Truth be told though, it had felt damn good to tell someone, to finally get the secret he’d been holding back out in the open.
Restless, he decided to take a walk and watch the sun go down over the water.
He stayed at the cove until well past dark until a couple from Fresno looking for their own little chunk of solitude intruded on his turf. He should have gone into town for a drink at The Pointe or a beer at McCready’s. But after putting in another tough week supervising two crews, he’d needed to clear his head. He especially needed to decide what he wanted to do about Kinsey Wyatt, other than getting her horizontal.
On the walk back up to the house, he made his decision.
Around quarter to twelve, Logan sat on the steps leading up to Kinsey’s apartment waiting for her to come home. He heard her old car chug up the long driveway as if on its last leg. He knew for a fact Wally had done what he could to keep the heap running. But when he heard the squeal of her brakes near the side of the garage, alerting everyone to her arrival, the sound reminded him the Nissan needed to be replaced with a newer car. The stretch of road between the city limits and Promise Cove was unlit and remote. He didn’t like the idea that she made the trip late at night alone three times a week in a car that could easily break down if you happened to so much as look at it the wrong way.
The sound of her heels tapping on the pavement as she made her way to the stairs allowed him to know the minute she spotted him. He saw her eyes go wide.
“You weren’t at the restaurant tonight.”
“No.” He held up his wrist.
Her jaw dropped open. “You didn’t say a word about getting your cast off.”
“That’s because I’ve been there twice already and both times they had to recast it. I wasn’t sure this time either so I kept it to myself. Kinsey?”
“What?”
“Come sit down. Get off your feet.”
“Logan, I’ve been sitting for hours. I thought I’d put my stuff up and take a much-needed walk on the beach to relax.”
He moved his legs aside and said, “Then run up and do that. I’ll wait here.” He watched as she dashed upstairs as energetic as she’d been at breakfast two days before.
When she came back, without sitting down, she reached out to touch his hand, the one that had been covered up ever since she’d met him. She felt along the jagged skin. “I love your hands.” She kissed the palm brought it to her cheek.
“I love your eyes. They’re so trusting, so honest.”
“Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m all moved in. My bed even has fresh sheets on it.” So much for not throwing herself at him. But she could only curb her hunger for so long.
He pushed off the step and was in front of her in long strides, tugging her back up the stairs. He pulled her through the open studio door, shoved it closed. Reaching out, he ran one long, lean finger down her cheek. “I’ve wanted to get you out of this dress ever since I first saw you wearing it.”
“So who’s stopping you?”
With that, he whirled her around, ran the zipper down, stretched the fabric back and off her shoulders. Kinsey wiggled free until it fell around her feet. She turned to face him, standing before him in a black bra and thong.
He yanked her up against his chest, heard her sharp intake of breath as anticipation stretched out between them. He backed her up toward that old urn top Maplewood.
Running her hands under his Tee shirt, she pulled it off over his head. She raked her nails through all that hair while her mouth sucked along his throat. Her fingers wandered down to the top of his jeans. She heard the low growl hum in his throat.
“Not yet. Just looking at you right now, I’m about to pop out of these as it is. We’re going to take this as slow as I can manage it, which means…we’re taking care of you first.” He moved in, covered her mouth at the same time his hands gripped her rear end, lifted her up off the floor.
She wrapped long legs around his waist, threw her arms around his shoulders.
The first assault was all teasing and tasting. They ate at each other, taking ravenous bites until his fingers roamed back, unhooked the bra. He used one hand to travel downward to the silky stretch of fabric that was left, tearing at the flimsy lace, ripping it off in one strong snap.
They fell back on the bed.
His thumb found a pebble-hard nipple. He lowered his mouth to it, took a slow turn at feasting on one breast, then the other. He slicked his tongue along her belly, grazed on a satiny thigh. But nibbling only made him hungry for more. There was tender flesh to sample, gentle brushstrokes meant to explore every curve and fold. Nips lingered and had her hips rising off the mattress. The little quivers whipped along until pleasure flooded her.
Even as the tremors played out, she reached for him. In the whole of her life, she couldn’t ever remember wanting anyone more.
He toed off his shoes, unsnapped his jeans to twist out of them.
“Hurry,” Kinsey urged, breathless and impatient. She wanted to feel him on her, in her.
He inched back up her body, kissed flat belly, and used his lips to caress soft skin. He covered her mouth again.
At the same time, she reached down to stroke, wanting to give back a measure of what he’d given her. But her touch brought out a guttural growl from his throat again. She saw his eyes darken, saw the yearning to mate snap and bend. She brought him into her in a frenzied rush, the joining, hot and tight. When his hair draped down in a curtain around her face, she smoothed it back so she could see his eyes.
“Kinsey.”
“Logan.”
He brought her arms up and over her head. They locked hands. Her legs went around his waist. They took each other as fast, hot flares rose up between them. Damp skin to damp skin, need raced along like whitecaps rushing to shore.
They let the current take them on a fast ride in a slick froth of fiery gold and deep blues. They soared up together, first into, and through the curl. Release simmered on the edge until the wave finally crashed and allowed that complete slide into the drowning bliss.
He wasn’t sure he could move. Not since high school had he been quite so desperate. He needed his breath back so he could say something, anything. It didn’t surprise him she was the first to speak. “That was—”
“Quick?” he finished with a wide grin.
She let go a rolling laugh from deep in the belly. “That too. But I was going to say…worth the wait.”
“Ah. Yeah. I’m having trouble moving just now.” He touched her cheek, placed a tender kiss on her mouth before moving off her.
They lay side by side until he reached for her and she snuggled into his chest. “I’m exhausted, Logan. If I don’t get some sleep…”
He stroked her hair, brought her further into him. “Then sleep. Morning will come too soon.”
Logan was right. It seemed like she’d no more than closed her eyes than the alarm buzzed at six-thirty. Beside her, the man lifted his head without even opening his eyes and then let it fall back down into the pillows.
She patted his chest, wishing she had time to nibble and taste along those pecs. “Stay in bed. If I could I would. But I’ve got to take a shower before heading to Murphy’s.” Rolling from underneath the warm comforter, she made a mad dash to the bathroom to pee and turn on the water.
Kinsey had the drill down to a fine art. She knew exactly how many minutes she could spend in the shower without running late, exactly how long it would take her to get into town, barring any problems or interruptions to the norm.
When Logan yanked back the curtain, she let out a shriek that she was sure could be heard all the way to the main house. Without saying a word, he stepped under the stream of water, nipped her around the waist to assault her mouth, all in one deft motion. She inched up his body until he picked her up, cupped her rear end.
Eyeing that look on his face, Kinsey knew the norm as she’d known it had blessedly just come to an end.
When he backed her up against the tile for leverage, when his hard body made use of hers, she decided for this kind of interruption to her routine, she’d gladly show up a little late to work.
To hell with everyone else.
Chapter Fifteen
Main Street was packed with tourists who’d gotten an early start to the weekend. The slotted spaces had all been taken. Even at this early hour, pedestrians filled the sidewalks. Some poured out of the Diner where they’d probably just eaten breakfast, or streamed out of the drugstore where they’d more than likely loaded up on their day’s supply of suntan lotion.
Kinsey noticed another group on foot walking toward Ocean Street either heading for the old wooden pier or the beach. Since most of them carried coolers, umbrellas, lawn chairs, and towels, her bet was they planned on scoring the perfect spot of sand early on with no plans of moving any time soon.
By the time Kinsey found a place to park, she clocked in at Murphy’s with a scant two minutes to spare. The look Murphy gave her seemed to say he knew why she was late and what she’d been doing just thirty minutes prior to showing up.
It was possible she wore some kind of sign indicating she’d gotten laid after a year-long drought. She certainly felt looser…more relaxed than she had in a long time. So it probably showed on her face that she’d had two bouts of sex within a span of eight hours, a record for her.
As she counted out the money for her cash drawer, Kinsey’s mind wandered. She couldn’t help it. Had she ever had sex like that before? Had she ever been tempted to tell a man she loved him? The answer to both those questions was a resounding no. It was ridiculous to even entertain that kind of thinking since most of the time she didn’t even understand the man’s moods. But who could think with reason and logic when he knew how to do all manner of things with that skillful mouth of his. When a few beachgoers streamed through the door, she wished she’d remembered to ask Logan how he’d planned to spend his day off without her.
As she rang up a woman buying a six pack of beer along with bottles of water and juice, Kinsey wondered how soon it would be before she got a repeat performance from Logan.
Logan hadn’t gone far. He’d driven to the site to take a third set of measurements on the non-bearing wall they intended to knock down to make certain he’d ordered enough materials. It wouldn’t do to run short. But he needn’t have bothered. He spotted young Troy doing the same thing. Was the kid just dedicated or was something else going on?
“I know payday was yesterday. I know because I signed the checks. I’m pretty sure I’m not old enough to get absent-minded yet. But I don’t remember agreeing to pay you double time to show up on Saturday,” Logan quipped from ten feet away.
“Oh. Sorry. But I know you want this wall down. I’ve been studying the blueprints every day at lunch. I just wanted to see if I could figure out how you intended to get it done.”
Logan had to give it to the kid. Troy wasn’t just curious, he was motivated. Logan could relate. He’d been much the same way once upon a time.
“Here,” Logan offered, handing him the blueprints to roll out. “How about we go over it together? It wouldn’t hurt to walk it through one more time just to be sure of the dimensions.”
As they worked, Troy chatted. “You got plans tonight?”
“Hope so. How about you?”
“I’m getting together with Mona. And Sunday we plan to spend the day together at the beach.”
“Oh yeah? I see you made your move.”
Troy grinned. “Well, yeah. Tonight we’re watching a movie at her house with Margie and Max. I’m hoping after that, I can talk her into taking a walk with me.” Troy cleared his throat like he had something else to say. “Jason Healey is a waiter at The Pointe.”
“And?” Logan asked, cocking a brow.
“Jason’s a buddy of mine. He says you’ve been hanging around the restaurant every night that Kinsey plays.” Troy wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “What do you say?”
“I say Jason should mind his own damn business or that maybe the CIA could use his superb power of observation.”
Troy hooted with laughter. “I think you might be the best boss I ever had, Mr. Donnelly.”
“Logan, it’s just Logan. And blowing smoke up my ass like that just might get you a nice fat raise in record time, kid.”
That Saturday night Troy and Mona walked hand in hand as they made their way through the crowd along Ocean Street, eating the hotdogs they’d bought from a portable vendor. As the couple passed McCready’s, Ricky Oden’s voice in rare form singing about Poor Ellen Smith drifted from inside.
“I don’t know why we can’t go into the bar to order a Coke and listen to the music just because we aren’t twenty-one yet. It’s a dumb rule,” Troy groused.
“I know, but it’s okay, Troy. I like it out here under the stars. In fact, why don’t we head down to the beach?”
“Sounds good to me.” Troy noticed her shivering a little. “Are you cold, Mona? Here,” Troy offered without waiting for an answer. He pulled off his blue jean jacket, wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Thanks. I am a little cold. Who knew it got this chilly in California? It’s certainly cooler than Texas right about now.”
“You miss Texas?” Troy wanted to know.
“Nah, not any more. I did when I first got here. But I like working at the Diner. I like Pelican Pointe. At first I thought it was boring and there wasn’t anything much to do here, but then I’ve been studying for my GED over at the library in San Sebastian. Did you graduate high school, Troy?”
“Yeah, my mom sort of made me promise I would before she died. I figured if I let her down, she’d know it and wouldn’t be too happy about it. Plus, my uncles sort of stayed after me about homework and stuff.”
“That’s good. I wish my mom had done that since my dad, Max, just up and left us.”
“Were you mad at him about that, about Max, I mean?”
“For a long time I was. But coming out here we sort of reconnected and I guess he’s straightened his life out now. He and Margie go to AA meetings at the church every Sunday afternoon regularly.”
“My uncle Dale tried that. But it didn’t work for him. He ended up dying in a motorcycle accident. I think he was drunk at the time.”
“I’m sorry,” Mona said.
“Yeah, he was a strange dude all right, but I still miss him every now and then. Not like I do my mom or anything but when people die they leave a big void in your life.”
“It’s sweet the way you still remember your mom. I saw you out at the cemetery once, putting a bunch of wildflowers you’d picked on her grave. When I asked Margie about it, she told me all about your mom and how she died of breast cancer.”
“Margie sort of looked out for me after that. She and my mom were friends for a long time.”
“I know. Margie still talks about her sometimes. You can, you know, talk about your mom anytime you want. I don’t mind. It won’t bother me, Troy, if you do.”
“Really? You know what, Mona?”
“What?”
“You’re sure a whole lot different than Gina.”
Six streets over from the beach, Gina Purvis spent her Saturday night fuming. The twenty-one-year-old had worked as Doc Prescott’s receptionist since the week after graduating from high school. She’d walked into his office with spunk and confidence desperate for a summer job and never left. She liked answering the phones, making Doc’s appointments, and enjoyed every step of the process in learning the software so she could keep Doc’s books.
Even though, she still lived with her parents, she’d come a long way in three years. And she intended to go a lot farther. She had her sights set on becoming Doc’s office manager one day—at least until she met the right man and settled down.
Determined to make something of herself in a town where jobs were hard to come by, Gina had it all planned out. That’s one of the reasons she’d broken up with Troy Dayton. He didn’t seem to
have any luck at finding work and keeping it. Not only that, she got fed up with listening to his lame excuses and his stupid ideas about wanting to make a business out of selling crap that he’d made—out of wood—specifically those stupid jewelry boxes. Who in their right mind would buy stuff like that when they could just go online and order nicer things from a warehouse? And it wouldn’t look clunky and stupid like Troy’s did.
It wasn’t her fault Troy wouldn’t listen enough to take her advice. The guy never listened. That’s why she was boxing up all the stuff he’d ever given her, like stuffed animals she’d never asked for, the ring he’d made her out of copper, and all his stupid CDs. She hadn’t even wanted the stupid things in the first place. Troy had a habit of making his own music CDs, a mix of songs they had liked when they’d first started dating instead of just going over to San Sebastian and opening up his wallet to buy them like everybody else did. Troy was just too darn cheap. That was another reason she’d ended things with him. A girl deserved store-bought things and a man that could afford them without grumbling about it. Gina wanted a guy who would take her out to dinner to fancy places like The Pointe on a regular basis or buy her flowers from the florist instead of picking them out of a stupid field next to the road.
For two weeks Gina had been pestering Troy to come by and pick up all his junk that she’d boxed up. But so far he hadn’t done it. She was getting sick and tired of the box sitting there taking up space. Every time she looked at it, she remembered the three months she’d wasted on Troy Dayton. She wanted the box gone…for good.
That’s why, tonight, she’d show him. She’d take it by his old rundown trailer and dump the box of stuff on his front lawn if she had to. That would teach him not to ignore her and to answer her damn text messages and phone calls.
After telling her parents where she was going, Gina grabbed up the box and headed to her little red Mazda RX-7, determined to show Troy Dayton once and for all that Gina Purvis was not a woman to be dissed.
Lighthouse Reef (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 4) Page 18