Heart's Folly (The McLachlan Brothers)

by Monica Rossi

  But he would, because he had to, for her sake. The question was how.

  “That really was a lot of fun,” she let her board fall into the sand beside his and got her own towel to lay on. “Thank you for bringing me.”

  “No problem,” he grabbed a water out of the cooler, opened it, and handed it to her as she settled beside him.

  She took it and put it to her mouth, drinking greedily. That mouth never failed to excite him and even watching her do something as mundane as drink still had the ability to make him hard.

  “Wow, it’s also a great work out, I feel like I’ve done about a thousand crunches,” she turned to him the smile on her lips dying as she recognized the hunger in his eyes. She leaned in closer and their lips touched, sending an electrical current through his body. How could she do this to him with just a simple kiss? He felt like he’d explode if he couldn’t get inside of her right then.

  His hand snaked out and grabbed her by the neck roughly, pressing her closer to him, giving the kiss an edge. The moan that escaped her was almost his undoing. He’d have to stop unless he was going to take her right there on the public beach.

  He tried to pull away but she wrapped her arms around him and followed him, straddling him there in the sand, his hard erection pressing into her wet cleft.

  “Melissa,” he groaned, not knowing if he was asking her to stop or to never stop.

  His hands grazed up the side of her ribcage and he let his thumb slip under the triangles of fabric covering her breast. The hard nubs of her nipples greeted him and he wanted nothing else in the world than to have his mouth on them. He got even harder, if that were possible, at the thought.

  “Ahem,” the sound of a subtle feminine cough was almost enough to dampen his desire, but not quite. Melissa tried to scramble off his lap, but he held her tight. Partly because he knew who was doing the coughing and he wasn’t eager to have her see the bulge in his pants and partly because he was a grown up who had no reason to be ashamed of kissing a woman in public.

  He tilted his head back to see his mother holding two tall glasses filled with icey red drinks, “Hey Mom. Whatcha doing here?”

  “Well, I saw your car in the driveway, but you weren’t in the house so I went up to the balcony and got the binoculars and saw that you were paddle boarding with this lovely young woman. So I brought you some drinks,” she handed one to Melissa. “You weren’t, um, occupied when I left the house so I didn’t know I’d get here just in time to interrupt.”

  “Oh it’s no problem Mrs. McLaughlin, really, it’s nice to meet you, I appreciate the drink,” a beat red faced Melissa babbled as she again tried to remove herself off of his lap but he wouldn’t let go. There were some things a mother just didn’t need to see.

  “Melissa this is my mom, Mom this is Melissa.”

  “Nice to meet you darlin’, no need to get all blushy with me. I didn’t get three kids by singing Amazing Grace in the church choir.” Owen groaned and put a palm over his eyes. “I’m going to go on back to the house but I’ve got a boil on and some neighbors coming over, it’ll be ready in about an hour. Come on in and have some and speak to some folks before you head back downtown.”

  Melissa sat the drink on top of the cooler and hopped off of him whispering, “I am going to die right now. Why wouldn’t you let me get up? Now all your mom is going to think about when she sees me is me dry humping her son on the beach.”

  “It was that or let her see what you were dry humping against,” he motioned to his crotch, which still held an impressive bulge all things considered, “that’s not exactly something you want your mom to see.”

  She giggled at him and poked it with her finger, “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a shock. I mean I’m sure she’s seen your dad’s after having three children.”

  “Just stop, right now,” he said putting a hand up to ward off anything else she might want to say.

  She laughed even harder, “And I mean with medical advancements and all the drugs they have out now, they might be just as active sexually as they ever were…”

  Owen gently knocked her down and pinned her to her towel, “You are never allowed to speak again.” His eyes searched hers and for a moment he thought about pulling away, but he felt so right in that moment. Her beneath him, eyes dancing with laughter, sun making her skin glow and hair flame. Gently his lips brushed hers and he decided he’d take one last night. One last night of having her in his arms, in his bed, in his life. One last night of having her be his.

  Melissa woke up and smiled at the cracks on the walls. She loved them. She smiled at the sun coming through the French doors. She loved them too. Then she snuggled down into the soft bed and pillows and closed her eyes again. She loved everything. Even the sleeping guy beside her.

  Yesterday, despite her slip up in the car, had been utterly perfect. She’d thought that Owen might have been a little taken aback by her sudden declaration of love but he’d quickly gotten over it. She wasn’t sure why and she wasn’t going to let herself second guess it. She was just glad that he hadn’t freaked out.

  Maybe he figured it was just a slip of the tongue, or maybe he just thought she was making a general statement about loving herself. Or maybe he felt the same way.

  She sighed and snuggled deeper in the pillow. That’s certainly the way he’d made her feel last night. Loved and perfect and whole.

  After getting over the shock and embarrassment of his mom finding them making out on the beach, they’d gone up to the house to have some dinner and Melissa had fallen head over heels in love with his parents.

  His mom, who told her to call her Amy, was gracious and hilariously sassy in stark contrast to his dad who was quiet, but when he did speak it was in that dry as a bone humor that left her gasping for breath from laughing. It was no wonder Owen was such a pleasant personable guy, growing up with those two.

  They’d eaten a “Low Country Boil”, which was a first for Melissa, and also a something of a surprise, as she wouldn’t have expected such a meal at a big fancy house like that. There had been a brief argument between Amy and one of her neighbors about whether it should be called a boil or “Frogmore Stew” but in the end all Melissa knew was that it was delicious. Corn on the cob, sausage, shrimp, crab, and potatoes were all thrown in together and boiled in what must be magical spices that accentuated each food differently but also blended the tastes together perfectly. The most unusual part of it though was the fact that everything was drained and thrown onto a table covered with newspaper and everyone just stood around the table on the outdoor balcony looking out to the sea and grabbed what they wanted while they laughed and drank and traded stories.

  Owen had stayed at her side, hand sending a trill of excitement through her when he occasionally touched her back as he introduced her to people and made her feel like part of the family.

  Then he’d brought her back to his house and made love to her so sweetly it had almost taken her breath away. It had taken all of her willpower not to blurt out the words while he was deep inside of her, hands braced on either side of her head, his steady gaze holding hers as he slowly claimed her heart and soul.

  It had been on the tip of her lips almost every second since she’d realized it. Every look, every touch, every moan made her know that it wasn’t something she was imagining, it wasn’t just a crush on a hot guy who was distracting her from her problems.

  It was love, pure and simple. She wanted to wake up beside him every morning and go to bed with him every night and share everything in between for the rest of her life.

  She smiled with her eyes closed, her hand unconsciously reaching out to touch him, and as she drifted back off to sleep she thought the rest of her life seemed like it’d be just about as much time as she’d need to have her fill of him.

  ⋆⋆⋆

  Owen gently slid off the bed and grabbed some clothes out of the wardrobe. He’d take a shower and figure out the best way to handle things before she got up. He watched her sleepi
ng for a moment before he left the room, her dark hair splayed in sharp contrast to the white sheets, eyelashes making crescent moons on her pale cheeks, mouth slightly open with that suckable lower lip just calling to him.

  He wanted to flip the sheet up and off of her and snuggle down on top of her, claiming that lip as his to wake her up. Then he wanted to slide into her slowly, and bury his face between those perfect pink tipped breasts as he made love to her, finally he wanted to watch her eyes open wide and her bite her lip as she came beneath him in the early morning light.

  Parts of him were urging him to comply with his fantasy, making it even harder to turn around and walk out the room. But finally he left, cursing himself every step of the way. It was going to have to be a really cold shower. He had given himself one more night and that was all he could ask for.

  ⋆⋆⋆

  “Good morning , sleep good?” he forced cheerfulness into his voice.

  “Mmm,” she stumbled into the kitchen, pulled out a barstool and plopped down in front of him at the little island where he was beating eggs, “What are you about to cook?”

  “French toast with some peach syrup,” he said.

  “That sounds delicious, you’re so sweet,” she gave him a sleepy smile that took a chink out of the armor he’d been trying to wrap around his heart.

  “That’s me, I’m a sweet guy,” he said even though it was exactly the opposite of what she’d think very shortly.

  She stumbled around the island and over to the refrigerator and grabbed the OJ, snagging a cup out of the dish drain on her way back to her barstool.

  “How are you so awake and perky this morning? I think I only got two hours of sleep and I’m sore all over from all that physical activity yesterday.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her.

  She laughed, “You know what I mean, the paddle boarding. My stomach feels like I’ve been beaten and my arms feel like limp noodles.”

  He grabbed a bottle of Advil out of the cabinet, “Here, take a few of these and you’ll feel better soon,” he paused, dreading the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “And I’m up early because I’ve got a busy day ahead of me,” his gaze glued to the toast in his frying pan.

  “Really, what are your plans?” Melissa asked.

  “I’ve got to throw some clothes in a suitcase and package about twenty five painting so they won’t get damaged while they’re in cargo.”

  He could tell she’d tensed, wide awake now, there was a pause before she asked, “Going somewhere?”

  “Yeah, I’m heading out to do a show in New York, it’s a lot of work hauling all my stuff up there but hopefully it gets my name a little more recognition in the right circles.”

  She was watching him closely, choosing her words before she said them, “That’s a good opportunity for you. Are you going to be gone long?”

  “Well the show exhibit is only going to be open a week but I figured since I was there I could visit some friends, hang out in the city, you know, do the tourist thing. So probably around a month or two,” he shrugged, deliberately acting much more casual than he felt.

  “Oh,” the single sound told him all he needed to know. He was right to do this, she was getting too attached too fast, hell he was getting to attached, and it wouldn’t do her any good in the long run.

  “I’ll be back at least by September, so if you’re still around then maybe we could hang out again?” he placed a plate loaded with perfectly made diagonally sliced French toast, sprinkled with powdered sugar and drizzled with peach syrup in front of her.

  “If I’m still around?” she repeated.

  “Yeah, don’t you plan to go home at some point?”

  He could see the wheels turning in her brain, “Well I don’t know. I thought… it’s just… I don’t know.”

  He knew it was time to drive the point home, “You’ve got to go back some time. See your friends and family, reunite with the pitiful boyfriend you left there pining for you. Go out and be a kid again, party, have fun, get in trouble. But not too much trouble,” he grinned at her tweaked her nose, adding insult to injury.

  He could see the fire ignite behind her eyes, “I’m not a child Owen, nor do I want to be treated like one.”

  “I know you’re not a child Melissa, as evidenced by the fact that we’ve fucked like rabbits for almost two weeks straight.”

  “So why are you treating me this way this morning? As if I’m some wayward school girl you’re sending on her way. Like we’d had a little fun and now it’s time to get back to business as usual.”

  Deliberately her drew his eyebrows together, giving her a confused look, “Isn’t that exactly what we did?”

  She stood up from the barstool, anger blazing, “I guess you’re right.” She turned to leave the room but he caught her by the arm.

  “Hey don’t get mad,” he leaned in close to her, “There’s nothing wrong with just having a good time once in a while. And I’d love to repeat the experience if you’re still here when I get back.”

  She jerked her arm away, “I’ll keep that in mind.” She didn’t even glance back at him as she stomped up the stairs.

  He looked at the uneaten food on the bar and sat down hard on the same stool she’d just abandoned. She was too young and too vulnerable to let things get messy and complicated, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how sweet and beautiful and wonderful he thought she was, no matter how much energy he felt sizzle between them when they touched, and no matter whether or not he had feelings for her. He knew he was doing the right thing, for her, he just didn’t understand why he felt like life had just punched him in the gut.

  The suitcase sat on the bed, overflowing with crumpled clothes. It was her fourth and last suitcase and she wasn’t going to be able to make everything fit. Somehow her clothes had gotten fatter while she was in Charleston.

  It didn’t matter, she’d throw the rest of them in a garbage bag if she had to. Airport security might have a problem with that though. It was still ok, she could go to Wal-Mart and buy another suitcase, or two. It really wasn’t a problem. It didn’t matter, at all.

  She sat down on the edge of the bed and took several deep calming breaths. It was okay, she was okay, everything was okay.

  The internal mantra didn’t stop her from feeling like she was about to break down and cry. She wasn’t going to blame Owen. Even though her first reaction had been to get angry with him, livid actually, it wasn’t his fault at all. It had only been a two week fling for him. Even if it had felt much longer for her. Even if she had mistakenly thought he was feeling the same things she was. It was her own fault for latching on to him and imagining some kind of connection when there obviously wasn’t one there. She was the one who had thought that good sex, no it had been great sex she admitted to herself, and a few laughs was somehow going to magically turn into a love story.

  He had never once led her on, and had in fact tried several times to make it clear that he wasn’t interested. She had gone over to his house with the express intention of seducing him, and that’s what she’d done. She’d gotten exactly what she’d asked for. He couldn’t help that she’d taken what should have been casual sex and a good time and turned into something else in her mind, picturing how perfect they could be together. Imagining herself transferring to College of Charleston to finish up her degree and getting a little apartment over a shop on King Street. One that wasn’t far from his house, where she’d keep a toothbrush and an extra set of clothes to use on the weekends. Seeing them walking hand in hand down the brick paved sidewalks, laughing and being in love. Watching him paint while she read a book or worked on some paper. These fantasies weren’t his fault, nor were the unreasonable expectations she’d had about him.

  No matter how good looking, how kind, how talented, how good in bed, or how he made her feel when he touched her, he was just another guy. There were plenty of them and finding another one wouldn’t be that hard.

  She told herself all o
f these things but somehow she still felt like something had broken inside her. Like she’d lost something precious and she wasn’t even sure what it was.

  She let herself fall back on the bed as the tears began to overflow.

  “I could really have used your help right around now Felicia. You always did know the right thing to say to make everything seem okay,” she rolled onto her side and hugged her pillow close. “God I miss you so much. When am I going to stop feeling so raw inside?”

  Melissa looked up at the ceiling, alone and unanswered.

  ⋆⋆⋆

  “Somer, slow down, I can’t even understand you,” Melissa said. The trip North had been uneventful but she’d been bombarded with people ever since she’d gotten home. They just wanted to tell her they were glad she was back or ask her how her trip had been, but it was still a little overwhelming.

  She was glad she’d taken the bus, giving herself more time to come to terms with losing Owen and having to go back home and face her life. If she had flown she would have only had a few hours to get herself together. Instead she’d decided to spend a night or two in every state on the way back giving herself ample opportunity to pull it together. Because that’s what she had to do, pull it together and go on with life. People sometimes die and guys don’t always return the feelings you have for them, you just have to cope.

  And in order to do that she had to stop hiding from people. So now she was there with the unshakable happiness of her best friend leaking all over her.

  “Just listen to me!!!” her friend almost shook with excitement, “I have been given three tickets to Mountain Jam! And you’re going with me!!!”

  Melissa just looked at her friend. She didn’t even know what Mountain Jam was or why she should be excited, “Ok, what is Mountain Jam?”

  “OH. MY. GOD. What planet do you live on? It’s a huge music festival that lasts for three days and this year guess who’s going to be there. Guess! Guess!”