Carolina Home

by Virginia Kantra

  “The Kellers’ daughter Lisa has a couple of kids around Taylor’s age. She invited Taylor to tour the lighthouse with them.” Meg shot Allison a droll look. “Apparently she felt having an outsider along would stop her kids from fighting.”

  “Oh, yes,” Allison murmured. “Because that always works.”

  Meg grinned. “Hey, I’ve already admitted I was awful. In my defense, I was trying to protect my brother. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

  Family was a big part of who Matt was. The man Allison wanted, the man she loved. If she took him on, she realized, she’d also be taking on his entire family: Josh, Matt’s parents, his brother and sister, his niece.

  That future she had envisioned, waiting like a bright island on the horizon, suddenly got more crowded. And more complicated.

  “Okay, I respect that,” Allison said. “Actually, I envy you. I wish I had that kind of relationship with my own brother. But Matt can take care of himself.”

  “Himself and everybody else. Which is part of the problem.”

  Allison thought of Matt rescuing her by the side of the road, rubbing her feet, filling her gas tank. Matt, with his slow, rare smile, making her come. Making her happy.

  “How is that a problem?”

  Meg set down her mug. “Look, you seem like a nice person. You obviously care about Matt. But he’s thirty-six years old. He knows who he is and where he belongs. His family is here. His roots are here. You, on the other hand, are what, twenty-three?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Okay. Not to sound condescending or anything, but you’re young. You’re still finding yourself. You’ve got things to do, places to go. You’re not going to want to spend the rest of your life on Dare Island. I sure didn’t.”

  “That doesn’t mean I won’t.”

  “What’s keeping you?”

  Allison’s heart beat faster. “You mean, besides Matt?”

  Meg’s gaze was shrewd and not unkind. “I know my brother. Has he ever once asked you to stay?”

  The coffee cake in Allison’s mouth was dry as dust. “We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks. It’s a little soon to be talking commitment, don’t you think?”

  “With Matt, it’s always too soon. Commitment is not his strong suit.”

  Allison swallowed. “He’s committed to his family.”

  “Exactly. He’s never made room for anyone else.”

  “He must have once,” Allison objected.

  Meg looked at her blankly.

  “He was married,” she explained.

  “At nineteen. To a girl like you. Nice girl, nice clothes, nice family.” Meg grimaced. “Okay, maybe Kimberly wasn’t so nice. But you’re the same basic model—blond, smart, sure of yourself. One thing you can say about my brother, he’s consistent.”

  That sounded terrible, Allison thought. It sounded…

  Her stomach hollowed.

  True.

  Sixteen

  MATT SQUATTED BESIDE the Harley to change the front brake pads, absorbing the quiet along with the tang of grease and metal.

  Taylor perched on a bench, looking up every now and then from her homework.

  I’m old enough to look after myself, she’d said this morning when he had announced his intention of picking her up after school. I’ve done it before. Mom gave me my own key.

  Maybe.

  But he didn’t like the idea of her being home alone. She was safe here. The kids on Dare still ran free, roaming wild like the island ponies, the older ones looking out for the younger. But Taylor was so…little compared to Josh, small and female, vulnerable in ways he was only beginning to understand and didn’t know how to deal with.

  Matt popped off the brake clips.

  God, he wished Allison was here. She would know what to do. What to say.

  They’d barely seen each other the past couple of days. He was busy, she was busy, and when they did get together there were always other things, other people around, demanding his attention. Not much fun for her.

  The problem was, he’d gotten used to her being there at the end of his day. Not that he needed to dump on her, exactly. He had other people around to talk to. If he wanted to swap stories, he could go down to the tackle shop. But he missed their conversations, missed sharing something besides the weather, the latest fishing quotas, or sports scores. Missed seeing Allison’s face, hearing her enthusiasm as she talked about her students or the island.

  He missed sex.

  Allison, bless her, didn’t complain. Maybe she was okay with the idea of taking things easy for a while. Maybe she didn’t ache for him the way he ached for her.

  The thought didn’t make him feel any better.

  Couldn’t be helped, Matt told himself as he reached for the brake cleaner. He’d gone a damn sight longer than this without sex before. Occasional abstinence was part of being a dad, especially a single dad, like colic or fourth grade science projects or taking your kid to the dentist, something you got through with as much humor and patience as you could muster.

  He shook the can as Taylor watched silently from the bench.

  She’s too quiet, Meg had said before she left for Greenville yesterday morning.

  More than anything, Taylor needs to know that she can confide in you. That she doesn’t have to deal with whatever’s bothering her alone, Allison had told him the other night.

  He didn’t know what the hell to say to her. But maybe he didn’t need to talk. Maybe he could just listen.

  He sprayed brake cleaner until it ran dripping onto the newspaper under the bike. “How you doing, kid?”

  “Fine.”

  Good. Except he had a feeling Allison would expect him to ask more. He scrubbed at the brakes with a toothbrush. “Everything okay at school?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Is there, uh, anything you want to tell me?”

  Taylor narrowed her eyes. “Am I in trouble?”

  That surprised a half smile from him. “Nope. Not at all. I just thought…Anything bothering you? Anybody bothering you?”

  She shook her head.

  Right. He scrubbed harder. “Because you know you can talk to me anytime.”

  “Okay.”

  “About anything.”

  She gave him a dubious look.

  He didn’t blame her. He tried again. “Or if you maybe wanted to talk to somebody at school…”

  “I don’t talk to the kids at school.”

  Matt filed that one away under Things to Deal With Another Time. “Not a kid. Another grown-up.”

  “You mean Allison?”

  Allison would be good. She was smart and caring and female. She would know instinctively the right things to say to a little girl. She sure as hell wouldn’t be fumbling with the brakes, searching for words.

  Matt shook his head. Taylor was his responsibility. His brother’s child. And right now, with Luke in Afghanistan and Tess in the hospital, Matt was all Taylor had.

  “I was thinking more like a guidance counselor.” Or a psychologist, like his ex-wife. He winced. Not that trying to talk to Kimberly had ever done Josh a damn bit of good.

  “I knew I was in trouble,” Taylor said darkly.

  Matt grinned as he slid the clip from the brake reservoir. “No, you’re not. I just thought maybe you’d like to talk to somebody about your feelings and sh—stuff.”

  “No.”

  He sighed. “Just think about it, okay?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He wrapped a rag around the reservoir, wishing little girls came with an owner’s manual, a set of simple diagrammed instructions.

  “Why do you do that?” she asked.

  “In case it expands and leaks.” Machines, he could talk about. “Brake fluid’s corrosive. You don’t want to touch it with your hands.”

  “Oh.”

  He pushed in the pistons with two fingers and reached for a new brake pad. Too bad Taylor’s problems weren’t the kind you could fix with a set of
tools.

  “Can I help?”

  He looked up. She perched on the bench, her head to one side, watching him with bright, cautious expectation. Like she was a pelican and he was cleaning fish.

  Scraps. The kid was hungry for scraps of attention. Affection. His throat closed. She deserved more than that from him. From all of them.

  He swallowed hard. “Sure. Bring over that can of anti-seize.”

  He showed her how to put anti-seize on the pins, line up the holes, and snug down the bolts. And then they did the whole thing over again on the other side.

  “You’ve got to pump the lever, see?” He reached around her to demonstrate. Her hair had that little kid smell, a compound of sweat, sunshine, and shampoo that reminded him of Josh’s baby years. “To engage the pistons.”

  She nodded and squeezed the brakes, her little face squinched with concentration, her tongue between her teeth.

  “Do you ever actually ride that motorcycle?” Allison asked from the shed door, her voice rich with amusement. “Or do you just use it to impress women with your mechanical competence?”

  Matt turned his head. Allison stood in the doorway, her big brown eyes warm and alight, so beautiful that for a moment he forgot to breathe. He exhaled slowly. “I thought you had a thing, meeting, after school today.”

  She nodded. “Student newspaper.”

  Taylor hopped to her feet. “Hey, Allison.”

  “Hi, sweetie. The graphics art club needed the computer lab,” she said to Matt. “So I dismissed the kids early to work on their individual projects. I told Josh if he and Thalia wanted to work here I’d buy them pizza.”

  “Thalia Hamilton? The organic farmers’ kid?”

  “Josh and Thalia are writing an article on optimizing athletic performance through diet.”

  “Over pizza.” He was amused.

  Her answering smile revealed her teeth, white and even. “I am not above bribery. Anyway, that’s three food groups, dairy, grains, vegetables. Want some pizza?” she asked Taylor.

  “Do I have to eat the vegetables?”

  “Only in tomato sauce.”

  “Okay.”

  “Go see Josh. He’ll hook you up.” Allison’s gaze met Matt’s. “If you’re done here.”

  “We put on new brake pads,” Taylor said proudly.

  “I can see that,” Allison said. “They look very…”

  “Safe,” Matt supplied, smiling.

  “Thank you. Very safe.”

  Taylor looked at him from under her cap. “Are we done, Uncle Matt?”

  If she were Josh at that age, he’d have ruffled her hair, maybe given her a hug. He tapped the brim of her cap instead. “For now. We’ll do the rear brakes next time.”

  His heart squeezed at the doubtful look in her eyes. What did she think? That he would bail on her? Too many adults in her life had done that.

  “Unless you don’t want to,” he added.

  She shook her head so vigorously her cap almost came off.

  He smiled at her. “So what’s the problem?”

  “No problem.” Her answering smile, shy and crooked, snagged in his chest like a fishhook. “Can I have pizza now?”

  “You bet. You earned it. Good job, kid.”

  “Thanks.” She hopped toward the door.

  “Okay if your uncle Matt and I go out for a little while?” Allison asked.

  Taylor paused on one foot, looking back. “On the motorcycle?”

  “Maybe,” Allison said.

  “Sure.” Another lightning grin. “More pizza for me.”

  She ran off.

  Matt rose slowly to his feet, feeling the pull in his thighs and his shoulders. “I thought you were seeing your parents tonight.”

  Allison watched Taylor skip up the steps and bang through the back door of the cottage. “We didn’t make any firm plans. I can’t drop everything on a school night to drive three hours into Wilmington and three hours home. I’m totally free and off the clock. Now you are, too.” She turned back to him and smiled, making his blood run hot. “Thalia offered to help Josh babysit.”

  Matt hooked his thumbs into his jeans pockets. “Why would she do that?”

  “Well, if the pizza wasn’t sufficient inducement, I’m guessing she wanted to spend time with your son.”

  His brows rose. “And you figured Josh’s love life could use a push.”

  Her cheeks turned as pink as her shirt. “Actually, I thought ours could.”

  His brain shifted gear as his blood went from simmer to boil. “You did.”

  “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.” She stepped up to him, her breasts almost touching his chest. Her scent, vanilla and spice, punched him in the lungs. “Want to take me for a ride?”

  He rested his hands on her hips. “Baby,” he promised hoarsely, “I will take you anywhere you want to go.”

  Her smile bloomed. She looped her arms around his neck, pressing all that soft warmth against him, making his heart pound. “How about my place?”

  Heat hazed his brain. But he couldn’t just disappear with her for an hour and get naked. He had responsibilities.

  He inhaled. “I should probably…You sure the kids are okay?”

  “Mm.” She kissed his neck. “Thalia has four younger brothers and sisters. I think she can keep Taylor in line.”

  Taylor.

  “I talked to her,” he said.

  “I saw.” Her hair tickled his jaw.

  “It didn’t do any good,” he confessed. “She won’t tell me what’s bothering her, and she doesn’t want to see a counselor.”

  Allison raised her head. “There’s more than one way to communicate, Matt. Taylor is obviously coming to trust you. I’d say you’re doing fine.”

  Her approval, her optimism, made him feel good. So did the way she rested her weight against him, her breasts, belly, thighs.

  He cleared his throat. “What about Josh?”

  Teenagers and an empty house were not a good combination. He’d been a teenager. He knew.

  Allison looked him in the eye. “Josh and Thalia are not a couple. Anyway, he’s your son. Do you really think he would try something with Taylor right there?”

  “No,” Matt admitted.

  “All right, then. I figure we have almost two hours before dinner. I say we make the most of it.”

  He could do that. No promises, no commitments, just making the most of whatever time they had.

  Even if it was no more than an hour stolen from the rest of his life.

  He handed her a helmet and then showed her how to put it on. He jumped the start and flexed his wrist, and the bike roared and rattled to life. Allison slid on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  The afternoon was soft and bright. The air rushed at them, rich with salt and sharp with juniper. The bike thrummed and throbbed, the black road unspooling, the landscape sliding away, as if he were eighteen and free and had everything ahead of him.

  He knew the freedom was only an illusion, of course. But it felt good to travel the road with Allison pressed against him, leaning into him on the curves.

  ALLISON STRETCHED BETWEEN her sheets, basking in sunshine and contentment, as warm and melty as butter on pancakes, watching Matt step over their discarded clothes on his way to the bathroom.

  “Nice butt,” she called.

  He turned his head, all the lines smoothed from his brow, his smile cracking across his lean, stubbled face, and her breath actually caught, he was so beautiful. What they had shared was beautiful.

  Meg was wrong.

  Matt did care about her, this was special, she was different from all his other women. He couldn’t touch her like that, be with her like this, and not care.

  And to hell with all the women in literature and throughout history who had probably told themselves the same thing.

  She lay there listening to the sound of running water, shivering a little with longing and regret, because the past hour had been wonderful, nothi
ng in the world was as wonderful as making love with Matt and now, for now, it was over.

  He came out of her bathroom, naked, broad and solid and unself-conscious, and she melted some more.

  He picked up his jeans.

  Oh, well. She sat up.

  “You don’t have to get up,” he said.

  She glanced at her bedside clock. Five thirty. “Yeah, I do. I doubt the kids left enough pizza for dinner.”

  “Meg made a stew. Yesterday, before she left for Greenville. I’ll heat some up.”

  Oh.

  Allison plucked at the sheet, mentally regrouping. “Have you talked to her? How’s your mom?”

  Matt’s head disappeared briefly inside his shirt as he tugged it over his head. “Mom’s doing good. They removed the chest tube today. As long as her chest cavity stays clear, they should be able to move her to a step-down unit tomorrow.”

  He sounded distracted. He hadn’t yet put on his shoes, but with every word she felt him drawing away, going away from her in his mind.

  She struggled to follow. “Does that mean Meg will go back to New York?”

  “She has to. She’s got stuff to do. Work stuff.”

  So do you, Allison thought. “I hope she’ll take a little time for herself.”

  “Not much chance of that.”

  “She mentioned things were busy at the office. But it’s not going to help her to pile on more stress. Ultimately, she needs a balanced life. We all do. You, me, everyone.”

  “You sound like a guidance counselor.”

  Allison refused to be offended. “Does that bother you?”

  “No.” He looked away. “Maybe. My family’s not some project, Allison.”

  “Of course not.” But she needed to make Matt see that his sister wasn’t the only one who needed some time to process her feelings, to regain some balance in her life. She tried again. “I’m just saying it may benefit Meg to get back to her normal routine, but she also needs some space. You know, to deal with everything that’s been going on.”

  Matt sat—not next to Allison on the bed, but in a chair across the room—to pull on his socks.

  Okay, so he didn’t want to talk about his sister or his feelings or his family’s trauma.

  Not a problem.

  Allison threw back the sheet. “Give me five minutes to shower, and I’ll come with you.”