Honor on the Cape

by M. K. Meredith

  Or his need to prove that he was much more than just the heir to the Astor throne?

  And as James Alexander Wilmington Astor the III, it had been his duty to follow suit. More so, he’d been determined to show everyone he’d deserved to. His drive to succeed in the short term had blinded him to what he’d wanted in his future.

  He hadn’t expected the opportunity to come when it had, and he’d thought they’d have more time. He thought he had time to establish a relationship with her and find a different way for the next Mrs. Astor to live that would be more fulfilling. But his sense of duty, his drive to succeed hadn’t been her responsibility.

  He’d talked himself into believing it was kinder to encourage her to go home to Ireland and live a full life than one dictated by the ties of his family’s history. Always left waiting for him to come home.

  He shook his head. “Blayne.”

  She climbed higher. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”

  The tightness in her voice was more than enough warning, but he had to do the hard thing and pursue it anyway.

  Joining her in the middle of the treetop, he straddled the branch she was on and faced her.

  “Look.” He adjusted his position. “I couldn’t ask you to keep following me around because of my family business.” Regret piled so high, he could barely see around it.

  She stared him in the eye. “You never asked. You explained, but you refused to discuss it. You decided for me…which I hated the most. As if I didn’t have an intelligent thought of my own. And then you left me, Jamie. You left and never hesitated.”

  “I did. I told you.”

  “But you didn’t.” She leaned against the trunk. “If you had, you’d have known I’d stayed. If you had talked to me, you’d have known that I could not go running to my da after hurting him the way we did.”

  The sorrow in her eyes tore at him.

  “He warned me. Did I ever tell you that?” she asked softly, her voice thick. “He told me our haste and our actions were selfish. But I ignored him because nothing was going to keep me from being with you.” She closed her eyes against the sight of him. “But you didn’t feel the same for me.”

  He shot his hand out. “No. Blayne. That’s not—”

  “You left,” she interrupted. Two words that told a story he was ashamed to star in.

  All the years flashed through his mind. Holidays, birthdays, simple weekends. She’d missed them all. Trying to protect her from himself, from his mother’s lonely existence, only left her lonelier than she ever would have been as his wife.

  Hell, he’d hate him, too.

  “Wow. That is the truth of it, isn’t it?” she whispered, her lip trembling. “All this time, I’ve been so mad at you, but I’m the real one to blame. I should have never left Ireland.”

  He shook her head. “What we had was special. If you hadn’t come with me, we would have never—”

  Bewilderment widened her eyes. “Never what? Broken up? Been alone? None of it mattered. I devastated my father, abandoned my siblings…and for what? A boy who didn’t really love me.”

  She blinked and gazed past him, with a shudder. Her eyes roamed the landscape behind him for a few silent moments. “But I never would have had this. I do have you to thank for that.”

  He tried to swallow, but his throat closed at the finality in her tone. Glancing over his shoulder, he stared across the cape toward the lighthouse and the Atlantic beyond. It was a breathtaking view and somehow made his actions worse than he’d imagined.

  “I’m sorry.” He wanted to shout at her for saying he didn’t love her, but the truth was, he had to take responsibility for his actions back then. “I fucked up, then convinced myself I was doing what was right. I made a huge mistake, but you can’t say I didn’t love you. We were best friends.”

  “Friends?” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Friends don’t abandon each other, Jamie. Larkin would never walk away from me like that.”

  His gut twisted as she seemed to slide further away even though he could reach out and touch her.

  “We work together. We dated once upon a time.” She leaned toward an adjacent branch and grabbed on, then slid her legs from the one they shared. Branch by branch, she made her way down the tree until she paused and looked back up at him through the newly budding branches.

  The hollow look in her gaze dropped all his hope like a stone in his gut.

  “But we are not friends.”

  Blayne forced the words out. She had to make Jamie think there was nothing between them in order to keep herself from running to him. The sincerity in his eyes, the passion in his voice had tugged at her in such a way that she wanted to abandon all thoughts of reason and open up to him once again.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  It was time to get on with her life. To connect with her family. She’d learned a very hard lesson about trust, about who and what she could count on.

  Love certainly wasn’t it. It came with conditions and ultimatums.

  Larkin loved her. But she wasn’t her friend’s priority and shouldn’t be.

  Her da told if she left to never come back. The words had torn her in two and must have been a family motto since she’d been guilty of the same with Jamie.

  Karma may have been sending her a message, but so had common sense. She was not destined for a forever love. A heavy weight forced a sigh from her lips as she slipped to the earthy floor, the crunch of dried leaves and pine needles reminding her of the consequence of trusting someone—of loving someone.

  So here she was, faced with all the feelings she wasn’t good with, and had to find a way to stay strong. The answer was keeping the one man she’d ever loved at arm’s length.

  He dropped down beside her, the vibration of his landing reverberating through her body. “The hell we aren’t.” His voice held an edge that skittered up her spine.

  The stone gray of his eyes seemed to harden with the most delicious intensity when he was upset, and she tried to ignore the hold they had on her. “Look, we need to talk about the board of directors. As much as I hate admitting that Ryker is right about anything, we do work well together. So, let’s work.”

  She ran her fingers along the spongy moss carpeting a large boulder, braced for a fight.

  “Fine.”

  His acquiescence startled her more than if he’d yelled. She walked ahead, afraid to make eye contact, which burned her ass even more. It was time to buck up. Take charge. There was no other way to survive him. With a surge of rebellion, she glanced at him.

  He was a giant in the forest, looking like a man determined to win.

  Her heart sped up in her chest. She couldn’t think of a time that he’d ever lost.

  “Dr. Stanton,” she blurted out.

  With a nod, he stepped up beside her. “Good choice. I was also thinking Clint Fenwick.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Really? That man patrols the good people of Cape Van Buren closer than Sheriff Davenport.” She didn’t even try to hide her disgust.

  Jamie’s laugh was hard and swift and made her belly flutter.

  “You just don’t like anyone telling you what to do.”

  “Well, that’s because other people are stupid.” She climbed up and over a cluster of rocks, then jumped to another clearing. “They always think they somehow have the right to tell you how to live your life and what that should look like.” She shook her head, continuing forward.

  The sounds of the ocean called to her. She loved the rhythm and flow of the crashing waves. The crisp spray of the sea breeze, almost like a cleansing, like starting anew. “I’ll never understand—

  “Stop talking. Don’t move.” Jamie snapped in a fierce whisper.

  She spun around. “Are you kidding?” Had the bloke gone mad? She certainly didn’t take orders from him.

  But the look on his face had nothing to do with judgment and everything to do with concern.

  A few rough bluffs came from u
p the path she was on.

  Slowly, she turned her head until she was looking in the eyes of a huge moose. A cow with a small calf trailing behind it.

  Adrenaline raced through her limbs, leaving her hands and feet stinging with pins and needles. “Jamie,” she whispered. Her heart thumped in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

  The cow was too close to run from, but if it didn’t turn around, that was her only option.

  She moved away, but the moose stepped toward her, and she froze.

  Jamie carefully stepped down from the rock beside her. “Steady,” he whispered.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice was barely a desperate breeze of sound, but the moose’s ears laid back, and the large animal licked her lips. A sure sign that she was not happy.

  “I’m here.” His voice registered as if whispered from miles away.

  The moose stomped on the ground. Jamie closed the space between them, now in the sights of the moose as well. She released a few hard bluffs, then charged.

  “Drop!” In one hard push, Jamie shoved her to the ground then covered her body with his own. The moose stomped her huge hooves next to them. She couldn’t see anything with her head tucked and his body blocking out the light, but she felt the shudder and felt the spray of dirt.

  The commotion continued for what felt like a lifetime.

  Jamie kept cover over her body with a few grunts, swears, and a prayer, then the thundering of hooves faded off in the distance.

  The two of them stayed wrapped tight in their little cocoon, heavy breaths and heartbeats all she could hear. Jamie adjusted above her, then slowly moved off her to the dirt at her side.

  “Holy fuck.”

  She peeked down the path to find their angry friend gone, and gingerly sunk to her backside. “Ohmygod.”

  Jamie’s jaw was set, and he was holding the side of his right thigh as he watched to make sure the moose wasn’t returning for round two.

  “Are you okay?” She slid closer to him, the smell of earth and sea mixing with his cologne.

  With a nod, he sighed.

  “What were you thinking?” she ground out.

  He held her gaze with a stubborn glare of his own. “She wasn’t letting you move, and I wasn’t going to leave you out here alone.”

  Her pulse refused to slow down, and tears of relief or fear or both burned behind her eyelids. What the hell had he been thinking? He could have been hurt.

  She punched him in the arm, but before he could respond, she grabbed him and yanked him to her chest.

  “Blayne.”

  “Shut up. Just shut up.” She kissed the top of his head, keeping her arms wrapped around as much of his large frame as she could. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  She’d never been so scared in her life.

  He held her gaze. “I’m okay.”

  “You got hurt.” She glanced at the tear in his cargos and the red skin visible beneath. Her throat constricted.

  “And I’ll heal.”

  “Don’t play it off. Oh my god.” She tried to get a better look, but he held her to him instead. She could hear the pounding of his heart in the silence of the woods.

  What made him do it? Guilt for the past, a need to make things right? Whatever it was, she felt awful. She never wanted to see him hurt, especially not over her. There was plenty of pain going on in this world. What happened between the two of them didn’t need to add any more to it.

  She grabbed his face and held it between her palms. “Don’t ever do something so stupid again.”

  His eyes darkened with something that wrapped around her in a warm embrace. The corner of his mouth lifted in half-smile of understanding. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

  “I’ll worry if I want to.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but she covered it with her own.

  The feel of his lips forced a small moan from her throat, and he tightened his hold.

  She slid her mouth against the tempting fullness of his, relearning a terrain she’d known only too well so many years ago. His taste slammed her into a vault of memories, but with the potency of reality, the urgency of now.

  Pressing into him, she took the kiss further, needing to feel what it was like to be in his arms again. Arms that were so familiar yet so changed. There was a fullness, a thickness to his body now that delighted her senses, weakened her knees, and set off a flutter of awareness so deep, no one kiss would ever be enough.

  She skimmed the hard mounds of his shoulders and deep valleys and ridges of his back, an excitement of discovery fueling her curiosity.

  On a growl, he leaned back, taking her with him. She pressed her breasts against his chest, trying to ease her wanting, and dove even deeper into the ocean of the kiss.

  “Fuck, woman.” He grabbed her hips, holding her to him as he moved against her.

  Her tongue slid along his, and he groaned low in his chest. Emboldened, she stroked her tongue against his again and again. She bit his lip with a gentle tug, then soothed the area with the caress of her mouth desperate to taste him, as if she’d never have the chance again. “Jamie,” she whispered against his lips.

  “I’m here.” His voice rasped out as he caressed her sides until they found themselves tangled in her hair. The pins she’d used that morning to stack it high on her head fell to the dirt beside them and her hair tumbled about their faces.

  The large, fingers of one hand massaged her neck, while his other slid to the exposed skin along the seams of her overalls, making her body scream to be touched.

  A loud crack pierced through the sensual cloud of her brain, reminding her where they were and what they’d just encountered.

  She kissed his lips, then his face, easing back just a bit.

  His grip on her tightened. “Bean, wait.”

  She stared into his eyes, always amazed by the transparency she found there. “Thank you.” She kissed him. “Thank you for protecting me.”

  He pushed her dark hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Take it back,” he demanded, the timbre of his voice low.

  She stiffened. “What?”

  “Tell me we’re friends.” The need shining from his eyes was more than attraction, it was more than a casual encounter.

  Her head demanded she deny him, to protect herself. But her heart…her heart couldn’t beat so close to his and lie.

  “We’re friends,” she whispered, but moved away, brushing the pine needles and dirt from her overalls. Once she was a safe distance from him, she added. “But only friends.”

  His dipped his chin, but there was a stubborn glint in his eyes, and a fissure of excitement shot straight to her core. She’d almost forgotten how intoxicating it was to be wanted by this man.

  Hiccup.

  Chapter 8

  Blayne walked with Larkin and Claire along the boardwalk in front of the Van Buren Boat Club, breathing in the cool, salty breeze and admiring all the sailboats entered in the Van Buren Wave Races. Seagulls called from the water’s edge, swooping to the surface then sailing high in the sky, and she followed their route, jealous of their view. She hoped to run into Cape Van Buren’s very own life coach, Clay Parrington, and nail down an interview for a board position. Then the list she and Jamie created would be complete.

  “Look how vivid all the colors are.” She tilted her head to take in a particularly beautiful sail.

  The one-design boat race was more than how fast the boat was in the water, it was also based on the best sail artwork. The boat that won the race didn’t necessarily win the competition. It made the event very unpredictable and, sometimes, quite volatile. Especially when the North Cove Mavens and South Cover Madams were involved. Art was very subjective, and the feud between north and south unfailingly stubborn.

  Two years ago, a riot practically broke out between the North Cove Mavens and South Cove Madams over one particular boat. There was nothing scarier than a bunch of feisty AARP members battling it out with canes and swinging po
cketbooks.

  “The teal and fuchsia in this cobalt design are breathtaking.” She followed the line of a peacock on one sail. When the fabric was in full bloom, the peacock’s feathers spread in an amazing bouquet, and when it was folded, the peacock looked as though it peeked around the mast pole.

  Noticing how quiet her opinionated friends were, she turned around.

  Both Larkin and Claire stared at her with open mouths.

  “What?” She glanced about, trying to figure out what in the world was going on.

  Claire cocked her head. “Who the hell are you…?”

  “And what have you done with Blayne?” Larkin finished.

  Blayne chuckled, the feeling reverberating up her throat and across her chest. It felt good to laugh. “Are the two of you mad? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stepped close to Larkin and touched her arm. “You feeling okay?”

  Larkin sputtered. “Me?! You just used the words vivid and breathtaking. Blayne MacCaffrey doesn’t use words like vivid and breathtaking. You’re more of a ‘badass’ and ‘that’s the shit’ kind of gal. The only thing I’ve ever heard you be even close to poetic about is one of your roller derby jams.”

  “Jam? Who wants jam?” Evette Kingsley walked up, flanked by Maxine and Janice. Evette looked like Popeye’s wife Olive Oyl and grew the most amazing berries in the world. “I have a fresh batch ready to bring to your store.”

  “Better save me some,” Maxine piped up. She’d been using Evette’s berries and Janice’s flowers in her moonshine for years, and there was no getting the recipe out of her. It was hard enough to get any of her brew as it was—unless there was a good amount of cash involved.

  Blayne appreciated the interruption. Larkin and Claire’s assessment was disturbing. Why was she acting so sappy? Maybe it was surviving a moose encounter.

  Moose.

  Jamie.

  Oh no. The image of Jamie popped into her mind with his delicious mouth and to-die-for sexy shoulders. Her lips tingled along with the rest of her body. Shit. She had to rein in those betraying thoughts, and fast.

  But her heart had a mind of its own. She cared, and it scared the shit out of her.