by Cara Colter
“They can attract, but that doesn’t mean they’re good for each other.” With one fast, hard movement, she pushed the sundae away. The fragile tower of whipped cream and nuts slid down the side and over the edge, puddling on the counter.
Ever since she’d returned to St. John’s Cove, she’d had this tiny window of hope, one she’d refused to acknowledge, even to herself until just now.
Hope that maybe this time, she and Colton could find a way, like the sundae melting in the glass dish, to meld their two different personalities, and two vastly different life paths, and finally be together. But as the ice cream melted into a milky mess, she finally faced the truth—
She and Colton were better off apart than together.
Colton had half the pieces of the puzzle, but he knew he was missing the most important one. Vivian had said she hadn’t left St. John’s Cove by choice.
Someone had encouraged her to go.
Colton couldn’t exactly see the motorcycle riding mechanic Jack Hunter telling Vivian what to do. Or her father kicking her out—theirs had always been a close relationship, despite her wild ways. That meant it had to be someone else, someone more forceful. Someone with a reason to want Vivian Reilly out of town.
By four o’clock, Colton had a full conspiracy going. He’d enlisted the Group of Six—all but Samantha, who was still on her honeymoon—as well as Daniel, Vivian’s father, to pull off a plan that he hoped like hell would work.
Because he was running out of ideas. And options.
If he didn’t move fast, Vivian would return to L.A., and be out of his life again. He could follow her, of course, but he had a feeling that his best chance was here, in St. John’s Cove.
Where everything had started.
And everything had ended, five years ago.
At the time, he thought he’d known why. Thought Vivian had left because she’d been in love with Jack. But now, he wasn’t so sure. Ever since she’d been back in town, nagging doubts had plagued Colton, telling him far more had been behind Vivian’s sudden departure. Now he knew for sure.
He glanced around the massive house he had lived in ever since his father’s death, the same Victorian that had housed three generations of St. Johns. The emptiness echoed.
Colton decided he had had enough of that. If he could find a way to make things work with Vivian, maybe…
Maybe this house would find the kind of happiness it had never really enjoyed before.
“I’ll have her there,” Amanda promised on the other end of the phone, drawing Colton out of his thoughts. “Seven-thirty, right?”
“Yep. And remember, tell her it’s a get-together for the old gang. I want this to be a total surprise. Really sweep her off her feet.”
Amanda laughed softly. “Who knew you were such a romantic at heart, Colton St. John?” Then she hung up, leaving Colton to finish setting up his diabolical plan to win Vivian Reilly’s heart.
CHAPTER NINE
THE scent of baked clams, lobster, corn and potatoes carried on the air like a scent beacon, drawing Vivian down the old wooden steps and onto the beach. As soon as she hit the sand, she slipped off her flip-flops. Her bare feet sank into the soft white granules, the feel of the beach as familiar as the back of her hand. Her skirt swung around her ankles, chased from side to side by a gentle breeze.
Waves whooshed in and out, nature’s soft music. A few feet down the beach, Vivian saw the flickering orange flames from the campfire, and she picked up her pace. A real New England clambake—a treat, something she hadn’t been able to enjoy in years, considering New England clambakes weren’t exactly plentiful in California.
Her stomach rumbled in anticipation as she made her way down the beach. “Hey, gang, this should be a great last get-togeth…”
The words died in her throat as she took in the romantic tableau waiting for her. A thick plaid blanket, anchored by white candles in jars. Daisy petals scattered all over, like confetti.
Daisies. Her favorite flower. Only one person knew that detail.
In the middle of it all, not the other members of the Group of Six, as she’d expected when Amanda had called her a little while ago and invited her to a beach party, but just one person—
Colton.
Vivian paused a few feet away. If she knew what was best, she would turn around now. Let him go, just as she had five years before.
But this time, the letting go wasn’t happening as easily. Maybe because she knew how painful it was going to be. How much she would miss him. Her resolve faltered, along with her steps.
“Don’t go,” Colton said, as if reading her mind.
“Colton—”
He stepped forward, and took her hand. “I’ve got clams, and lobster. Made them myself.” He grinned. “You have to at least stay and appreciate the fact that I cooked for you.”
She laughed. “I do appreciate that.”
“I bet you’re wondering where everyone else is,” Colton said as he led her toward the blanket.
Vivian took a seat on the soft plaid fabric. Don’t stay, the little voice in the back of her mind warned her. Leave now, before you get in any deeper.
She didn’t move.
“Are they coming later?” Even as she asked the question, she already knew the answer. And still she didn’t move.
“Nope. Tonight is just about me. And you.” Colton reached into a silver bucket, pulled out a chilled bottle of white wine, then poured two glasses, handing one to Vivian. “Amanda, Charlie and Bryce were all part of my plan to get you here. Oh, and your dad, too.”
She shook her head. Her father. Of course. She should have known. “Under that gruff exterior, my father is a bigger romantic than you. Don’t let him fool you.”
Colton chuckled. Then he paused, his gaze roaming over her. “You look beautiful. I like you in white. It’s very different.”
She smoothed a hand over the lace top and the cotton skirt. “This…this is what I normally wear.”
He arched a brow. “It is?”
“Back in California, yes. I’m not the same there as I was here.” She rose and turned away. Her feet sank into the soft sand. “I just wanted you to see that side of me before…”
“Before what?”
She had to say it. Had to cut this off now, before she got in any deeper than she already was. But the scent of the clambake called to her, inviting her to come back, to put her plan on hold. Forget for one more night.
She couldn’t. Colton was like a dessert she knew she shouldn’t have…yet she craved nonetheless. “Before I say goodbye,” she said. “We’re better off friends, Colton.”
There. Start to break the news to him. He’d heard it before. Maybe this time he’d believe her—
And she’d believe herself, too.
“Now, see, you keep on saying that, Vivian, but I don’t buy it. Not anymore.” He put down his wineglass, then leaned forward and cupped her jaw. Everything within Vivian began to hum with desire. “And you know why?”
She shook her head, mute.
Where were those words she needed so desperately to say? The speech she had prepared in her head this afternoon? Gone…lost somewhere in the sea of wanting Colton.
“Because friends—” he leaned in closer, so close she could see the reflection of the stars in his eyes “—don’t kiss friends the way you kiss me.”
She wanted to protest. She knew she should protest.
But she didn’t.
Instead she did a very Vivian thing—stirred up more trouble. By kissing Colton St. John back.
Colton had thought the first time he kissed Vivian after five years apart had been amazing. He’d been wrong.
That kiss paled in comparison to this one. Every touch of her lips rocketed desire through his veins, quadrupling the impact on his senses.
She curved against him, her body fitting into his with the ease of someone who knew him well. His hands slid along her silky skin, then tangled in her hair, that wild mane of hair that t
eased at his senses every time he saw her. The scent of jasmine whispered along her skin, tempting him.
Vivian let out a soft moan, and ranged her hands up his back, sliding them beneath his shirt. When her warm palms met his skin, Colton groaned. Damn. It had been so long, too long—
Their kiss deepened, tongues dancing, Vivian drawing even closer as if she couldn’t get enough of him. Colton’s hand slid up between them, then beneath the fabric of her T-shirt to cup her breast. The soft mound fit perfectly in his palm, just like every part of Vivian.
“Vivian, I want you,” he whispered, then kissed her lightly, “not just now—” another kiss “—but tomorrow—” another kiss “—and the next day—” a kiss trailed down her neck “—and the one after that…” now along the pulse ticking in her throat “…and every single one beyond that.”
Vivian broke away, and slid back. “Colton, we should stop. Before—”
“Before what? Before we fall in love?”
“We won’t do that, Colton.”
“Why? Because we already have and you don’t want to admit it? Or because you still want to keep telling me we didn’t fall in love that summer, either?” He leaned closer, searching for the truth in the flickering firelight dancing in her eyes. “Or did we? And you just lied to me about how you felt?”
She recoiled, as if he’d slapped her, and he wanted to take the words back, but they needed to be said. All these years, he hadn’t confronted her about the way she’d ended their relationship, as if she had an on-off switch on her heart.
Then she recovered and let out a laugh, but the sound shook. “You know me, Colton. I’m not one for settling down.”
She hadn’t quite answered the question, he noticed. But he let it drop for now, and pressed forward with another. “Or for doing crazy things like opening ice cream shops?”
Surprise widened her gaze. “How did you know about that?”
“I’m the mayor, Vivian. I know about everything that happens in this town. I see every business license that gets filed in town, so I can keep my finger on the pulse of St. John’s Cove.” Colton withdrew from Vivian, and turned instead to the tarp covering the clambake. He began removing the rocks and seaweed that had kept the seafood and vegetables insulated while they cooked. “So, why didn’t you tell me about opening the Frozen Scoop?”
And what else haven’t you told me?
Because he knew she was hiding something. What, he couldn’t tell. And why, he didn’t know. The Vivian he had always known had held no secrets, had been as open as a book, especially with him. But in the last five years…
She’d become a different woman, and damned if he could understand why.
She shrugged, then looked away. “It’s no big deal. Just a little ice cream shop.”
Colton tipped Vivian’s chin and waited until she met his gaze. “It’s not just a little ice cream shop, Viv. It’s the dream you’ve had ever since you were a little girl because your mother used to take you to that little shop in Hyannis every Sunday, just her and you. A special treat.”
Tears pooled in Vivian’s eyes. “You remembered.”
“I’ve been friends with you forever, Vivian. I remember everything.”
“Colton…why do you have to do that?” She pivoted away, and hurried down to the beach, her back to him.
Colton followed her, but stopped when he saw the glisten of tears on Vivian’s cheeks. Vivian was crying? Vivian, the strong one, the tough girl, who never betrayed a moment of vulnerability—
Crying?
Why? What had he said? Done?
He reached for her, drawing her into his arms, but she remained stiff, unyielding. His mind ran over everything she’d said in the last few weeks, trying to assemble the pieces into some kind of reasonable sense. “Is this still about the ice cream shop?”
“No.”
“Because I think it’s a great idea, I really do. And I know when we were in high school I said something really stupid when you read that essay about it. I don’t remember what I said, but trust me, I was a teenage boy. Smart and out-of-my-mouth didn’t go together back then.”
“It’s not that. Really.” She heaved a long sigh, one that seemed to have the weight of the world in it.
The tide began to work its way in, dark water lapping at their toes. Soon, the water would extend its reach up the beach, and what had once been exposed would disappear for a few hours. Colton had the feeling if he didn’t get to what was standing between him and Vivian right now, it would be like the beach—back under water and unreachable.
“I know you lied to me that day, the day you left. And I know someone made you leave, but you don’t want to tell me who or why. Am I right?”
She nodded. Finally confirming what he had always known, deep in his gut. The truth whispered in the back of his mind, but he needed Vivian to confirm his suspicions.
Gently Colton turned Vivian until she was facing him. “Just tell me one thing.”
“What?”
“Were you in love with me back then?”
Vivian hesitated, and in the quiet of that moment, dread twisted Colton’s gut into knots. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I was. Very much.”
His heart sang. She had loved him after all. Somewhere in that answer, there was hope that they could work all this out. “Then why, Vivian? Why did you leave?”
She turned away again. “Colton, don’t ask me that. Please.”
“I am asking, Vivian. And I’m not leaving until you answer me.”
She shook her head. “You have plans for your future, Colton. Plans that don’t include me.” A sad smile slid across Vivian’s face, then disappeared. “I’m not cut out to be a politician’s wife, Colton. You should know that. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now. If we’d stayed together then, can you imagine what that would have done to your political career?”
“What do you mean?”
“Me, Colton, of all people? Come on, be realistic. The girl who shows up in a bikini at graduation? The girl who helped you put the principal’s car on the roof of the high school? Are you going to use that in your campaign speech?”
“Of course not. I don’t know why you’re worried about that, it’s all past history. We live in the present, and today, you’re not running around in a bikini. You’re running an ice cream shop.”
She shook her head. “You know as well as I do that the public’s memory is long and detailed. And what about the media? They love to dig up that kind of thing. Your campaign will be ruined before you put up your first yard sign. So why don’t we just be realistic now, rather than drag this out and make the ending more painful?”
He let out a laugh. “Is that what this is all about? You don’t want to be the mayor’s wife? Don’t want to be married to the governor? Hell, I’ll step down today. Withdraw my election papers. Then we can hop on a plane to Vegas in the morning. Get married, live happily ever after.”
She put a hand on his arm and met his gaze. “Do you really want to do that? You’ve worked your whole life toward a political career. You told me yourself you love this job, that it fulfills you. This is who you are, Colton. Don’t throw it away for me.”
“Vivian, I love you. I don’t want this without you.”
He was doing exactly what his father had predicted, and if she didn’t stop it now, Colton would walk away from his job and his future. Five years down the road, or ten, would he still be as happy, knowing he’d thrown it all away, for her? Or would he blame her for the choices he’d made?
“I’ve got a life back in L.A.,” Vivian said. “I don’t want to live in St. John’s Cove. And yes, Colton, I was in love with you once, but I was young then and…” She let out a breath, and with it, the shards of her heart as it broke with the telling of yet another lie, “I’m different now. We both are.” She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, tears searing at the back of her eyes. “I’ll see you the next time I’m back in town. Good luck with the governor’s race.”
Vivian packed the last shirt into her bag, then zipped the suitcase shut.
“You’re getting real good at this,” her father said. He’d taken a position in the doorway about five minutes ago and had yet to leave.
“At packing? It’s not rocket science, Dad.”
“No. At leaving.” He crossed into the bedroom—the same bedroom Vivian had had all her life—and took a seat on the green-and-white comforter and watched Vivian set her bags by the door. “Don’t you think it’s about time you did some staying instead?”
“Dad—”
“Don’t ‘Dad’ me. You know I’m right. You’ve got nothing waiting for you back in California except an empty apartment. Here, you have family, friends, a business.” He paused. “Colton.”
“Dad.”
“Didn’t I just say not to ‘Dad’ me?” Daniel shot her a grin, then propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “You get one shot at life, honey. Don’t waste it aiming in the wrong direction.”
“I’m not.”
“You are if your heart is here and you’re flying there.”
She sighed and dropped into a white wicker chair. When she’d been ten, she’d sat in this chair every night before she went to bed, scribbling silly dreams in her diary. Then her mother had died a year later, and she’d stopped scribbling anything. That was the day she’d realized she had to be realistic, about her life, about her future. She was doing the same thing right now. Even if realism hurt like heck. “I can’t be the kind of woman he needs.”
Daniel waved a hand in dismissal. “How do you know what kind of woman Colton needs?”
“You’ve met his mother, Dad. She’s the perfect politician’s wife. And me…” Vivian let out a laugh. “I’m so not.”
“Says who?”
“Edward St. John, for one.”
“What does he have to do with anything? He’s been dead three years.”
“He told me how awful I’d be for Colton’s political career.”
Daniel’s face tightened. “That man had the gall to say something to you?”