by Hughes, Maya
“Do you want to get some funnel cake?” Emmett’s words were like music to my ears.
“I swear, you’ve implanted a chip in my head, haven’t you?”
“If I did, I’d know all your secrets, but no, I didn’t. I felt your stomach rumble under my hands, and I smelled the funnel cake from up there too.” He kissed my cheek.
Secrets…so many left to tell.
“We’re going to get some funnel cake,” he shouted back to everyone on our blankets. They waved us off and said to bring them some back. Like the snack would ever survive the trip. I was pretty sure I could eat my body weight in funnel cake, or at least I was determined to try.
The fireworks ended as we got to the boardwalk and people started leaving in droves, which meant no lines.
“I’ll have extra powdered sugar, please.” I leaned on the metal counter at the window of the shop, watching them prep my dessert.
“We already put extra.” The teenager behind the window acted like he got a bonus for the amount they had left at the end of the night.
“Just a little bit more.” I pinched my fingers almost closed, and Emmett laughed behind me. “Listen, Chuckles, I’m trying to make sure we’re not locked in a cage match for the last of the powdered sugar like last time.”
“I still can’t believe you twisted my nipple.” He rubbed his hand along his chest. And what a chest it was.
“All’s fair in love and funnel cake.”
His eyes got wide when the L-word left my lips. I whipped back around, facing the counter.
“Is this enough, ma’am?” A mountain of powdered sugar greeted me. It was enough to distract me from the ‘ma’am’ comment and my love slipup. “Perfect.”
“Want to eat that on the Ferris wheel?” Emmett’s dark intentions sent a shiver down my spine, but this was serious business.
“Oh no you don’t.” I warded him off, glancing behind me to make sure I didn’t trip and spill the spiraled dough of deliciousness. We found a bench and sat watching the late evening crowd enjoying the night.
The air changed and the humidity rose, which meant the sugar clumped together, which was a win for me.
“You’re going to turn into a funnel cake at this rate.” He gingerly removed a piece under my watchful eye.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then you could eat me up.” I sucked my sweetly coated thumb.
“You don’t have to be funnel cake for that.” He leaned in and planted a kiss on the curve of my neck.
My cheeks heated. I’d stopped feeling the slightest bit of embarrassment when Declan and Mak’s bedroom antics had become gossip fodder the previous day.
“But I do plan on eating you until you scream tonight, until you cream in my mouth so hard you can’t even walk, and then I’ll push you up against the window. You love the way that glass feels behind the curtains, don’t you?”
My nipples got hard as the vision of the last time popped into my head. I’d checked to see if anyone had overheard. Apparently, I was a faux exhibitionist. I loved the idea that someone was looking, but I’d freak out if they actually did. The windowsill had become our new favorite foreplay spot.
We’d probably have some money taken out of the deposit to refinish the wood since my nail grooves covered the entire thing. I had to hold on for dear life as Emmett slowly teased me with his mouth before sinking into me with thrusts so hard and deep, I could barely breathe—suffocation by sexing. Something about the cold glass and being perched there, nearly off balance drove me crazy.
“Maybe a little bit. Are you ready to go back to the house?” I peered up at him. The fire in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.
We’d made it five steps off the boardwalk when the first droplet hit my cheek. I tilted my head, staring up into the sky. It was like the heavens decided to dump a bucket of water on us as a joke. Screaming, I ran for the closest cover I could find. We hid under the pier, but the gaps in the boards above meant the cold water still rained down on us.
“Holy crap, it’s really coming down.” Emmett shook his head, spraying water everywhere.
“You’re getting it all over me.” I pushed against his chest, laughing.
“It’s not like we’re not already soaked.”
“What do we do now?” I held out my hand and the stinging, pelting rain hit my palm. “I don’t even want to think about what’s dripping down on us from up there.” I grinned at Emmett. The lights from above sent streaks of light across his face, and drops of rain clung to his full eyelashes. It was nature’s practical joke that guys always ended up with the killer eyelashes.
He grinned right back and pressed my back against one of the columns supporting the pier. There was a low rumble in the distance that made my muscles tense. Please don’t let there be a thunderstorm. Summer was always the worst. Cold fronts colliding with the warm summer air was the perfect recipe for them.
“I can think of a way to distract you.” Mischief glinted in his eyes.
My gaze dropped to his lips, so full and soft but strong enough to coax a heady mixture of emotions out of my body.
I tried to put the storm out of my mind. We were safe under there, and a storm so unexpected couldn’t last long or be serious; it would have been on the forecast for ages if it were. Pushing those old memories aside, I focused on the man in front of me.
“I’m sure you can.” I tugged him closer by his shirt, and he blanketed me with his weight under the combined spray of the high tide and rain.
The throaty groans were ripped from my lips as his fingers dipped under the hem of his sweatshirt and caressed my skin. It had been nearly three hours since he’d touched me like that—far too long.
His lips were their own personal hypnosis device. Each swipe of his tongue sent my pulse spiking and my body humming. This rain needed to end so we could get back to our bed. Such a strange thought—our anything—but I liked it.
The distant rumble turned into a sharp crack, and he broke away when my hand tightened its grip on his shirt. “Let’s get back to the house.”
I brushed back the wet locks from his face and nodded.
We climbed up from the side of the sand dunes along the edge of the beach. Grabbing on to the steps to the boardwalk and Emmett’s hand, I used them to hoist myself over the small dune that was the quickest way to get to the road, away from the sinking wet sand we were currently on.
I glanced over my shoulder at the black clouds rolling in, and a flash of bright yellow caught my eye—a figure sitting on the wide railing over the edge of the water, huddled on the end of the pier, her light, almost white hair registering in my mind. Imogen. Her hair was plastered to her back and her rounded shoulders radiated pain, even from that far away.
I rushed toward her without thinking, the threatening lightning and thunder suddenly not fazing me. Emmett’s heavy footfalls thudded behind me.
“Em, go get someone from the restaurant, or get one of the guys or Mak,” I shouted, and he hesitated a bit. “Go! Now!”
His lips flattened in a thin line then he spun on his heel and rushed off.
I whipped back around, the hammering in my chest having nothing to do with the storm. Water poured down my face. Every time we’d been into the restaurant, she’d seemed okay. She’d even come to the house a couple of times to hang out, but every time I’d seen the sadness behind the smiles and hugs.
I couldn’t even imagine what she was going through. Shielding my eyes from the pelting rain, I raced over but stopped a second before I got to her, not wanting to scare her and make her fall.
“Imogen.”
She didn’t move, just stared out at the churning water below. I leaned farther out, my fingers pressing into the weathered wood, trying to catch her eye.
Her hands were wrapped around the railing, the muscles in her arms straining like she was preparing for a sudden movement. My hands shot out and clamped on to her shoulder and her waist.
“Imogen.” I spoke loudly but gen
tly. Water soaked through my clothes and my jeans stuck to my skin.
Like a statue unfrozen, her gaze flew to mine. Slowly, it sank in that she wasn’t alone. Even in this downpour, the water on her face wasn’t only rain. Her red-rimmed eyes flickered with recognition and she relaxed back down on the railing, butt firmly on the wood, not raised up anymore. Her half-apron was still around her waist.
“Avery?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, Avery. It’s raining, Imo.” I used the name everyone else had called her. That was what she needed right then—a friendly face.
She glanced up like she’d just realized we were in the middle of a downpour, blinking quickly as we were pelted with stinging rain. Thankfully, the rumbling had died down. Her back straightened and she looked down at herself, at the water plastering her clothes to her body.
“Maybe we should get inside.” I dropped my hand from her shoulder to her arm to help her as she turned around on the waist-high railing.
“You’re soaked.” She slid down and planted both feet firmly on the ground.
“You’re not exactly hiking through the desert yourself.” I lifted the side of my mouth in a half-smile.
Glancing down, she held her hands out like she’d only just realized she’d been sitting out in the middle of a storm. Our feet thudded upon the boardwalk as we raced for cover, not that it mattered at that point, though it would have been easier to talk if we weren’t being drowned standing up. We stepped under the awning of the restaurant.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She stared out at the crashing waves beyond the safety of the wooden walkway. “Sometimes I come out here to think after we close up.”
“I know you don’t know me that well, but you can talk to me whenever, and I know all the guys and Mak are also up for talking whenever you want.”
She shook her head. Droplets of water went flying. “No, I don’t want to make this harder for anyone else.” We turned our heads at the rushing footsteps rounding the corner of the restaurant.
“Imogen, are you okay?” An older woman came up and wrapped her arms around her.
There was a crush of people around us with jackets and umbrellas.
I turned around and she transformed in front of my eyes. The slump in her shoulders disappeared, the raw pain and sadness washing away when someone handed her a towel to dry her face and hair.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Her smile was so good it almost had me fooled; then again, I was used to bluffing about everything being normal when inside I was an emotional wreck. “I got caught in the storm. I thought I had time to run down and get some saltwater taffy before it hit, but I didn’t.” She laughed and shrugged. “No big deal. Sorry if I worried anyone.” Her voice was so sunny, it threatened to break up the rain clouds currently dumping on us. “Since you’re all here, does anyone want some ice cream?” She hurried inside before any more questions could be asked.
Emmett weaved his fingers between mine. “Is she going to be okay?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
23
Emmett
Avery had been quiet since we left the Surf Shack. Her hands ran along my chest, stroking me absently while we watched a movie. Everyone else had gone to bed, stuffed with ice cream and brownies. The whole house smelled like chocolate and happiness, the kind only sundaes and friends could create.
It was the kind I’d experienced only in short bursts with Avery or the guys, but never with the people I should have—my family. I supposed that was why I’d made my own.
I skimmed my fingers up and down her arm as the credits rolled. The bowl of popcorn on my lap rattled as the kernels rocked against the bottom of the bowl when I shifted. She buried her face in my chest, letting out a big yawn.
“Did you want to watch another one?” She covered her mouth, catching another yawn.
“Why don’t we go to bed? You know you’re going to be up early making breakfast for everyone.” It was her morning ritual: wake up earlier than any human on vacation should and fill the house with smells that could tempt the devil. Every morning, rumbling stomachs were satisfied as we crowded around the oven and stove to see what she’d made. Sometimes I was allowed to help. Sometimes I wasn’t. On those days, I was happy to watch her work.
She grabbed my phone and checked the time. “Wow, it is late.” She didn’t make a move to get up.
Wrapping my hand around her wrist, I ran my thumb over the back of her hand. Contentment wasn’t something I’d gotten used to. I was used to that restless, leap-out-of-my-skin feeling constantly riding me, but with her I could sit in silence, savoring every touch, every breath, committing the moment to memory.
Something Avery had said earlier was stuck in the back of my head.
“You said your dad messed with Fischer’s locker—was your dad going to call the cops on him? Turn him in for the drugs?”
Her body went so rigid I thought something might snap. The silence was no longer comforting. It was stilted and stifling. She pushed against me, sitting up fully. Dragging the blanket off her legs, she stared down at her hands.
“I don’t know. All I know is Fischer was pissed.” Her throat worked up and down.
“Did Fischer threaten your dad? Threaten you?” Rage pulsed in my veins that she’d gone to bargain for her father after he got mixed up with Fischer’s bullshit instead of coming to me for help.
“Not in so many words. I guess Fischer got scared off or something. There weren’t any issues after that. You ready to go to bed?” She hopped up, effectively ending the conversation. The taste of her lies sat heavy on my tongue. Pressing my lips together, I took her hand and led her back to the bedroom.
We slipped under the covers and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow, almost like she’d willed herself unconscious to evade my questions. The steady, even rise and fall of her chest softened the edges of my restlessness.
She was still not being completely open. Things were still taking shape, unfolding slowly. Talks of the future hadn’t progressed beyond our time at the shore, and there were only a couple of days left. My offer for her to stay in my apartment hadn’t been answered.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Grabbing it, I opened the message, and she grumbled when I slid my arm from behind her head. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I grabbed my computer out of my bag and set up shop in the kitchen.
“What do you need, Randolph?”
“How about for you to answer your phone or email every once in a while?” His blustering belied a gentle soul with a good heart.
“That’s what I pay you for.”
“You pay me to administer your charitable giving, not chase you down. The paperwork is almost finalized, and I’m going to need you to sign a few things. You’re in New Jersey, right? I can have them sent to our Philadelphia offices.”
My ears perked up—it was the perfect excuse to follow Avery. No, of course I’m not following you into the city like a stray who’s finally found a home. I also have business in the city like a normal adult.
“Sure, set that up. Can you have them there in the next couple of days?”
“Of course. Why do you sound so eager?”
“No reason.”
“You’re sure you want to do this, right? This will tie up every dollar outside your trust for the next few years.”
“Yes, do it. I can sign everything as soon as it gets to the office. Why are you up so late?” It was nearly ten in California, way past his bedtime.
“We’re on vacation with the kids, trying to squeeze in some stuff now that everyone’s asleep.”
“Go to bed, man, and stop working on your vacation.”
He grumbled on the other end. “Sign the papers and I won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“Will do.”
We ended the call. I stared at my computer, scrolling through houses and apartments. The first picture I focused on for each was the kitchen. Would Avery like it? Was
there enough space? Then I checked to see how close it was to the bakery. Those questions ran through my head as my eyes strained against the bright screen with the overhead light off.
“What are you doing down here so late?”
I jumped five feet out of my seat when Declan appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.
I slammed my hand against the table, my heart pumping so hard it was like I was on the ice during the last game of the season.
“Christ, you scared the shit out of me!” Gulping down some air, I sat back in my chair. “What are you doing up?”
“I came to get some pain reliever for Mak. She had three drinks tonight, which means we’re on a one-way train to headache-ville in the morning.” He filled a glass with water at the sink. “She swears she’s building her tolerance, and at this rate, she’ll be able to have five drinks in a night when she’s in her fifties. So, what are you doing up?”
He slid the glass onto the counter and opened the makeshift first aid cabinet.
“Had some foundation stuff to do. I have to sign some documents for a charity thing I set up, so I’m going to have to go into Philly for a little while.”
Declan rubbed his hands along his chin. “That’s pretty convenient, considering Avery’s time is almost up, don’t you think?”
I closed my laptop. There wasn’t much I could say to that other than the fact that I was following after her and would for as long as it took. I’d lived without her before, and even when I had thought she’d cheated, I’d had to fight my every instinct to give in and forgive her. Now, there was nothing in this world to keep me away.
“How are things going with you two?”
I turned in my seat, resting my elbows on the back.
“They’re going well, I think. We’re still in this weird place. Neither one of us wants to push the other too quickly, but it’s driving me a little crazy.”