Sexy Bachelor

by Maggie Monroe

  5

  Sierra

  I glanced back over my shoulder at Blake and Cole. I had settled at the bow of the boat. The wind whipped through my hair as Blake steered us around the island.

  Cole was laughing at something Blake had said, but I couldn’t hear what the guys were discussing over the muffled sounds of the wind.

  I don’t know why I decided to jump on board. It was stupid and rash. I didn’t want Blake to know it bothered me. I wanted to act like things were fine. Normal. I could handle it.

  But on the inside I was dying. Falling apart. Shaking from the look in his eye. The anger in his voice. What in the hell was I doing here?

  I tried to catch my hair in a fist. It was blowing all around my face.

  I edged off the bow and attempted to stand. Before I was completely upright, the boat slowed to a crawling pace.

  “Be careful up there,” Blake called. “I don’t want my passengers going overboard.” But there was no concern in his voice. It was a definite warning not to screw with his night.

  With the boat almost still, Cole walked toward me. “You need something? Out of beer?”

  “Uh, no, just wondering if you could tell me where we are.” I looked away from Cole, and motioned toward the water. I used to know every part of the sound. All the creeks. Now it was practically foreign.

  I was turned around and couldn’t get my bearings.

  “Why don’t you sit with Blake? He knows the island better than anyone.”

  I didn’t know if that would make the shaking stop or make it worse. Why did seeing Blake Wyatt after all these years do this to me?

  Sure I’d seen him on TV. It was hard not to. He was the biggest thing to ever come off this island. He was one of the AFA’s biggest stars. And he was my ex.

  The guy I never stopped thinking about. The one who haunted me. The one who made it impossible to let another guy near me. Damn it. Why was I on his boat?

  I stood and balanced myself before taking a step toward the stern. I had to prove to myself and to the guys that I could be casual about this. What happened all those years ago didn’t matter anymore. I had accepted our fate.

  Blake and I weren’t meant to be. He was successful and famous. I was living my dream in Dallas. We were never going to be right for each other.

  “Can I sit here?” I pointed to the seat Cole had vacated next to Blake.

  “Go ahead.” Blake sipped from his beer and cut the engine to an idle. “We can slow it down in these calm waters. No danger of hitting sandbars tonight.”

  I lowered myself onto the narrow bench next to him. He kept his eyes straight ahead, concentrating on the channel markers. As he clutched the steering wheel with one hand, I noticed the muscles in his arms flexing with each movement.

  “That’s good.”

  This was fucking awkward.

  “I can just drop you off. Cole’s drunk. This was his idea. Not mine.”

  I saw his cousin propped against the bow. His eyes were closed.

  “I’m fine.” I felt as if I had to say it aloud. He needed to hear it. I needed to hear it. It was a complete lie.

  “Sure you are. Always fucking fine,” he grumbled.

  I stiffened next to him. Maybe I just needed to get off this boat.

  “Hey, what was that old story you used to tell?” I asked. I recognized where we were for once. “Was it the swimmer something?”

  “Fuck, Sierra. You don’t remember? Seriously?”

  I shook my head. “Not really.”

  “I could tell you, but I wouldn’t want to scare you.”

  “You can’t scare me,” I taunted.

  “You sure about that?” Blake smiled. It was sexy and smoldering. Enough to make me shiver.

  He eased closer and rested his arm on the ledge above my shoulders. The breeze swirled through my hair, and I wondered if he could smell my shampoo, because I was drinking in every ounce of him—even though I tried not to.

  “Try me.” I turned toward him, fully aware that his arm was almost touching me. Almost.

  “See that light out there.” He pointed to a faint flashing yellow light in the distance.

  “Of course,” I responded. It was as clear as any of the other markers dotting the dark waters.

  He pivoted toward me. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t take us to it. As soon as we head toward it, it will move.”

  My eyes grew big. “Oh wait. I think I remember that story.”

  I never believed in ghost stories or legends. “It’s not real, Blake.”

  “It’s real. The way my dad told it, a sailor was stranded on the shoals after a shipwreck about a hundred years ago. He was able to get out of the ship with a lantern and tried to swim to shore, but the currents out here are unpredictable and he never made it to land. The next day, they found his lantern, but never the body.”

  I shivered and inadvertently scooted closer to Blake.

  He continued with the tale. “So, the legend goes that the blinking yellow light is him still trying to swim to shore, but no one can ever catch up to it because of the currents.”

  “Holy shit. It’s still the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard.” Ok, maybe I was a little scared. I had forgotten all of the tragic stories from the ocean.

  “You want me to show you?” Blake placed his hand on the gearshift, ready to maneuver the boat toward the lantern’s light.

  “Definitely.”

  He laughed and gave me a killer smile that made me glad I’d boarded his boat.

  “Hey, Cole.” He called up front, but his cousin was busy sleeping off his beers.

  I lightly bit at my lower lip. Something about the way Blake took command of the boat as he stood and steered toward the golden light without reservation made me look at him the way I used to. It was kind of hot.

  “Almost there,” he shouted over the wind.

  I peered over the console, trying to keep my eyes on the target. The closer we got, the weaker the color was. I squinted harder as Blake slowed the boat.

  “Where did it go? It should be here.” I stood, looking over the side of the boat.

  “Over there.” Blake pointed three hundred yards east.

  Blake reached down and let his hand rest on my shoulder. “I think that’s enough ghost hunting for one night. What do you say I take you home?”

  Surprised by the heat that stemmed from my shoulder, I smiled. “Sounds good.”

  “Hold on up there!” Blake shouted before throwing the boat into full gear and pointing it toward Aunt Lindy’s pier.

  6

  Blake

  I dropped Sierra off on her aunt’s pier and didn’t even look over my shoulder. I wasn’t supposed to care if she made it inside the house, or if she even fell over into the dark waters.

  It was stupid relieving old high school pranks about ghost stories and shit that was from the past.

  I chugged the last of my beer and steered us back. Cole could wake up in the morning to a neck full of mosquito bites. I left him snoring on the bow and hopped off.

  I didn’t know if I could shake it. If I could pretend she wasn’t here. I drove home with fireworks exploding overhead.

  My palm slammed into the steering wheel. My summer was fucked. The peace I needed off the field to be the warrior I needed to be on the field was fucked. The last shred of solitude I had found in my life was fucked because Sierra Emory had decided to come home.

  It didn’t matter she hadn’t been seen here in eight years. She never visited her aunt. I heard she didn’t even make the funeral.

  And now what? She thought she could parade that tight ass into one of Shirley’s parties and all would be forgiven?

  No one around here cared she was some kind of hot as shit reporter in Dallas. Money didn’t impress islanders. Neither did fame. Hard work did. Loyalty. Family. She’d fucked all that up.

  And it was time someone told her she didn’t belong on this island.

  I drove deeper through the winding streets u
ntil I parked outside of the two-story Victorian house.

  It had been in Sierra’s family for over a hundred years. The islanders said Aunt Lindy’s father was crazy when he built it. They said it wouldn’t withstand a hurricane or even a nor’easter, but here it was, still standing.

  I glared at the white siding and the drain pipe next to the upstairs bedroom. I’d helped Sierra sneak out more than once using the metal as a ladder.

  I slammed the truck door, marching up the back stairs. They creaked under my weight.

  “Sierra!” I pounded on the door. “Sierra. Open up.”

  I heard the lock rattle and then she appeared on the other side of the screen. Her face glistened with tears.

  What the fuck?

  “What are you doing here?” She wiped at her cheeks with her fingertips.

  “Why are you crying?” My shoulders were tense. My neck strained. I had walked up here with a mission to put her straight.

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing. Stupid nostalgia I guess.”

  “Nostalgia, huh?” I crossed my arms. It was fucking ironic is what it was.

  “What’s wrong? Why are you banging on the door?”

  “I thought we needed to get a few things straight.”

  “Like what?”

  “Are you going to let me in?” The screen door was a barrier between us.

  Her hand rested on the latch and suddenly the door was open and I was inside the old house.

  There were boxes everywhere. Half the furniture was covered in sheets.

  The place was depressing.

  There was a light on in the kitchen. Sierra leaned against the wooden countertop. “What is it? Did you show up to tell me more ghost stories? Because believe me, I have enough to last the rest of my life.”

  “No. No ghost stories. But seeing you is like living one.”

  “Ouch.” She lowered her eyes. “How long have you been waiting to say that?”

  The anger flowed through my blood like hot lava. Did she have any idea what she’d done to me? Did she know what she’d cost me?

  “Too long.” I clenched my teeth.

  “Now that you’ve said it,” her pale blue eyes lifted to mine, “you can go, Blake.”

  “You can’t throw me out.”

  “Yes, I can. It might have been nice for two seconds to cruise around the island and hang out with Cole, but clearly that’s not going to work between us.”

  “No. It’s not.” I took a step toward her. The light behind her cast her into a dark shadow, but I could still see the tears glistening on her cheeks.

  “So leave then. Let me be miserable on my own. Can’t you do that?”

  I stopped in front of her and inhaled the air around us. I could smell her perfume. Her shampoo. I could almost taste the strawberry lip gloss that she’d used to wear on her lips.

  “I’m not going until I’ve said what I have to say,” I growled.

  Her eyes flared. “Then say it and get out.”

  My hand snaked around her waist, pulling her toward me. In an instant my lips crashed into hers as she threw her arms around my neck. The kiss was hot and fiery. Enough to make my cock throb. My tongue found hers twisting and sliding in a rhythm that was at the same time new and familiar.

  I tugged her hair through my hands, deepening the contact until I heard that perfect little purr she made. The one I’d never forgotten. The one that haunted me like a damn siren’s song.

  My blood raged with heat. My cock throbbed. My hands coasted over her body. And then I realized I had a chance to fuck Sierra Emory again and everything went black.

  7

  Sierra

  His hands tangled in my hair and the heat spread from my neck to my breasts. They perked and hardened as his hand slid under my shirt.

  It all happened so fast. I didn’t have time to think or feel. Only react to the way Blake knew how to handle my body.

  I grabbed at him. Needing contact. Needing warmth. It was the hottest part of summer, but I had been locked up in this lonely house without warmth. Without this.

  Blake wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. An overbearing, confident, sexy-as-hell man. His shoulders bulged above me and I felt the hardness of his erection press into my hip.

  I moaned slightly at the impact of it all.

  And that’s when we broke apart. Like two magnets completely repelled by each other. Blake stumbled backward and I reached for the countertop to keep from buckling to the ground.

  That kiss never should have happened.

  Before I could say anything, he walked to the door, slamming it behind him. I touched my lips with my fingertips, feeling the burn his mouth had branded on my skin.

  Shit.

  I locked the door as he peeled out of the driveway. The wheels sprayed gravel in every direction. I leaned into the door as if that would somehow steel me to do the right thing for once.

  Since I had been here nothing had gone right. Tonight was just another example.

  Everywhere I turned were reminders of how much I had screwed up. I slid to the floor and let the tears follow.

  I’d always wanted to tell Blake the truth. I’d always wanted him to know, but too much time had passed. And then he’d been drafted by the AFA. Now, he was famous—he was a millionaire. He didn’t need an ex-girlfriend showing up to confess her past sins.

  I sobbed into my hands until I knew my face was red and blotchy.

  What could he do about it now? What would he say? How would I ever explain what had happened?

  I crawled toward the coffee table and grabbed a handful of tissues. I blew my nose, knowing it was pointless. The tears were going to come back tenfold.

  Just seeing Blake again brought it all back. Every memory. Every moment we’d spent together. Every shred of glass that pierced my heart.

  I’d spent my life putting it all behind me and now I couldn’t run anymore. It was all around me. The lies. The deceit. What I had given up. How weak I had been. I shook on the floor, letting the sobs wrack my shoulders harder with each wave of emotion.

  ***

  Eight Years Ago

  Emily tapped on the door. “Sierra, you’ve been in there forever. When are you coming out?”

  I stared at the stick on the bathroom counter. I was huddled on the floor in shock. Maybe it was a dream or rather a nightmare.

  “Are you ok?” my best friend called through the door.

  I rose slowly, needing the reassurance of the tile under my feet. I unlocked the door and let Emily in.

  “What is it? What does it say?”

  I pointed to the countertop.

  She covered her mouth. “Oh my God. You’re pregnant. You’re actually pregnant.”

  I nodded in disbelief. It hadn’t registered yet. I held up the two lines and looked at them again. This couldn’t be happening.

  I felt her arm circle me. “Are you ok?”

  “I think so.” I turned toward her. “What’s Blake going to say?”

  She squeezed me tightly. “He’s going to say that whatever you need is what he’s going to do. He loves you. He totally loves you.”

  I bit my lip. “But a baby?” I could feel my stomach roll, but I didn’t know if it was from the nerves or from the morning sickness that had started plaguing me.

  “He can handle anything.”

  I nodded in agreement. It was true. We might be young, but I knew there wasn’t another guy in the world like him.

  There were a lot of old families on Gull island. Families who had passed down family businesses from generation to generation. Sometimes it was fishing. Sometimes it was a local store, but for the Wyatts it was boat building. Blake had something in his family I didn’t have—roots.

  Even though Aunt Lindy had told me the history of the house and about all of the years her father and uncles had served in the Coast Guard, I still didn’t know where I fit into that.

  I picked up the stick and stuffed it in the paper bag from the store. Emily had d
riven with me off the island to buy the test. The last thing I needed was some nosey neighbor finding out I thought I was pregnant. Aunt Lindy and Blake’s dad would have heard about it before I even had the test results if we hadn’t moved the shopping trip off the island.

  Emily had been brave enough to hand the cashier a wad of bills when I thought I’d pass out from the embarrassment.

  “Where are you going?” she asked. “Are you ok? You’re looking a little pale.”

  “I’m going to tell him.”

  “Now?” Her eyes widened and her brunette curls bounced.

  “Yes. Now. If I don’t, I might talk myself out of it. And this isn’t one of those times I can talk myself out of it, right?”

  She nodded with a soft smile. “Of course you have to tell him. Go. Talk to him.”

  Emily had moved at the beginning of our senior year from Charlotte. From the start, we’d had that instant girl thing where we could finish each other’s sentences. Sometimes I swore we could even read each other’s thoughts. I don’t know how I’d manage to exist before she showed up.

  “Ok. Good luck. Call me after. Ok?”

  I hugged my best friend. “I will.” I needed that hug. It seemed hard to believe I had only known her a year.

  I rushed down the spiral staircase. Aunt Lindy was in the kitchen working on dinner.

  “When are you coming back, honey?” she asked.

  “For dinner.” I smiled. I wasn’t sure how I was going to break the news to her either. First the daddy. Then I could worry about everyone else.

  “I’m working on roasting a chicken.”

  I grabbed at my stomach. For the past week, any mention of poultry had made my stomach queasy. I smiled meekly.

  “I’ll make sure to be home.”

  Once I put my key in the ignition, this was it. Our lives would never be the same. I hopped behind the wheel of my Jeep. I pressed my palm to my stomach. It was still flat. You would never know looking at me I was six-weeks pregnant. There was no more time to hesitate. I backed out of the driveway and raced to Blake’s house.

  I pulled up in front of the boat storage building where Blake’s dad and uncle worked. The family business was boat building, but not for Blake. He had a football scholarship. A full ride. He only had a month left before practice and school started.