Summer Magic

by Rochelle Alers

  She compressed her lips. And he was a fine one to talk. He’d accused her of flirting with men while he had to fight off women who saw nothing wrong with trying to pick him up in a restaurant. Well, an outdoor island-wide celebration was very different from a restaurant setting, and only time would tell how successful he would be at this venue or if he would require her assistance.

  Elaine gave Logan a sensual smile. “Something smells very good under that cover.”

  “Spareribs,” he replied.

  “Hmm-mm. One of my favorite.” Leaning over a table, she wrote down SPARERIBS above the printed words DONATED BY on a small place card. “What are your full names?”

  “Logan and Caryn Edwards,” she answered smoothly. Without moving, Logan lowered his eyelids slowly in a gesture of gratitude and flashed a sly wink.

  “What else are you two donating?”

  Caryn gave Elaine the information while Logan took his tray to where an elderly bearded man directed him outside the tent.

  At exactly twelve noon all of Marble Island gathered under the large tent and bowed their head as the minister of the nondemoninational church led the assembled in a benediction, followed by the Pledge of Allegiance and the national anthem.

  The Shelton twins, Chris Barnett, and Randy Bell had volunteered to serve the attendees, and Caryn smiled and exchanged words with each of them as she filled her plate with Logan’s spareribs, small portions of potato salad, Addie’s cole slaw, one of her own leek and bacon knots, and a thin slice of her cheese and chive braided bread.

  Tables groaned under platters of fried chicken, whole honey-roasted hams, flaky crab cakes, tender corn on the cob, relishes, salsa, fluffy biscuits, rich buttered corn bread, gumbo, varieties of fish including golden-fried catfish, black-eyed peas, and appetizers offering egg rolls, spicy chicken strips, deep-fried dill pickle chips, and okra. A table set up only for desserts elicited everyone’s attention, but would remain untouched for several hours.

  A knowing smile curved Caryn’s mouth as she sat beside Logan and watched two young women sit down opposite them. It was apparent these were the two who had approached him at Addie’s. Both were young and extremely attractive African-American women. The taller had affected a short natural hairdo which showed off the perfection of her balanced features and flawless brown skin, while the other claimed a profusion of gray-streaked hair she had styled in a becoming wedge-cut.

  The shorter woman extended her hand, smiling. “Shevonne Wilson.”

  Logan shook the proffered hand. “Logan.” He withdrew his hand, at the same time curving an arm around Caryn’s shoulders. “I’d like to introduce my wife, Caryn Edwards.”

  The introduction was accomplished so smoothly, Caryn’s shock mirrored the startled expressions on the faces of the two women. It was one thing to let people assume they were married, but another to openly lie about it.

  Recovering quickly, the other woman glanced down at their ringless fingers. “Mandisa Leonard,” she said around a forced grin.

  “Are you two from around here?” Caryn questioned, picking up a glass of ice-cold lemonade.

  “No. We’re from New York City,” Shevonne replied. “Do you guys live on Marble Island?”

  Logan shook his head. “Not year-round. We’re here on vacation.”

  “Do you intend to spend the entire summer here?” Mandisa’s gaze was fixed on Logan even though she had addressed Caryn.

  “Yes,” Logan answered. “How about yourselves?”

  “We only have another week,” Shevonne said, scowling.

  Caryn flashed a knowing smile. “Try to enjoy every minute.”

  Shevonne nodded. “That’s what we’ve been trying to do.”

  Sure you have, Caryn thought. And with my housemate, no less. But what the two women did not know was that Logan Prescott was not interested in becoming involved with any woman, no matter how attractive she was.

  Logan stood up, the fingers of his left hand curving around Caryn’s neck. “Can I get you anything else, sweetheart?”

  Smiling up at him, she shook her head. “No, darling.”

  He smiled at Shevonne and Mandisa. “Ladies?”

  Mandisa shook her head while Shevonne handed Logan her plate. “If there are any more ribs left, I’ll take a few.”

  Logan’s spareribs were the talk of the afternoon. His special sauce was sweet and spicy, while the meat was so tender it literally fell off the bone. She had sampled a few after he’d finished grilling them and requested he hold back half a rack. He’d wiped away smudges of sauce from her cheeks, grinning broadly, then showed her a full rack he’d placed in the freezer.

  Randy Bell joined them at their table, along with the others who had volunteered to serve, and the energy level escalated considerably. Everyone was given the opportunity to tell a joke, and Caryn had to search her memory to tell one successfully without giving away the punch line.

  She and Logan found themselves at different tables every hour throughout the afternoon, as it was a mandated Marble Island Independence Day ritual to acquaint themselves with all of the permanent and vacationing residents.

  Around seven many of the younger parents left, taking their youngsters and toddlers home as the sun began its slow descent. A DJ arrived and set up his equipment under the tent, while a clean-up committee made quick work of removing discarded food and other debris, while Caryn marveled at how quickly the time had passed.

  Glancing down at her blue and white striped cotton slacks, she winced. They were stained with a variety of foodstuffs, while her white blouse was covered with smudges of chocolate from a brownie held by a toddler who had crawled onto her lap. Shrugging a shoulder, she realized it was too late to go back to the house and change.

  The familiar strands of a popular ballad came through the powerful speakers, followed by the distinctive mellifluent voice of Frank Sinatra singing “Witchcraft.”

  Caryn felt heat behind her, and she inhaled the now familiar fragrance of the aftershave belonging to the man with whom she was sharing a house. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against his chest, humming softly. His arm circled her waist, holding her firmly.

  “You’re a very smooth liar, Logan.” Her soft voice feathered around him like a cloaking fog.

  “And so are you, Caryn,” he countered. “Logan Edwards?”

  She chuckled softly. “And I suppose that makes us even?”

  “For me it does. Now, may I have this dance, wife?”

  Turning slowly, she studied his smiling face. “Yes, you may, husband.”

  Taking her hand, he led her out of the tent and onto the grassy lawn. He pulled her against his body, molding her to his length. She closed her eyes, melting into his strength. Other couples joined in the dancing as a magical curtain descended on Marble Island and all who inhabited it.

  “Thank you for not revealing who I am,” he whispered close to her ear.

  “You’re welcome,” she whispered back. “I’m usually not such an accomplished liar, but I didn’t know what else to say when Elaine asked your full name. And I suppose perpetuating the lie came in handy because you were about to be plucked royally by two Big Apple divas.”

  Pulling back, he squinted down at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Shevonne and Mandisa. They want you.”

  He snorted, shaking his head. “They don’t want me.”

  “Don’t they, Logan?”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “Are you blind? Didn’t you see Miss Mandisa Leonard eat you up with her eyes?”

  Tightening his grip on her waist, he pulled her closer. “No,” he repeated in a quiet tone. “I can’t even remember what she looks like.”

  He’d told her the truth. In fact, he hadn’t paid much attention to any of the women on the island except the one in his arms. Introducing her as his wife had come as natural as breathing. And it was after the words were out, he’d wondered if his life would’ve taken a different turn if he’d been engage
d to Caryn instead of Nina. Would she also have proven herself unfaithful?

  And for the first time he questioned his own behavior and what he had done or not done to elicit fidelity from a woman. Had he been too involved in his work? Had she blamed him for not seeing her more often? Or had he not offered her what she needed for total sexual gratification?

  A switch was flipped, and the string of bulbs ringing the open field illuminated the entire area with a soft glow as the Sinatra ballad segued into another one featuring the velvet voice of Nat King Cole.

  Caryn lost track of time as she and Logan danced to a continuous string of ballads, she following his expert lead. The tempo of the music changed, becoming more upbeat the later the hour, and both agreed it was time they headed back to the house.

  Yawning delicately behind her hand, she leaned back on the seat in the Jeep and closed her eyes. The night air was warm and humid as it feathered over her face in the open vehicle.

  Logan drove slowly and turned off the main road onto Watermelon Patch Lane, pulling into the driveway of the last house on the dead-end street alongside Caryn’s parked car. He shut off the engine, then came around to help her out.

  Her arms circled his neck as he lifted her gently and carried her up to the house. He loathed putting her down, but was forced to when he had to retrieve the key.

  The porch lights shadowed her features as she turned to him. “Thank you for a wonderful day, Logan.”

  He turned the key in the lock. “I should be the one thanking you.” Pushing open the door, he reached for a button on the wall and flooded the second-story hallway with light.

  Caryn felt a foreign urgency to escape the man standing a few feet away from her. She’d spent the past sixteen hours with him, eating together, dancing together, and pretending to be his wife. Now, they were behind closed doors and there was no need for the pretense. She could be who she was and he who he was—Caryn Edwards and Logan Prescott.

  “Good night,” she mumbled softly as she made her way toward the stairs.

  Taking three long strides, Logan was beside her. His fingers closed around her upper arm, tightening slightly when she tried freeing herself.

  Holding her and making her his prisoner, he pulled her to his chest, his head lowering with a deliberate slowness. “Good night,” he whispered, his hot mouth covering hers and robbing her of her breath and her will.

  This kiss was different from the others they’d shared. It was slow, unhurried, gentle, and persuasive. He applied a steady pressure until her lips parted, allowing him total access.

  The caress of Logan’s lips on hers ignited the flame that had been extinguished years before. The heat spread from her mouth to her chest, and still lower to the secret place between her thighs.

  Caryn did not know when it happened, but without warning she was returning the kiss, her tongue meeting Logan’s, she succumbing to the forceful domination of his mouth. Her fingers tightened on the soft fabric of his sweater as she tried getting even closer.

  It was as if Logan Prescott’s presence had teased her for days, and now she was able to commune and partake of everything he was offering. Caught up in the rapture of his mouth and the hardness of his body melding with hers, she surrendered to the healing passion and the realization that she wanted Logan—not just his kiss, but all of him.

  Logan pulled her closer, wanting to absorb Caryn into himself. His right hand moved down her back and cupped her hips. He wanted her to feel his rising passion, his hardness. He wanted her to know he wanted her, wanted to be inside her. His left hand was as busy as his right, pulling the hem of her blouse up, baring flesh before his fingers closed over the sheer lace covering her breast.

  Her breast swelled, the nipple hardening against his palm. Caryn moaned against his lips, seeking to escape. She thought she was ready for Logan and mature enough to engage in a sexual liaison with him, but she wasn’t. She needed time, a lot more time than just three days.

  “Logan, no,” she mumbled, anchoring her hands between their bodies and pushing against his hard chest.

  Without warning, he released her and she turned and walked determinedly up the stairs, her body trembling uncontrollably from the force of the passion pulsing at the juncture of her thighs.

  Logan watched her retreat, his hands tightening into fists. He was angry, angry with himself. He’d made a mistake and moved too quickly, when all he wanted was for her to want him as much as he wanted her. One thing he was, was a quick study. It would not happen again.

  A slight smile transformed his stoic expression. “Good night, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered.

  He stared at the staircase for a full minute, then turned and made his way to the rear of the house. He’d left Domino in his cage for more than eight hours. He would walk his pet, clean the cage, then sit with the puppy until he fell asleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  July fifth—

  He kissed my soul!

  Even now, hours later I can still recall the taste of his mouth, the texture of his tongue, the smell of his body.

  His friends may call him Raven, but I call him Warlock!

  He is a powerful magician who has lured me into a sensual trap. A trap from which there is no escape.

  But I’m not certain whether I want to escape—not yet.

  Caryn put away her journal, picked up her handbag, and quietly made her way down the staircase and out of the house. She’d gotten up early, deciding to spend the day away from Marble Island. She wanted to drive up the coast and shop—for what she was uncertain. Perhaps she would stop in a small, quaint town and pick up a few craft items.

  Muted shades of color in gray and mauve crisscrossed the sky as she started up her car and backed out of the driveway, and by the time she’d left Marble Island behind a watery sun shimmered over the ocean.

  * * *

  Logan had not realized it was the sound of a car’s engine that woke him until he rose and looked for Caryn and discovered her and her car missing.

  He felt oddly disappointed not seeing her, while refusing to acknowledge he missed her or that she had become an integral part of his existence while on Marble Island. He saw to Domino’s needs before jogging the mile and a half along the beach to the island’s business center and returning to the house to begin a day of work.

  He shaved, showered, pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans, a T-shirt, and covered his bare feet with a pair of tattered leather moccasins. Releasing an excited, whining Domino from his cage, he rewarded the obedient puppy with an outing of the run of the front porch when he looped an extended leash around a column. Fortified with a large mug and a carafe of strong coffee, Logan retrieved his power notebook and sat on the porch with the intent to complete the draft of a proposal for Raleigh’s zoning board.

  Time passed quickly, and hunger pangs forced him to stop and glance at his watch. It was nearing noon, and all he had consumed had been three cups of black coffee. A noticeable frown furrowed his smooth forehead. If Caryn had been home, he probably would’ve eaten breakfast, and if not breakfast then brunch.

  The frown vanished as a realization washed over him. He didn’t like eating alone. Why hadn’t he been aware of that before meeting Caryn Edwards? He smiled. He liked Caryn. In fact he liked her a lot, and found her to be more sexy than any woman he had ever met. And he suspected she was unaware of how very sexy she actually was.

  Closing his eyes, he relived kissing her and how she had fitted so perfectly against his body. When he had taken her into his arms, she resisted slightly before going pliant and returning his kiss. The feel and taste of her tongue was imprinted on his brain, along with the soft crush of her breasts against his chest.

  A soft moan escaped him as he recalled the size and weight of her breast and the hardening nipple against his palm. He had aroused her in the same manner she had aroused him. And again, he wanted her. He wanted her naked, in his bed, his body joined with hers. And he wanted her writhing uncontrollably in his embrace while bot
h soared with a passion taking them beyond themselves and exploding into a lingering satisfaction that would last a lifetime.

  Lifetime! His eyes opened and his chest heaved heavily as if he had run a grueling race. What was wrong with him? He had walked away from one woman, and within two weeks he found himself caught in the spell of another who barely tolerated his presence.

  Saving what he had typed, he turned off the computer and went into the house to find something to eat. He hadn’t eaten anything in eighteen hours, and maybe, just maybe he was confused because of food deprivation.

  By late afternoon the sky darkened with fast-moving angry clouds, and Logan pushed a button on the Wrangler and put up the soft top to keep out the impending rainfall. A strong, rising wind caused the ocean to stir restlessly in its bed and pound the shore with dull gray, white-tipped waves. Standing on the porch, he watched the waves break higher and higher over the beach, while Domino stood at his side shivering.

  “It looks like a storm, fella,” he said softly, leaning down and scratching behind the spotted head. The wind gusts increased, moaning like someone in pain.

  A rumble of thunder shook the earth, followed by an ear-crashing clap of lightning, and Domino whined while at the same time tried to hide between his master’s denim-covered legs.

  A second roll of thunder followed, and when the lightning struck, it bounced off the water and exploded like a bomb. As an experienced boatman, Logan knew the impending storm was a dangerous one, and his thoughts turned to Caryn. Where was she? And, would she know enough to seek shelter until the storm was over?

  Logan continued to ask himself the same questions three hours later, as he sat in the family room with a sleeping Domino at his feet. The puppy had yelped and whined incessantly until he released him from his cage. It was apparent the sound of the howling wind frightened the dog so much, he refused to relax.

  The light from a table lamp flickered twice, but managed not to go out. An all-news radio station offered a storm update every fifteen minutes, warning all residents along the coast to seek shelter. A police bulletin followed with reports of flooding and power outages up and down the Carolina coast.