Summer Secrets

by Barbara Freethy

  "He won't go," she said shortly. "You know he never listens to me."

  "I guess not," Ashley replied.

  Caroline didn't like the way Ashley agreed with her. Perversely, she'd wanted her sister to tell her that Dad would listen to her, that she was probably the only one who could get through to him. But Ashley didn't say that.

  "Maybe you should call Kate and let her know," Ashley said instead.

  "I'm sure she'll get called soon enough. I'll meet you at the Habit in a couple of minutes. Make sure you get a double order of fries. I'm starving."

  "Leaving?" Will asked as she ended the call.

  "Yes."

  "Good."

  "Why do you say that?" she asked curiously.

  "You've been in here a lot lately, Caroline. I don't want you to end up like your dad."

  "That won't happen. My dad and I are nothing alike. Just ask him -- he'll tell you that."

  * * *

  Ashley tapped her fingernails against the top of the redwood table in their favorite hamburger joint, the Habit. As she waited for her order, she stared idly at the Rose Harbor marina spread out before her like a picture postcard. It was a beautiful summer day, with plenty of boats out on the water and tourists strolling along the pier. It was a day to be carefree and happy, to let loose of the worries of everyday life and just enjoy the moment. But she couldn't enjoy this moment because she was worrying about the next moment and the one after that, not to mention the moments she'd shared with Sean the night before. She hadn't handled that well at all.

  "Hey there," Caroline said, joining her at the table. "So what's up?"

  Ashley didn't reply waiting until the waitress set down a basket of fries and two diet sodas. Then she said, "I did something stupid last night."

  Caroline raised a surprised eyebrow. "Wow. You did something stupid, and you're telling me about it? Oh, wait." Caroline snapped her fingers. "You're telling me about it, because you don't want to tell Kate. Am I right? Ooh, this must be bad."

  "Sean's mother asked me to talk him out of racing in the Castleton next week," she replied.

  "And did you?" Caroline asked as she squirted ketchup into one corner of the basket.

  "Yes. I tried to tell him that his family really didn't want him to race, and that I thought chasing Jeremy's wake was a bad idea. I emphasized how dangerous it could get out there."

  "But Sean doesn't care what his family thinks or whether or not it's dangerous," Caroline said. "Did you really think he would buy that argument, Ashley? The last thing he wants to look like is a wimp, especially in front of you. And you made it sound like you didn't think he was capable of doing what you did. How do you think that made him feel? Don't you know anything about men, Ash?"

  Ashley stared at her younger sister in surprise. She obviously didn't know as much about men as her sister did. "I never meant to imply that I thought he was a wimp or a coward or incapable. I just want him to be safe."

  "I'm beginning to think being safe is highly overrated." Caroline leaned forward, an odd look in her eyes. "Don't you miss it, Ash? Don't you feel like the years we were racing were the most thrilling years of our life? Look at us now, traveling the same few blocks day after day, seeing the same people, doing the same things at the same time. Don't you ever get bored with this island? Don't you ever want more?"

  Did she want more? Was that why there was an ache in her body that never went away, a yearning for something she couldn't have? "Sometimes," she muttered. "But that's beside the point."

  "Which is what?"

  "Sean and the Castleton."

  "It's not your problem. So what if he races? You two aren't a couple anymore. And, look at it this way: He'll be gone. Won't that be easier for you?"

  Easier in some ways, harder in others. Since he'd come back to town she'd been intensely aware of his presence on the island, and she'd realized how much energy he brought into her world. Her life was like a black-and-white photograph that burst into full color with Sean's arrival. Seeing him, talking to him, getting so close she could touch him, had aroused all the old buried feelings. It would be easier if he left, but she'd miss him again. She'd go through that whole horrible cycle that she'd gone through the last few times he'd come and gone. It was exhausting -- this love she had for him, a love that could never be. Maybe that's why she had told him about Jeremy. She'd needed another barrier, another wall to throw up between them.

  "I told Sean that I kissed Jeremy," she said abruptly.

  "You did what?" Caroline echoed.

  "You heard me."

  "Why would you tell him that?"

  "I wanted to make sure it was really over. I wanted to put something between us that he couldn't forgive."

  Caroline muttered something under her breath, then popped a fry in her mouth.

  "He just got up and left after I said it," Ashley continued. "Not a word, not a question; he just walked away."

  "That was a stupid thing to do," Caroline said flatly. "Because when Sean gets over the shock of it all, he might just come back and ask you where the hell you were when you kissed his brother. Then what are you going to say?"

  "I know. I keep screwing things up." She shook her head, feeling frustrated and annoyed with herself. "I just want him gone. I want to get back to my normal little life."

  "Then you shouldn't be trying to talk him out of racing."

  "But I don't want him to race, Caroline. I don't want him to get hurt. Even though we're not together anymore, I still care about him. I don't want to spend the next few weeks worrying about every storm hitting the Pacific between here and --" Her words were cut off by Caroline's sudden gasp. "What's wrong now?"

  "Look," Caroline said, pointing to something in the distance. "Look there, out on the water."

  Ashley followed her sister's gaze and her stomach did a flip-flop as a boat sailed into the harbor. "The Moon Dancer," she breathed. "She's back."

  * * *

  "So, this is the backyard," Tyler mused as he stood in the middle of Kate's overflowing garden.

  "This is it," Kate said with a smile and handed him a pair of garden gloves. "You'll need these."

  "For what?"

  "Weeding, deadheading, planting."

  He looked at her as if she were speaking another language, and she couldn't help but laugh, pleased to have thrown him off balance for a change.

  "Excuse me?"

  "We're going to garden, Tyler. You said you wanted to do whatever I was doing. This is what I'm doing." She led him over to the rose bushes that lined the fence on one side of the property. "Let's start with these." She handed him the shears. "You can use these to cut off the dead blossoms."

  "I was thinking more along the lines of having a beer and a burger together, maybe listening to some music," he said with a wistful smile.

  "You can always leave," she said. "No one's forcing you to be here."

  "I'm staying," he said, picking up some gloves. "But I don't have much experience, so I might need some help."

  "No problem."

  "And maybe while we're gardening, you can answer some questions."

  "I'd be happy to tell you about this garden. Last year I had to put blankets on the roses to protect them from the frost. And then there was the fungus that attacked the fruit trees, the pesticide that killed more than the pests."

  "Stop, stop," he said, holding up his hand. "I cannot listen to you talk about fungus. A man has his limits."

  She smiled. "Then why don't we talk about you for a change. Tell me about one of your reporting adventures."

  "Well, let's see. I jumped out of a plane over Paraguay. Then there was the time I got thrown into a Mexican jail for interviewing the wrong person."

  "How did you get out?"

  "I bribed the guard."

  "Very impressive, unless you're embellishing."

  He grinned. "I did bribe the guard and I did jump out of a plane, but if it makes you feel better, I sprained my ankle when I landed."

&n
bsp; "It doesn't matter to me at all. Our lives aren't in competition. I don't really care how brave or daring you are."

  "You were probably more brave and daring during your ocean-racing days than I've ever been."

  She shrugged, disappointed that the conversation had returned to sailboat racing. Tyler was like a dog with a bone; he just didn't quit. "You should get back to work," she said, ignoring his question. "All this chatting isn't getting my roses pruned."

  "You're a slave driver."

  "Don't make me take out my whip." She put a hand up to ward off what was sure to be a sexy reply. "Forget I said that."

  He grinned. "If I must."

  Kate knelt on the ground a few feet away from Tyler and spent the next twenty minutes clearing away the weeds threatening to suffocate her hollyhocks. The familiar task should have relaxed her, but she was all too aware of Tyler's very male presence. When he bent over to toss some blossoms into a trash bag, she couldn't help noticing his fairly spectacular ass. Unfortunately, Tyler caught her staring, and she flushed.

  "See something you like?" he drawled.

  "Just making sure you were doing it right."

  "I've never had any complaints."

  She rolled her eyes. "You are one cocky --"

  "Son of a bitch," he finished. "I know. I've been told that a few times." He sat down on a nearby redwood bench. "You really love this, don't you? Your face is practically glowing. I must admit I haven't met many women in my life who were content with simple pleasures like the joy of weeding a garden."

  "What kind of women do you usually meet?"

  "The ones I work with are ambitious, determined, ruthless."

  "The female version of you."

  He tipped his head in acknowledgment. "Possibly." "

  What about the women you don't work with but see socially?"

  "The same."

  "So, you like women in power suits?"

  "Actually, I prefer them in a lot less clothing than that," he said with a teasing grin.

  "Bathing suits, lingerie."

  "Sure," he said agreeably. "You must have spent a lot of time in a bathing suit, living on a boat."

  "Sometimes, but it wasn't always warm. In fact, we often had to wear heavy weather gear on deck when we were racing. It was not very attractive, as Caroline used to say, but it was necessary."

  "I still wonder how three girls and a slightly crazy father could beat the best sailors in the world."

  "Slightly crazy?" she asked with a rueful smile. "My father has never been slightly anything."

  "How did you do it, Kate?"

  "With a lot of hard work, determination, stubbornness, and luck. We had a good boat, too. The Moon Dancer did us right." She paused, suddenly curious about Tyler's own background. "Have you ever been sailing?'

  "Never."

  "Really? How is that possible?"

  "I spent a lot of time in the middle of the country. Nobody owned a boat."

  "Everybody I know owns a boat," she said with a sigh.

  "Is that so bad?"

  "It's hard to get away from it when everyone is so involved."

  "Then why stay? Why not live somewhere else?"

  "This is where I was born. The land is in my blood, my heart. Most of my family, the people I love, are buried in that cemetery on the hill."

  "You stay for the people who are gone?"

  "No, I stay for myself. Everything I need, everything I want, is here. I know it's not enough for most people, but it is for me. Every time I leave, even for an afternoon or an overnight trip to Seattle, I can't wait to get back. This is home. And I guess I'm a person who needs a home, a place to plant seeds and watch them grow."

  "This is an amazing garden," Tyler said, sweeping his hand toward the bounty of flowers, bushes, ferns, berries, and trees. "I've never seen anything like this outside of an arboretum or a magazine cover. You have a green thumb, that's for sure."

  "Do you have a house somewhere?" she asked.

  "I have a tenth-floor apartment in downtown San Antonio, but I'm rarely there. I'm usually on the road somewhere. It's the only way I know how to live," he said on a somber note.

  And the only way he wants to live, Kate thought, intensely aware of how different their lives were, and how different they would always be. She got to her feet. "I'm thirsty. I'll make some lemonade."

  He smiled. "I haven't had lemonade in years."

  "I like my life, Tyler. Don't make fun of it."

  "I wouldn't dare. The truth is I like it, too." He stood up, blocking her way into the house. He moved in even closer, so close her breasts were almost brushing against his chest.

  "You don't like it," she said, cursing the breathless note in her voice, but she could barely speak. Her breasts were tingling. Her heart was racing. And all she could think about was lifting her face to his and pressing her lips against his mouth.

  "I do," he said, his mouth covering hers. His lips were warm, coaxing, and she could no more resist kissing him than she could resist taking her next breath. A wave of heat ran through her body, creating a deep ache within her as she pressed closer to him, running her hands up his back, feeling the taut, powerful muscles beneath her fingers. He was a solid man, a man who could sweep a woman off her feet and carry her upstairs and have his way with her.

  "Kate, open your mouth," he whispered.

  Her lips parted on command, and his tongue swept inside, deepening the intimacy between them. Dazed, she kissed him back with a need that grew more demanding by the minute. She wanted this man, wanted to slip her hands under his shirt, touch his bare chest, slip her legs between his, and get even closer to the hardness pressing against her belly.

  "Again," he muttered as he allowed her a small breath.

  She should have said no, told him to stop. This was madness. He could ruin her. He could ruin everything. But he tasted good and felt even better, reminding her that she was a woman who hadn't been kissed like this in a very long time -- maybe never.

  "Let's go inside," he said, lifting his head.

  She wanted to say yes. But how could she? This wasn't right -- it wasn't anywhere close to right. "I can't." She forced herself out of his arms and put a good two feet between them. "I don't have casual affairs with men who are leaving in the morning."

  "I'm not leaving in the morning."

  "Close enough."

  "Kate -- "

  "Tyler, listen to me. I'm the kind of person who gets emotional and attached. That's not the kind of woman you want to get involved with, is it? Don't you like things easy and simple and uncomplicated?"

  "I used to," he muttered.

  "You should go."