped the back of my neck, wrapping his fingers through my hair before bringing my mouth to his. He tasted like the last sips of beer, and I couldn’t think of any better way to get drunk than on deep kisses like these. His tongue played with mine as he pinned me on the couch under him.
I wanted to think through what I was doing—making out with a virtual stranger at the campground—but thoughts seemed like a bad idea, an idea that wouldn’t do anything to ease the burning feeling taking over my core.
Everything throbbed and ached. I needed this. I needed him.
His hands slid under my shirt and worked their way up my back, pressing into my skin. I arched as his hands landed on my bra.
“Wait,” I whispered.
I pushed against Jake, creating enough space to pull the shirt over my head. I tossed it on the floor. He led the straps over my arms and dropped the lacy garment on the floor.
I could get lost in the kisses, the touches, the whispers in my ear.
I let out a deep moan as the heat of his mouth descended to my breast. He sucked hard, pulling my nipple with his teeth. I fisted my hands through his hair, knowing the pressure between my legs was building with each flick of his tongue.
“Oh God,” I whimpered.
He moved to the other side, and my breast throbbed from where his lips had been. He took me between his teeth, my nipple pebbling under his command. I heard a growl of satisfaction vibrate from him.
“Damn, you’re sexy,” he groaned.
He made a slow circle with his tongue. He blew across the wet skin, making my knees clench harder against his waist.
My panties were soaked. My clit throbbed. And my mind was blurred by everything my body wanted. What was he doing? All it would take was one flick of his fingers between my wet folds and I’d lose it. He’d see how desperate I was for this.
I’d fall off the cliff before we got to the good part. I was a live wire, waving in the wind. My breath was erratic. My center needy to feel how hard he was as my hips rocked into him.
I realized that the sudden abandon I felt by being with a total stranger was evaporating. This was all too intimate to experience with someone I didn’t know, and instantly, that seemed kind of important. We would be stocking shelves together in the morning. In our aprons, under my father’s watchful eye.
He’d think I had no restraint. That I was like every other girl on this island—no sexual experience in the world. God, this was embarrassing.
I bolted from the couch, knocking Jake back on his heels.
I broke the spell. I ruined the moment.
“Shit. Where’s my shirt?” I covered my breasts with one hand and searched the floor for my shirt with the other, my breath frantic. It had to be here somewhere. The camper wasn’t that big.
“Something wrong, darlin’? Are you ok?” Jake sounded calm. Of course, he wasn’t the one with only half his clothes on. “Hold on. I’ll help you.” He crawled to the floor. “Ah-ha. Here you go.”
I fumbled to find my clothes. I was glad we were in the dark so I wouldn’t have to see the look on his face while I struggled to redress.
“I need to get home. I didn’t realize how late it was. We have an early morning. Thanks for dinner. Really, it was great. And the music. And…” I had to get out of here.
“Chelsea, wait—”
But I didn’t give him a chance to explain or apologize. I bolted from the Silver Dollar and ran to my car. Today set an all-time record for embarrassments, and this night really needed to end. It was going to start over again tomorrow when I got to the store and had to train the man who had just made me almost come from nothing more than a hot kiss and some heavy petting.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ben
I slammed my hand on the phone and stopped its incessant chirping sounds. Damn, it was five in the morning. I rolled under the checked comforter, not ready to leave the warm cocoon. I liked to keep the camper icy cold at night, so when I got in bed I could wrap up in the covers. It might not be energy-efficient, but I slept best that way.
The crickets started up again, and I groaned as I stumbled out of bed and into the shower. I turned the nozzle to hot as the water sputtered to life. The night hadn’t gone exactly as I planned. The last thing I wanted to have happen was what did happen—Chelsea ran out of the Sand Dollar as if I had scorched her with a hot iron. She wasn’t that kind of girl. I should have known better. I cursed out loud, knowing I had taken things too far too fast with her.
I pressed my hands against the shower wall and lowered my head, letting the water wash over my shoulders. The heat between us had taken me by surprise. The lights went down and so did my restraint. In the dark, I was surrounded by the scent of her shampoo. Her lips were soft, drawing me in for more. Damn if the way she moaned didn’t turn me on. I had fought those sounds when I tossed and turned in the camper’s master suite last night.
I didn’t know if I could make it up to her, but I would try. I wasn’t here to upset her. It got out of control before I knew what was happening. I pounded the wall with my fist, not proud of what I had done on the couch. The water slowed to a tri
ckle. My seven minutes were up. Time to get dressed and get to work.
***
I parked my Jeep in the side employee entrance. I noticed Chelsea’s bike was racked in the stand. I exhaled. Today was going to be interesting. There probably wouldn’t be any kayak races after work. I would keep it cool and give her space.
I sauntered through the doors and grabbed an apron from the hook. She had explained that we wouldn’t open the stand until mid-morning. My first duties of the morning would include sweeping and getting the coffee ready. I could use a tall cup. The shower wasn’t long enough to wake me up.
“Hey, good morning.” I pulled the strings against my back. Chelsea was at the register, counting bills.
“Hey.” She didn’t look up and continued to stack the money in rows.
“What can I help you with?” I looked around for the coffee pot—my first choice.
“Ten—twenty—thirty—uh, why don’t you grab a broom from the closet and start on the aisles?”
“Got it.” I spun on my heels to fetch the broom.
If sweeping was what she wanted, sweeping she would get. I picked it up and tossed it to my other hand. I walked to the corner of the store farthest from her. The walk-in coolers hummed as I made piles of dirt. I had made it through five aisles before she walked toward me.
“So, after you finish with the floors, do you think you could unload some of the boxes that came in? They are kind of heavy for me to move around. I’ll put the merchandise on display. You don’t have to do that part.” Her gaze was steady, almost robotic.
“Absolutely. Just point me to the boxes. I’m your man.” I wanted to kick myself. That was a stupid thing to say. I had vowed not to flirt.
She turned away. “Let me just go ahead and show you where they are. You can come back to this.”
I followed her to a storage room off the hallway where the aprons hung. I could barely walk two feet into the room, it was so stuffed with mannequins, fishnets, and boxes.
“Wow. There’s a lot going on in here.” I looked at the shelves near the ceiling. Every single one was loaded.
She retrieved a box cutter and marked the boxes she needed help with. “All of the ones I need on the retail side have an X on them. Ok?” She hurried past me. “Just move those when you’re done sweeping.” She was gone before I could respond.
I looked at the stack and decided to haul a few to the retail side before rejoining the broom. T-shirt boxes were a lot heavier than I expected. I huffed as I placed the boxes on the floor. Definitely need to get back in the gym. Maybe Chelsea could tell me if there was one of the island.
I approached the counter where she was scribbling something on a roll of register paper. I recognized that look on her face. I had seen it before.
“Did a song hit you?”
She gathered the paper in her fist. “I-I was—”
“Can I hear it?” I leaned on my elbow.
Her blue eyes sparkled. “You want to hear it? Really?” Her tone softened. It was the first time she had countered my gaze all morning.
“Writer to writer. Let me hear it.”
She set her mouth in a determined line as if she was mentally sorting the pros and cons of sharing the words with me.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want. No pressure.” I backed off the counter a few inches.
“Ok. Yeah. Maybe you can help me. Writer to writer.” She smiled.
I liked that smile. It reminded me why I had taken the job in the first place—I was just trying to help a pretty girl. Nothing more than that.
She flattened the creases in the paper and held it up to read.
Holding you is like catching the wind
Breezing in and out of my arms
Before my heart can decide to let you in
You’re gone and maybe you’ll be back
But everything already feels lost and dark
She looked at me expectedly, her forehead creased with worry.
“Wow. You wrote that? How does the rest go? I want to hear the whole thing.”
She bit her lip. “That’s part of my problem. I get bursts of words, and then I can’t finish the songs.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m here all the time. I don’t have time to write. I have fifty of these partially written songs. I can’t finish them.”
“But you have to finish that one. It-it needs to be finished.” There weren’t many words, but there were enough to make me want more. It was like getting half a kiss—it just wasn’t enough.
“So, you like it?” Her teeth sank into her lip again.
“I do. I really do.” I looked in her eyes to reassure her that there was something to what she had created, but the minute I did, I felt like I was the one who needed reassurance.
“I-I’m going to go finish up with the floors.”
“Ok.” She folded the paper in half and tucked it in her apron. “Thanks for listening.”
“Sure thing.” I walked to where I had left the broom, and realized I had never asked her about the gym. Damn it. Women were the worst distraction—especially girls with beautiful blue eyes.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Chelsea
I flicked the loop of my apron on the wooden peg. Five o’clock couldn’t get here fast enough. Although, the day hadn’t been nearly as awkward as I thought it was going to be. Jake was cool. He didn’t make me uncomfortable. Unlike Derek, he didn’t pressure me at every turn to go out with him again. He was a few years older than I was. Maybe it was a maturity thing, or maybe it was a Jake thing.
He should be closing down the rental stand by now. I pushed the screen door open, and watched as he locked the hatch on the booth.
“How did it go today?” I asked. The sun blared in my face. I held a hand up to shield my eyes.
“Easy. I rented a few snorkel sets, a kayak, and two fishing poles. I think I have the job of the summer.” He smiled, revealing his white teeth.
My cheeks heated as I remembered his mouth on certain parts of my body, and what those teeth had done.
“I’m glad you like it so much.”
I couldn’t understand why. Shouldn’t he be itching to write like I was? I walked with him to our vehicles. I thought about how things had unfolded between us last night. Everything had been fun and easy until I flipped and ran out of the camper. It took constant pep talks throughout the day not to dive into an explanation of what happened when I had pulled away from him. I wasn’t even sure I had it figured out. The kissing was undeniably amazing, his hands were incredible, but my brain battled with my body and won. It’s for the best, I thought. He might be gorgeous and have an affinity for perfect lyrics, but it could get complicated quickly.
He pulled open the door to his Jeep. “So, I guess we get to do this again tomorrow?”
“Yeah, it’s like Groundhog Day. A new day, but same old stuff.” I walked over to her bike. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” He closed the door behind him and joined me.
My front tire was flat. Flat as a freakin’ pancake. If I tried to ride home, I would bend and mangle the rim. That beach cruiser had cost two hundred dollars; it would be expensive to repair a tire and a rim.
“Looks like I have a flat.” I bent down to examine the tire, trying to locate where the hole was. If there was only one, I could have it patched.
“All right. No problem.” Jake reached behind me and lifted the bike into the air.
“What are you doing?” I watched as he carried the bike to the open frame of his Jeep.
“I’m giving you a ride. Hop in.” He had gently placed the cruiser in the backseat and was now climbing in his side of the car.
I walked to the passenger door and slid into the seat. He cranked the Jeep and country music blasted through the speakers.
“You sure do like country music.” I thought about the music we listened to last night at the campground.
“Yeah, well I’m from Texas.” He slid his sunglasses over his eyes.
“I thought you were from Georgia, but Texas makes a lot more sense.” I didn’t think cowboy steaks were a Georgia thing. “Why the Georgia plates?”
He threw the Jeep into reverse and positioned us in front of the road. “I don’t know where you live. Which way?” He motioned to the road. One side would take us toward the campground and ferry docks, and the other around the cove, where my apartment was.
“Go right. I’m all the way around the cove. At the very end.”
“Nice. I haven’t seen this part of the island.” He peeled out of the parking lot, kicking up gravel with the tires.
A flock of seagulls split their V-formation as he steered around the circular cove that was the main attraction of the village.
“Take another right here and then left at the mailbox.” I pointed at my road. It was off the main path, and only the locals knew where this house was.
“This is where you live?” he eyed the two-story beach house with a wraparound porch.
“Yeah, but only one fourth of it is mine. It’s an amazing house. It was divided into apartments awhile back. I would love to see it as a whole house. It would be incredible.” I stepped out of the Jeep and nervously fidgeted with my keys.
“Which one is yours?” He retrieved the bike from the backseat and placed it on the driveway. He wheeled it on the back tire to keep from damaging the front rim.
I showed him where the bike rack was. I didn’t want to deal with the tire right now. I could take my car to work in the morning. “I have the corner one. A view of the ocean and the cove. If I only get part of it, at least I have the best part.”
“No kidding.” He was already ahead of me jogging up the stairs and canvassing the porch. “Nice hammock.”
“Thanks. I do a lot of writing out here.”
I remembered the few notes I had scribbled early this morning. I bit my lip, wondering if this idea would work. Jake leaned against the railing and faced the boats in the marina. He was an easy-going guy, pleasant, full of smiles, flirty as hell, but that look—I recognized that look. He was searching for something, and it wasn’t in the marina. Why hadn’t I noticed that look before?
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