He took a spoonful of his ice and slipped it down the front of her dress. “Take that—now you’ve got ice down your dress.”
She grabbed at her dress, pulling it open, trying to retrieve the shavings. “I’ll get you back.”
Before Colin could stand, Claire had taken her cup of lemon ice and dumped it on his head. She took off running. He was momentarily surprised. He’d never seen Claire do anything more deliberate than taking a second dessert after dinner. Even then, she’d snuck it after everyone had gone outside to sit for the evening. She had no idea he was watching her from the living room.
Colin got up and took after her, running down the sidewalk, dodging between a few slow walkers who were window-shopping, with nothing better to do. He reached the end of the shops and thought she’d got away. That’s when she jumped out and spooked him. She was concealed by an empty doorway.
“I’m going to get you, Claire Ashton!”
He pushed her up against the side of the brick entryway and pressed one long, tantalizing kiss to her lips. Realizing he was in public, he stopped himself short of parting her mouth and waiting for an invitation to go inside.
“Come with me.” He pulled her by the hand and crossed the street to the public pier.
They jumped down off it and landed on the ground below. His slip-on shoes filled with sand. Unlike the cove, the ocean stretched for as far as the eye could see. The sun that had burned them only an hour ago had gone into hiding. Large clumps of ominous clouds had shrouded it, taking it hostage for the next couple of hours for the storm to take over. Most everyone there had begun packing up their belongings and headed to their cars. A gentle breeze had turned into a steady wind. He watched it blow Claire’s hair into her eyes.
“Colin, it looks like a rainstorm is headed this way. Maybe we should go back.”
He pulled her harder by the hand. “Let’s be storm chasers, Claire.”
They ran down the beach as the wind picked up to forceful speeds. White caps broke on the surface of the water and birds soared overhead, hanging in mid-air as the wind kept them suspended like kites. Soon the rain began to shoot from the sky like pellets from a BB gun—hard and forceful. They found a lifeguard shack and ran for cover.
After Colin fought with the wind to close the door, he grabbed Claire by the shoulders, pushing her against the wall, and passionately kissed her. This time his tongue had broken through to find hers, wrestling and caressing it at the same time. His breaths quickened as he felt his nature rise. He heard a faint moan come from somewhere deep inside her. He stroked her sides with his strong hands, moving up toward her breasts.
Suddenly a lifeguard thrust open the door and broke the moment of passion.
“You guys need to find shelter somewhere else. I need to lock down,” he yelled, trying to be louder than the crashes of thunder.
Claire smoothed the sides of her dress and pulled Colin by the hand. They ran with heads down toward the car. After they closed the doors, they laughed simultaneously. Both looked like wet rats, having run a quarter of a mile in the spontaneous thunderstorm.
“Colin, I don’t know when it was that I last felt so completely happy. That was exhilarating.” She wiped clumps of wet hair from her face. “My feet are soaked. Water is draining off my legs. It’s getting the seat wet.” She touched her skin and brushed the droplets to the floor of the car.
“Not to mention dangerous. Did you see that lightning?”
“Of course I did, but I’m ready to live dangerously. You know, stop being such a chicken? I’m such a prude, after all. Maybe becoming electrocuted would put me on the wild list.”
“I should’ve never said that, Claire. I was just trying to get you to go swimming with me last night. I’m sure you’re not a prude.”
He started the car and drove out of the downtown area, back toward the beach house. He noticed Claire had stopped talking. It was dangerous to be sitting next to a quiet woman, almost as dangerous as sitting next to one armed with a weapon.
“You’ve become kind of quiet,” he said, prodding her into some conversation. Maybe he’d taken it too far in the lifeguard shack. He didn’t know what overcame him. He was so attracted to her.
“What are we doing, Colin?” She fidgeted with her hands on her lap.
He made a right turn at the bridge and looked over at her. “I don’t know.”
“Please tell me I’m not some kind of quest. Something to make your time here more bearable, before you go and work for your father.” She paused, staring out of her window. When she spoke again, she didn’t look directly at him. She continued to look away, as if carrying on with the conversation to herself. “Actually, what more could it be? It’s not as if I’m your type or travel in any of the same circles. My circle wouldn’t even know your circle. You and I are from different poles of the planet. Still, I want to be correctly informed of the situation. And not that I’ve done it before…on purpose, but I had a college roommate that did it frequently. I believe they’re referred to as one-night stands, but she took it to a whole other level. A new guy almost every week. No one, incidentally, was harmed in any of her relations.” She scratched her chin. “Come to think of it, she might have been one of those sex-craved people. Like alcoholics. What do you call them?”
“Sexaholics?”
She laughed. He noticed she grabbed her mouth and fumbled with the hem of her skirt. “No, I don’t think she considered herself one of those. But she had a problem, I’m sure.”
Colin cleared his throat and pulled at his water-logged shirt. “Okay, I can assure you I’m not one of those people. And as far as we go, I’m not sure what it is. I find myself attracted to you, Claire. I can be myself around you. You don’t judge me. When I talk about having to go to work for my father, your very presence takes away the resentment I feel about it. Not to mention you’re beautiful. Have I told you how beautiful I think you’ve become since I last saw you? Not that you weren’t then—it’s just that you were Mallory’s friend. And I never paid much attention to the things around me. I was too busy trying to escape my father and his hold on my future.”
She blushed. “I’m certainly happy you can be yourself around me. I know I’ve not had this much fun in a very long while. When I’m with you, I don’t think about all the stuff in my life that sucks. I don’t feel as alone when I’m around you. As if you can take away all the sadness I’ve felt for all these years, being the only one to take care of my mother.” She looked down at her hands, stroking them nervously. “If this is nothing more than this moment, I’m all right with it. I don’t want to feel alone, if only for a day or a week. If that’s what it’s to be. I know this is the last time I’ll be spending my summer with you and your family.”
“I always envied that about you.” He kept his eyes on the road and slowed up at their turn.
“What?”
“That at the end of our time here, you were able to leave.”
“That’s crazy. And stupid, a little bit. Do you realize every time I left, I was returning to a nine-hundred-square-foot apartment that I shared with my mother? It always took ten minutes for the shower to get warm and all night I was awakened by the sound of ambulances and people on the street yelling and cursing. Colin, you had the charmed life.”
“Yeah, I might have had the large penthouse with the maid and cook, but I also had my dad telling me what to wear, who to hang out with, what to think, what sports to play. My life wasn’t my own. It still isn’t.”
She moved her hand to his lap. “Then move. Move away and don’t tell him where you are. You’re old enough to be your own person, Colin. Be what you want—an aviator.”
Oh, but if only he could. If he could be as free as Claire. To experience the lack of restrictions she so nonchalantly spoke of and was handed in life. He’d give everything he had to just experience that independence. Suddenly the road home seemed depressing and short. Before he knew it, he had taken the turn to the gue
sthouse. The storm had blown over and left a gray stillness in its wake. Even the birds looked monochrome as they stretched their wings against the pale sky.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“This is the guesthouse. Frieda stays here in the winter, to get away from the howling winds and cold temperature of the cove.”
It was modest in size. A small, two-storied home, painted in a New England bluish color. Large hydrangea bushes suffocated the first-floor windows, puffing out with thick lavender and pink swells of blossoms. The single set of white painted stairs led to the front door. There was no canopy to shield it from the weather, making the white paint duller from years of wear, even cracking in some areas.
“Is anyone here now?”
“I hope not.” He parked the car and walked over to her side.
She followed him to the door, looking around at the trees that seemed to shelter the small dwelling from sunlight. He pulled a key down off the frame of the door and inserted it in the lock. He turned to look at her before turning the handle. All he could think about driving there was the chance to touch her again. To know what it felt to taste her and feel her naked skin against him. He wanted to experience her liberating spirit. If only just once.
“I can’t promise you anything, Claire. I can only promise that my motives are sincere. I want to be with you because I think I’ve finally fallen for my sister’s vacationing friend.”
She looked down and took his hand and led him inside. Her eyes told him she shared his desires.
∞ ∞ ∞
After they made love, Colin stared into Claire’s eyes as she lay on the pillow beside him. If he thought he was smitten with her before, he knew he was in trouble now.
“What are you thinking, Colin Prescott?”
She rose up on her arm, pulling the sheet over her exposed breasts. His insides kept sparking, just looking at her. She rubbed the stubble on his cheek with her finger, smiling at him.
“How pretty you are.”
“That’s standard issue after-love-making talk, I suppose. I want to know the dark crevices of your mind. What lurks in the pitch blackness of it? The raw emotional areas.”
“You’re going to think it’s just more standard issue bull.” He shook his head and stared at the ceiling.
“No, come on. I promise. What?” She pushed his arm.
He rose up and stared at her, touching her hair. “I never thought I could feel this way about someone.” Her milky skin was pure. Her brown eyes were sincere. There was no pretense with Claire. With all her perfection, it was making all his thoughts about her the noblest. She was like truth serum to his very core. Just lying next to her eased him. With Claire, everything was better.
She sighed contently with a satisfied smile on her face. “I suppose if you’d not had blinders on in the past, maybe we’d have done this before. Then maybe you wouldn’t have been so eager to leave the country, and I wouldn’t have felt so lost for all these years.” She pulled the sheet over her head. “I can’t believe I just said that. Please erase it from your memory. I’m acting as if it would’ve happened, that we would’ve somehow ended up together. I’m sorry. I know I’m talking nonsense. I said this was going to be nothing and so it is. We have nothing in common, practically.”
“Don’t say that, Claire. I wasn’t ready back then, for something like this. I still had a chip on my shoulder from Dad. I couldn’t get away fast enough from him. Nothing could have stopped me from going. But I’m beginning to realize I have a say in my life and you make me want to find the courage to say what I really want.” He pulled the sheet from overtop her head. “And not taking over the company is only one aspect of it.”
He drew her out of hiding and kissed her lips. He had no idea the feeling for one girl could supply him with the determination it took to change his life.
Chapter Six
Secrets of the House
Dinner was a little less crazy the second night at the beach house. Frieda managed to pull off a culinary delight of perfectly cooked tenderloin with a warm pink center, loaded baked potatoes topped with sour cream and chives, and grilled corn on the cob; each of the kernels had a crunchy browned texture to it. Her dessert was even better: Mr. Prescott’s favorite, crème brûlée. Claire wondered whether it was a peace offering for having forgotten to call the air conditioner repair guy the month before.
“Dad, can I talk to you tonight after dinner?” Colin seemed to be antsy through dinner, dropping his knife a few times. The sound of the silverware clashing onto the white china made all eyes turn toward him each time.
Claire thought now that it wasn’t because of their secret he was all thumbs, but because he was nervous to talk to his dad about his changed course of life—the one he wanted for himself.
“Colin, the Yankees’ game is tonight. They’re playing the Red Sox. I’ll be parked in front of the ol’ boob tube. Tomorrow would be a better time, son.” He slapped his bubbly tummy with his chunky fingers, signaling the dinner was successfully at rest in his stomach.
“Sure, I’ll talk to you then.”
Claire could see the disappointment in his eyes as he lowered his head. He had been so happy a couple of hours ago. The thought of them together in the cottage made her all warm inside. Images of lava cascading down a mountainside came to her mind when she flashbacked to the moment. The thought of how commanding his body felt riding on top of hers, how his fingers squeezed into her hands as he clutched them overtop her head. Red, boiling liquid amassed inside her with these images, flowing at blistering temperatures. Like one of those sexaholics they were talking about earlier, she could see how someone could be addicted to the sensation. She was wondering when she could feel it all over again.
“It sure did take you two a long time to get Italian ice. Jason and I wanted to use the car to go shopping. There was nothing else to do with that storm that came out of nowhere.”
Claire looked at Colin to answer his sister. She wasn’t sure what protocol was for lying in the Prescott family. In her family of two, she never had the need to lie. She had an open line of communication with her mother. When she’d go to the parties in high school, she’d tell her mother the person’s name and address of where it was. There was never a need to hide anything from each other. Even the time Claire lost her virginity in college with Rex, the guy who was going down in history as the biggest mistake of her life. He had only pretended to be in love with Claire to get into her pants. She remembered calling her mother and crying on the phone like a baby the next morning from her dorm room.
“Mom, I woke up and he’s gone. No note, nothing. When I just called him, he said he wanted to have some space. He told me I was getting too needy for him.” She grabbed another tissue from the box on her bed and blew her nose. “What does that even mean?”
“Honey, that means he got what he wanted and now he’s gone. I told you to make sure your first time was with a guy you loved and he loved you back. I only heard you mention this Rex guy’s name two times. One included that you weren’t sure what was up with the way he wore his hat backward all the time. Not once were you gasping for air that you hadn’t talked to him in the last thirty minutes. That’s the kind of love I was talking about before you give yourself to someone. Were you even dating him exclusively?”
“Not really. I don’t know.” She bit her fingernail and searched the walls for an answer written on them. She’d been exclusive with him, but she hadn’t checked to make sure it was a shared decision. And the hat comment was true. He didn’t even take it off while they made love. Was it love they were making? She was sure he was only waiting for the score. In fact, he yelled the word “score” right before it was over. The horror, to think he was her first.
“But I thought I was beginning to like him like that. He was witty, funny, and seemed to like me back. He picked me a handful of dandelions and told me to make a wish and blow. It was so corny, yet so cute. He told me he hoped he was one
of the wishes I wished for.” Her tone changed from lovesick to irritation. “And quite frankly, I’m tired of being the only virgin on campus, Mother. You should hear all the talk of these girls. I have the word loser written on my forehead and they know it.”
“Baby girl, erase him from your memory. Never let him enter your mind again. And for goodness’ sakes, Claire, dandelions? They’re weeds, honey. Wait for someone to bring you roses and even then, check their intentions. Anyway, the first dud never counts. It’s like how I always have to throw away the first pancake when I make them. The second one is always better. And I never want to hear you say you’re a loser. You’re bright, funny, and the best thing in my life.”
Claire wondered what her mom would think about Colin as a love interest. Who happened now to be looking like a seasoned liar. His expression never changed when he told the untruth matter-of-factly.
“We got to the place and it was closed, so I drove Claire to the one at Mission Point.”
“What? That’s almost an hour away. Did you want it that badly, Claire?”
Claire swallowed hard. “You know me and my Italian ice.”
It wasn’t technically a lie. She did love the stuff, but now she was wondering whether Colin was turning out to be another Rex. The only difference being she was stuck at his house and he couldn’t leave so easily.
After the evening porch time with the family and retelling stories to Jason about some of Claire and Mallory’s tricks of the past, Claire excused herself to bed. She wanted to get away and be by herself—to try to make sense of all that happened and what it meant for her…and Colin. She felt something for him…something more than a one-time thing. Even if she said she’d be okay if that’s all it was. She certainly didn’t want to make the mistake of falling in love with him if he didn’t feel the same way. Guys would tell you anything when they were naked, lying beside you. It was the surest way to get a false positive result about anything.
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