Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6

by Freethy, Barbara

"Go on," Jimmy encouraged when she hesitated. "They won't bite."

  The next one was of Alli up to her elbows in fish. The expression on her face was of pure disgust, and it brought a smile to Tessa's lips. "Serves her right.”

  "Why?"

  "Because Alli was always one to make a mess of things."

  "This wasn't Alli's mess, it was Sam's. She bailed him out. Don't you wonder why? Since she's divorcing the guy?"

  Tessa shrugged. She didn't want to think too long or too hard about Alli's motives. Instead, she flipped to the next picture and caught her breath as she saw a close-up of Sam's face. He was looking at someone or something with desire in his eyes, stark, raging desire. "When did you take this?"

  "I can't remember," Jimmy said.

  "Who is Sam looking at?"

  "I don't know."

  She looked over at Jimmy, catching a note in his voice that she didn't like. "You're lying."

  "I was studying him through my camera. I wasn't paying attention to what he was looking at."

  "Was it me?"

  "I told you, Tessa, I don't know."

  "Was it me, Jimmy?"

  "Do you want it to be you?" he asked, the laughter completely gone from his eyes. "Do you want him to look at you like that?"

  Did she? There was a fierceness in Sam's eyes that disturbed her, a wildness that she couldn't place as belonging to him. She set the photograph aside. "You like to stir the pot, don't you?"

  "It's amazing what you can see when you're not distracted by what you want to see."

  Tessa took another sip of her drink. "Is that some kind of pop photographer psychology?"

  "I've learned not to trust my eyes to see what's really there."

  "Well, maybe if I had a camera, I could do the same thing."

  "Or maybe you could just concentrate a little more."

  For a few minutes they sat in silence, staring into the orange-red flames of the fire. It was the first time Tessa could remember Jimmy being so quiet. Maybe it was this place, this small town that brought out the quiet side in men. Where she traveled, the circles she lived in, you had to speak loudly and often in order to be heard, to be seen. Even then it was doubtful anyone was really listening.

  Jimmy picked up her hand and played with her fingers, twisting a tiny silver ring on her baby finger. "Why do you always wear this?" he asked.

  "My mother gave it to me when I was ten. She wore it when she was a child. It's one of the few things I have of hers."

  "Was she like you or more like Alli?"

  "Me. We looked alike, and she's the one who got me started in modeling. She tried with Alli, but Alli never could figure out how to say the right thing at the right time."

  "Whereas you nailed it on the first try."

  "Pretty much. I felt my mother's expectations grow higher with every contest. Funny..."

  "What is?"

  "My parents have been gone for so long, but I can still hear my mother's voice in my head: 'Straighten up, Tessa. Hold your stomach in, chin up, think of your posture, be proud, there's a good girl.' Silly, huh?"

  "No. I can still hear my father's voice in my head: 'When are you going to get a real job? When are you going to put some money in a savings account, grow up, be responsible? You can't live on a plane forever, you know.' "

  She smiled at his mimicking tone. "You've never talked about your parents before."

  "There's not much to say."

  "Is your father dead?"

  "Oh, Lord, no."

  "So he said those things to you—when?"

  "A couple of days ago."

  "Is your mother alive, too?"

  "Yes, and my brother, the senator, is still kicking as well."

  "You're not close with your brother?"

  "I'm the black sheep, babe. Nobody gets close to the black sheep."

  "You're a lamb in wolf's clothing," she corrected.

  "Hey, don't ruin my rep."

  "You're not as bad as you make yourself out to be. In fact, you're a pretty good guy, you know that?”

  "But not quite good enough?"

  She turned sideways so she could look into his eyes. "What does that mean? Suffering from a lack of self-confidence? I find that difficult to believe."

  "You did ditch me for Sam today."

  She sighed and looked toward the fire. "Sam and I have some things to resolve. You know that."

  "How was the sailing trip anyway? You haven't said much about it."

  Because she didn't know what to say. She hadn't really enjoyed it that much. Being on the ocean had made her uneasy. Being with Sam had felt awkward. They'd almost kissed. They'd almost connected, but not quite. It was so frustrating she could scream. Even now, her insides were in turmoil.

  "Yoo, hoo, Tessa," Jimmy said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

  "It was fine. I'm not much of a sailor."

  "You must have done some sailing growing up here."

  "Not as much as you would think. I was busy with school and friends and did a lot of beachcombing, but I never really liked messing around with the boats. And Sam wasn't all that interested then." She hesitated, thinking back, wondering if she'd somehow missed the fact that Sam liked to sail. "No, I don't remember him that way. Sam hated working for his dad on Saturdays. He was always trying to get out of it so he could play with me."

  "Yet he ends up running a charter boat service. Odd how life turns out sometimes."

  "I don't think it's what he wanted to do, more like what he had to do after Alli got pregnant. His dad always wanted him to come into the business, and I suppose not finishing college, it was all he could do to support Alli and Megan." She looked back at him. "Sam told me that the business has grown so successful a group of investors wants to buy him out. He could either stay running it or just sell out and move on."

  Jimmy's eyes narrowed. "Move on with you?”

  "I didn't ask him that."

  "Why not? I thought you two could talk about anything."

  "We used to be able to. It doesn't seem as easy now," she admitted, reaching for her martini glass. It was almost empty. Oh, well, might as well go for broke, she thought, as she finished it.

  "Not to burst your little bubble, sweetheart, but I don't see Sam selling out. He has deep roots in this community. And he's got a wife and a daughter here. Okay, forget the wife," he said immediately as she opened her mouth to protest. "He still has a kid, and I think he's the kind of guy who probably wants to stick around and watch his kid grow up."

  She let out a sigh. "You're probably right. But it's so unfair the way things turned out. Don't you think there is a way Sam could keep his ties with Megan but have a chance at a life of his own?"

  "A life with you, don't you mean?" He tilted her chin up with his hand. "What are you going to do, babe? Retire? Settle here in Tucker's Landing? Be a housewife?"

  "It could be a home base," she said, shaking his hand away from her face. "I can live anywhere, Jimmy. Most of my assignments take me away from the home I have now. What's to say I couldn't change my address? What's to say we couldn't live in Portland or somewhere nearby, not exactly here, but close enough for Sam to get down to see Megan?"

  "You've done some thinking about this, haven't you?"

  "I've done little else."

  "You're a super-model, Tessa—a big-city girl with big dreams and a big bank account. Do you really believe you're going to be happy living here or even in Portland? Open your eyes. This isn't your life, as you told me so definitely the first day I got here. It still isn't."

  He was both right and wrong. She'd fled Tucker's Landing because of the pain, the betrayal, but being back home had reminded her that there was a part of her that was still small town. Of course, there was another part of her that liked to go to the theater and out to dinner and shopping. But those things could be had every now and then, enough to keep her satisfied.

  Jimmy smiled at her as if she were a young child dreaming of flying to the moon. "Have you even
looked at a newspaper since you've been here, Tessa?"

  "What does that have to do with anything?" she asked with annoyance.

  "Being here is like escaping to a remote island. And it's nice. I'm enjoying it myself. But forever? I don't think so."

  "When you're with the right person, it doesn't matter where you live."

  "Yeah, and Santa Claus still comes down chimneys. Of course it matters. Part of marriage is being compatible, being able to share a life that makes both people happy. If one compromises too much, in the end they'll both suffer."

  "Sam did it. He compromised. Why shouldn't I?"

  "I don't get why you suddenly want this guy so much. If you were so hot for him, why didn't you come back sooner and try to reclaim him?"

  "Because I didn't know that he wasn't happy," she cried, "that his marriage wasn't all right. I never figured them to be totally in love, but I guess staying together as long as they have made me feel like their bond was too strong to break, and I wasn't interested in being a home wrecker. But with Sam about to be free—don't you see, Jimmy? I suddenly have the chance to have what I lost all those years ago."

  "So you think," he said. "But let me give you something else to think about."

  "What--”

  He didn't let her finish, simply leaned over and kissed her full on the mouth. It was so unexpected, so shockingly hot and tingling. He tasted like vodka. He smelled like fire. He felt like a warm, desirable male and her body responded in kind. Her head told her to stop, to pull away, that he was making a mockery of what she'd just told him. But her body seemed unwilling to move, her lips opening instead of closing, her tongue dancing with his instead of lying dormant. Oh, God, what was she doing?

  Jimmy stopped before she did, making her feel even worse.

  "Why did you do that?" she demanded, when she could finally put words to feelings.

  "I thought you needed something else to think about."

  "We're just friends, Jimmy."

  "Of course we are."

  "I didn't want you to kiss me."

  "Of course you didn't," he said, getting to his feet. "I'll head back to the hotel."

  It was the right thing to do. He'd crossed the line of their friendship. But still, she didn't like to see him taking the glasses into the kitchen, reaching for his coat, leaving her alone...

  "You're going—just like that?" she asked, scrambling to her feet.

  He met her gaze head-on. "Yes, because you just gave me something to think about, too."

  "It's the fire and the martinis and the rain, that's all," she said helplessly. "We can forget it happened."

  "What if I don't want to forget?"

  "Why are you so serious all of a sudden?”

  "It hasn't been all of a sudden."

  His hard, sharp words made her wonder if she'd missed more than she realized.

  A crack of thunder rattled the house, and Tessa suddenly had something else to think about—the worsening storm.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," Jimmy said.

  "Wait! Are you sure you have to go now?" She glanced toward the windows as a streak of lightning lit up the room.

  He sent her a curious look. "You don't like the storm, do you? I remember that shoot we did when the hurricane was threatening. You kept popping Valium. I thought you were a drug addict at the time, but come to think of it, you just didn't like the wind, did you?"

  "My parents died on a night like this. It was right before Christmas," she said, squeezing her hands together. "They had a baby-sitter come over so they could do some shopping without us. Their car skidded in the rain and they went off an embankment and were killed instantly. All I remember about that night is the thunder and the lightning and wishing that my parents would come home, only they never did." She drew in a breath as his arms slid around her waist and he pulled her against his chest.

  "I won't leave you," he said huskily, stroking her hair.

  "I'm sorry. It's stupid. You're going to think I'm an idiot or worse."

  "Tessa, sweetheart, you don't want to know what I think, because it will scare you worse than this storm."

  * * *

  Alli felt the dock shift beneath her feet as a swell in the water lifted the boats up. She pulled the hood of her rain slicker tighter against her head, feeling the wind hit her like a runaway truck. She had hammered boards over her store windows, moved some of her more fragile items away from the door, and was now more than ready to get out of the storm, although she needed Sam's help to put a few heavy sandbags in front of the shop door.

  "Sam," she called, putting a hand over her eyes so she could spot him in the driving rain. "Sam?"

  She saw him as he hopped off the last of the boats and took another second to check the lines that held it in the slip. Although the harbor was usually well protected, unexpected high swells could rip the boats loose and send them into the wood pilings of the docks. She prayed that wouldn't happen. They couldn't afford damage to any of the boats.

  She shifted back and forth as Sam called out "One second" and leaned over to check something on the dock. Thunder rumbled over her, around her, inside her, shocking her back to a night a long time ago when she'd snuck downstairs after hearing the doorbell ring. There had been a policeman on the front steps. He had said her parents were...

  She couldn't think about that, not now, not when lightning lit up the sky, reminding her of how she had tried to hide away from the horrible truth, but the lightning kept chasing after her, lighting up every hiding place, until she could do nothing but hear the policeman's words over and over again.

  "The storm was bad. Everyone was inside. No one saw the car go into the canyon. We think the woman was alive for a while, but we didn't get to her in time."

  Alli felt the familiar bile rise in her throat as his words came home to her. The thought of her mother, strapped in a mangled car, barely alive, praying for someone to save them, but slowly dying while the storm raged around her, made Alli crazy. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the haunting words.

  Tessa thought their parents had died instantly. And Alli hadn't ever been able to tell her differently. Because Tessa had been so scared that night, climbing into bed with her as they waited for the front door to open. Tessa hadn't come downstairs with her; she'd stayed in bed, the covers up to her chin.

  Alli jumped again as lightning ignited the sky like an angry firecracker. She knew the thunder would follow. She was prepared. She was ready. But even so, she couldn't stop the terror that came with the deafening rattle.

  She turned and ran. She thought she heard Sam call after her. But she couldn't stop. She had to get somewhere safe. She ran past Sam's office. It was too close to the water; she had to get higher, somewhere safer. She could go to her car. But, no, then she'd have to drive. And she couldn't drive.

  Sam caught up to her as she struggled to put her key in the lock of her store. He took it out of her shaky fingers and unlocked the door for her. She ran inside and tried to turn on the light, but the power was gone.

  "Oh, God. Oh, God." She stood in the middle of the dark store, hugging herself.

  "It's okay, Alli." Sam switched on a flashlight and lit up the space between them. "You're all right. We're safe. We're safe," he repeated, reaching for her.

  She didn't walk, she ran into his embrace, pressing her face against his wet slicker, not caring that they were both soaking wet. She just threw her arms around his neck and held on tight. Sam reassured her with a constant stream of words that barely registered, but the soothing tone of his voice slowly eased her tension.

  "I'm sorry," she said after a few minutes. She tried to pull away from Sam but he wouldn't let her go. "I'm okay now," she told him.

  "I'm not," he muttered.

  She looked up at him and saw his eyes gleaming in the shadowy light. He pulled away from her and ripped apart the snaps of his slicker, taking it off and tossing it onto the floor.

  "Come here," he said.

  She stared at him
uncertainly, suddenly realizing the danger was no longer in the storm, but in him, in her.

  He cut the distance between them when she didn't move and put his hands on her hips in a way that reminded her of the way he held her when they made love, so she could feel him, all of him.

  She could almost feel him now, the anticipation of knowing what could come, how she could feel, overwhelming her senses. And when he took one hand off her hip to unzip her jacket, to toss it on top of his, all she could think of was how close their jackets were and how close they could be.

  He was warmer now, she thought, as she moved into his arms with a sweet familiarity. His shirt was soft against her cheek, and she could hear his heart beating, strong and fast. She breathed in and out, hoping for calm, for sanity, but her breath brought in his scent, his appeal, and with each molecule of air she wanted him more.

  "We—we can't," she forced herself to say, but she once again tightened her grip on his neck as the thunder rattled the display cases. "You're taking advantage, Sam. I wouldn't be hugging you like this if it weren't for the storm."

  "I know. It's the storm that's holding us together. It's not you—or me."

  Lightning lit up the store like the flash of a camera. For a minute Alli almost thought Jimmy had once again caught her on film. But the light faded, and when Sam turned off his flashlight they were surrounded by darkness.

  She wanted to let him go. She tried to let him go, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own, her fingers playing with the curls of hair at the back of his neck.

  "Megan--” She tried again to distract him.

  "Is fine. I don't want to drive in this. Do you?”

  "No." She paused. "You can really stop holding me now."

  "You can stop holding me, too."

  She was going to do just that when she felt Sam's lips touch her hair and her heart did a somersault at the phantom, feathery kiss. Her pulse began to race even as she told herself she didn't want this. She couldn't want this. But when Sam tucked a kiss into the curve of her neck, she shivered in anticipation, her body a traitor to her thoughts.

  "You still have that couch in your office," Sam murmured.

  "We're not going into my office," she said automatically.