Beach Reads Boxed Set

by Marie Force

  “Who’s the oldest?”

  “That’d be me. I’m two years older than Court and four years older than Coop.”

  Ted chuckled. “I don’t even know how old you are.”

  “Thirty-three. And you’re thirty-seven, right?”

  He nodded. “Thirty-eight in September.”

  “What day?”

  “The fourth.”

  “September fourth.” She rested her chin on her hand as she gazed at him. “That day will never be the same now.”

  “When’s your birthday?” he asked with a smile.

  “January ninth.”

  “And that day will never be the same for me.” He drained the last of his juice. “What about your parents?”

  “They still live in upstate New York where we grew up.”

  “What town?”

  “Saratoga Springs.”

  “I went to the horse races there with my grandparents when I was a kid,” he said. “A few times, in fact.”

  “I wonder if I was there! We used to go all the time.”

  He reached for her hand across the table. “Maybe we met decades ago and were fated to find our way back to each other.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “Do you believe in such things?”

  “I do now.”

  He kissed her hand. “What I want more than anything at this moment is to take you to bed and make love to you until you forget every other man you’ve ever known.”

  “I already have,” she said breathlessly. “There’s only you.”

  He kept her hand at his mouth. “But I want it to be perfect, and between driving all night and work and thinking about you and thinking about you being in bed with my friend, I haven’t slept in what feels like a week. I’m so tired.”

  She stood up and gave his hand a gentle tug to bring him with her.

  “We need to clean up in here,” he said.

  “Later.”

  He followed her into the living room. “Let me run out to the car and get my bag.” He returned a few minutes later with a sheepish grin on his face. “I didn’t even lock my car before.”

  “That’s dangerous in this city. Especially a car like yours.”

  “I wasn’t thinking clearly when I got here.”

  Her smile was coy. “And are you now?”

  He shook his head. “I’m beginning to understand that I’ll never think clearly again.”

  With her hands on his hips, she brought him close to her. “The honeymoon period will end one day, and you’ll be able to think again. We both will.”

  “It’s not going to end.” He brought her close enough to kiss. “It’s never going to end.”

  She led him into the hallway where she pointed out the bathroom and her office in the spare bedroom. Her bedroom walls were painted a pale lilac. A framed Georgia O’Keefe print in full, glorious red hung over an elaborate wrought iron gate that served as a headboard. The bed was rumpled from her earlier rest, so she straightened it and turned down the other side for him. More books were piled on the bedside table next to a framed photo of two blond boys who he assumed were her nephews.

  Ted put his bag on the white whicker chair in the corner and dug out his toothbrush. “Save my place. I’ll be right back.” When he returned, she took her turn in the bathroom. Ted tugged his T-shirt over his head and kicked off his flip-flops. When she came back, he was looking out the window as the sun began to rise, casting pale light on the flowers in her tiny backyard. The rustle of silk told him she had taken off her robe.

  She came up behind him, looped her arms around him, and rested her face against his back. “You feel so good.”

  He put his hands on top of hers. “I can’t believe I’m here with you like this—in your room, getting ready to go to bed together like we’ve been doing it forever.” He turned to her and ran his hands over her nightgown. “This little number has been playing a big part in my fantasies since I first saw it the other night.”

  She smiled. “I have a bunch of them.”

  “I want to see them one at a time, first on you and then in a heap on the floor.”

  She giggled. “That can be arranged. Come on. You need some sleep.”

  “I’m wondering if I’m going to be able to sleep with you next to me.”

  “You will.”

  He dropped his shorts, got in next to her, and reached for her. “Finally,” he sighed. “Finally in bed with you.” With a finger to her jaw he tipped up her face so he could see her eyes. “There’s nowhere on earth I’d rather be, Caroline.”

  “I’ve waited so long for you. I thought I’d never find you.”

  “Now that you have, I’m never going to let you go.” He kissed her, and for a moment she let him. Then she pulled away to close his eyes with her hand.

  “Sleep,” she whispered.

  Keeping his eyes closed, he said, “I have more questions.”

  “Two more and then sleep.”

  “Who’s your best friend?”

  “Tiffany Bartlett Wallingbrook.”

  He opened one eye to see if she was serious. “Is she as prissy as her name?”

  Caroline laughed. “She’s the sweetest girl I’ve ever known, and she’s been my best friend since first grade. I have a picture of us in Brownies together.”

  “I’m going to need to see that.”

  “After you sleep.”

  “Where’s Tiffany Bartlett Wallingbrook now?”

  “She went to Emory College in Atlanta and married Brett Wallingbrook, son of the now ex-governor of Georgia. They live in Atlanta with their daughters Savannah and Augusta, and Brett’s on his way to a career in politics, too.”

  “They named their daughters Savannah and Augusta?”

  “Sure did. If they had a boy he was going to be Macon.”

  Ted laughed quietly as sleep closed in on him. “Augusta’s lucky she was a girl,” he said. “Can I ask my second question?”

  “Well, technically it’s your third, but only if you promise to sleep after.”

  “Mmm,” he mumbled in agreement as his breathing became heavier. “What are you most afraid of?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Losing you now that I’ve finally found you.”

  He wrapped his leg around her and pulled her tight against him to let her know he’d meant it when he said he would never let her go.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Smitty knew he was being a masochist when he asked his driver to take him down Caroline’s street on the way to the financial district in lower Manhattan on Monday morning. The car and driver were one of the perks of partnership that he took full advantage of since battling his way from one end of the congested city to the other used to be his least favorite part of the work day. He usually used the time in the car to make phone calls and check his e-mail as well as the Tokyo and London exchange numbers on his BlackBerry. But today he stared out the window without seeing much of anything.

  The Lincoln Town Car turned onto Caroline’s street, which was still quiet at six thirty. Smitty fixed his eyes on her front door and had he not looked away in pain over what had transpired there yesterday he might have missed the black Mercedes with the unmistakable Massachusetts plates: ETD3MD. Smitty had been there the Christmas morning two years earlier when Lillian had given each of the doctors Duffy the vanity plates: ETD1MD for Theo, ETD2MD for Ed, and ETD3MD for Ted. They had been embarrassed by the silly—and vain—gift, but they never would have said so to Lillian, who had been delighted by her clever idea.

  Smitty had thought he was mad before, but what he felt now was just rage—pure white-hot rage. That motherfucker didn’t waste any time. Was he on his way here when I was still with her? Are they in her bed right now making up for lost time? Son of a bitch.

  He admitted to himself right then that he had hoped to somehow salvage his friendship with Ted, despite what had happened. He had hoped his longtime friend would manage to explain his actions in a way Smitty could live with so they coul
d continue to be friends. But all those hopes evaporated the minute he spotted that car parked on her street.

  “Mr. Smith?” the driver was saying. “Mr. Smith?”

  Startled out of his thoughts, Smitty said, “Yes?”

  “Have you seen what you needed to see here?”

  “Yes. I’ve seen more than enough.”

  Still reeling, Smitty rode the elevator to the thirty-sixth floor. His large office overlooked the footprint of what used to be the World Trade Center towers. Today, though, he didn’t take the time to look out and remember. He dropped his briefcase on his cluttered desk and went straight to the senior partner’s office.

  Bill Kepler’s assistant waved him in.

  With a perfunctory knock, Smitty walked into Kepler’s massive office with its panoramic view of Manhattan, the Hudson River, and New Jersey in the distance.

  “Morning.”

  “Hey, Smitty, come on in. I was just talking about you. Were your ears ringing?”

  Smitty didn’t notice the joking smile on his boss’s face nor did he care why Kepler had been talking about him, but he knew better than to be curt to the man who had been so good to him in the ten years since he had joined the firm. “No ringing ears. What’s going on?”

  “I just got off the phone with James King. He’s thrilled with the latest report and was singing your praises.”

  “That’s good to hear. I need to give him a call today to run a few new ideas by him, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  Kepler sat back in his large chair and eyed Smitty with interest. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve decided to see to the Australia project personally. I just wanted you to know I’m on a flight to L.A. tonight.”

  Kepler’s surprise showed on his face. “I thought you were sending Peter.”

  “I thought about it this weekend, and it’s something I’d like to take care of myself.”

  “Is something else going on? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have you handle it, but it never occurred to me that you’d want to.”

  Smitty shrugged. “It interests me. It’s as simple as that.”

  Kepler brought his hands together in an A frame under his chin as he thought it over. “You’d be able to maintain your accounts from Sydney, I presume.”

  Smitty knew he meant James King’s account in particular. “Of course.”

  Kepler leaned forward to dig a thick file out of a stack on his desk. “Here’s the file on the Jergenson Investment Company. As I mentioned in the partner meeting the other day, Norman Jergenson died two months ago. His daughter, Marjorie, is seeking a buyer, which fits well with our plans to expand into the Australian market. She approached us first and isn’t entertaining other offers until we make a decision. I got the sense when I talked to her last week that she’s primarily concerned with her employees and wants to find a buyer who’ll retain as many of them as possible.”

  “If everything checks out I’d envision a name change but not much else,” Smitty said as he flipped through the file. “Is that what you have in mind?”

  “Exactly. If you’re not liking what you see with Jergenson, let me know, and we’ll have you take a look at some of the other possibilities while you’re there.”

  “I will.”

  “Marjorie mentioned they have an apartment in their office building that’s available to whomever we send for the due diligence study.”

  “That makes it easy.” Smitty stood up and shook Kepler’s hand.

  “Marjorie’s, um, what’s the word I’m looking for . . . She’s prickly. Well, you’ll see what I mean. I’m sure you can handle her.”

  Smitty nodded in agreement. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”

  Kepler gave him another measuring look. “Have a safe trip.”

  Smitty returned to his own office and closed the door. Reaching for his cell phone, he dialed Chip at his midtown office. When he learned Dr. Taggert was with a patient, he left a message and called Parker.

  “Hey, you just caught me,” Parker said. “I’m due in court in fifteen minutes.”

  “I can call you later.” Smitty’s nerves were raw as he took the steps necessary to make a clean getaway.

  “I’ve got a few minutes. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to let you know I’m going to be in Sydney for the next month or two.”

  “Huh? What’s in Sydney?”

  Smitty filled him in on the trip but not his reason for going.

  “Wow, well, that’s a bummer. You’ll miss the rest of the summer in Newport.”

  “I know. You guys can decide if you want to bring in another roommate. I don’t care about the money.”

  “It won’t be the same without you.”

  “You definitely won’t eat as well,” Smitty joked.

  Parker laughed. “That’s a fact.”

  “There’s, ah, one other thing I wanted to tell you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Caroline and I broke up.”

  “You did?” Parker asked, shocked. “Why?”

  “Well, it didn’t seem fair to ask her to sit around while I’m gone for a month, especially when we both know it’s not going the distance.”

  “That’s not the impression you’ve been giving us.”

  “It’s either there or it isn’t.” Smitty winced. “In this case, it wasn’t.”

  “Jeez, Smitty, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. I really thought you might’ve found the one for you.”

  So did I, Smitty thought. “The search continues. Any progress with your situation?”

  “Not yet, but in a few days I hope to be able to say more about it.”

  “Well, good luck. Send me an e-mail, and let me know what happens.”

  “I will.”

  “Can you do me a favor and tell Duff what’s going on? I’ve tried to call him a couple of times today, and all I get is his voicemail. I don’t want to leave a three-minute message, so do you mind filling him in?”

  “Sure, no problem. Keep in touch while you’re down under, you hear?”

  “Oh, you’ll be hearing from me, don’t worry.”

  “Take care of yourself, Smitty.”

  “Will do.”

  Smitty hung up and when Chip called twenty minutes later, he had almost the same conversation with him. Finally, he called Mitzi on Block Island.

  “Hi, honey, this is a nice surprise,” she said in that breathless voice of hers.

  “Thanks for the fabulous weekend. You and Lillian really know how to throw a party.”

  “It was fun, wasn’t it? It’s so sweet of you to call.”

  “I also wanted to tell you I’m going to be in Australia for the next month or so for work.”

  “Oh, no! You’ll miss all of August in Newport.”

  “I know, but it was a great opportunity to spend some time in another country, so I didn’t want to pass it up.”

  “Caroline must be beside herself.”

  Actually she’s beside your son in bed at the moment. “We broke up yesterday.”

  “Oh, Smitty,” Mitzi gasped. “What happened?”

  “Just wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”

  “I was so sure about her. We all liked her so much. I’m sorry.”

  “I am, too. Well, I need to get back to work so I can get to the airport on time this afternoon.”

  “I’m glad you called. Are you all right, honey?”

  “I’m disappointed,” he said, putting it mildly. “But I’ll survive. I always do.”

  “I’m here if you need me. You know that, right?”

  Touched by her support, he said, “I sure do.”

  “Send us a postcard from Australia.”

  “You got it. Give everyone my love, and thanks again for a great time this weekend.”

  “We love you, Smitty. You remember that.”

  “I will,” he whispered, surprised when his eyes filled. “Thank you.”

  Smitty left Kennedy on a six o
’clock flight that got him into Los Angeles at eight forty-five p.m. Pacific time. At LAX, he killed almost three hours in The Qantas Club before boarding an eleven fifty flight to Sydney. Fourteen hours and thirty-five minutes of first-class luxury later, he landed in Sydney where it was Wednesday morning. Somewhere over the Pacific he had lost Tuesday, but he didn’t care. Tuesday would have been a shitty day anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ted chased Caroline in the fog. Screeching gulls, pounding surf, and powdery sand beneath his feet at the beach. The soft breeze had captured her long blond hair and the skirt of her flowing white dress. Two blond children ran in circles around her legs, making her laugh with delight. Ted tried to catch up to them, but no matter how hard he ran, he couldn’t reach them. When they began to fade from sight, he called out to them.

  “Hey,” Caroline whispered in his ear. “You’re dreaming.”

  Ted came awake slowly and was disoriented for a brief moment. “I couldn’t get to you.” His voice was hoarse from sleep. “And then you began to disappear.”

  “I’m right here.” She put her arm around him and rested her head on his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “There were two kids.” He twirled a lock of her long hair around his finger. “Two blond kids.” He leaned in to kiss her. “If our children have anything other than blond hair, you and the postman are going to be in a lot of trouble.”

  She smiled and looked up at him, her green eyes shimmering with emotion. “Our children,” she sighed. “Did we have boys or girls?”

  “I couldn’t tell.” He yawned and stretched. “What time is it?”

  “Two thirty.”

  He turned to see if she was serious. “Get out. Really?”

  She grinned and nodded.

  “We slept for nine and a half hours?”

  “You slept for nine and a half hours.”

  He winced. “How long have you been awake?”

  “About two hours.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Why? I had the best time watching you sleep.”