“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Nick was just telling me why boys are so dumb.”
Jamie smirked. “Well, he would know.”
“Hardee-har-har,” Nick grumbled.
She handed Heather her phone. “How did your conversation with your mother go?”
Heather shrugged. “Okay. She was pretty mad about me coming here without telling her. What did she say to you? Can I stay?”
“She just wanted to make sure you were okay. I told her you were fine and could stay.”
“Thanks, Aunt Jamie. Did you talk to her about Italy?”
“No. That’s between you and her.” She picked up her towel and shook out the sand. “I don’t know about you two, but I’ve had enough sun and I’m starving. How about we head back to the house and I’ll make some lunch?”
“I could eat,” Heather said with her customary shrug.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll stay here and hit the waves again,” Nick said.
“You’re turning down a meal?” Jamie asked. “Are you ill?”
No. Just sick and tired of fighting this overwhelming need to touch you. He forced a laugh. “I’m fine. Just in the mood for another swim before heading home. I’ll catch you ladies later.”
He felt the weight of Jamie’s stare, but with her sunglasses hiding her eyes, he couldn’t tell their expression. He watched them gather their belongings, then climb the half dozen wooden steps to the beach-access path. The instant Jamie’s curvy ass disappeared from view, he sucked in what felt like his first easy breath in hours. Finally she was out of sight.
Unfortunately she was nowhere near out of mind.
Chapter 21
“Please tell me you’ll share the recipe for this incredible dessert,” Jamie said to Dorothy later that night. The clam meeting had concluded—her PowerPoint presentation had been a hit, as had her handouts—and now the dozen committee members packed into Dorothy’s living area were enjoying their favorite part of every meeting—dessert. Tonight’s offering was their host’s homemade hummingbird cake, a Southern classic Jamie had never heard of but now ranked high on her Oh, God, That’s So Yummy list.
“Happy to share the recipe,” Dorothy said around a mouthful of the moist cake topped with a to-die-for cream cheese frosting. “Especially with the person whose ideas for the Clam Festival have generated so much revenue for Seaside Cove.”
“Hear, hear,” said Megan and Grace in unison, lifting their cake-laden forks.
Everyone else chimed in, and warmth flooded Jamie’s cheeks at the praise and show of friendship, and she marveled at the fact that a mere five weeks ago she hadn’t even known any of these people, yet now she considered them friends.
“Tastes different than the hummingbird cake I grew up with,” grumbled Melvin, although Jamie noted he was among the first to finish his slice.
“That’s my grandma Ernst’s recipe and it won her the blue ribbon at more county fairs than you can shake a stick at,” Dorothy informed him tartly. She turned to Jamie and said out of the corner of her mouth, “Shoulda known giving that sour old coot some cake wouldn’t sweeten him up any.”
“I’m not sour, nor am I deaf,” Melvin informed her.
“Seems I gotta give ya the deaf part, but I’m stickin’ with the sour part,” Dorothy said, throwing him a scowl that he returned with equal force.
He then turned his frown on Jamie. “Saw you got yourself a teenager staying with you now, Newman. Regular hippie commune you’ve got going on there with all them guests of yours. Hope she doesn’t think she can play raucous music at all hours of the night. You’ll recall it’s lights out at twenty-one hundred at Gone Fishin’.”
Jamie smothered a smile. “She’s my niece and she has earphones, so there’s no need to worry about loud music.”
She enjoyed her last bite of the delicious cake, then helped Dorothy gather the dirty dishes. She hugged Megan and Grace good-bye, promising they’d meet at the beach the next day.
“The boys will be there with some friends,” Grace said, “so Heather will have kids to hang with.”
“That’s great,” said Jamie. “She’s with my mom and Alex this evening, discovering the previously unknown wonders of Walmart.”
Megan’s jaw dropped. “She’s never been to Walmart?”
Jamie shook her head. “They don’t have a location in Manhattan. She was pretty blasé about it, you know, rolling her eyes and muttering, ‘whatever,’ but I’m thinking she’s going to be hooked, just like I am.”
“She’ll want to go every day,” Megan predicted with a laugh. “Looking forward to meeting Heather tomorrow and hearing all about it.”
“See you tomorrow,” said Grace with a wave.
They departed, with the other committee members trickling out with promises to see each other the following week for the annual potluck dinner the Clam Committee held for its members, until finally only Jamie and, to her surprise, Melvin, remained. He was lingering, studying Dorothy’s collection of shells and sea glass she kept in a big bowl on her coffee table.
“I think he’s hoping for another slice of cake,” Dorothy whispered to Jamie.
“Again, I’m not deaf,” Melvin barked. “And if you’re offering, I suppose I could force down another piece.
“Humph. I suppose you’ll be wanting another cup of coffee, too,” said Dorothy.
“If you insist.”
Dorothy looked toward the ceiling, then turned to Jamie. “Good thing I made two cakes since I promised Nick a piece as well. Would you be a dear and bring it to him?” She lowered her voice. “I’d do it myself but it appears I have a guest.”
“Still not deaf,” Melvin called from the other room. “Good Lord, woman, you can’t whisper worth a whit.”
Jamie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing and ignored the combination of anticipation and trepidation that raced through her at the thought of delivering Nick’s cake. He’d turned down her lunch invite earlier today, and she’d sensed there was more to the reason than simply wanting to take another swim. You scratched his itch and now he’s done with you, her inner voice whispered.
He certainly hadn’t seemed done with her this morning, before Heather’s arrival had interrupted them. But that was over twelve hours ago—plenty of time for his ardor to have cooled. No doubt he’d decided she and her high-maintenance family weren’t worth the trouble. It’s not as if a guy like him would have any problem finding a willing bed partner or as if they were anything more to each other than a quickie fling.
A pain that felt like a stab in the heart speared her and she shifted her shoulders to relieve the discomfort. “Sure, I’ll deliver the cake to Nick.” Then she leaned close to Dorothy’s ear. “Do you want me to stay?” She straightened and shot a pointed glance toward Melvin, who was now studying a framed black-and-white photo of a youthful Dorothy.
“Nah. He doesn’t scare me. Besides, it’s almost twenty-one hundred—he’ll be leaving soon. You go on, dear.” She handed Jamie a Saran-wrapped paper plate holding a generous slice of hummingbird cake. “Tell that dear, sweet boy Nick I said hello.”
“Will do.”
“I’ll bring you the recipe tomorrow morning,” Dorothy promised with a hug. “Bright and early.”
“Not too bright and early,” Jamie said with a laugh. “ ’Night, Melvin,” she called from the doorway.
Melvin jerked his head up from the photograph, and for a single heartbeat, Jamie thought she caught a softening in his usual dour expression. But then his brows dropped into his normal scowl and she decided it must have just been a trick of the light.
“Yeah, yeah, g’night, Newman,” he mumbled.
Jamie descended the wooden stairs, then headed across the street to Southern Comfort. She skirted around Nick’s truck in the carport and climbed the stairs. As soon as she knocked on the screen door, Godiva started barking and raced into the kitchen.
“Hey, girl,” Jamie said through the screen. “How
ya doin’?”
Godiva answered with a prancing, dancing, barking display. Seconds later Nick strode into view and halted at the sight of her. Their gazes met through the screen door and Jamie’s lungs sort of forgot how to work. He wore a pair of faded jeans that hugged him in all the right places, and a black T-shirt that bore streaks of what appeared to be sawdust. His hair was rumpled and a hint of stubble shaded his jaw. He looked big and strong and sexy and gorgeous and he put everything female in her on red alert, especially when he began walking toward the door.
“Hi,” she said as he silently approached. “Dorothy asked if I’d deliver this piece of cake she promised you.” Good grief, she sounded positively breathless. As if she’d sprinted the entire length of the island rather than walked across the street. When he reached the door, he gave Godiva the signal to heel and she stepped back so he could push it open. “You were so sweet today, I figured it was the least I could do—”
Her words were cut off when in a single motion he took the cake and set it on the counter with one hand, while dragging her through the open door and pulling her against him with the other. Before she could suck in a much-needed breath, his mouth was on hers, and his hands were … God, they were everywhere, impatient and just a little rough, molding her against him like melted wax. Which was just fine because that’s exactly what she felt like.
In some small recess of her mind, it vaguely registered that he’d kicked the door shut. That he’d lifted her straight up and, with his lips fused to hers and his tongue stroking deep inside her mouth, had walked her toward his bedroom. That somewhere along the way her flip-flops fell off. Then he kicked the bedroom door shut as well and she thought she heard Godiva give a mournful whine, but the sound was drowned out by the echo of her heartbeat pounding through her.
One second he was kissing her into a quivering blob and the next she landed on the mattress with a bounce. She gulped in some desperately needed air, but again he stopped her lungs when he whipped his T-shirt over his head and tossed the garment aside. With his hot, intense gaze zeroed in on her like a laser beam, he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper halfway.
Wow, wow, holy cow. Dots swam before her eyes, no doubt from lack of oxygen. God help her, she didn’t know where to look first. Her hungry gaze skimmed over his broad chest, then down his ridged abdomen and settled on his erection, straining against the white cotton of his underwear. Without a word he reached for her, and before she could even find her voice to utter let’s get naked, those magical hands of his made her shorts, panties, and tank top disappear.
Then he dropped to his knees next to the bed, slid his hands beneath her, and dragged her to him. His mouth was oooh, right there, and his fingers, aaaah, right there—stroking, delving, teasing, caressing, relentless, propelling her toward climax at breakneck speed. Her orgasm struck her like a lightning bolt, dragging a sharp cry from her throat.
Aftershocks of delight were still rippling through her when she heard a tearing sound. She managed to drag her eyes open in time to see Nick impatiently shove his jeans and boxer briefs low enough to free his erection, then roll on a condom. In the next heartbeat his body covered hers, pressing her into the mattress. He entered her in a single breath-stealing deep thrust. Their groans mingled, and then his mouth once again covered hers and the magic began all over again. Jamie wrapped her arms and legs around him, meeting each thrust until her body tightened and she once again hovered on the edge of release.
Nick broke off their kiss and dragged his mouth across her jaw. “Come with me, Jamie. Now.” That command, spoken against her ear in that ragged, harsh whisper, pushed her over the edge into another shattering climax. He clasped her to him, and with a long groan, buried his face against her neck as shudders racked his entire body.
She lay beneath him, a panting, boneless heap. A good minute passed before she felt capable of speech. And even then she only managed a heartfelt, “Wow.”
He lifted his head and she forced her eyes open. And found him looking down at her through slumberous eyes. “Yeah. Wow.”
“That was some greeting. I was only expecting a hello. Maybe a kiss.”
“Did I not say hello?”
“Um, no. As best as I can recall, the first words you actually spoke were ‘come with me, Jamie.’ For the record, they were pretty darn fantastic first words, and you’ll note that I follow directions very well.”
“Noted. And since I deprived you of the greeting you expected …” He lowered his head and gently touched his mouth to hers. This kiss was soft, lingering, and tender … the complete opposite of the demanding, impatient, devouring kiss he’d given her at the door. Where that kiss had made her heart race, this one … this one simply melted it. Especially when he raised his head just enough to whisper, “Hello.”
The word blew warm and soft against her lips and something inside Jamie seemed to shift, leaving a yawning space that immediately flooded with an intoxicating warmth that made her feel as if heated honey ran through her veins.
“Hi.” She raised her arms above her head and stretched beneath him, reveling in the delicious feel of his weight on top of her. “You really are full of surprises. This afternoon you were Mr. Sweet and Charming, and now tonight you’re …” She heaved a gushy sigh. “Mr. Oh, My.”
He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I’d been thinking about you and when you showed up, I just couldn’t keep my hands off you.”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem keeping them off me at the beach.”
He raised a brow. “Wanna bet? The effort damn near killed me.”
There was no denying the relief that filled her that it wasn’t just her who’d had to expend that effort.
His gaze searched hers, intent and serious. “But I picked up on a definite hands-off vibe from you—and in case it missed your notice, you never touched me all day, either. The question is, was it hands off because you didn’t want any PDA in front of your niece, or because last night was all you wanted from me?”
Her life would certainly be much less complicated if she were able to write him off as a one-night stand and ignore these unwanted feelings he was stirring up inside her. But that definitely wasn’t the case. “Hands off was for Heather’s benefit. I didn’t want her to feel as if she was interrupting or that I didn’t want her there. She feels that sting enough at home. As for the other, I’d be branded World’s Biggest Liar if I said I didn’t want a repeat of last night. How about you?”
He expelled a short laugh. “You’re asking a guy who pounced on you like he was starved and you were brisket parmigiana, who had you naked in under a minute, and who couldn’t even wait to get his own clothes all the way off before making love to you. That answer your question, princess?”
“Yes. And for the record, I really, really liked being that brisket parmigiana. Which means once again we agree.”
He nuzzled her neck with his warm lips. “That’s getting to be a habit.”
“Yes.” And it suddenly occurred to her that he could become a habit. Yes, the way he touched her … she could definitely become addicted to that. Which was a scary thought indeed.
“Since we’re in agreement, how about a nice, warm shower, then I’ll show you that, all evidence to the contrary when you arrived, I’m actually capable of slow and easy.” He lifted his head and offered her a lopsided grin. “Especially now that the edge is off.”
“I can’t spend the night. I don’t think it would be right with Heather—”
He stopped her words with a kiss. “I understand. And I agree.”
“Yikes. Really getting to be a habit.”
“Yeah.” His gaze searched hers. “I think maybe you’re getting to be a habit, Jamie.”
She blinked. “Is your superpower mindreading? Because I just thought the same thing about you.”
“No.” His gaze remained serious for several seconds, then fire flared in the green depths. “Wanna see what my superpower really is?”
&nb
sp; “I already know. I’m not sure what you call it, but it involves your magical hands and that incredible thing you do with your tongue. Yowza.” A shiver of delight rippled through her at the memory. “You truly are a Super Man.”
“What if I told you that’s not it?”
Her eyes widened. “You’re joking. You haven’t already showed me? There’s more? It gets better?”
He rolled them so that she was on top. “Sweetheart, I haven’t begun to show you.”
“Be still my heart. You’ll recall that I can’t spend the night.”
“I remember. And I’m leaving early in the morning to go to Kevin’s.”
Disappointment flooded her. “How long will you be gone?”
“A few days. How late can you stay tonight?”
“Another hour.”
He tangled his fingers in her hair and dragged her mouth down to his. “Damn. That doesn’t leave me much superpower time.”
“Okay, two hours. But then I really need to leave.”
“Then let’s make the most of the short amount of time we have left.”
Their lips met, and her last thought before she forgot everything else was that their time wasn’t short just tonight. With her return to New York a mere four weeks away, they didn’t have much time left at all.
Chapter 22
“Nick, you know I think of you like a brother, right?” asked Kevin.
Nick didn’t look up from the bead of caulk he was running along the shoe molding in the new playroom. Once he finished, the room would be ready for painting. “Yeah. I’m your BFADM.”
“Huh?”
“Brother from a different mother.” He glanced at Kevin over his shoulder. His friend stood in the doorway, his weight balanced on his crutches. “We’re apparently also BFFs.”
Summer at Seaside Cove Page 26