“Why not?” Johnny slid his fingers over hers and closed them around her hand.
“I might see some…uh…undressed ladies.”
“Doubt it would be your first time, Drake.”
“It would with these women,” he snickered.
“It’s up to you. Afraid to have your wife with us studs, Drakie?” Johnny mocked.
“Some studs. Dirty towels everywhere, drunk guys sleeping on the floor. She’d love it…not!”
The three rose from their towels and shook them out. They headed back to the house. Drake and John were lost in discussion about dinner, who was coming that night, who had planned to arrive the next morning, and the logistics for the parties they had planned.
Dorrie hung back slightly, listening to the sound of the crashing waves and breathing in the fresh, salty air. Whatever happens, it’s healing just to be here, near the ocean. She smiled, feeling calmer than she had in a long time as she trudged through the sand, back to the small house she’d call home for the weekend.
Chapter Five
When Dorrie turned left onto her street, she was met with a whirlwind of people. Gone was the quiet she’d relished just two hours before. She sighed and entered, steeling herself for a raucous time of reunion mixed with partying. A few new folks arrived while the guys already there mixed a lethal potion of alcohol and juice in a new, clean bucket. Two women were building a huge, six-foot hero for dinner. Guess tonight’s party is at our house.
Allie and Mary had arrived. Bella was due early Saturday morning. Dorrie knew Mary had had a thing for Johnny five years ago and wondered if she still did. Hell, if I still have a crush, she probably does, too. It doesn’t matter though. Because there will be a ton of new ladies here for Johnny to conquer. Forget it.
Dorrie hated that her thoughts turned to gloom on such a lovely night. She ate her sandwich, listening to Mary brag about her latest promotion. Allie was unpacking. After the food was gone, the heat from the crowd drove Dorrie outside, accompanied by a glass of the multi-liquored punch. She perched on the two front steps, trying to clear her mind and simply enjoy the slight breeze cooling her off.
Drake came by with Chrissy, who had decided to bunk in with him. The talk got more rowdy as the punch disappeared. Drunk people are loud and loose. Did I used to be like that? Probably.
Dorrie had not been able to sweep Johnny from her thoughts or her senses. His allure was stronger than ever. She wanted him but didn’t want to compete with every woman there for his attention. Dejú vu. Why are you sitting here wallowing, allowing Johnny to do this to you again? Get out there. Meet someone else. There are a ton of guys here.
Slowly she arose, drink in hand and started toward the only bar on that part of the island.
“Hey! Where you goin’? The party’s the other way.” It was Johnny, approaching her. He’d obviously gotten some sun that afternoon as he had a light tan and a little burn on his nose. He wore a red T-shirt, which highlighted his dark good looks and his bathing suit. Bathing suits were worn all the time on Fire Island since you never knew when you’d hit the beach. He looks so good.
“Same old, same old,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“Not for five years! Come on. Join the party.” He grabbed her elbow and steered her back inside.
“John! Drake told me you were going to be here, but I didn’t believe him. How are you?” Mary sashayed over to Johnny, rubbing up against his arm. He smiled at her and moved away slightly. Dorrie thought she’d throw up.
“Fine, Mary. How’s it hangin’?”
“Why don’t you show me how it’s hangin’, John?”
Mary grabbed his arm and led him over to the sofa. He turned to make a face and shrug at Dorrie. Damn him! Effing flirt! She threw a fake smile back at him and walked out of the house, straight down to The Ocean Tavern three blocks away.
The music blared from the bar, cutting through the quiet of the island where there were no cars, no traffic, no sirens, nothing but human voices and the cries of seagulls to disturb the peace. It’s rockin’. Might be up for a dance or two. She pushed through the saloon-style doors and entered a large room with people dancing while others sat or stood at the bar, drinking. Beer seemed to be the drink of choice among the Tavern’s clientele.
Twenty and thirty-something men and women in bare feet and bathing suits drank and danced. Dorrie got several looks and smiles from men as she walked up to the bar. One man she suspected of being younger than her thirty years, got up to give her his seat.
“You can sit here, darlin’, if you let me buy you a drink.”
Dorrie chuckled at his transparent pick-up line. “Sure. I’d be honored,” she said.
“Watcha drinkin’, beautiful?”
“White wine.” The young man signaled the bartender and ordered, but the noise level prevented her from hearing what he said.
“Name’s Mike.” He leaned over to speak close to her and offered her his hand in a hearty shake. She slid her bottom onto the barstool and smiled warmly at him. A gentleman, perhaps? How rare. Am I a cynic?
Dorrie toyed with a pretzel from the bowl on the bar with one hand and held a glass of white wine in the other. Mike regaled her with a tale of his week in Fair Harbor, and Dorrie listened with only half an ear. He wasn’t much of a replacement for Johnny.
“After our fourth case of beer, we decided to go bodysurfing at midnight…”
Mike droned on. Dorrie tried to look interested. Another story about a guy being drunk and stupid. I thought these stopped at twenty-five. Then it hit her. He was twenty-five. A giggle bubbled up in her chest and refused to go away. I’m a cougar at thirty? She laughed aloud.
“That wasn’t the funny part. Are you listening?”
“I’m older than you.”
“Yeah? So? I love older women. They like to teach…I’m a good student.” He wiggled his eyebrows, causing Dorrie to double over.
“You think I’m going to show you…teach you…how to be a great lover for a glass of wine?”
“Maybe two or three?”
Dorrie laughed harder.
“Lots of women like younger men. What’s wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with her, which is why she prefers me to you. Run along, it’s time for your nap.” Dorrie turned at the familiar, deep voice to see Johnny standing behind her, wearing a white wife beater, a bathing suit, and a stern expression.
“How many times have I told you not to go out and pick up boys? You’ll get arrested. I think he’s jail bait.” Mike scowled, his hands fisting at his sides.
Dorrie, still chuckling, though trying to stop, put a hand on the young man’s arm. “Oh, please don’t…don’t get your nose broken on account of me. I’m not worth it. Trust me.” Johnny could take him in a second.
John took her hand and eased her off the stool. She placed her half-empty glass on the bar. He raised his hand in a wave to Mike while escorting Dorrie out the front door. Once they were outside, his cool manner dissolved. “What the hell were you doing?”
“Talking to a younger guy. So?”
“You can get into a lot of trouble that way.”
“You think he’d hurt me? Nah. He was a nice guy. A little immature perhaps, but harmless.”
“You don’t know that. Come on. People are asking for you.” His grip on her hand tightened.
“What about you?”
“I don’t have to ask after you. I know where you are. And you’re coming with me.”
“Says who?” She yanked her hand from his and rested it on her hip. “What about Mary? Won’t she be jealous?” What am I doing?
“The only one who’s jealous here is you,” he quipped, his eyes dancing with mischief.
“You think so? I’d say the one who was jealous was you…back there in the bar.” She stared boldly at him.
“So?” He cocked his eyebrow.
His admission stopped her cold. She had no comeback. He pulled her close and tightened his arms a
round her. “We’re going to finish it between us this weekend, hear? Been stewing for five years. Time to play it out, Dorrie,” he whispered fiercely in her ear.
She pushed away from him, trying to calm the wild beating of her heart. “There’s nothing to play out. You made it very clear where I stood five years ago.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. If there’s nothing between us, what are you doing here? Attending a reunion of people you don’t even like?”
He had her there, and silence was her only response. They stood glaring at each other in the moonlight until she tugged on him, and headed back to the house.
“Let’s go. Finish this later. I’m hungry. Any food left?”
He slipped his arm around her shoulders, and they fell into step.
* * * *
When they returned, the party had wound down for dinner. Johnny laced his fingers with hers as they made their way through the crowd. Dorrie greeted people she hadn’t seen in years. The enthusiasm of her old friends buoyed her spirits. Johnny shook hands while Dorrie exchanged hugs with the old gang.
The sound of the flimsy screen door banging shut every few minutes marked the frequent comings and goings of the men and women at the reunion. Beer was spilled on the front steps and made small wet spots in the grass, where it was immediately sucked up by the dry sand in what passed for a front yard.
Because they rarely ate before nine, Mary had whipped up a huge bowl of her famous spaghetti. Handsome guys and pretty ladies were sitting on chairs, the sofa, and even cross-legged on the floor, consuming bowl after bowl of the tasty pasta.
Empty cardboard holders for four cases of beer were already stacked up by the garbage. Dorrie helped herself to a plate then got one for Johnny, too. He nabbed the last two beers from case number five. They met on the front steps.
“Too hot, too many people in there,” she said, offering him food then plopping down next to him. He twisted the tops off both bottles then handed one to her. They ate in silence. Dorrie stared up at the stars twinkling for all they were worth in the clear sky.
“No stars in L.A. Too much smog. New York either. No stars. Beautiful.” She smiled and took a deep breath. “Damn. Fresh air, too. My lungs aren’t used to this.”
“So what really happened after you left here?”
“Huh?”
“I mean to your engagement, your life.” Johnny twirled some spaghetti on his fork.
“I told you.” The moonlight cast shadows on his face, highlighting his strong jaw and sensuous lips, lips she wanted to taste again.
“Details.”
“Gunther was a producer on the movie I was going to dance in. We met, started going out. He swept me off my feet. He’s rich, and the lifestyle was…awesome, to say the least. Limos, expensive restaurants, house on the beach, weekends in Mexico.” Her gaze searched his face, half hidden in darkness. Could he really be interested in this? Still, he was listening intently, appearing to hang on every word.
“You fell for him or the lifestyle?”
“Him first. He was the most charming, attentive man. Smart. Knows everything about the movie business…and everyone in it. We were going to be an unbeatable team. Make movies together, him producing, me starring, dancing… conquer the world.” She gestured with her free hand. “I was his new find.”
“And?” He sucked on his beer.
“I fell down the back stairs at his beach house. Broke my ankle.”
“No more dancing?”
She shook her head. “Couldn’t do the movie, and my career was finished.” Johnny licked some beer off his bottom lip. The gesture made her stomach go weak.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing. He nursed me for a short time. Let me stay in the house for a couple of weeks. When I got well enough, I moved out and began teaching yoga and dance. He coughed up six-months rent for a studio.”
She stopped. The memory of the pain, physical and emotional, when she had had to give up dance tore through her chest again. She blinked back tears.
“That must’ve been tough.” Johnny took her hand.
“Dance was all I ever wanted to do. And the movies… my ultimate dream.”
“So what happened to this Gunther guy?” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand.
“He waited until I was set up…had some clients and was earning enough to rent a small apartment. Then he dumped me. Explained how his plans didn’t include a yoga instructor. Only a star. He let me keep the ring, which I sold to pay for groceries when I moved out.”
“That was harsh. I’d never do that.” He put the last forkful of spaghetti in his mouth.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “No? No, you’d dump me before I even broke my ankle.”
“Wait a minute! I never dumped you. You dumped me!”
“What? That’s the craziest thing…” Her eyebrows shot up. She turned to face him.
“It’s the truth. Admit it, Dorrie.”
The screen door was pushed open, and Mary came out. “Here you are! I’ve been looking all over for you, Johnny! Dorrie hogging you again? Figures.” She made a sour face then smiled at him.
Dorrie turned her gaze to her food and twirled some pasta onto her fork. She downed the last of her beer and stood up. “Great spaghetti, Mary, as always. Thanks.” She shot a glance at Johnny then pulled open the door and went inside. After washing out her dish plus her beer bottle, she grabbed a big towel and headed outside again. Mary was sitting near Johnny. He appeared to be listening closely to her.
“And there just aren’t any guys like you in Texas, Johnny…”
He looked up when Dorrie pushed by them and strode up the narrow walk to the wood path. She turned right, headed for the beach.
“Dorrie, wait—” Johnny pushed to his feet.
“Don’t let me interrupt anything.” She raised her hand in response then continued walking briskly on her way.
“That’s okay. Let her go,” Mary said. “So, what have you been up to? Got a girlfriend?”
Their conversation, so loud in contrast to the quiet of the island, began to fade as she neared the ocean and the roar of the waves crashing into shore drowned out Mary’s nasal voice. She hauled herself up the steps then spread the towel out on the dunes. Sitting with her knees against her chest, Dorrie rested her arms there and took a breath. Wish I’d brought a sweater.
“Shit.” Yeah, he’s still in my blood. Some deep breathing returned her heart rate to normal. He looked so gorgeous sitting there. And listening. God, I wanted to jump him. It’s so sexy when a man listens. Then Mary comes out, and it starts all over again. Still, I want him. He doesn’t have a clue about what happened. I have to tell him, or this is a total waste of time.
“Still the loner?” A deep voice startled Dorrie. She jumped.
“Crap! You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry,” Johnny said, lowering himself next to her.
“Where’s Mary?”
“The music is on, and they’re dancing. Come back and dance.” He pushed to his feet.
Dorrie shook her head. And watch you bump and grind with every girl in the joint? I don’t think so.
“You’re the best dancer in the group.” He held out his hand.
“Ya think?”
Johnny took her hand. “Come on. You didn’t come here to be gloomy and alone. You came to have fun. No sulking.”
“We’ve got to talk.”
“Not tonight. Tonight is…hell, it’s T.G.I.F., ya know?”
She stood. “Yeah, I know.”
“How about we make a date to meet here tomorrow night, say ten?”
“Perfect. The house will be rocking.”
“Until then, can we put all this shit aside and just have a good time?”
“Guess so.”
The rhythm of a favorite song drifted toward them as they descended the stairs. Johnny went first then lifted her down the steep last two steps. She fell against his chest, where he hel
d her until he recovered his footing.
“Damn stairs,” he mumbled.
His body was warm, chasing away the chill making her shiver a moment ago. She longed to stay in his arms, maybe forever. He smelled of a fresh shower, soap, and a slight aroma of beer. He stroked her hair as his mouth lowered to hers. The beat of the music seeped into her blood, along with runaway desire, unleashed by his lips. John Flanagan can still kiss.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders as his hand slipped down to squeeze her behind. His tongue gained entrance almost immediately and danced with hers. His fingers glided up to her hips and slowly eased them away from his.
“If we don’t stop…”he said, pausing to catch his breath.
“Yeah.” She stepped back half a step, but still the heat from him warmed her. He reached out and cupped her cheek. Alarm bells went off in her head. Don’t! Don’t be tender with me. Don’t. I can’t fight that. That’s what happened before. I can’t, I can’t. She eased his hand down off her face and moved toward the path. He followed behind.
Mary, Maureen, and Alice were waiting on the steps when they arrived.
“Where the hell have you been? Doing it on the beach?”
Dorrie rolled her eyes at John as he opened the door. “Calm down, Mary. We’re back.”
“Dance with me, Johnny.”
“Sure, sure. Just let me get a beer.”
“I’m next,” Maureen, a redhead from next door, piped up.
“Take a number, ladies. The night is young,” Johnny chuckled as he followed Dorrie inside.
Exactly what I was afraid of. Damn.
The screen door slammed shut and the steps were again unoccupied.
* * * *
The day usually started a bit overcast at six o’clock on Fire Island. But the clouds burned off by nine, leaving a brilliant, burning heat and clear, blue skies. Saturday was a typical day, beckoning the sun-worshipers and body surfers to the beach with a cool breeze early in the day.
Johnny was the first one up in his house. He put up a pot of coffee then took a cup with him as he ventured out into the fresh morning air. The sun was up and already growing fierce, forcing him to don a baseball cap. He strolled aimlessly, he thought, unaware his feet had decided he needed to be at Dorrie’s house.
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