Barefoot Bay_Shelter Me

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Barefoot Bay_Shelter Me Page 5

by Elana Johnson


  Which left Noah’s mind in a loop he couldn’t solve. At least not in the next eighteen minutes. So he brought his mouth to Abby’s and kissed her again.

  “Do we have time for this?” she asked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

  “Not all of it.” He wished he had a lot more time with her. “But we can just get started. Finish later.” He burned a path from her eyes to her chest, following it with the tip of his forefinger, and finally his tongue.

  She sighed into the soft bed, and Noah pressed his mouth to her breastbone, softly, and then took a longer taste of her skin. Abby fisted her fingers in his hair and held his head between her breasts.

  “There’s time, right?” he asked, his voice a ragged whisper.

  “Now, Noah.” The strain in her voice made the fire in his stomach burn hotter. With ease, he slipped his hand under her robe, the feel of her skin like satin and powder. He swore softly under his breath.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, the words stuttering through her throat.

  “We’re going to be late.”

  7

  An hour later, they stood side-by-side in the animal clinic. The sound of barking dogs and mewing cats could be heard even through the closed door in front of them. The air held the unique smell of a hospital combined with a farm, and Noah reached over and took Abby’s hand in his.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She gave him a quick smile. The flush in her cheeks hadn’t gone out yet, and Noah ducked his head as their brief sexual prelude in the villa replayed through his mind. With effort, he switched his focus from the beautiful woman beside him to the clinic. The reception area was clean and decorated, with a wall of windows that let in plenty of light.

  The right side was reserved for cats, with the left for dogs. No one had been waiting, which made sense considering their meeting was now closer to five o’clock. A twinge of guilt stole through Noah as he realized he’d probably kept the veterinarian from going home. His fingers tightened around Abby’s. But kissing and touching Abby had been worth being late, and Noah could only hope for the complete package that evening.

  “Doctor Hanks is ready for you,” the receptionist said, gesturing them down a short hall where another door sat.

  “This is nice,” Abby whispered as they stepped into an office the size of a bedroom. Which made sense, Noah supposed, as the clinic had been made out of what used to be a house in a perfect location near the center of town.

  Dr. Hanks had decorated the office with pictures of dogs and cats, all professionally taken by the looks of the photos. They’d been printed in various sizes and hung on the wall without frames, like an art gallery.

  Noah smiled, a sense of peace overcoming him. Albert obviously loved animals, loved this life on the island, as Noah caught hints of the mimosa flower and the tropical island life mingled with the four-legged creatures.

  He wandered to a watercolor of a bright purple mimosa flower, lifting one hand to trace his fingertips along the edge of the paper.

  “My niece did that.”

  Noah spun from the painting to find a tall, silver-haired man wearing a fond smile as he gazed at the watercolor.

  “Of course, she’s nearly forty now and hasn’t set foot on the island in over a decade.” He exhaled. “So.” He turned toward Noah, the smile staying but switching to friendly instead of familial. “You must be Noah Benson.”

  Noah shook his hand and indicated Abby. “This is my…girlfriend, Abby Thames.”

  A hiss sounded from Abby, but she silenced it quickly when Albert looked at her, his smile broadening. “Abby Thames? Macey Anderson’s niece?”

  “That’s right.” Abby grinned at him and shook his hand too. “Sorry we’re late. We were putting the final touches on our proposal for you.”

  Noah almost choked but managed to turn it into a cough. There’d been nothing final about the touching they’d been doing, and nothing they’d done had contributed anything to the business side of their partnership.

  “Please, sit down. Let’s see what you’ve got.” Albert stepped past them and sat behind the oak desk, weariness in every line around his still-bright eyes.

  Noah accepted the folder from Abby, and quickly exchanged a glance that was sweet and sexy at the same time. He hadn’t thought Florida could really change his life. Hadn’t truly believed he wanted to be a veterinarian. Hadn’t known he could be happy somewhere it didn’t snow.

  But in that moment, that single breath of time, he felt true happiness. He did believe he could be a brilliant veterinarian for the people on Mimosa Key. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that coming to Florida had changed his life.

  Well, maybe not Florida. But the woman sitting beside him.

  Abby enjoyed listening to Noah’s bass voice as he went through his proposal to purchase the property at the clinic, the client list, the outbuildings, all the equipment. Everything was contained in neat bar graphs and pie charts, spreadsheets and simple sentences. And when Noah slid the paper containing the proposed purchase price for the lot of it, Albert’s eyes widened.

  He placed the paper on top of the pile in the folder and closed it. “Do you think that’s a fair number?” he asked.

  “In any major city across America,” Noah said in a voice full of supreme confidence.

  Albert leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. Abby’s heart thumped wildly beneath her breastbone. Had Charity given Noah bad information? Did Albert not want to sell his practice?

  “This is not a major city,” Albert said simply.

  “Give me a counteroffer,” Noah said coolly. Abby marveled at his strength, the way he didn’t so much as twitch. She wanted to reach over and undo that man-bun, slide her fingers through his silky hair the way she’d done an hour ago.

  But she’d held back, and they’d only ended up making out. She knew why she’d held back, and it had everything to do with the diamond ring she’d left sitting on her nightstand that morning. She couldn’t be with Noah until he knew the extent of her relationship with Marcus, until she’d truly freed herself from LA, until she’d decided to stay on Mimosa Key.

  Not all of that would happen tonight, and worry exploded through her at how to make it through the evening without outright rejecting him.

  Don’t reject him, she told herself as he waited for Albert to make the counteroffer. Trust him. Tell him.

  He’d been honest with her about his relationship in Jackson Hole. Honest in his feelings about owning and operating a veterinary clinic. Honest about why he’d come to Florida.

  Abby felt like someone had taken her nerves and thrown them in a blender. She’d felt like that for too long in her life.

  “Half of what you wrote,” Albert finally said.

  “You think that’s a fair offer?” Noah asked, his eyebrows stretching toward his hairline.

  “Yes.” He glanced up at the photographs. “I’m ready to grow my photography business.”

  “I’ll have my lawyer draw up the paperwork,” Noah said, exhaling as he stood. “Pleasure to meet you Albert. You’ve got a great facility here.” They shook hands again, and Abby flashed a smile, but her insides quaked.

  Noah moved down the hall with Albert, and Abby watched them go, part of her wanting to leave the island, get lost on the mainland. But that part was small—smaller than it had ever been—and shrinking the longer she was with Noah.

  They left Albert standing in the doorway of the clinic and Noah drove about a block before he pounded his palm against the steering wheel and whooped. “I can’t believe we just did that.” He swung the car onto the side of the road and twisted fully toward her. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

  He laughed, a true, joyous laugh, and curled one hand around the back of her neck, drawing her into a kiss that set her cells ablaze.

  “Noah,” she said into his mouth.

  “Let’s go eat,” he said. “Or wait. I could order room service. I swear I won’t mix f
ruit with cheese again.” He looked at her with hope in every dark fleck of his eyes. She wanted to get lost with him in that villa, the scent of roses and fine wine surrounding them as they kissed.

  “Let’s go out and celebrate,” she said, a blip of her former life sparking into existence. “I have something I need to tell you.”

  If he noticed the seriousness of her tone or the anxiety running rampant through her system, he didn’t show it. He simply put the car in gear and started driving, chattering about how he hoped he could live up to Albert’s reputation and lamenting the fact that he hadn’t included all the photographs of the island’s pet residents in the deal.

  “Hey, can we swing by my aunt’s place?” she asked. “I want to change into something more celebratory.”

  Noah glanced at her, that same hungry look he’d worn in Rockrose. “Like that pale blue dress you were wearing the first time we met?”

  “Oh, you liked that, huh?” Too bad it wasn’t hers and she couldn’t put it on for him as she’d already given it back to Maryann.

  “I’d like to see you in it…and out of it.”

  She gave his arm a playful shove, semi-disgusted with herself for how easily the acting came to her. If she’d just tell him about Marcus—all about Marcus—she could see herself getting serious with Noah fast.

  With the windows rolled down and the sun setting into the Gulf, Abby directed Noah to her aunt’s house. Everything seemed perfect and picturesque, and she hated that she couldn’t enjoy it.

  “Right there, on the—” She cut off at the sight of a hulking, black SUV in the gravel driveway of her aunt’s house on the right. No one on the island drove a vehicle like that.

  Her throat turned to sand and her body felt cemented to the seat as Noah pulled in beside it. “Is that your aunt’s car?” He peered at the SUV like he’d never seen one before.

  Before Abby could shake her head no, or vocalize anything, the front door opened, and Marcus Malone walked out.

  She spun toward Noah. “Noah, I have to tell you something.”

  But he’d seen Marcus too, and he swore softly under his breath. “Is that Marcus Malone?” He got out of the car before Abby could stop him. He leaned back in. “The baseball player?”

  Abby sprang from the car, desperate to stop her worlds from colliding. Marcus saw her and stalled, freezing her to the spot too. Noah was suspended between them, striding toward Marcus in slow motion while Abby’s ideas of telling him everything in the private, romantic setting of the villa crashing to the ground around her.

  8

  Marcus Malone only had eyes for Abby, and a piece of her history clicked into place inside Noah’s head. Marcus was her ex-boyfriend. The one she’d left behind in LA. No wonder she’d frozen near the hood of the car and couldn’t look away from the giant of a man who’d barely moved down the front steps.

  Another woman exited the house, and it wasn’t hard to tell how she was related to Abby. Same sloped nose. Same high cheekbones. Same passionate blue eyes, though her mother’s said angry more than anything else.

  “There you are,” the blonde said, her curls swinging in time with her hips as she marched down the stairs, past Marcus, and right past Noah. In fact, she very nearly trampled him off the sidewalk and into a flowerbed that didn’t actually contain any flowers.

  “We’ve been on this godforsaken island for hours, looking for you.” Her mother scanned her, her expression filling with disgust. “Wow, Abby, you’ve gained at least twenty pounds since you left LA.”

  “I was at work,” Abby said, ignoring her mother’s dig about her weight. Noah flinched, though he supposed she had worked for probably eighty percent of her day.

  “We tried the resort,” her mother said. The heels finally stopped clicking when she reached Abby. “You weren’t there.”

  “I was…” She waved her arm at Noah. “Helping a friend with his business venture.”

  Her mother rounded on him, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. “A business venture? What does that mean?”

  Noah was suddenly very grateful he and Abby hadn’t rounded all the bases that afternoon. “She put together a business plan for me that we presented to the local veterinarian, who’s looking to sell his practice.” It did sound so business-like, something Noah had dreamt of being—just not for a veterinary clinic, on an island off the coast of Florida. After all, a white-coat-wearing vet was a far cry from a long-haired, back-country, snowboard survivalist.

  Marcus stepped to his side. “Your aunt wouldn’t let us out of the living room.”

  Those words thawed Abby. “Good for her.” She stomped forward. “What are you doing here?”

  “You told me to come,” he said simply.

  “I did not.” She wore her anger plainly on her face, her eyes practically shooting fire at the baseball player who was twice her size.

  He pulled out his phone, and it looked like a building block in his giant hands. Horror warred with humiliation in the back of Noah’s throat. Had Abby lied to him? Was she still seeing Marcus? Had she asked him to come to Mimosa Key?

  Marcus started reading. “I said, ‘Put the ring back on and come home, or send it back.’” Marcus glanced up from the screen. “You said, ‘Come and get it.’” He took a single step forward. “I’m here to get what’s mine.”

  The ring.

  He wasn’t just her boyfriend.

  Put the ring on and come home.

  The words rang in Noah’s head, but he managed to silence them quickly.

  I’m here to get what’s mine.

  He didn’t like the sound of Marcus taking anything from Abby, and he took two steps forward, putting himself between the enormous shortstop and Abby. “What do you think is yours?” he asked, totally a jealous boyfriend thing to say.

  “She is,” Marcus said, barely looking at Noah. “As long as she has my diamond ring.”

  Betrayal tasted terrible, and Noah would know, as Abby was the second blonde in as many months to give him a healthy dose of it. He turned toward her too. “You still have a diamond ring from this guy?”

  “I was going to send it back.” Her voice sounded like she’d inhaled helium.

  “Didn’t sound like it,” Marcus said, waving the phone like it was a legal document. “We’re engaged until you give the ring back.”

  “Don’t be stupid now, Abby,” her mother said, stepping to Abby’s side. “He still wants you.”

  Abby glanced at Noah, catching his eye for only a moment. Not long enough for him to determine anything. He couldn’t seem to swallow, because Jules still had his ring. Did that mean he was still engaged too?

  “So, what do you want, Abby?” Marcus reached toward her and awkwardly patted her short hair. “I miss the long locks, beautiful. Why’d you cut your hair so short? Doesn’t look like you at all.”

  Noah thought the short hairdo fit her perfectly, but his voice seemed lodged way down in his gut.

  “Abby.” Her mother nudged her, a measure of reproach in her tone. “Tell him you love him.”

  “Do you love him?” Noah choked out, more embarrassment than he’d ever known cascading through him with the speed and force of river rapids.

  “Are you going to come home with me, beautiful?” Marcus asked.

  “Are you?” her mother pressed.

  “I don’t know!” Abby exploded. Her fists clenched and her eyes filled with tears. “All of you, just leave me alone. Stop asking me questions. I—I don’t know!” She stormed away from her mother. The electricity of her fury hit Noah as she passed him too. She took the four steps to the house in two bounds and practically ripped the storm door off its hinges.

  Noah felt like he’d entered the eye of a raging hurricane. The slam of the door punctuated the rip in his heart. He’d only met Abby a few short days ago, but he’d felt like she’d been real with him. She was kind, and smart, and someone Noah really wanted to spend more time with.

  Her mother spoke to Marcus, who responded. Noah
didn’t hear what they were saying. He just stared at the door, willing Abby to burst through it, throw Marcus’s diamond ring at him and yell at him to get lost. The door stayed stubbornly shut.

  Noah’s pride couldn’t allow him to stay here for another second. And besides, he needed to make a phone call to another blonde in Jackson Hole and find out if he was still engaged or not.

  Abby paced from one side of the kitchen to the other, the space not nearly big enough to contain her panic. Constant questions ran through her mind, and she couldn’t seem to identify an answer for any of them.

  Her mother’s voice screamed so loudly in her head, and she hated that above all else. In the six months since she’d left LA, Abby had been able to silence that voice.

  Abby, tell him you love him.

  But she didn’t love Marcus Malone. She didn’t think she ever had. She’d loved the idea of being Marcus Malone’s wife. Going to the baseball games with him. The after-parties. Thrilled with the upswing in her career when she was photographed on his arm.

  “I don’t want that life,” she said as the teakettle started to wail. Aunt Macey heaved herself out of the armchair in the living room and entered the kitchen.

  “You belong on this island.” She took the kettle off the heat but made no move to actually make tea. “Take it from someone who left the city life behind decades ago.”

  When Abby had first arrived back on the island, she’d thought her aunt was losing her marbles. But in that moment, Aunt Macey was absolutely sane, and her words made so much sense.

  “I do belong on this island.” Abby spoke with a sense of awe, like she hadn’t realized where she belonged in this world until that very moment. And she hadn’t.

  “Can’t live with me forever.” Aunt Macey finally reached for a teacup, her meaning clear. Get an apartment.

  “And I need a new job.” Plans tumbled through Abby’s head. She’d always had such great plans. And if she listened to the voice in her head—her mother’s voice—that was all she’d ever had. Plans. She never actually executed any of those plans.

 

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