by Natasha Boyd
Then I sank back to his mouth.
He pulled back.
“Please kiss me,” I begged and nipped at his lips. “I love kissing you. I want to think about kisses not postcards. Help me not think.”
He sighed, taking my face in his hands again and opening his mouth over mine. His tongue had the slight bitter tang of beer, and I loved it. I loved how he angled my face to suit him. How his hand, when it wasn’t holding or caressing my jaw, snaked into my hair and massaged the back of my head.
All too soon, my breathing rate had notched up with my pulse, and my hands tightened in the hair at his nape. The fire I felt each time he’d kissed me unfurled at lightning speed low in my belly. I gasped into his mouth, opening wider, seeking more.
He made a low growling sound and pulled me to straddle his hips. The position put me half a head higher than him. His face dropped to my neck, my ear, and my shoulder, his mouth hot and wet over my skin. Goose bumps erupted over my flesh, and the close quarters meant we were leaning at an odd angle. I put my hands up on the cabin roof to avoid banging my head. It was feverish and awkward and I never wanted it to stop.
His hand roamed from my waist until he was gripping my ass and pulling me forward. Grinding me against him.
“Shit,” he said, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth slack and a flush across his cheekbones. “I’ll never be able to have cinnamon again and not think of this.” He took my mouth again, tasting, and I kissed him back. “But we should stop,” he managed, pulling his mouth from mine.
I rocked against him, hitting pay dirt as his erection made contact with me, making him hiss a breath through his teeth. “I know,” I moaned. “But this feels so good.”
The hand on my ass squeezed. “I need to get you safely home.”
I sighed. “Okay. But for the record. You can kiss me any time. Your lips are delicious.”
He chuckled. “So are yours.”
“This is just between you and me,” I said. “I don’t need the whole world knowing we are kissing buddies.”
He didn’t say anything, so I took his face and tilted it up to me. He resisted slightly but let me. His pupils were large and dark, almost covering his denim blue eyes. He stared at me unblinking and I looked back at him. “Nothing to say to that?”
His shoulders moved. “Nope.”
“Okay, lets go.” I climbed off his lap.
He blew out a breath and rubbed his face. Then he got up, promptly bashing his head on the cabin ceiling. “Ouch,” he yelped.
I burst out laughing. “Sorry.” I winced. “Shit. You okay?”
He sat back down and rubbed his head. “No,” he moaned. “I’m too big for this boat. How was this comfortable for your father?”
“It was just him.”
“He left it here?”
“When he left my mom and me. Left it for me I guess. He always said it would be mine one day.”
“How old were you?”
“Around five.”
“Pink cowgirl boots age?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded his head toward the berth in the bow of the boat. “You ever slept in there?”
“The night? No. But I dozed off tonight before you texted. My mom would tan my hide if I did that.”
“You’re a bit old for a tanning, aren’t you?”
“It’s an expression, jackass.”
“I know.” He laughed, then sobered. “Actually, on the subject of your mom—”
“You think she’s seeing Dr. Barrett,” I finished for him.
He turned his head to me. “Yeah.”
“I think so too. If they aren’t yet, they will soon.”
Joey swallowed and rubbed his hand over his short hair. “I’ve met his wife and his girls. They are so nice.”
I squished onto the bench next to him and traced my fingers over the engraved brass plaque on the galley next to me that had the name of the boat: All That Jazz. “I bet they are.” I looked at Joey. “I’m sorry.”
He frowned. “It’s not your fault.”
“Sometimes I think it is, you know? Like if she hadn’t had me to look after she could have gone on dates, maybe met a better man who was better to her than my father. One that would have at least stuck around.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“Well, I’ve been a burden I guess. Not important enough for my dad to stick around for and a drain on my mother’s time and resources. A crimp in her lifestyle.” I slapped my thigh. “Sweet baby Jesus. Listen to my pity party.”
“I am,” said Joey. “I understand more than you know. But you know what?”
I looked at him warily, and he took my hand where it was still tracing the name of the boat over and over. “What?” I asked.
“You’re all that, Jazz,” he deadpanned. Then he clamped his mouth shut, his eyes bugging out as if trying to keep looking serious.
I mashed my lips together and glared at him. Oh shit. I tried really hard not to laugh. But suddenly a giggle snort erupted out of me.
I wheezed. “That was, like—”
“The worst fucking joke ever?”
I gave up trying to hold my laugh in and laughed out loud. Joey laughed too. We had cabin fever or something. Literally. “Yeah,” I admitted. “Terrible.”
“You ever brought anyone to this boat?”
“Keri Ann once or twice.”
“Chase?”
I shook my head.
His fingers traced my hairline and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Good,” he said. “I like that you’ve only shared this with me.”
WHEN I WOKE up for our second to last day of school, I heard voices in the kitchen of my apartment. Sleep was gritty in my eyes after staying so long on the boat with Joey the night before. I was already running late, though it was hard to care when we weren’t doing anything in class. Frankly you could tell some of the teachers would prefer we didn’t show up. But most of us did if for nothing else than to see our friends before we all scattered for summer plans and jobs. Someone of us were staying in the area. Some of the people from our class would go away to college and perhaps never come back.
Hearing my mother’s laugh again, I went on alert. This was her flirty throaty laugh. Which meant—
Oh, hell no. I kicked back the covers and threw a cardigan over my tank top before following the smell of fresh coffee to the kitchen.
Dr. Martin Barrett, keys in one hand, leaned down to kiss my mother. “I have to go,” he said, smiling indulgently at her. “But see you when you get in?” I recognized him from his website. Thick brown hair, greying at the temples, and a tall forehead. He was lean with long legs.
Mom was wearing tiny shorts, one leg tucked under her, and clutching a cup of coffee. She was smiling adoringly up at him.
I cleared my throat from the doorway.
They both startled and looked up.
“I seriously hope you all had time to remember to go back and check on Nana Butler before this little escapade,” I said, walking to the coffee machine and pouring myself a cup. “What did you tell your little girls, Doctor Barrett? Daddy has to work late saving lives?”
“That’s enough, Jessica,” Mom snapped, her eyes pained. She turned to her guest. “Martin, I’m sorry.”
I snorted and found the milk in the refrigerator.
“It’s okay, love,” he said.
Love? What in the ever loving hell?
“I have to run,” he said. “Good-bye, Jessica, I presume.”
“You presume correctly. Would you like me to let Joseph know you’re running late?” I took a small sip of coffee, looking over the rim wide-eyed.
Dr. Martin Barrett leveled me with a cool stare. “You do whatever you need to.” Then he picked up his blazer from the back of a kitchen chair and headed to the hallway and out the front door.
The whirring of the refrigerator was the only sound in the kitchen. The front door banged shut.
Mom got up and walked to the sink, slamming her cup
down in it. “I hope you’re satisfied.”
“Nope. Not even close,” I snapped and walked back to my room.
I slammed the door hard.
Thinking about graduation tomorrow felt bittersweet. I could feel the cotton wool protection of youth getting flimsier. Real life looked like it was going to be a bitch.
Receiving my diploma tomorrow would feel lonely. I hoped my mom had remembered to schedule time off work. Then I thought about my best friend. Hopefully, Nana would be able to make it because Joey and Nana were going to have to be there for me too.
Joseph, as crazy as he made me, was a part of my security blanket. He and his sister and Nana made up a surrogate and dependable family for me. I closed my eyes and envisioned Joseph, the way he’d looked at me last night, the way he’d asked me about my dad, and I felt the area around my heart grow warm. If I wasn’t careful, my attraction to Joseph and the connection I felt with his family, could very well lead to me falling desperately in love with him.
LIZZIE’S VALEDICTORIAN SPEECH at our small Butler Cove High graduation ceremony was beautiful and uplifting. Nana, having been released from the hospital, Joseph, and my mom all sat together clapping and cheering when first Keri Ann, and then I, walked across the stage to receive our diplomas.
We made plans for an early celebratory dinner on the patio at Woody’s for the five of us. It was busy when we got there, the first tourists trickling in early to begin their Memorial Day weekend getaways.
“Here’s to you two gorgeous, smart girls,” my mom raised her glass.
Nana joined in. “I’m so proud of you two.”
We raised our glasses. “And early happy birthday to Jazz,” said Joey. I looked over at him, quickly covering my surprise that he remembered.
He winked at me.
“Yep, my baby’s going be eighteen tomorrow,” my mom cooed.
“You don’t look old enough to have an eighteen year old daughter, Ms. Fraser,” Joey said to her.
Mom blushed. “Why thank you, Joseph.”
I silently thanked him.
“So are you enjoying working with Dr. Barrett?” my mom asked Joey.
“I am. I’m thinking that I might like to move in the direction of cardiac care as a specialty.”
Nana patted his hand. “Imagine. A heart surgeon in the family.” She beamed.
“Well, I don’t know about surgeon, but I’ll sure try.”
Everyone seemed impressed. I was too, but wasn’t that a lot more years of study? When was my best friend going to get a chance at going to college? I knew Joey was using some of their parents’ life insurance for tuition. Would there be any money left when Keri Ann wanted to go?
We chatted and ate burgers and then finally Nana was too tired to stay out any longer.
“We still going to the bonfire?” asked Keri Ann as we got up from the table.
“Damn straight,” I replied. “Remember, we’re pretending this is my birthday party. I won’t have time to do anything tomorrow. I have housekeeping in the morning, and my first official stint on beach patrol in the afternoon. Wish me luck.”
“Luck.” Keri Ann scrunched her nose.
“I won’t be good for shit by the time that’s over.” I sighed. “Then I still have to do a few hours in the boutique with Faith from five ‘til eight. This is a huge weekend for her.”
“I know. I’m on lunch and dinner shift tomorrow at The Snapper Grill. Okay, so tonight it is!” She leaned in. “I persuaded Joey to get us some booze,” she whispered. “And he’s going to drink with us.”
“Serious?” I asked.
We pulled ahead of the group.
Joe was helping Nana maneuver a path through the tables and chairs. “I bet that went over well,” I said. “Mr. Super responsible wants to get buzzed with us?”
“Well, let’s put it this way. I told him he wasn’t invited unless he got drunk with us. We can ride bikes to the beach so it’s not like we have to have a designated driver.”
“Joey’s not going to stay sober so he can be a buzzkiller later? I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Seeing Joseph cutting loose for a little bit was definitely going to be unmissable entertainment. A thrill went through me. I knew how much kissing I could get him to do when his inhibitions were lowered. Like last night on the boat, for example.
We approached the turn off for our apartment. “So I guess I’ll meet you at the beach. Makes more sense than coming to your place first.”
SOON AS WE got home, my mom started to get changed.
“Where are you going, Mom?”
She paused and looked at me through her open bedroom door. “Honestly, Jessica, I don’t think you really want to know.”
Dammit. My hands clenched and unclenched. A mild panicky feeling clawed at my chest. “You’re right. I don’t.” I folded my arms and came to stand in her doorway as she turned back to her dresser. “God, Mom, is it too much to ask that you just find your own man and not somebody else’s? It’s humiliating.”
“It’s got nothing to do with you. How is it even humiliating?”
“Joey suspects. I hope you know that.”
“You haven’t said anything, have you?” she asked.
“Of course not, Mom. Unlike you I think about other people before I do stuff.” I spit out the words. “I’m hardly going to tell Joey in case he has to see or speak to Dr. Barrett’s family. Can you imagine how awful he’ll feel? No,” I answered my own question, my voice rising. “I’m sure you can’t. Because if you were able to think of anyone else, you’d never put us all in this position.”
I walked into the bathroom.
“Hey, I was going to shower,” Mom called.
“Too damn bad, Mom. Apparently, we just do what we like in this family without thinking of each other, and I’m showering first.” I slammed the door.
My God, I’d slammed the door twice this week. I would have thought by the time I turned eighteen I’d be over doing that as a way to express my frustration. Well, I guessed I got an extra one in just under the wire.
I’d styled my hair that morning because it was graduation day, so now I clipped it out the way and took a quick shower. I moisturized from top to bottom with vanilla-scented lotion and then applied some light make up and mascara. Unclipping my hair, I shook out the loose waves, satisfied that I felt pretty without having tried to hard. It was infuriating that Joey was front and center of my consciousness in every single one of my beauty rituals. I even argued with mental Joseph about wearing the short sundress vs. the shorts. Dress, he said. Shorts, I argued. I didn’t ask his opinion when I chose my nicest bra and panties. It was none of his business. But it didn’t stop him folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. I was losing it, seriously. He’d turned me into a certifiable nut job.
I slipped back into the bathroom recently freed up by my mother. My phone was blowing up in the back pocket of my shorts. I quickly brushed on some metallic bronzer and used a metallic gold arm band tattoo I’d been saving for a special occasion.
“Jessica, are you done in the bathroom?”
I flung open the door. “Yes,” I huffed. “Have fun with Dr. Barrett.”
“You look lovely,” she said as I wafted past her. “Where are you going?”
“Honestly, Mom, it’s probably best if you don’t know.”
I went to my room and pulled out my phone.
KA: You on the way?
Chase: Hey, that bonfire still on? You going?
Nothing from Joey.
But a text from an unknown number.
Hey, it’s Harry. Woody says mail came for you.
My skin prickled. My dad.
I slipped my feet into my yellow flip flops, grabbed my lip gloss, twenty bucks, and slipped the elastic with my apartment key on it onto my wrist.
The sliding door closed behind me, and I ran down the path to Woody’s, my heart beating erratically. I hadn’t heard from him in forever. Seven months? I’d stopped counting weeks w
hen they ventured upward of fifteen. He was supposed to be coming for my birthday.
I skidded around the corner of the boardwalk to Woody’s. The place was crazy. Dirty Harry was in his usual spot though. He saw me and his eyes widened as he looked me up and down. “Your mama know you look like that?”
“Like what?” my chin bobbed back, offended.
“All prettied up. You look pretty. Prettier.” He shook his head. “Ahh, give an old man a break. Can’t compliment a young gal without being creepy.”
I grinned and held my hand out.
He pulled a postcard out of his top pocket and slapped it on my outstretched hand. My dad! I grabbed Harry in a brief and tight hug. “Thank you!”
“Damn, I woulda made sure I got to hand you your mail all the time,” he said. “There was other mail too, but I figured you would want this one.”
“You figured correct. Okay, gotta go. And thank you.” I skipped back to the boardwalk, the postcard pressed to my chest. I’d waited so long, I almost didn’t want to look. This moment could last forever as far as I was concerned. If my dad was sending me a postcard, he was all right. And he hadn’t forgotten about me. Normally I read his postcards on the boat, but I was due at the beach. I chewed my lip. Just once I could break tradition, right?
I pulled the postcard away from my chest, picture up. The path lamppost was dim but I could see. It was a mountain with a completely flat top as if a massive scythe swung through the air and sliced through the rock like butter. A city was nestled at the foot, tucked in between the mountain and the shore. The shot was taken from the water. It was beautiful. I turned the postcard over.
Cape Town, South Africa
This place is beautiful, Jazzy Bear. You remember I told you I thought Rio was the most beautiful city on the planet? Well, I changed my mind, it’s this place. Even if it’s Christmas in summer. I hope you can visit it one day. You must be a few months into your senior year. Keep your head down, don’t be hard on your mother, and graduate. Then your life can begin. I hope I’m with you to celebrate the momentous occasion. It’ll be around the same time as your birthday. I’m still planning on coming to Butler Cove for that. Don’t you dare turn eighteen without me. Love always, I miss you like a penguin misses its waddle (<~ You can’t beat that one. A penguin without a waddle just isn’t a penguin).