Veer (Clayton Falls)

by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  I tried not to let her lukewarm reception discourage me. We could act like adults.

  “What are you doing out here? No big plans tonight?”

  “No, nothing planned.”

  “I figured you’d be out with Molly or something.” Max rubbed up against my leg, trying to get my attention.

  “I thought she could use some alone time with Ben. Besides, I’m not really in the mood to do anything.” She traced patterns in the sand with her foot, looking down instead of at me.

  “Rough week?”

  She shrugged. “Not the worst ever.”

  “But not the best either I take it.”

  She smiled lightly. “Nope. How about you?”

  “The usual, I guess. I hate working nights. I’m too much of a morning person for it.” I bent down and gave Max the scratch he was waiting for.

  “I’m a morning person too.”

  “So, do you want to talk about what made your week less than stellar?”

  She looked at me with surprise and hesitated before answering. “Not particularly.”

  “It must be really bad.”

  “Just not an exciting conversation topic.”

  I stood back up. “Try me.” I found I actually cared. I needed to know what was upsetting her.

  She smiled for real this time. “Do you have all night?”

  I snapped myself out of the daze her smile put me in. “Actually, I do.”

  Max chose that moment to pull on his leash. He was usually so obedient, but I guess all dogs have their limits.

  “I don’t think he does.” She bent down to pet his head, and he nuzzled right up to her. Unbelievable. He hated everyone but me.

  “Want to walk?”

  “Sure.” She stood up, and Max whimpered in protest. “I’ll finish that later, boy.”

  We started down the beach. “So, you were about to tell me about your week.”

  “I’d hoped you’d forgotten.” She turned back toward the ocean.

  “No such luck.”

  She sighed loudly. “I don’t get this town.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She looked up at the darkening sky then back out at the water. “I just don’t know why people act the way they do, and how I’m supposed to act, or what’s appropriate and where lines are drawn.”

  “Any specifics to back that up?”

  “You really want them?” she asked.

  I looked at her curiously. It sounded like she was getting worked up. “Yeah, I want to know.”

  “First, why is everyone in this place so touchy feely?”

  “Touchy feely?”

  “Yeah, I mean where I come from, you don’t put your hands on people unless they’re your family or super close friends—and even that’s questionable.” She wrapped her arms around her. I wondered if it was because of our conversation or the breeze.

  “Who’s been uh, overly friendly with you?” My body tensed. I didn’t like where this was going.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Sure, it does. I might be able to explain it better.”

  “Only if you promise to keep it between us. I’m not trying to stir up trouble.”

  A light bulb went on. “It’s Matt then, isn’t it?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  “You’re working for him, he’s married, and he has a bit of a reputation.” I was only friends with Matt because of Tom. I’d never understood how someone with so much going for him could be so stupid sometimes.

  “Why is it that no one bothered to tell me that ahead of time? Couldn’t Molly warn me? Or warn me that Mr. Morgan senior isn’t around?” She wrung her hands. “Okay, sorry. This isn’t Molly’s fault.”

  “Either Molly didn’t want to scare you off, or it’s because she wants to believe the best about people. Maybe a little of both.”

  “You’re probably right.” She finally met my gaze.

  “How bad has he been?”

  She looked away and picked up her pace.

  “Whoah. Come on.” I caught up and matched her pace.

  “Nothing awful. He just always makes excuses to touch me, and it makes me uncomfortable.”

  “I can talk to him for you.”

  She shook her head adamantly. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t need problems. I’m sure it’s all innocent.” I hoped she was right, but I had my doubts. Matt had been far too interested in her at the beach. “If you change your mind, let me know. We’re friends, so it would be really easy to do.”

  “Thanks.” She sounded nervous. I hoped she realized I’d keep my word and stay out of it—at least for the time being.

  “Is that the only thing getting you down, or is there more?”

  She let out another deep breath. “I still don’t have my car back, and I feel bad using Molly’s. She invited me down here to be nice, and all I do is keep getting in her way.”

  “I’m sure you’re not in her way.” Molly wasn’t the kind of girl to be catty.

  “Okay, no more complaining.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “But I do. Let’s talk about something else.” She brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “How about them Yankees?” she said with a grin.

  “Aren’t you from Boston?”

  “Yup. It was a joke. I hate the Yankees.”

  “So a big Red Sox fan then?” I vaguely remembered Molly mentioning it once.

  “Diehard. My mom practically raised me on them.”

  I wondered about her definition of diehard. I hadn’t met too many girls who really loved baseball. Usually if they said they did, it was just an attempt to sound more appealing to a guy. I didn’t think that’s what Becca was doing. “That’s cool. You said your mom. Was your dad not into baseball?”

  She paled, and I instantly regretted the question. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

  Max started barking at something he saw down the beach and took off again. I jogged after him, and she kept pace. Once he slowed down, I looked toward her, hoping she’d still answer.

  “I don’t really know my dad.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “It’s all right. He just decided having a kid wasn’t for him and took off when I was pretty young.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah, but my mom was awesome, so she made up for it.”

  “Was?”

  She bit her lip. “She died a few months ago.”

  Damn it. I needed to stop asking questions that upset her. “I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been really tough.”

  “Yeah, it’s life. What’s your family like?”

  I wasn’t prepared for her question about my family. I was still trying to process how hard losing her mom must have been. “I’m the second youngest of four, and my parents are still alive and together. My older brother and sister both live within twenty minutes of my parents.”

  “Wow, four? That’s cool. I’m an only child, so I can’t imagine what it’s like.”

  Wow. No parents, and no siblings. “It was busy, but always fun.”

  “That’s cool. I always swore that if I had a family, I’d have a large one so my kids had each other.”

  “If you had a family? You don’t know if you will?”

  “You never know. I’m single right now, so it’s not really on my radar, you know?” She shrugged.

  “Yeah. I get that.”

  “Do you want a big family? Since you come from one?” She looked at me as if daring me to answer. It didn’t bother me at all.

  “Definitely. My brother and sister were both married with kids by my age, so I’m kind of the black sheep of the family.” What I didn’t tell her is that I was just as surprised as my family about how long it was taking me to settle down. I was beginning to think it just wasn’t in the cards.

  “It’s not like you’re old. You’re a guy. You h
ave so much time.”

  “Yeah, I know, but tell my mom that if you meet her.”

  She laughed. “All right. Will do.”

  The sun had just about disappeared, and I noticed her glancing around apprehensively.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah… but, would you mind…?” She stopped and looked down. “Never mind.”

  “No, what is it?” I had to know. I needed her to ask me a favor—I had been such a jerk to this sweet and sensitive girl who obviously had been through a lot.

  “Would you mind walking me back to my car? I know it’s safe here, but I’m used to the city and—”

  “Absolutely,” I agreed immediately, but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. We’d managed to have a conversation that didn’t involve arguing, and I enjoyed it more than I’d expected. “But would you maybe want to come over and hang out for a bit? I live right over there.” I pointed to my balcony.

  “Well— ” I could tell she was searching for an excuse. I couldn’t let her find one.

  “You did promise Max you’d continue petting him.”

  She smiled. “All right, for a little while. But then you’ll walk me to my car afterward?”

  She really was worried. “Of course.”

  “Okay.”

  “Great.” I tried to play it down.

  We walked around and up the front steps of my condo. I unlocked the door and let her go in first. I held Max back.

  “You live in a loft? That’s so cool. I didn’t think they had places like this here.”

  “I take it you’re a fan of lofts?”

  “Love them. I want one really badly. Maybe when I’m done with school and can afford one in a safe neighborhood.” She continued her perusal.

  There she went again with safety—either she’d been through something traumatic, or she was paranoid. I sensed it was the former.

  “May I look around?”

  “Absolutely, make yourself at home.” I unleashed Max and walked into the kitchen.

  Becca gazed out the floor to ceiling windows. “This view is insane. I could just stare out forever. It must be amazing during the day.”

  “You think this is good. I have these windows in my room too.”

  “You get to go to sleep and wake up to the ocean every day? I’m jealous.”

  I laughed. “Glad to know you like it. From what I understand, people fought them putting these condos in. I just figured if I was living in a beach town, I was going to really do it.”

  “Yeah, where did you say you were from?”

  “What’s the problem, can’t place the accent?” I teased.

  She turned away from the windows and glared at me. “I really upset you with that, huh?”

  “Nah, I just wanted to give you a hard time.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Okay, I couldn’t let things go down that path again. “Would you like something to drink?” I was already pulling out some glasses and looking through my wine collection. She struck me as a girl who liked wine.

  She hesitated, and I repeated “please stay” over and over in my head. I had an irrational need to spend time with her. I wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

  She walked over to me and saw the wine. “Maybe one glass.”

  “Cool.” I poured us each a glass and walked over to the couch.

  She took her glass from me and sat down. “A drink with a view, nice.”

  I sat down next to her but left plenty of space between us. “Shall we toast?”

  “To what?”

  “A fresh start.”

  “You mean for us?”

  “Yeah. I know we started off on the wrong foot, but if it’s okay with you, I’d like to be friends.”

  She smiled. “Friends. Yeah, I think I can handle that.”

  “Okay good.” I lifted my glass. “To a fresh start and new friends.”

  She took a small sip, and I liked the way she closed her eyes afterward, savoring it.

  “Mmm, a pinot noir. Velvety.”

  “You know wine.” I was right.

  “Yeah, wine is one of the few luxuries I allow myself. You know, other than my state of the art car.” She swirled the wine around in her glass.

  “That is a nice car.”

  She leaned back against the couch. I liked that she was getting comfortable. I liked that she was comfortable at my place.

  Chapter Eleven

  Becca

  How I allowed myself to end up drunk at Gavin’s that night, I’ll never know. When he asked me, I knew I should say no. I just didn’t want to go home to the empty pool house—or at least that’s what I told myself. In the one week I’d been in town, I’d already watched all of my movies. I was going to have to ask Jake if I could borrow some of his. When Gavin pointed out his condo, I had to see it. I was dying to know if there was anything even remotely modern in town.

  The inside of his place was even cooler than I expected. I had to give him credit. He had good taste. I loved the concrete counter tops, the exposed brick and beams, and that view. It was breathtaking.

  We settled into a comfortable conversation, and I let myself relax. He seemed different. Instead of arguing, he appeared legitimately interested in learning more about me, and I found I actually cared about his story as well.

  “Tell me about your job,” I asked after Gavin popped open our second bottle of wine. I wasn’t sure where the first one went, but it was good, and I wasn’t complaining.

  “My job?” He poured more into his empty glass.

  “Yeah. Is being a cop like it is on TV?”

  He laughed. “Not exactly. Well, unless you watch cop shows that involve ticketing farmers for tractor violations or making sure teens don’t get too crazy with their parties.”

  “Come on, there has to be more.”

  He took a long sip of wine. “No, really there isn’t. Crime isn’t much of a problem here.”

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing.” I guess there were some benefits of living in the middle of nowhere.

  “Not bad, just boring.” He stared pensively down into his wine.

  “I get that.”

  “What do you plan to do after you graduate?” His hazel eyes had more green in them than usual, probably because he was wearing a green t-shirt.

  I relaxed back into the arm of the couch, enjoying my wine before answering. “I want to work for the District Attorney in Boston. I’d love to be an assistant D.A. one day.”

  “A prosecutor? I can see that. I’d bet you’d be pretty intimidating in the court room.”

  “Intimidating?” I laughed. “Not exactly, but I think I’d be good at it. I’m on the trial team at school, and I’ve done pretty well.”

  “Well, I definitely wouldn’t want to be a criminal you were trying to put behind bars.”

  “I’m not that scary.”

  “No, you’re not.” He looked at me for a minute, finishing off his glass. “Are you ready for more?”

  “I probably shouldn’t, but why not?” An idle thought about how in the world I was going to get home hit me, but I was already tipsy, and I easily brushed it off.

  “Well I know you said you don’t see much action as a cop here, but at least you’d be ready for it if you did.”

  He poured a little more wine in my glass. “What do you mean?”

  “I just mean you’re in good shape—you could handle whatever.” I was fighting the urge to run my hand down his chest. His t-shirt clung to it tightly, and I remembered what his chest had looked like that day on the beach.

  To distract myself, I pulled out my hair tie and let my hair fall down.

  A small smile spread across his lips as he reached over to take a lock of my hair between his fingers. “I like when you wear your hair down.”

  “Yeah? It’s pretty long. I’m growing it out for Locks for Love.”

  “Oh, the wigs for cancer patients? That’s really cool.”

  “Yeah. I think it’s almost long enough now
.” I didn’t go into all of the reasons it was important to me. Most revolved around my mom.

  “I’m sure it’ll still look good short, but I like it now.”

  “Thanks.”

  Watching him play with my hair undid me. I lost my battle and reached out to touch him, tentatively at first. “Let me rephrase my previous comment. You’re in amazing shape.” I could feel the blood rushing to my face and knew I was blushing, but I got a little braver, moving my hand more.

  He chuckled. “You’re not in such bad shape yourself.” I felt his hand on my leg and realized belatedly that my skirt was riding up. This would usually have been the point where I would have moved the guy’s hand and excused myself, but I didn’t want to.

  “You know, I had a dream about you last night.” Alcohol made me honest. Very, very honest.

  “A good dream?” His hand moved further up my leg.

  “A really, really good dream.”

  “That’s a coincidence. I had the same kind about you last night. But then again, I’ve been having them all week.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Uh huh.” His lids were getting heavy. I knew if I wanted to bolt, I was going to have to act fast. I didn’t move.

  “That’s nice.”

  “Nice? Is that all it is?”

  “Great, exciting, wonderful…”

  “Perfect.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against mine.

  When he pulled away slightly, I felt his absence. “Yeah, perfect.”

  His lips returned, moving against mine slowly at first before getting more aggressive. His tongue pushed its way into my mouth. His arms wrapped around me, and I let him lead me onto his lap. We broke the kiss only long enough for him to hike my skirt up more so I could straddle him.

  One of his hands moved under my shirt, slipping under my bra to cradle a breast. I moaned, enjoying the feeling of being touched. I reached a hand down to slip under his shirt. I needed to feel his skin. He pulled back from the kiss, and I looked down at him.

  He didn’t say anything. He pulled off his t-shirt, tossing it to the floor. Next, he moved his attention to my shirt, pulling it off slowly, before throwing it to join his. His hand went around to unclasp my bra. His eyes watched for my reaction. I nodded, letting him know I was all in, as though my place on his lap didn’t already say it all.