Amy eyed it. “What is that?” She appealed to Nell. “Did you have any?”
“Don’t get hangovers,” Nell said, smug.
“I hate you,” Amy muttered. She sniffed at the container.
“Trust me. It’s my grandma’s recipe. She liked the booze, granny did.”
“You should rest. I’ll clean up the front.” Ben cleared the plates and began washing them off.
“Fresh air will do her good,” Nell said, elbowing him out of the way. “You’ve probably got an agent or publicist to deal with.”
When his phone beeped, she nodded. “See?”
Amy made a shooing motion. “Go. I’m fine. That is, if I don’t die from this concoction.”
“Down the hatch,” Hannah said, all cheer. She joined Nell at the sink and together the two of them dealt with the dishes.
The sludge turned out to be cool and spicy at the same time, and while a bit odd, tolerable. To her surprise, Amy felt a tiny bit better almost instantly. She recounted the story of their morning, and Hannah had to stop drying the dishes because she laughed so hard.
“Typical Ned. He’s so green he’s adorable.”
“Adorable?” Nell arched a brow. “Have you seen those abs of his? Make that sexy as hell.”
“He’s too young for you,” Hannah protested. “Stop corrupting our youth.”
Nell shook her head. “You know I only play off-Island. Still…” she trailed off, a predatory gleam in her eye. “Tall, dark, strong…a man of the law.” She fanned her cheeks. “Yum.”
Amy laughed. “I officially feel better. Thanks.”
“Oh, we’re not done yet.” Hannah took her arm and led her outside. “You do need fresh air.”
Nell followed with a few garbage bags and rubber gloves. “Assholes left a mess.”
Amy realized they had, and she felt a childish urge to stamp her feet. They’d intruded on her private world with Ben, inserted cold, hard reality into the nice bubble they were in. And, they’d trampled over her flowers and left cigarette butts and paper to-go coffee cups as an insult to injury.
With her friends’ help, it didn’t take long. As they finished, the Neals and Ericksons came up from the back and asked to use the kayaks. Amy helped them haul the boats to the bay, then stood there, staring out at the water.
“Ben did a great job on those,” Hannah commented. “What a sweetie.”
Amy’s shoulders slumped. “He’s leaving.”
“What?” Hannah swiveled to face her. “It’ll blow over in day or so, and he’ll be old news.”
“I don’t mean right now. But, when they showed up, all I could think was, the clock is ticking. He’s leaving, and I did something stupid.” Amy sighed, brushed impatiently at a tear that escaped. “I fell in love with him.”
“Oh, honey.” Hannah folded her in her arms, rocked her back and forth.
Amy let herself relax for a moment, then gently pulled away. “Nope, nope. Not going to cry. I knew what I was getting myself into.” She gave Nell a watery smile. “You didn’t think I was cut out for a quick fling. Guess you were right.”
Nell regarded her steadily, then looked back out at the bay, seeming to debate something. “He told you that I took him on a plane ride around the Islands, right?”
“Yeah. Did he say something to you about me?” Amy rolled her eyes. “God. Listen to me. I’ve been reduced to a teenager.”
“No, it wasn’t what he said. It was the look in his eyes when he stepped off the plane. Dazed, dazzled. He loves this place. I think the Islands have a hold on him.” She paused, looked at Amy. “It’s the same look I see in his eyes when he looks at you.”
The words sliced at her heart. She longed for them to be true with every part of her being.
“How is it that I’m the realist here, and you’re the romantic?” She tried to laugh it off. “He’s a movie star. He belongs in Hollywood, with some ridiculously sexy actress on his arm. The bitch.”
“Does he belong there?” Hannah tipped her head, studied her. “He seems pretty damn happy here, if you ask me.”
“I don’t want to give you false hope,” Nell said, laying a hand on her arm. “But I’m saying…you need to talk to him. Don’t give him up without a fight.”
“I agree. Go get ’em, girl,” Hannah said. “When it comes right down to it, he’s just a man. You put a light in his eyes. You’re too busy doubting yourself and him to see it.”
“Come on. He’s Ben Morrison.” She shook her head. “You guys are biased because you’re my friends.”
Amy held a hand up when Nell started to talk. “Listen, I appreciate the pep talk and the help. But, he’s leaving, and I need to be realistic.”
Nell and Hannah exchanged glances, then both reached out and gave her a hug. Amy sniffed away one last tear and held on for a minute before gently disentangling herself.
“All right,” she said with forced cheer. “Onward and upward. Bright side—they got some great shots of the inn, right? Could be great for business.”
She chatted with her friends until they left, then headed inside. She had an inn to run, and a life to lead.
***
At the end of the day, Ben lounged on the couch in Amy’s apartment. Amy propped her feet in his lap while he lazily massaged her calf.
“So, Artie said he thinks it’s contained. The statement made it sound as boring as possible—that I was just resting and relaxing. No rehab, no drinking problem. Plus, it helped that no one here on the Island was willing to talk to the press.”
Amy laughed. “We defend our own. But…” she pouted a little. “It’s pretty unfair that you’ve been here four months and they’ve already adopted you as an honorary Islander, and it took me a year. Hell, even just a month or so ago Nell was asking me when I was going to give it up and leave.”
“I’m very charming.” He shot her a grin. His smile faded, and Amy shook her head even as he opened his mouth.
“I do not want to hear you apologize again. Let’s talk about something else. So, did the Christmas boat parade inspire you?”
“God, yes. That was another reason today was so damn irritating,” Ben rolled his eyes. “I just wanted to sit down at the computer and pound it out. I can see the whole ending now, rolling out in my head.”
“You’ll be done soon, then?”
“Probably a day or so of solid writing, and it’ll be in the bag. Of course, then there’s editing. I can usually breeze through that pretty quickly.”
“Good for you. I’m so happy for you, Ben.” Amy closed her eyes to hide the sadness she was sure lurked there. If he was almost done, then he’d be leaving soon. He’d be back to Hollywood to shop it around. This interlude would be just that, a brief respite from the bright lights of movie stardom.
She opened her eyes and studied him. Gone were the deep grooves bracketing his mouth, the dark shadows under his eyes that she’d seen when he first arrived. He held himself looser, laughed more. He looked, she thought, like he was ready to face anything.
He looked over and caught her staring at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” She leaned in and brushed her lips across his once, twice. Traveled over his cheek, up across his forehead, memorizing the feel of his skin, the shape of his face.
Their lips met again, clung, and she poured herself into the kiss, her hands gentle on his face even as her tongue tangled with his, as her mouth demanded more. She couldn’t say what was in her heart. But, she could give him this.
They kissed until her limbs felt heavy, her body liquid. Still, the fire stayed banked as she took her time stripping his clothing, piece by piece, exploring his body as if for the first time, trailing her fingers along his skin. He, too, seemed caught up in the spell, staring into her eyes as he undressed her.
Ben swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, laid her on the bed, and kissed her again, deeply, slowly. Amy trailed kisses across his face, down his neck, inhaled the salty ocean tang that seemed to
permeate his skin. He murmured her name, dipped his head to gently kiss her breasts. The world narrowed to just the two of them, in this moment that stretched on forever, as they touched, kissed.
The need built slowly, slowly, until she reached out and sheathed him with a condom. He locked eyes with her and slid inside her. She let out a satisfied moan, arching up to meet him, lost in the blue of his eyes while they rocked together. Amy gripped onto the hard muscles of his biceps as the waves built higher and higher, until she lost herself to the orgasm, moaning his name. Ben groaned and thrust deeper inside her when he came moments later, burying his face in her neck.
He lay on top of her until his shudders subsided, then rolled her over on her side, still inside her. She laid her cheek against his, every muscle relaxed, and held on, fighting against the urge to drift off to sleep. She wanted to stay awake, to keep and hold this moment, to hold onto however many moments they had left. His breathing evened out, and his eyes drifted closed. Amy grabbed his ass and pulled him closer, wanting to keep him inside, connected, a part of her.
She drifted off to sleep pressed tightly up against the steady beat of his heart, his arms strong around her, her legs wound around his, anchoring him to her. When she woke a few hours later, he was inside her again, and her hips were already moving, urging him on. Half asleep, she pressed her breasts against his chest and caught a glimpse of Ben watching her in the dim moonlight. She reared up, caught his mouth with hers, bit down on his lower lip. He reached down between them, massaged her clitoris, and she orgasmed. He immediately shuddered, thrusting deep and hard into her with his own climax.
When she would have moved, he rolled over, pulled her on top of him, but kept her pressed against him so he once again stayed inside her.
“Don’t go. Stay with me,” he whispered.
I’m not the one leaving, she thought.
But, she laid her head down on his chest and fell asleep once more to the beat of his heart as he stroked her hair.
Chapter 26
Fingers flying furiously over the keyboard, Ben sped toward the finale of his movie right along with his main character—until a familiar voice boomed up the stairs and through the closed door. He frowned, thinking he’d misheard. But, when he cracked open the door, there was no mistaking it.
Ben took the stairs down two at a time and grinned so wide at the man standing in the foyer that he thought his face might crack.
“Son of a bitch. What are you doing here?”
Artie rolled his eyes and shoved his suitcase toward Ben. “Saving your ass, what does it look like?”
Ben ignored the suitcase and closed the distance between then, wrapping his arms around the man in a bear hug. Artie huffed like he could barely tolerate it, but he held on just as tightly as Ben.
“Christ, it’s good to see you.” Ben stepped back, took stock.
His hair was definitely salt and pepper now, and over the past four years, the bald spot had grown substantially. Artie had, however, minimized it with a buzz cut, and wore jeans with a distressed dark wash. Even more amazing, he sported a hip collared bowling shirt with thin black stripes. It was, Ben was relieved to note, rumpled as hell.
“What happened to you?” he asked. “You look…not terrible.”
“Ben,” Amy admonished. He hadn’t realized she was there, and he turned to smile at her. “What? His wardrobe always sucked.”
“It did,” Artie said, wistfully. “Met a woman. She’s fixed me up some.” He patted his paunch. “Hasn’t conquered this yet, though. You look better than the last photos I saw of you.”
Artie sent a smile over to Amy—the man could still be damn charming when he wanted to. “The company you’re keeping has greatly improved.”
“You’ve met, then,” Ben said.
“No, I let myself in and then stood here silently, like an idiot, waiting for you to show up.” Artie shook his head, glancing at Amy. “He’s always been a bit slow. Of course I met her.”
“I gave him the room next to yours.” Amy handed over the key and leaned on the desk towards Artie. “You should know, Artie, I totally got Ben unstuck on his screenplay and helped him with a pivotal action scene.”
“Oh, yeah?” Artie cocked his head at Ben. “This true?”
“She took me to this Christmas parade of boats, and the finale action scene will take place there,” Ben confirmed.
“All me.” Amy pointed to herself. “I don’t think it’s exaggerating to say I’m solely responsible for the success of his screenplay.”
“Is that right?” Artie’s mouth quirked up in amusement.
“So, tell me, Artie.” She leaned closer, gestured him near, pretending to whisper. “How much of a deal can you get me? I’m thinking…50% of the profits.”
“I’m actually his agent,” Artie pointed out. “Not yours. But, I’m a sucker for a pretty face. Let’s just give you all the profits.”
“Hey,” Ben protested.
Amy stuck out her hand. “Done. Pleasure doing business with you.”
“Likewise.” Artie huffed out a laugh. “All right, boy, my bags. I want a hot shower. Then we’re going out on that damn boat of yours.”
“I can’t keep that damn boat much longer with you siphoning off all my profits to every pretty face you see,” Ben groused, grabbing the bags and shooting a wink at Amy.
“I like him,” she mouthed to him.
“I like you, too, sweetheart,” Artie called without turning around.
“How’d he do that?”
Ben laughed. “No one knows.”
He hauled the bags up to Artie’s room, turning over in his mind reasons that Artie had come. Did he just want to see him after all these years? While he had a hidden sentimental side, Artie never took action without a specific end result in mind. And, he hated to fly, drive, go out on boats—any form of travel.
There’d be no prying it out of Artie before he was ready, so Ben left him to get settled and resumed working on his screenplay. Before long, his phone beeped a reminder of the kids’ final rehearsal for their one-man plays. He shut down his laptop and shrugged on a sweater before going next door.
Right as he was about to knock, Artie opened the door. “What?”
“I’ve got to go over to the main island for a rehearsal with the kids. Want to come along in my damn boat?”
Artie narrowed his brown eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about? What rehearsal? What kids?”
“Oh, right.” Ben jingled his keys in his hand. “It’s kind of a long story. Listen, I have to go, so you can either tag along and tell me why you’re here, or we can wait until tomorrow. But, I think you’ll like these kids.”
“I like kids. It’s the adults I can’t stand.” Artie shrugged, grabbed a jacket. “Let’s go, then.”
On the drive to the marina, Ben recounted the story of how he’d gotten involved with the kids, and Artie snorted with laughter.
“This, I gotta see. Mr. Big-Shot Morrison, directing bratty kids in a two-bit theater.”
“Hey. It’s not two-bit. These kids are fucking talented.” Ben swung into a parking space with more speed than necessary and got grim satisfaction from watching Artie clutch his door handle with both hands. “These one-man plays—they’re writing, directing, acting, doing stuff that’s pretty damn advanced for…”
Artie grinned when Ben stopped himself. “For a podunk town like this one? Got ya there, didn’t I?” He regarded Ben thoughtfully. “So, you got roped into this, but you’re still hanging around.”
“I like it.” Ben shrugged. He met Artie’s gaze. “What?”
Artie lifted one shoulder, started walking down the dock. “The old Ben Morrison I knew wouldn’t have given a shit.” He clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I think I’m going to like this version a hell of a lot better.”
“You make me sound like I was some kind of asshole,” Ben complained.
“You were.”
Ben started to protest, then shrugged. �
��Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
He helped Artie onto the boat, then puttered out of the marina. The wind blew brisk and cold, but the sun shone out of a sky dotted with puffy clouds. Artie sat and hung on, face tinged green.
“You gonna be okay?” Ben debated about running below deck for a bucket.
“It’ll pass,” Artie muttered, closing his eyes.
Ben left him alone and concentrated on hoisting the sails. The boat picked up speed, and he set the course. He let ten minutes go by in silence, periodically checking in on Artie, whose color improved gradually bit by bit. Then, off the bow, he spotted it—one of the Islands’ “resident” whales that could be spotted year round.
“Artie.” Ben pointed, half expecting the man to dismiss the sight.
Instead, Artie’s eyes widened as the Orca whale arched up, black and white skin glistening in the winter sun, then slid back into the water with a huge splash. He kept watching the water long after the whale had disappeared, his seasickness forgotten.
“That was pretty fucking cool,” he admitted, finally turning back to face Ben. He looked around, seeming to take in the scenery of rugged trees and mountains for the first time. “So, you’ve been sailing, working with the kids, writing. Found yourself a halfway intelligent woman for once.”
“You liked her,” Ben said, feeling like he was in high school and asking for his family’s approval. “You only talked to her for five minutes. Oh, wait. I forgot who I was talking to.”
Artie claimed he could assess people’s character within three minutes of meeting them. The hell of it was, Ben had to admit, he was usually right.
“Smart. Funny. Pretty. Independent. Doesn’t have stars in her eyes like the googly dimbulbs you dated before; doesn’t have dollar signs like some of the others did.”
“What does she have in her eyes?” Ben found himself asking.
Artie started to speak, then stopped, regarding him thoughtfully. “If you aren’t sure, then I don’t think I should be the one to tell you.”
Love on the Sound Page 35