Lavender Beach

by Vickie McKeehan

  From the moment she’d relinquished control to him, Coop wanted to show her all the magic he possessed, all the finesse he could gather. He was by no means a ladies’ man or an accomplished lover. But with Eastlyn, he was determined to take his time no matter what.

  One toss on the mattress and her wedge sandal thudded to the floor. He bent down, tried to get the other one out of the foot thing. “How do I get you out of this?”

  “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  He looked down at himself, picked up her hand, ran it across the front of his jeans. “Does that answer your question?”

  “I believe it does. I’ll leave my liner on…for now anyway.” She reached down, pressed the pin release causing the prosthetic to drop to the floor with a clunk.

  He shoved her back on the bed, roamed his hands over her breasts. “You let me know if I do anything that hurts.”

  His touch made her feel alive, like he’d found her in the desert, thirsting for water. “So far you’re doing just fine,” she said as she arched her back, offered herself up.

  Taking the hint, he ran the tip of his tongue along each pebbled nipple, licked the perfume off one bare shoulder, used his teeth to graze, and sampled skin from throat to belly.

  She tried to get his shirt unbuttoned but her hands were far from steady. She gave up when his head moved between her legs. Her pulse skidded. Her blood pumped like fire.

  On the race to that higher peak, she willed him not to stop. Frenzy followed the line of pleasure as it burst like a thundercloud, bringing with it the lightning that rolled through her.

  Rising up, she reached for him, undoing buttons so she could get down to skin.

  He tried to shuck out of his jeans as she nipped at his throat, scraped her nails down his chest. When she decided he was taking too long, she urged him on. “Hurry.”

  His body rocked above hers until she bucked up and rolled, reversing their positions. She felt him grip her hips. That one touch had her picking up the pace. She felt him tighten around her so she rode him, fast and hard.

  Lightning did strike twice. It lit up the sky in purple and silver before thinning out to a slow, satisfied peak sending them crashing back down to earth.

  Out of breath, damp and sweaty, she floated over him and then slid down, dropped onto his chest.

  He flicked a finger over a pebbled nipple. “I…that was…I think we broke something.”

  “I hope it wasn’t something important that we’ll need for later.”

  His laugh bellowed out as he wondered how to persuade her to spend the night. But in the end, he didn’t have to coax her at all. She cozied up, dropped her head to rest on his shoulder.

  Cooper ran a hand over her thigh, did a slow perusal of her body. That’s when he noticed the ink on her right shoulder—a hawk with wings fully spread in flight positioned over a full, glowing, fiery sun.

  “You’re a wonder, Eastlyn Parker. I’ve never met anyone quite like you before and I’ve traveled all over the world once or twice.”

  “If I get my license back I’d like to take you flying sometime.”

  “It felt like you just did.”

  “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Any higher and we’d have both flown off the bed.”

  Her laugh, generous and warm, rolled out in waves. “Oh, I like the idea of that. I see us flying over Pelican Pointe, a bed sailing through the air. There’s a news crew standing on the ground waiting to capture the moment when we land, a mix of Mary Poppins and Sex and the City.”

  “You’ve got a warped streak in you.”

  “I thought you’d never notice.” She ran a hand past his stomach and felt him come to life.

  “Oh, I noticed.”

  “Okay. Then let’s see just how warped we can get.”

  They made love again with all the zest and zeal of new lovers. Later, they drifted into lazy slumber as the soft night breeze from the ocean flowed in through the open windows, lulling them into eventual exhaustion.

  Seventeen

  The week building up to the end-of-school event was a nerve-racking one for Eastlyn.

  There were nights Cooper did his best to alleviate her fears. But his soothing words often fell on deaf ears. She was like a prickly pear—try to pluck off the fruit and you risked getting poked by the needles causing a sting that lasted for hours.

  One night they were watching a baseball game together on TV, a pastime they both enjoyed. Suddenly Eastlyn picked up the remote, flicked off the screen and declared, “God, how do you stand being around me? I’m making you crazy. I’m making myself crazy. The only thing to do is to go to Julianne, make her listen to reason, and get her to take me off the list. Surely there’s someone in town—Nick or Cord maybe—who could offer more in the way of motivation than I would.”

  While Cooper felt a measure of sympathy for her angst at getting up before a crowd and talking about herself, he chose a more realistic path.

  Keeping his voice level and calm, he proposed what he thought was a better solution. “Or, you could come up with a heartfelt, five-minute talk that reflects the time you spent flying Black Hawks. Focus on what you love about flying. The kids are eager to hear about adventure. You don’t necessarily have to hit them over the head by talking about your disability. Bring them into your army exploits—as a pilot you must have a hundred of them—minus the death and destruction of war. Get them to hang on every word that comes out of your mouth. Inspire the girls in the audience to learn to fly. Be the motivation behind them. Be the instrument of inspiration like your dad was for you.”

  Eastlyn turned to gape at the man sitting next to her on the sofa. She looked at him as if he’d fallen down to earth from another galaxy wearing a Wookiee suit. At that moment, it felt like her heart melted in her chest.

  Not since the last time she’d been in a cockpit had she felt such euphoria. The joy tried to bond together with the security and trust that welled up inside. She sat back, suddenly realized the importance of the moment. “All this time you’ve been trying to tell me and I wouldn’t listen. I’ve made your life miserable for the past week and yet, you hung in there with me. Why?”

  Cooper lifted a shoulder. “It’s simple. I care what happens to you. Besides, I bet after tomorrow they give you a commendation for your oratory skills.”

  “Bite me.”

  He moved closer. “Where should I start?” He held a finger to her lips. “No, the choice should be mine.”

  She gave him a playful little push. “See, that’s what I mean. You keep me laughing. You’re easy to talk to, so unassuming and patient after I’ve spent the last week freaking out. I’ve never known a man like you before.”

  He took her chin. “You know what you need?”

  She leaned in. Her hand cupped his neck. “I do. And I sense you’re gearing up to give it to me.”

  “Maybe you should give it to me first.” To show her he meant business, he boosted her up to straddle his lap. “Since you turned off my ballgame, you owe me.”

  “And I always pay my debts.”

  Clothes began to fly while he ravaged her mouth.

  The scrape of teeth, the way his tongue tagged hers, caused pleasure to curl through her, the knots and tension fading away. Arching her back, she offered herself up. Her hips rocked as glorious waves, jagged and urgent, rippled hot and hard. She called out his name.

  “Say it again,” he demanded.

  “Cooper. Now, Cooper.”

  Their eyes locked. His hands went around her hips. They came together, quickened the rhythm. The pace was on to satisfy lust and greed. Sensations punched like a sea between angry riptides and undertow as he dragged them up and over.

  Out of breath, Eastlyn dropped her forehead onto his.

  He framed her face between his hands. “There’s a joy in getting naked with you.”

  She burst out laughing. “I second that.”

  Later, they sprawled out on the bed with a bottle of fingernail polish nearby
as Cooper helped Eastlyn paint the toenails on her adjustable foot, a nice purple shade that would go with the outfit she’d chosen for tomorrow.

  “I’ve never bothered to do this before,” Eastlyn admitted. “I feel kinda silly. It seems like a waste of time, or maybe overkill.”

  “No, you’ll see, your toes will rock along with the rest of you. You’re not nervous anymore, are you?”

  “Maybe a little. Not nearly as much though, not since I settled on a clear-cut topic. Thanks to you.”

  “Shelby’s pestering me to invite you over for Sunday dinner.”

  “What’s wrong with that? Working with Shelby and Landon, I’ve discovered that as bosses go they’re two of the best, fair, even funny at times. You don’t slack off with Landon though. He spends most of his time in the greenhouse fiddling with propagation. But when he wants that warehouse organized, watch out. He sort of reminds me of my own dad that way.”

  “I’m sure I disappointed Landon by not taking to digging in the dirt the way he wanted me to. I’m glad Caleb was around to follow in those footsteps.”

  She ran a hand over his. “That must be why Landon and Shelby have your photographs plastered from one end of the office to the other. Obviously, I’ve never been inside their house, but tell me I’m wrong to think it’s the same way there.”

  “You’re not wrong. But they are my family. They wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings by hiding them in the closet, especially after the boxes full of my pictures I sent them, it would be rude not to display my work.”

  “Please. They’re so proud of you they could bust.” She caught the worry on his face. “What’s eating at you? Don’t deny it,” she warned. “You helped me earlier when I needed it. Now tell me what’s troubling you.”

  “Eleanor keeps calling me. She won’t leave me alone.”

  “From prison?”

  “She calls collect.”

  A memory flicked through her brain from that day on the cliff. She’d seen for herself how upset the calls made him. “We’ll call the prison. Even if it means getting some of her privileges taken away. She shouldn’t be allowed to harass you. That’s wrong. If calling the warden or whoever, if that doesn’t work, then we’ll go to Kinsey and get her to go through legal channels to get Eleanor to stop.”

  He rolled on top of her, pinned her under him. “I didn’t even think of doing that. You’re more than beautiful. You’re savvy and smart. The kind that makes me want to do all manner of things to you.”

  She tilted her head, sizing him up. “Then you’d better show me whatcha got, Renaissance boy. I have a big day tomorrow.”

  Walking through the doors at Pelican Pointe Elementary, Eastlyn thought back to her own last days of school; lots of them popped into mind. That breath of summer waiting beyond those double doors, waiting for you to fling them open and run as far away from routine lessons as you could get, a chance to let yourself go for three whole months.

  Today there were echoes of laughing children. Voices of conversations whirred around her. The buzz droned in her ear as she strutted into the hallway wearing a summery silk dress in blue and gold, the wedge sandals on her feet decidedly making a statement, and her prosthetic prominently displayed for all to see.

  The outfit was more than a splash of color. It made her feel feminine, even powerful.

  But the feeling was short-lived when she took a look at the size of the crowd. It seemed everyone in town had decided to show up.

  A jumble of nerves warred in her stomach and made her regret forcing down one of the blueberry muffins Jordan had included in the gift basket she’d sent over the day before. The coffee she’d consumed wanted to make its own reappearance.

  Outside the auditorium, Lilly Pierce greeted her with a smile and a stunned look on her face. “I’ve only seen you in jeans and pants. You look amazing in that dress, like a different person.”

  “That’s the idea,” Eastlyn said with a grin. “But it doesn’t help if I’m unable to form a thought.”

  “You’ll be fine. Wally was nervous before going through his spiel, too. Don’t worry. These kids will love you.”

  She recognized most of the other speakers lined up on the dais. When it came her turn she walked to the center of the stage, adjusted the microphone for her height and stood with her spine straight and proud. She looked out into the sea of young, fresh faces, took a deep breath and thought of her father right before catching sight of Cooper standing in the back of the auditorium.

  Maybe it was seeing his face that caused a calm to move over her. Whatever it was, she began in simple fashion.

  “Hello. My name’s Eastlyn Parker and I used to fly Black Hawk helicopters, specifically medevac missions for the army. The first time I flew, though, was in the cockpit of a Piper Super Cub, a lowly crop duster. My father sat at the controls. It was so noisy we could barely hear each other talk. But every time I went up with him and settled into that seat next to him, I’d beg him to let me take over. I wanted to fly so high I could touch the clouds. I must’ve pleaded two dozen times to no avail until one day he let me handle the stick. Or maybe he simply pretended to turn the controls over to me. Whichever it was, I made the most of it. I was thirteen. From that moment on I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to fly more than anything else. While other girls went the beauty queen route, I kept to my goal. I so wanted to take that trip to the moon and back. I never made it there. But you can. Anyone in this room can set their sights on becoming an astronaut, a pilot, whatever you choose. Because, if I can fly, anyone here can achieve their dream.”

  Cooper stood at the back watching her body language. The joy on her face practically lit up the room as she talked about doing what she loved. It occurred to him then that it had been stripped away without warning.

  The invitation to have dinner at Landon and Shelby’s didn’t wait for Sunday.

  Friday afternoon Eastlyn had been running the forklift inside the warehouse when Shelby waved her to a stop.

  “There’s been a change in plans. Could you guys make it Saturday night instead of Sunday? Caleb and Drea are both free then and I’d like to make it a family event.”

  “Did you run it by Cooper?” Eastlyn asked.

  “I did and he said to check with you.”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  Her quick response proved to be the first in a series of events that came back to haunt Eastlyn later. But then Cooper had warned her that family dynamics could change into a minefield in a heartbeat.

  The evening started out well enough on Saturday night when at precisely seven on the dot they pulled into the circular driveway in front of the Jennings home at the northwest corner of Landings Bay. It was the last house at the end of the block.

  Four fluted Greek-style columns welcomed them onto a long porch with all the charm of a grand southern colonial. The place looked so much like an antebellum estate that Eastlyn thought she even smelled magnolias from the walled garden next to the portico.

  Without ringing the bell, Cooper lifted the handle on the front door and ushered her into an entry hall with a parlor on one side and a dining room across from that. The furnishings were an odd mix of old world charm and country comfortable.

  Caleb met them at the door to the living room. He tugged on Cooper’s sleeve to hold him back for a minute longer while Shelby latched onto Eastlyn. While Eastlyn was pulled into the living room where Drea already sat with a glass of wine in her hand, Caleb kept a hold on Cooper’s arm.

  Once the women had drifted deeper into the interior of the room, Caleb leaned in, whispered into Cooper’s ear, “Why didn’t you let me know that you were getting calls from the prison?”

  Cooper stared at his brother. “How do you know that?”

  “Because Eleanor calls me at least three times every day. I figure she’s bound to be calling you as well.”

  “Damn it, why won’t she get the message and leave us alone? Have you taken her calls?”

  Caleb shot a look back at C
ooper. “Are you nuts? I have nothing to say to the woman. I can’t figure out how she got my number though.”

  “Look, we’ll talk about this later. I don’t want to ruin Shelby’s dinner by bringing up Eleanor’s crazy stuff.”

  “Okay, fine, but Eleanor’s crazy shit has to stop. So you promise me that we talk about this tonight before you leave.”

  Across the room, Shelby handed Eastlyn a glass of white wine. “I hear that you hit the ball out of the park with your speech at school.”

  Eastlyn scowled, but then her face broke out into a wide smile, beginning to relax. “I wouldn’t say I rocked it exactly, but I did manage to move my mouth enough that coherent words flowed out without freezing up. So, all in all, I guess it was a win on my part.”

  Landon entered the room with a tray of cheesy stuffed mushrooms. “Try these. They’re delicious. My own recipe.”

  Cooper walked to the bar, poured a shot of bourbon, doing his best to act nonchalant.

  But Eastlyn could tell whatever Caleb had said to him upon entering, had sent his good mood south.

  Thank goodness Drea transformed the charged air into another topic. “I’m starting to feel guilty about ending things with Zach in the middle of all his issues.”

  Cooper popped one of Landon’s appetizers in his mouth, roamed the room. “Guilt is never a good reason to keep a relationship going.”

  “Was it working out, Drea?” Eastlyn asked her. “Because unless it was a relationship worth saving…”

  Drea twisted her hands together. “No, you’re right. It wasn’t working. Not even a little bit. By the time I packed up and left, it had been bad for six months or more before I actually got the nerve to leave.”

  Cooper raised his glass of whiskey. “Then you shouldn’t question the decision. How is Zach doing anyway?”

  “Not good. You were right, by the way. I talked to Bree and Doc Prescott says he’s suffering from clinical depression, probably has been for years. Zach ended up in Santa Cruz for an evaluation. The doctors there agreed with his diagnosis and put him on a drug called lurasidone. But Bree says he doesn’t like taking it.”