“What do you want?” he asked.
“Same as other people. A home. Family.”
Their food arrived. Kara breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it would distract him from asking her any further questions.
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
Gosh, he looked good tonight. He wore a thick green sweater that matched his eyes and jeans that fit just right. Stubble on his face made him look edgier and dangerous. Get ahold of yourself. She had no business dreaming about taking this man’s clothes off or nibbling on his ear or sniffing his neck. She shook her head and took a sip of beer. What would Jessica tell her to do? Jessica would chastise her. Tell her to snap out of it. Snapping out of it would be the wise thing to do. No doubt. But all she could think of was kissing him.
“It was weird Mary didn’t know who you are,” she said.
“My mother didn’t know one thing about football when she met my dad.”
“She told me that. You can’t predict how life’s going to turn out.”
“No, some things surprise the hell out of you.” Brody picked up his burger but didn’t take a bite. “Know what I mean?”
Before she could answer, a group of teenage boys approached the table. “Hey Brody, can we take a selfie with you?”
“Sure,” Brody said.
A photo. Get out. Go to the bathroom. Kara scooted out of the booth. “I have to go to the restroom. I’ll be back.”
She inhaled deep breaths in the bathroom stall and silently gave herself a pep talk. It’s fine. No one took your picture. You can slip away when they start to take a photo. It was easy. The bathroom’s a great excuse.
By the time she returned, the kids were gone, as were the dirty dishes.
Brody looked up at her as she slid into the booth. “I have a proposal.”
Her stomach did a flip, then reversed itself and did another one the other direction. “What’s that?”
“Let’s forget that we vowed to stay away from each other—I mean, we already broke it today anyway—and have some fun together.”
“Fun?”
“Yes. Let’s do something wacky.”
“Like what?” Where was he going with this?
Brody wrapped his hands around his pint glass and flashed his smile. “If you could do anything in the world right now, what would it be?”
You. She blushed. Her imagination was way too vivid.
“What did you just think of,” he asked.
What could she say? What did she want to do besides Brody? A bonfire? “Since it stopped raining, how about a bonfire on the beach?”
“Done.”
THEY BOUGHT A STACK of firewood, a lighter, a flashlight, a newspaper, a beach towel, and a six-pack of beer at the local grocery store before parking near the public beach. Although chilly, the sky had completely cleared from the earlier clouds. The stars sprinkled across the sky shone with an intensity Kara had never seen before. A three-quarter moon hung low on the horizon. Waves crashed against Haystack Rock.
Brody had asked the clerk at the grocery store if bonfires were allowed this time of year, and he’d assured them it was fine if they put them out before leaving. Now, as they walked down a sandy path toward the ocean, Kara took the lead, shining the flashlight in front of her. The lights of several bonfires dotted the beach. She breathed in the scent of salt and seaweed and wood smoke.
They chose a spot with a large piece of driftwood that could serve as a chair. While Kara arranged their beach towel and opened beers, Brody crumpled newspaper and built a teepee with small pieces of firewood. The wood quickly caught fire. Brody added several bigger pieces before taking a seat next to her. Soon the fire warmed them and lit the cool, dark night. Kara settled back against the log. “They weren’t exaggerating about the beauty of the Oregon coast,” she said.
“I’d almost forgotten.” Brody plopped down beside her, his long legs stretched out at an angle to miss the fire. The fire snapped, and a hot piece of wood landed on the towel near Brody’s leg. He brushed it onto the sand where it became a charred ember.
Chapter Thirty-one
Brody
The last of the logs glowed orange in the darkness.
“Do you think Flora’s in her room yet?”
He hadn’t thought of her all night. What a jerk. “I should see if she texted me.” He took his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Yes. She did text. Oh my God.”
“What is it?”
“She’s staying overnight at Dax’s,” Brody said. “What the hell? Mom’s at home with Doctor Waller and Flora’s sleeping with her high school boyfriend.”
Kara giggled before clamping her hand over her mouth.
“It’s not funny.” Brody smiled. “This is my worst nightmare.”
“I just had a thought,” Kara said. “Do you think Flora’s had sex since she saw him last?”
“Oh my God.” He put his hands over his ears. “Don’t talk about that.”
“No, seriously. Think about that. Forty-five years.”
He threw his hands up in mock disgust and shuddered. “Well, she must have had sex at some point. I mean, no one can go that long.”
“I seem to be testing that theory,” she said.
What had she just said? How did that fit with the bad breakup? He forced his voice to remain teasing and casual, even though he wanted to pounce. “Yeah? How long’s it been for you?”
“Over a year. I violated my rule and dated this guy at work—one of the doctors—and we used to meet in the supply closet occasionally. That’s the only time he had available. Until he got transferred to another hospital.”
Over a year? What about the ex-boyfriend she left town over? A chill ran through him. There was no ex. She wasn’t starting fresh because of a bad break up. Relief came first, followed quickly by fear. If it wasn’t an ex, then what was it? He would get her to tell him the truth. Tonight. “What about your boyfriend? The one you moved away from?”
Silence, other than the sound of waves crashing to shore.
“Did you move here to get away from an ex or something else?” he asked.
Another long moment of silence. Finally, she spoke, with traces of tears in her voice. “It wasn’t an ex. I haven’t had a serious boyfriend since college.”
“Then what is it? I know you’re hiding from someone. No one leaps out of a booth when someone whips out their phone unless they have a good reason.” Kara had held one arm away from her body as if to protect herself from the poison rays of the camera. It wasn’t merely modesty, or that she didn’t like the way her hair looked. She was terrified to have her photo taken. What was she involved with? What had she done?
Her chest rose and fell. “I can’t tell you.”
He studied her face, yearning for clues to her thoughts. Her eyes glittered in the firelight as she continued to gaze into the flames. What was this tender feeling that he had for her? This desire to protect her and keep her close? To take care of her. God, was he in love with her?
No. He was not in love with her. She’d lied to him. He knew nothing about her. Brody dug into the sand with the heel of his boot. “What did you do that you’re afraid to tell me? Is it debt? Were you in prison? What is it?”
“It’s nothing like that.” Her voice broke.
Suddenly, he didn’t care what it was that she was hiding. All he wanted was to pull her close and kiss her. He traced her jawline with his fingers. “Please, let me kiss you.”
“Brody. No.” She reached up to the collar of his jacket like she wanted to push him away, but instead gently wrapped her fingers around the dense leather material. “This is not a good idea.”
“I disagree.”
“If you kiss me, I won’t be able...” Her words withered in the night.
“You won’t what?”
“Once I’ve been kissed by you, I won’t be able to go back to the way it was.” The words tumbled out as if she wanted to inject chaos into the moment, so that he would come to h
is senses. But nothing could distract him from wanting her.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t want to.”
“You should,” she said.
“Then why does it feel like nothing will ever matter as much as kissing you?” His voice was as rough as the sea.
“We’re caught up in the moment. Tomorrow we’ll wake up with nothing but regret.” The defeated sound in her voice broke his heart. “Take me back to my room.”
He poured the rest of his beer over the dying embers and helped Kara to her feet. She stumbled in the sand. He put out his arm around her shoulders to steady her. She was shaking, either from cold or fear.
A recklessness was just under his skin, screaming to get out. Staying away from her was harder than pushing a sled across the field. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep it up.
He took her hand as they walked across the sand to the path that led up to the lodge. She squeezed his hand so hard it almost hurt.
When they reached her room, Kara leaned her head against his shoulder as she used the card to unlock her door. She hesitated before entering and looked up at him, her brown eyes soft and unfocused. “Thanks for taking me out today. It was fun. I haven’t had fun in a long time.”
“Come on, let’s get you inside and into your pajamas.”
“I’m fine, Brody. I can tuck myself in.”
“All right. Sleep in tomorrow, okay? We’re kind of on vacation. Text me when you want to get breakfast.” He looked at his watch. It was almost eleven.
After she shut the door, he leaned against the wall.
There was only one way to get this woman out of his head and that was finding another one to replace her. He went down to the bar.
It didn’t take long to find her. He’d just taken a seat at the bar when he spotted a tall blond with legs for miles sitting there. Pretty face and round, probably fake, breasts. She was with a girlfriend, equally attractive but with a sparkling wedding ring. He was a jerk, but he didn’t sleep with other men’s wives. They had almost empty glasses of white wine and laughed a little too loudly. He sent a round of drinks over to them and waved when the bartender delivered them. They looked at him. Their eyes widened. Aren’t you Brody Mullen?
Chapter Thirty-two
Kara
Kara dreamt of the trial. She was on that stand. “What made you decide to turn witness for the prosecution?” The lawyer was stoop-shouldered with wispy white hair that reminded Kara of a chick.
She could not answer. She could only stare at her father as he sat next to his lawyer. But it was not her father. He’d been replaced by a figure almost like him with a fake smile and the unfocused eyes of a dead man, glassy and unseeing. He held a gun close to his heart. She realized then he was a wax figure, like the ones in the museum in London he’d taken her to when she was thirteen. His face melted until it was elongated and unrecognizable. “Daddy, I’m sorry,” she tried to cry out but she was unable to move her mouth. She was wax too. Her scream was caught inside the hard mass of cold wax that trapped her.
She woke screaming.
Sweat drenched her pajamas. Her heart pounded and her limbs tingled with the aftermath of fright. She clutched at the blanket. Daylight peeped through the bottom of her shades. She glanced at the clock. It was just after seven. She got out of bed and went to the sliding glass doors and opened the curtains. Low tide. The beach spread out long and flat. She went out to her balcony with a blanket wrapped around her. For a moment, she leaned against the railing and breathed in the salty air. After a moment, she heard a woman’s voice coming from the balcony next to her. Brody’s balcony.
“Yes, you heard me right. Brody Mullen.”
A second later, she heard a knock on her door and Brody’s voice. “Kara, open the door.”
She stumbled to the front door and opened it to find Brody on the other side. His hair was tousled, and he wore no shirt, just a pair of pajama bottoms worn low on his hips. His muscular chest tapered to six-pack abs. She swallowed as her eyes drank him in, hunger replacing her fright.
“I heard you scream. I thought someone was in your room,” he said.
“I had a bad dream.”
“Thank God.” Just then the door to his room opened and a tall blond appeared in the doorway with red pumps in one hand and a purse in the other.
“Thanks, Brody. It’s been real. I’m off to nurse my hangover.” The blond reached up and kissed his cheek. “Don’t hesitate to look me up if you’re ever in town again.”
Kara watched her walk down the hallway and disappear down the stairs. Jealous rage blinded her for a moment. She couldn’t see though the red blotches before her eyes. She held onto the doorway for support. What did he do? Leave her last night and find some woman in a bar to have sex with? Yes, that’s exactly what he did. It’s not my business what he does and with whom. Yet, it felt like her business. Brody felt like her business. Thinking of him with someone else, after the day they’d spent together, seemed inconceivable. The thought of him having sex mere feet from her made her physically ill. Shaking, she backed into her room.
“I should get in the shower,” she said.
“Yeah, sure.” Brody held her door open with his hand. “I’ll pick you up in an hour. Flora called from Dax’s and wants to meet at the Pig N Pancake for breakfast.”
“I’ll see you in a bit then,” she said.
The door slammed behind her just as she started to cry. He probably couldn’t wait to get rid of her last night. He’d spelled it out quite clearly to her. He did casual. Not to mention that he confirmed she was a liar last night. What had she expected?
All these thoughts ran through her head. She understood it all. She put it into the proper parcels. None of it made a bit of difference. Jealousy lived inside her, eating away the lining of her stomach. She rushed to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.
Chapter Thirty-three
Brody
They’d just ordered breakfast when Flora let out the bombshell. “Dax and I are going to visit Cameron. Together. We’re going to drive down the coast. You two will have to go home without me.”
“Wow, Flora. I don’t know what to say,” he said.
“You and Kara should enjoy your time here,” Flora said. “It’s such a sweet town. You should stay a few more days.”
Could she be more obvious?
He looked at Kara, but she wouldn’t look at him. She had barely spoken to him on the drive over. He knew why. The girl in his room. If she only knew how he’d changed his mind the minute he had her in his room. He was about to ask her to leave, with her clothes fully intact, when she passed out on his bed.
Screw it. He didn’t owe her an explanation. What would he say anyway? I wanted you so bad I thought I could tame it with another woman?
They finished breakfast and walked Flora outside to where Dax waited in his car. When they arrived, he shook Brody’s hand. “Morning,” Dax said.
“Take good care of her, please,” Brody said.
“I will,” Dax said. “The very best.”
Flora hugged Brody. She felt small and fragile in his arms as she whispered in his ear. “Don’t take Kara home yet. You need more time alone.”
He didn’t know how to respond. What was she suggesting? She was an infuriating woman.
Flora slipped from his embrace and hugged Kara. “We’ll see you both in a week or so.”
“Have fun,” Kara said. “I’ll miss you.”
Brody and Kara stood in the parking lot and watched Dax drive away. He rubbed his eyes and yawned.
“Late night?” Kara asked.
She knew damn well it was a late night. “Not particularly.”
“Should we go pack and get to Portland for a flight out today?” Kara asked.
He shuffled his feet and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Should he suggest they drive? It would give him more time with her, which is all he wanted. More time. “I think we should drive home.” There, h
e said it. Now he couldn’t take it back. This demon that lived inside him and wanted Kara had taken over. He was no longer in charge of his actions.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve always wanted to do that drive and we have the time,” he said.
Kara wouldn’t look at him.
He lifted her chin. “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing,” she whispered.
“Something’s bugging you. Out with it.”
She lifted her shoulders and let out a sigh. “It’s nothing. Let’s go back to the lodge and get packed.”
“For a drive down the coast?” he asked.
“You’re the boss.”
Yes, I am. Then why did he feel like such a jerk?
ONCE THEY WERE ON THE road and driving south, the tension between them lessened enough to discuss where they wanted to stop for the night. Kara had learned from an internet search about the town of Bandon. “Famous sand dunes.” She held her phone up to show him a photograph. The way her eyes lit up, there was no way he could say anything but yes.
She called ahead and booked two rooms at an inn. Her choice. It looked quaint, she said.
“Well, then we have to choose it,” he said.
For the first time that day, she smiled at him.
The inn was built on a bluff with views of the ocean and the Coquille River, as well as what the hotel staff described as “Old Town Bandon.” That evening they dined at an Italian restaurant in the little town of Bandon. They stayed on harmless subjects as they ate pasta and drank red wine. He managed to make her laugh a few times, but she was so cold he didn’t know what to say to her. She seemed almost distrustful of him. Afterward, they walked back to the inn. At her door, he hesitated.
“Can I come in for a nightcap?” he asked.
“I suppose.” She walked into the room and he followed.
He knelt by the honor bar. “What do you want?”
“A seltzer water,” she said.
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