by Meredith, MK
“Exactly,” Claire said, “I need to break out of this rut and how much safer can I get than with you? I mean the risk of either of us falling in love with each other is pretty much nil.”
The look on her face was sincere, and he’d damn well never let her know how much those words hurt, even if they were true. He was a safe bet. He didn't want to get entangled in a committed relationship any more than she did. So why in the hell was it so easy to picture seeing her face first thing every morning?
He cleared his throat. “Are you sure about this?”
She shoved up from the chair and shook out her hands. “Quit stalling, or I'm gonna chicken out. It's like ripping off a bandage. Let me get this first kiss out of the way and then maybe I can go out and be a normal adult on a date. Something's gotta give, or I'm going to get a reputation worse than Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride.”
His chuckle was low and strangled. “I feel like you might have a thing for Julia Roberts. How the hell did you pull that movie out of your ass?”
“She’s my fave. Chick flick nights with my mom,” she said as she placed his hands on her hips.
Warning bells clanged in his head as he gripped her waist.
Her fingers didn't know where to settle on his shoulders.
“Do you want me to put on a shirt?”
Her eyes devoured his chest as she darted the tip of her pink tongue out to lick her lips, almost undoing his tenuous hold on his self-control. Clamping down on his need to yank her up against him, he gently pulled her closer.
“I'm sure,” she said, adding with a bit of sarcasm. “And no, I'm a big girl. I think I can handle Mitch Brennan without his shirt on.”
He flashed a cocky grin. “We’ll see.”
Holding her gaze, he slowly dipped his head to hover his lips just above hers. Tension played tug-of-war between them, and his blood rushed through his veins in eager anticipation. A little closer.
Closer.
His lips tingled with the hint of moisture from her soft breath.
Just as his lips were about to brush hers, she burst out laughing and dropped her forehead to his chest.
He froze. What the hell just happened? With his hands on her shoulders, he slowly eased back to look into her eyes. “Is everything okay?” He wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or concerned.
“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry. I don't know why I’m laughing.” Her cheeks blushed red, and the mortification in her eyes eased the sting of her laugh.
There was nothing like a woman laughing in his face just before kissing him to remove the discomfort of an erection. As his body cooled, he muttered, “We don't have to do this, Claire.”
“No, no, I want to. I don't know what's wrong with me.” She shook out her hands. “Okay, okay. Let's try again.”
Her fingertips slid across his chest, leaving a trail of sensation behind them. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he closed the distance between their mouths once more.
Her sharp crack of laughter made him jump, and he released her. Confusion didn't even begin to describe the emotions running rampant through him. The moment was a physical rollercoaster with the drop and climb of a big hill ride.
“So sorry!” she exclaimed, her cheeks a deep red as if she’d just stepped in from too long in the sun. “What is wrong with me? Oh, my God. I'm such a mess.” She moved back in. “Just kiss me. Don't make it soft, don't make it sweet.”
He drew her up against his chest and, at the last minute, her cackling laugh filled his head. This time he joined her himself. He didn't have to imagine how mortified she was because he could read it all over her face. She really wasn’t ready, and that was okay.
The damn kiss was for her, not him, anyway.
“It’s okay, Claire.”
“God damn it!” She swore. “I can't believe this.”
She stared at him a moment as if having a silent argument behind the scenes, then with a sudden steely gleam in her eye, she slid her fingers into his hair and yanked him forward, slamming her lips against his. His dick jumped to life with demand on contact, and his heart joined in, hammering in his chest. She tasted like his favorite kind of sin. Every decadent treat he’d ever tasted, all rolled into one solid punch.
Indulgent, heady, the kind you couldn't think through but could only feel.
With a soft moan, she eased her hold and slid her lips against his, exploring each edge with her own. Her tongue took a tentative sweep of his mouth, and he dove in after her, prepared to drown and not caring if he ever breathed again.
He knew her taste would be sweet, but he never imagined it would create an instant addiction. Though this kiss might allow her to open up to the world, it left him completely and royally fucked.
He held himself in check as she ran her hands over his shoulders, gripping his biceps. It was everything he could do not to push his straining erection hard against her stomach to help ease the urgency there. She swept her tongue along his lower lip, following it with a gentle bite. Then with a whimper, melted in for more.
That soft, helpless sound was his undoing. On a growl of his own, he swept her up into his arms, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist. Gripping the back of her head with his hand, he held her still while he took his turn exploring and tasting, wanting to drown in the flavor that was uniquely and deliciously Claire.
She clung to him, kissing him back as passionately as any wet dream he'd ever had. The scent of her enveloped his head, the taste of her filled his mouth, the feel of her in his arms left him wanting more.
More of something he could never really have.
Somewhere deep in his soul, he found the strength to ease back, breaking away from the urgency of the kiss with smaller, gentler pecks until he was able to look into her eyes. She'd already faced so much pain, and the last thing he wanted to do was inflict any more.
This wicked intelligent, generous and soft-hearted woman who had so much love and passion tied up within her heart had found a way past his defenses.
But she deserved more than a memorable moment.
He had to stay her safe bet.
He had to be the one man who would never hurt her.
And it would be the hardest damn thing he'd ever done in his life.
She whispered, “What just happened?”
Forcing his tone to be light and playful cost him dearly. “I think we ripped your Band-Aid off.”
Chapter 9
I think I can handle Mitch Brennan without his shirt on.
Famous.
Last.
Words.
Claire followed the path that ran the length of the Cape house lawn and disappeared into the woods. It was cool but not cold, the mid-September sun still able to lend warmth to the salty breeze coming in from the Atlantic.
As she stepped into the foliage, a hush fell like a gossamer veil all around her; muffling the cold, stark reality of every day. The woods on the cape were such a magical place that she could forget for a moment that sad things were even possible.
She loved to follow the path set up for trails and tours and collect herself. The first stop was a bench surrounded by hummingbird feeders and one of the many informative posts she had designed that now resided in different areas around the cape. It humbled her to be trusted to give an experience to visitors through her artwork that would stay with them even once they left.
Running her fingers along the words recessed in the plaque, she mirrored the action along her lips.
That kiss.
She couldn't get the thought of it out of her mind or the taste of him off her tongue. She could smell him and taste him and feel him like the kiss were but a moment ago. She never expected to be so strongly affected by someone's touch.
With a chuckle, she shook her head. Mortification didn’t even begin to explain how she felt when she’d kept laughing. If she was honest with herself, she wanted that kiss, but every time he dipped his head she remembered that the last man she had kissed was Jimmy and a
weird, awkward hilarity rushed through her.
It was ridiculous and sad all at the same time, and she didn't know how to make it stop. But then when he stepped away and offered to forget the whole idea, an urgency—almost desperation—to move on swept through her.
And she'd thrown herself at him.
Her only saving grace was no one had witnessed the whole debacle, and for some reason, she trusted that Mitch would never tell a soul.
Moving along the trail, she took in the large knotted pines and moss-covered boulders. The hive just across the clearing produced a low buzz in the quiet. Ryker had once talked about how they would be settling in for the winter—much like most of Maine.
She gently slid her hand over the rock, loving the spongy velvet of Mother Nature’s green carpet against her palm. How many dreams were woven in this place? How many plans were made? How many hearts broken? There was no telling on a land that had been home to generations of families.
“There you are! Why are we meeting out here?” Blayne ducked through the trees from the yard, looking like a nineteen-twenties pin-up model with her black hair wrapped in a red polka-dot ribbon atop her head and her lips a matching shade. But there was no mistaking the Maine-girl deep inside with her L.L. Bean jacket and work boots. Ireland may have made her, but Maine raised her.
With a grin, Claire waved. “I wanted to pull together the rest of our plans for the Cape Van Buren Fall Art Festival. I have a few ideas for centerpieces using some of earth's gifts.” She picked up a pine cone, tossing it toward her friend. There was no way in hell she was admitting that she couldn't quite face Mitch this morning and hiding in the woods was better than risking a run-in at the house.
“Who else is joining us?” Blayne caught the pine cone, then studied it with intense curiosity. “I can work with this.”
Claire's heart raced in her chest as she answered. “Larkin, Maxine. The usual crew. And I may have invited the judge.”
“What? Are you crazy?” The look on Blayne's face would have been comical if Claire didn't understand her panic. Inviting the judge had been a risky move. Maxine was not one to be trifled with and, at the same time, never hesitated to share her opinion on anyone else's life, grandmothering anyone who stepped foot in Cape Van Buren.
Ever since the blow up before the gala earlier in the year, she and the judge had not spoken. But theirs was a love match too sweet to die forever. “You know we have to do something.” She stepped to Blayne’s side. “But what?”
Her friend cursed in Gaelic. “The judge called her out in front of everyone. You know Maxine.”
“I know. But...”
“But we both see that she’s miserable underneath her fake facade of a carefree lady out on the town. She misses the damn man just as much as he misses her.” Blayne played with the cuff on her jacket. “Does Larkin know?”
“No, I was afraid she would feel obligated to tell Maxine.”
“Smart girl,” Blayne said.
Claire stared at her. If she knew the truth, she’d never call her smart. “I kissed Mitch.” She blurted out the confession, then covered her mouth with her hand.
Her friend’s crystal-green eyes went wide, staring back as if Claire had a unicorn horn growing from her forehead.
Just then the judge tucked his head through the foliage path with a wary look. “This is all a little mysterious, Miss Adams.” Teddy Carter tugged at the hem of his jacket as he joined them. “What's this all about?”
Claire smiled, hoping it came across more welcoming than a warning to run and hide. “We’re finishing up the details for the fall art festival, and as the chairman of the events committee, we needed to get your final approval. I thought it was easiest if you just saw our plan.”
Teddy raised his brows. “Surely you could have just brought me samples to the courthouse. I'm a busy man, young lady.”
Didn't she know it. It took five different excuses to get the judge to meet her out there in the first place. If they didn't get him and Maxine talking again, they would lose their chance to bring them back together forever.
“I understand, Judge Carter, and I appreciate you stepping out. But as you can imagine, I didn't want to start collecting any materials unless you approved. No reason to disturb the cape if we don't have your okay to do so.”
He nodded, considering the view around him. “Such a beautiful place out here. I can't tell you how happy I was when Larkin talked Ryker into conserving this beautiful place and turning it all into a community center.”
“Sure.” A voice interrupted from the path, and he swung around.
Maxine walked up with Larkin by her side. “I imagine in mixed company you'd like to take credit for it all, too. Throw your weight around a little bit, Mr. Judge-on-the-town.”
“Now, Maxine...” Claire said softly.
“Did you do this?” Maxine threw daggers with a bulls-eye precision and jerked her thumb toward the man who broke her heart.
“We need to get past this, Maxine. I know you've been miserable.”
Maxine straightened her shoulders with her lips set in a very thin line.
Blayne whispered under her breath. “You did not just admit she’s miserable in front of the judge. You aren't getting any moonshine for the rest of your life.”
Claire elbowed her in the side. “Look, today's meeting is about the fall art festival, not whatever is going on between you two,” Claire said with determination. She hoped her matter-of-fact, logical declaration would make them both look past her manipulation. “Anyway, the reason I had you guys come out here is I think this would be a perfect spot for the festival this year.
The judge shook his head. “We've always done it at the Fountain of Youth.
Claire nodded. “We have, but the wind tends to pick up as we get into September and this area is more protected. It's calmer here, slightly warmer. All the trees block the sea breeze. This would be a perfect place, and we could play off the magic in here starting with a really cool archway at the path opening. Kind of transporting the visitors into a world of magic.
“We could have Ryker sell some of the Cape honey over by the bees, which would also serve to protect that area. There is a small clearing with a hole in the tree canopy that offers a lot of light to display different vendors’ art.”
Blayne piped up. “I know that Ryker and Jamie had a great climbing tree. We could see if the local climbing chapter would want to set up bungees and have an activity area for the kids.”
“That's a great idea,” Larkin said softly. “I know Archer would have loved something like that.”
Maxine nodded, pretending not to glance at Teddy every five seconds. Claire’s heart squeezed with love for the woman. Deep down, she was like the rest of them. Falling in love, but afraid of getting hurt.
At least Larkin and Blayne, she quickly amended.
Teddy looked around, nodding. “I like where you're going with this. But we’d have some liability issues.”
“That could be sorted out with liability waivers that everyone signs upon entering.” Blayne offered. “We could even have a spot online to make it easy from the beginning.”
Claire imagined it all coming together, and her heart swelled in her chest, but she wasn’t a dummy. She had to find a foolproof way to make sure Maxine forgave her for meddling. “I thought it could be fun to do kind of a mock kissing booth. Everyone could pay to give Maxine a kiss on the cheek in hopes of a sip of her moonshine.”
The judge grumbled. “Maxine and her moonshine.”
“Yeah,” Larkin said. “But it is the finest kind.”
“Well, I know I love that idea.” Maxine challenged, eyeing the judge with a cold, hard stare.
Blayne wiggled her brows. “Now that Claire’s inspired by kissing Mitch, of course, there must be a kissing booth.”
Claire wanted to kick her traitorous friend in the shin, but it would be too obvious. “This has nothing to do with Mitch.”
The judge raised a brow. “Mi
tch Brennan? I have to say I'm surprised. Do you really think that's a good idea, Claire? You’ve had a rough time with it, and well, I love the boy, but...”
The judge's tone came across in a fatherly way, but she found it offensive nonetheless. Raising her hand, she stopped him. “Mitch is a lot more than he puts on. He’s responsible, he cares. He actually views the world and the Cape in a very different way than you give him credit for. He wants to make a difference. If any of you would let him, he would.”
She didn’t know that her voice was rising until she quit talking, but she felt the rush of anger heating her cheeks. “Anyway,” she went on, ignoring all the stares, “I thought the money raised could go to a monthly drawing where we treat a couple around town to a date night out. We could get sponsors from the different restaurants to help with special deals and discounts. But I think it would be a cool way for the Cape Center to encourage the marriages of Cape Van Buren to continue to grow stronger.”
Maxine smiled. “Now that is a lovely idea. You have to admit it, Teddy.”
Teddy looked at Maxine like a parched man faced with the ocean. Everything he could ever want but completely unattainable. “Listen, Maxine...I really feel like we need to talk.”
She waved her hands. “Is this meeting over Claire? I have to get back to work, and Mitch was looking for you.”
Claire's heart squeezed at the forlorn look on Judge Teddy's face.
“Yes. I just wanted you guys to really see my vision.”
The judge nodded. “I really do like it.”
“Well, if that's all,” Maxine said as she made her way toward the opening in the trees. “Teddy,” she called over her shoulder, “meet me at the Flat Iron Saturday morning. Eight sharp. Don't be late.” And then she was gone.
Ignoring the looks that Blayne and Larkin exchanged, Claire busied herself by collecting a few more pine cones. They were going to have a lot of questions about that kiss later. Maybe if she could just prevent them from getting her alone.
Gah! When did she become such a coward?
They all watched the judge’s expression. “Are you okay?” Blayne asked.