One Distant Summer

by Serena Clarke

  His long, elegant fingers were playing across her skin, leaving a trail of blazing sensation. His lips followed, stoking the fires, and she held her breath as he went lower, nearer, closer…and then he was between her legs again, his mouth working the same perfect, dirty magic. As she breathed faster, her body given over to wanton heat and craving, he slipped his fingers inside her, and she moved involuntarily against his hand, matching his rhythm, feeling the rise of something deep and desperate.

  “Oh, God,” she ground out, not wanting him to stop, but wanting something else even more. She pulled at his arms, wrapping her legs around him and urging him up. “I want…I…”

  He pulled away and dragged open the nightstand drawer, and reached in for a condom. With lightning speed, he had it unwrapped and on, and was back in the exact same spot, oh so ready.

  “I like your style,” she teased.

  But he didn’t laugh, or shoot back a smart retort. Instead, he looked right at her, straight and level. “I like you.”

  In that moment, with the afternoon sun lighting the room, his words counted for more than any grand declaration of love. Something shifted in her heart…a crack in the ice, or the break of a wave. Just like he’d seen her, she saw him too—a decent man watching the world move on while he carried his painful past with whatever grace he could. Sometimes struggling, sometimes failing. She didn’t know if what they were doing counted as a failure, but she wanted to give him something to hold on to. Wanted to be the one he could escape to.

  “I like you too,” she whispered. Because she did.

  At that, he kissed her, gently at first, then growing more insistent, and she parted her own lips, their mutual confession igniting the kiss into something inflammatory and revealing, any last reticence or resistance gone up in flames. She tangled her legs in his, grinding close, acutely aware of the heat of his tongue, and his rock hard desire against her. She shifted and twisted, hungry for the one thing she needed right now, angling closer to the exact right position to take, and give, what she wanted so badly.

  But then he paused, unbearably near and yet so far away. “Seems like maybe we’re not finished after all.”

  She writhed underneath him, trying, trying, trying to get nearer. “Cancel what I just said. I don’t like you at all.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, obviously.” Then, very slowly, he slid inside her, so easily, but just a little, just enough to bring a moan of pleasure and frustration from her mouth. She lifted her hips, only wanting more of him, overflowing with need and lust and not caring that he knew it.

  “Like me yet?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied, arching beneath him, forgetting everything but his body under her hands and the desperate need to have him inside her. “Yes.”

  The word came out half plea, half demand, and he relented, sinking into her, finally filling her completely, and her head tipped back as sensation overwhelmed her. All the longing and teasing collided in a rush of urgent, ravenous heat, and instantly they were moving together, their rhythm rapidly becoming faster, deeper, more determined. A tiny corner of her brain knew she should slow down, that it would be over too soon, but her body had its own momentum, in tune with his, and there was no putting the brakes on now. She gave in to her own impulses, and his, abandoning any last thought or reasoning, letting them both ride the irresistible, exhilarating wave. Finally, with one last thrust, he came apart, and she felt herself tip over the edge along with him, pulsing around him, the stars bright behind her eyelids, only half hearing the raw, incoherent sounds coming from her own mouth, and from his too.

  When they finally came down, back to a blurry, smoldering reality, she was only aware of how tightly they were holding each other, of their hot, damp skin, and the occasional jolt where they were still joined. If the world could be condensed to just this, it would be enough. She closed her eyes again, burying her face in the side of his neck, where his pulse was still pounding. But then he raised himself off her a little, and they looked at each other. And in his eyes, she saw the bare emotion of the moment—his undisguised need and turmoil, and something that looked so real and heartfelt, her own heart tilted in her chest. He touched her cheek, her nose, her lips, as though he was committing every inch of her face to memory, then kissed her fiercely. And she kissed him back.

  It was sexy, and strange, and sweet. Never in all these years had she expected to be in this situation with him. Never even thought about it. But now that she was…she liked it. A lot.

  “You’re not so bad, Liam Ward,” she told him, faking a surprised voice, her blood still rushing in her veins. “Not. So. Bad.”

  But instead of coming back with a smart reply, or a compliment in return, he froze.

  “Not so bad,” he repeated, his voice strangely dull, considering what they’d just done.

  She dropped the act, a twist of foreboding starting in her belly. “That’s what I said.”

  But he suddenly rolled off her and pulled away, putting space between them. She raised herself on one elbow, trying to catch his eye, but he wouldn’t look at her as he went over to the trash can, then came back. As he pounded his pillow into shape and lay down, she only just heard him mutter, “Except I am.”

  Surely he wasn’t serious. “Well then, we must both be,” she replied, the twist turning into a knot.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Because we shouldn’t be here.”

  No. Not this. She felt rebellion rise from somewhere. “Can’t we try to be happy?” She nudged him. “Don’t we deserve that?”

  He didn’t say anything, and she felt anger creeping in. No way was she letting him back out on her again without explanation. They’d had a glimpse of something hopeful, and all she wanted was to cling onto it, like a life preserver in a wide, stormy sea. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, be one of his failures.

  “Even if we don’t deserve it, we have to decide,” she said. “Either we’re doing this, or we’re not.” The words were a gamble she had to take.

  But he stared at her in the shuttered light, his eyes so deep blue they were almost black. “We’d better not then.”

  She tried to breathe away the jagged feeling in her ribcage. “If you want it that way.”

  It was time to go. She couldn’t bear to get all attached like this, and then have him pull out with an attack of the guilts. She was only just keeping her own under control. And she couldn’t go any further down this path, and then lose him. Those depths of his were turning out to be over her head. She started to search around under the blanket for her bikini.

  But he took hold of her chin, making her look at him. “I don’t want it that way,” he said.

  His voice was hard and sharp, the sound of someone who’d been through hell and hadn’t yet made it out the other side. But the words made a foolish hope flicker in her heart.

  “What do you want then?” she asked sharply. “Because until today, it seemed like I was the last thing you wanted, even when you had me.”

  One corner of his mouth twisted upward, in a dark half-smile, and he shook his head. “Do you know why I didn’t go looking for Ethan?”

  “You said your dad wanted you to wait for him at home.”

  “He was wrong. I could have gone. I should have. But I didn’t, because…” He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the pain she saw in them made her heart twist. “Because I was secretly pleased you’d left him. Because I was jealous.” He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Because…I was in love with you.”

  She could hardly drag in a breath. He’d already confessed to wanting her, but love? She’d always known that Ethan hadn’t felt that way—and she’d never lamented the absence of the ‘L’ word, because it was obvious from the start. They’d been a fling. A summer fling, on the edge of adulthood. Love hadn’t come into it.

  She looked at Liam. He was still staring upward, his jaw tense, his brows darkening his face. “If I hadn’t been so fucking wrapped up i
n myself, so wrapped up in my brother’s girlfriend...” He stopped, then blew out a breath. “He’d still be alive.”

  Her chest was one giant knot of conflicting emotions. “You were in love with me?”

  He passed a hand over his face. “Yes,” he said, in a resigned voice.

  She didn’t even know where to start processing what he’d said. Because of his feelings for her, he hadn’t gone looking for Ethan until it was too late. He was still carrying the blame for his brother’s death, and guilt about his feelings for her. All of it still real and raw.

  And he’d been in love with her.

  “Ethan was never in love with me,” she said. “He was only playing around.”

  At her words, Liam flinched. She knew it was all kinds of weird to be talking about his brother like this, when they were in bed together, after everything they’d done. But she had to say it.

  “If it hadn’t been for the baby, it all would’ve been so simple. Ethan would have gone to university in Sydney, and I guess I would have missed him for a while. But I would have stayed and finished school on the Other Side, and then gone home to the States again. And we both would’ve moved on.”

  “But that wasn’t what happened,” he said, his voice flat.

  “No. But it’s not your fault.” She wanted to shake him. “You can’t spend your life second-guessing and blaming yourself.”

  “Yeah, sounds easy when you say it,” he said, the bitterness obvious in his voice. “Try living it for a while. For ten years.”

  She let the barbs lie where they fell. “I can see why you’d hate me now.” She paused for a minute, figuring out exactly what she wanted to say. “I’ll walk away if that’s the right thing to do. But even without me in the picture…Ethan wouldn’t want you to live like this.”

  At that, he exhaled a heavy breath. “Ah, fuck.” He blinked, and pressed a hand to his forehead. “I don’t hate you.”

  “Sometimes it seems like you do.” She frowned. “And then you have a temporary change of heart.”

  He rolled toward her and took her face in his hands, threading his fingers in her hair. The intensity she saw in the deep blue of his eyes sent a shiver down her back.

  “Just before,” he said, in a low voice. “You asked what I want.”

  She nodded. “Do you even know?”

  “I do.” His gaze didn’t waver as he answered. “I want to know if we can make it okay for us, too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jacinda let herself in the front door, hoping no one was home, and she could sneak upstairs and have a shower. But the minute she closed the door behind her, she heard Danielle call her name.

  She went into the living room. Danielle and Riley were sitting on the floor, each holding a kitten. The two of them looked up when she came in, and their faces said it all. She was busted.

  She played innocent anyway. “Oh, hi Riley.”

  “Don’t ‘hi’ me,” she replied, grinning. “Where have you been?”

  She tried to smooth her hair. “Uh…I was helping Liam with…a project.”

  “Would you care to tell us about this impromptu ‘project’?” Riley asked, making air quotes. “Does it involve biology? Human anatomy?”

  Jacinda made a face. “You know I’m pleading the fifth, with a child in the house.” Then she looked around. “Where’s Sam?”

  “Still at his play date,” Danielle said. “They asked him to stay for dinner. So, back to your project…”

  “Was it a big project?” Riley asked, holding her hands apart, and she and Danielle giggled like schoolgirls.

  “Very funny, you two.” She dropped her beach bag on the floor and sank into the wingback chair.

  “I knew it wasn’t a one-off,” Riley said, her voice rich with smug satisfaction. “I knew it.”

  Jacinda looked at Danielle. “I suppose Riley told you what happened with him before.”

  “Yes. But even if she hadn’t, your little moment in the ocean was a pretty gigantic clue. I might have been distracted by my job news, but I’m not blind. Why did you let me go on about him before, if you’ve got a thing happening?”

  She shrugged. “Because we don’t have a thing happening.” Apart from the thing they did in his kitchen. And the things they did upstairs. And all the other things they did before that…

  “Well, you should,” Danielle said. “He’s all kinds of hot.”

  She shook her head, but her mind was still reeling after his crisis and confession. Could they make something work between them? It was such a huge leap from the place they were when she arrived—two people divided by blame and remorse and regret, a rift that seemed wider than the ocean between their countries. And his long-held guilt had burrowed down into him, creating a barrier that would take more than one conversation to break down.

  She’d had no answer to his question, beyond ‘maybe’. Because so much of it was up to him, and the ghosts of the past. And in truth, she was afraid that if she let herself get closer, he’d pivot again, leaving her adrift. So she’d left him there, not running out in the dark, but with a goodbye, and kisses, and the excuse that she’d promised to make dinner for Danielle and Sam tonight…along with the truth that she just needed some space to think.

  “We can’t really,” she said now, in answer to her cousin. “I mean, we shouldn’t, but…”

  “Why not?” Danielle asked, reminding Jacinda that she didn’t know anything about what had happened here that long-ago summer.

  But before she could say anything, Riley spoke up.

  “Seriously, you two should give it a shot. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  “If it’s anything like the way he was looking at her today, I agree,” Danielle said.

  Jacinda scooped up the black girl kitten, Suede, and cuddled her close. The little creature immediately nestled into her neck, purring. Despite her small size, the sound was loud in Jacinda’s ear, and comforting.

  She looked at the two women in front of her. Now they both knew about her ‘thing’ with Liam, whatever the hell it was. Or wasn’t. Or could be. Meanwhile, Danielle knew about her career as Cin Scott, but not about her history with Ethan. And Riley knew about the history with Ethan, but not about Cin. And neither of them knew about the baby, who had thrown everything into chaos and then disappeared, leaving Jacinda half heartbroken, half relieved, and entirely messed up. Suddenly, she felt exhausted, carrying her secrets around. Did she really need to hide anything from these women?

  “I’ll tell you why not,” she said to Danielle. “Because one summer, years ago…I was involved with his brother Ethan.”

  Danielle pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Hmm. I guess that would be a bit awkward. But hasn’t the brother met someone else by now?”

  “No…”

  “Really? Well, ancient history and all that.” Then she looked from Riley to Jacinda, obviously realizing they both knew something she didn’t. “Don’t say he’s still in love with you, or something.”

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that. He’s actually…” The word stuck in her throat. It was so blunt. So final. “He’s dead.”

  Danielle gasped. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. Were you seeing each other when it happened?”

  “Uh…not really.”

  She looked at Riley, who nodded encouragement. But what would she think once she knew the whole story?

  “It was after Jacinda left,” Riley told Danielle. “And no one even knows how it happened. He was like the star of our town, everyone loved him. He was one of those guys, you know—talented and smart and super handsome. The whole package.”

  The guilt clenched around Jacinda’s heart again. She hadn’t only taken him away from his family—the whole town had lost a shining star.

  Danielle shook her head. “How awful.”

  “Yeah.” Riley paused for a moment. “Although…not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but he did have a massive ego.” Then she winced. “Sorry, Jacinda.”


  Jacinda waved a hand. “That’s okay.” But Riley’s words had taken her by surprise—that was the first time she’d heard anyone say something less than glowing about Ethan. “I know he wasn’t perfect. None of us are,” she added.

  “So…you broke up before it happened?” Danielle asked.

  ‘Broke up’ wasn’t exactly the way to describe it. Or maybe it was. “I had just gone back to the States. I didn’t even know he’d died until I came back this time.”

  “No one told you? Not even Nana Mac?”

  “No one. I wasn’t in touch with anyone else, so…”

  “Bloody hell, that must have been a shock.”

  Jacinda looked at Riley, who sent back a sympathetic look. “Yeah.”

  Danielle frowned. “But…why does that mean you and Liam can’t be together? I mean, I can see it might feel weird at first, but there’d be nothing wrong with it, really.”

  “She’s right, you know,” Riley chimed in.

  Jacinda stroked Suede, her mind working overtime. If the Wards had kept the secret all this time, did she have the right to break it? And did she have the stomach to tell her own secret? People already seemed to think she had caused Ethan’s death—maybe Riley and Danielle would hear the full details of what happened, and be convinced of it.

  Or maybe not.

  Either way, the need to talk about it was too great to resist.

  “You know how I said it was a bit more complicated?” she said. “This is why.”

  As they listened, she told them the story, starting with the romance between her and Ethan, for Danielle’s sake. Then the pregnancy test. Then the anxious, uncertain moment she told Ethan the news, and his whiplash reaction. Her decision to go home to her mom—even though her mom had problems of her own—and the loss of the baby. And finally, her return to the bay, and Liam’s heartbreaking revelations. Listening to the story of him finding Ethan’s body, bearing his brother home through the water, their faces were pale with shock.

  “That must have been horrific.” Riley wiped an eye with the side of her hand. “No wonder he seems kind of…dark.”