Take Me To The Beach

by K. L. Grayson, Karina Halle, A. L. Jackson, Marni Mann, Monica Murphy, Devney Perry, Kristen Proby, Rachel Van Dyken

  Sitting up, he lets out a deep bark.

  “Now you sound like Coop.”

  I glance at the sweats I’ve been wearing for two straight days. No woman is worth this. Surely it won’t kill me to talk to her, if that’s what she wants.

  Mind made up, I take a quick shower and get dressed. I slip my feet into a pair of Nikes, grab my keys, yank open the front door, and plow straight into a body. Grabbing Mo’s arms, I make sure she’s steady.

  She blinks up at me. Her puffy eyes are red, lips swollen. My stomach twists in knots. I get a whiff of her strawberry shampoo and without fail, I’m reminded of a blanket, a six-pack of beer, my favorite country song playing on the radio, and Mo’s soft moans as we made love under the stars. My heart flops around in my chest, and I have to take a step back. It’s too much, and without the cover of anger, I’m not ready to be this close to her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was hoping we could talk.” She bites her lower lip and glances at the keys in my hand. “I can come back if this is a bad time.”

  “Mo—”

  “Just so you know, I’m not going to let this go.”

  “I know.” I rub the back of my neck. “I was actually coming to find you.”

  She shifts on her feet, a nervous habit that she’s had for as long as I can remember. “You were?”

  I nod. “I told you I wanted you to start from the beginning, and then I walked away before you could finish. That wasn’t fair to you, and I apologize.”

  She looks down at her feet, and I follow her gaze. Mo’s toes peek out from the tips of her sandals. They’re painted a pale aqua color—odd choice if you ask me, but what do I know? The corners are chipped and worn—the way my heart has felt this past week. It’s time to move forward.

  I clear my throat, catching Mo’s eye, and gesture over my shoulder. “Would you like to come in, or we can stay out here?”

  “I don’t care where we go, Rhett, just somewhere quiet where we can talk.”

  Coop lives off of Route 143. His closest neighbor sits a mile down the road, and the only sounds are birds chirping and the light rumble of thunder off in the distance. And, if we stay out here, the smell of the impending rainstorm will distract me from the smell of Mo.

  I motion for her take the chair while I prop myself up on the banister of the front porch.

  “Okay, Mo, you said you had more to tell me. I’m listening.”

  Monroe

  Rhett’s eyes are ringed by dark circles, the dark strands of his hair are sticking this way and that, and the stubble across his jaw looks like it hasn’t seen a razor in days.

  I hate seeing him like this.

  “You told me you slept with Charlie, hung up on me, wanted to call back and tell me it was all a lie, but you couldn’t make yourself do it. That’s where you left off.”

  His voice cuts through the air, along with a sharp gust of wind, and I look him in the eye.

  “It took a few weeks, but my head finally cleared enough to catch up with my heart, and I knew I had to come clean. I knew I couldn’t live the rest of my life with you thinking the worst of me, and I shouldn’t have let Nikki tell me what to do; I just didn’t know how to go about telling you. It couldn’t be over the phone. I wanted to talk in person, show you how sorry I was. Then Coop called one night and told me you’d be in town for your parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary party.”

  Rhett’s face pales as I speak.

  “I spent the last of the money in my savings account to buy a dress—”

  “And I showed up with a date.”

  I’ll never forget the pain that ripped through me when Rhett walked in with a beautiful blonde. “I couldn’t believe you’d moved on so quickly.”

  “I hadn’t,” he says softly.

  “At the time, I didn’t know who she was, but I recognized her the second you two walked into the bar last week. It was Nikki.”

  “Shit,” he groans. Pushing his fingers into his hair, he steps off the porch to pace alongside his truck. “We weren’t together,” he says. “She was the daughter of my manager, learning her father’s trade, and I didn’t want to show up alone and risk seeing you there with Charlie.”

  “When I saw you out on the dance floor with Nikki, I realized I’d already lost you.”

  He shakes his head, confused. “You hadn’t lost me. I was hurting, but I would’ve forgiven you. I would’ve taken you back.”

  “I lost you long before I broke up with you, Rhett. One look at you and I could tell your time away from home had changed you. Your shaggy hair was gone, styled in one of those preppy spikes we always made fun of, and you were wearing a suit. Every other guy at the party was in flannel and denim, but not you. You were in a tailored suit, Rhett.”

  “I was still the same person.”

  I shake my head, swallowing hard as the memory passes through me. “It didn’t seem that way, and I didn’t fit with you at all. I was so proud of you, though—proud that you’d gotten out of this town and made something of yourself, and proud that you looked happy, even if your happiness wasn’t shared with me.”

  “God, Mo, why didn’t you come talk to me? Slap me across the face and force me to listen to you?”

  “I was going to…” I tell him. “I was waiting until you were alone, so I hung back from the party, watched from afar. But she wouldn’t leave your side. At one point she spotted me watching you, and I thought for sure I’d been caught, but then she smiled, wrapped her hand around your arm, and pulled you onto the dance floor. She kept touching you and pressing herself close to you, all while keeping an eye on me. Looking back, I think she knew exactly who I was. I’ve never wanted to punch someone so badly in my entire life. I wanted to rip her away from you, scream that you were mine, but I’d already made sure that wasn’t the truth.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Finally you stepped away, and I followed you.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Rhett huffs, stepping back onto the porch. “Mo, I don’t know what you saw, but—”

  “I saw everything.”

  His head falls.

  “She followed you into the woods. I saw the surprised look on your face when you realized she was behind you.”

  If I close my eyes, it’ll put me right back there in the trees—the smell of grassy earth, pine needles, and my dime-store perfume. So I keep my eyes open.

  “You reached for her hand, and it felt like you were tearing my heart out of my chest.” My voice cracks as I sob, and I put a hand over my mouth, trying to hold it in. “God, Rhett. I watched you pull her close, push her up against a tree, and—”

  “Stop. I get it; I was there,” he growls. “Jesus, Mo, why did you watch that?”

  “I had to,” I whisper. “It was the only way to keep from throwing myself at you down the road, from begging you to forgive me and take me back. I had to let you go, Rhett.”

  The clouds roll in, bringing some much-needed rain. The first drops fall, offering nothing more than a slight drop in temperature.

  “Shit, Mo, I—”

  “Seeing you with Nikki was awful, but it was my fault. I’m the one who pushed you toward her, so please don’t apologize. If I hadn’t lied to you, I know you wouldn’t have slept with her.”

  “I don’t even know what to say. This is all so screwed up.”

  “That’s the whole story. I needed you to know I’d planned on making it right.”

  Lips pressed together, he nods. “I’m really sorry you saw that. I’m still processing how you got to the point where you thought you were protecting me by pushing me away. I’m trying to get there, Mo. And I’m relieved you didn’t cheat on me, but you still destroyed us, destroyed me, and I don’t know how to get past that.”

  “What would you have done if you’d found out I had to sell dad’s business and quit school so I could take care of him?”

  “I would’ve come back.”

  “Exactly.” I stand up and take a s
tep toward him. “You would’ve dropped everything to come back and help me.”

  “Of course I would’ve, Monroe, because that’s what people do for those they love. They don’t push them away or create irreparable damage, they support them and love them, even if it costs them something in return.”

  I flinch at his words but refuse to let them tear me down. Look at him now—all he’s achieved. Of course I did the right thing. “And what would you have done? Gone to work at your dad’s ranch?”

  “I would’ve made an honest living—”

  “You know as well as I do that you wouldn’t have been happy here,” I argue. “Your life is out there, riding bulls and chasing the buckle.”

  “My life was you, Mo. That dream I was chasing was supposed to have you in it.” His breaths come out in harsh pants, as though he just ran a mile, which is pretty much how I feel.

  Several seconds pass as we stare at each other, neither one of us making a move, and I know this might be my last chance to lay it all on the line.

  “Rhett.” I reach for his hand, and he doesn’t pull away. I lace our fingers together. “I’m still in love with you. A lot has changed over the years, but my love for you has remained constant and steady. However you feel about me now, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I would never do anything to hurt you again.”

  Curling his fingers around mine, Rhett tugs me forward until my body is pressed against his. I can feel his heart beating against my chest. The soft patter of rain pings against the gutters. There’s a gust of wind and a couple of raindrops hit my face.

  Rhett lifts his finger, wipes them away, and leans his forehead against mine.

  “I want to believe you, but I’m not sure I’m there yet.”

  I nod, laying my head on his shoulder. I take a deep breath, inhaling his warm, spicy scent, trying to catalogue everything about him that I can.

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever get there, Mo.”

  Swallowing, I shift and kiss his cheek. He sighs, moving his face a millimeter to the left. I press my lips to the corner of his mouth. His warm breath fans the side of my face, and I pull back before I push him too far.

  His hand curls around the back of neck, and he brings my mouth to his for a gentle kiss. There’s nothing passionate about it, and all too soon he opens his eyes and steps back.

  “I’m sorry, Mo.”

  I lay my finger against his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is on me, and I’ll just have to live with it.”

  A tiny sliver of my heart had hoped he’d grant me forgiveness—and if I was real lucky, another shot at his heart. Disappointment races through me. Walking away from Rhett after coming clean feels even more final than hanging up after telling a lie.

  Hands shaking, stomach twisted, I take step after step toward my truck. A crack of lightning streaks through the sky, followed by a roll of thunder. Rain drips from my hair, seeping through my clothes and shoes, and I have to fight the urge to look back at Rhett. I can’t. If I do, I’ll drop to my knees and beg for any crumble of love he can salvage for me, and we both deserve much more than that.

  This is it. We’re finally done.

  Rhett

  I should think about this more, sleep on it for a few nights, try to determine the next step. But I’m damn tired of thinking, and each step she takes causes a sharp pain along the left side of my chest, leaving me feeling like I just screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me.

  I know now I can’t fuck her out of my system, like I thought I could when I first got back, and I don’t know what option that leaves me. But I can’t get myself to focus on any of that.

  Just as she makes it to her truck, I step up behind her. I push the door shut, spin her around, and press her back against it. Here she is: Monroe Danielle Gallagher, the only woman I’ve ever loved—soaking wet, chest heaving, and body tight with restraint.

  We lunge for each other at the same time.

  Our mouths slam together as her fingers slide into my hair. She turns my head and plunges her tongue into my mouth. I reach for her shirt, my hands slipping under the hem to find her soft, warm curves. We move together effortlessly, as though this is something we’ve done every day for the last six years.

  She moans into my mouth, her body melts against mine, and any and all control is lost. We’re a frenzy of hands and lips and teeth, grasping at each other, trying to get closer. My right hand slides down her back and along her hip, and when I grip her ass, she wraps her legs around my waist. My left hand rests at her lower back, holding her to me without putting too much stress on my shoulder.

  “Shit,” she huffs, trying to wriggle loose, but no way am I letting her down. “Your shoulder—”

  “Is fine. I just need you to hold on, Mo. Tighten those pretty legs around me and don’t let go.”

  Her arms and legs cinch around my body, and she’s latched onto me like a spider monkey. Fingers curled in the hair at the base of my neck, Mo guides my lips to hers as I move toward the front door.

  The cool rain falls in waves, soaking us to the bone, but it does nothing to calm the heat radiating from our bodies.

  “What about Coop?” she asks against my lips.

  “Not here.” We fumble our way into the house. My mouth slides down her throat, and Mo’s head falls back, exposing the milky skin of her neck.

  “We should talk, right?” she pants, holding my head to her neck as though she’s terrified I’ll move.

  Not a chance, sweetheart.

  “No.” I nip at her skin while kicking the bedroom door open, and once we’re through, I nudge it shut and flick the lock.

  “I don’t want you to regret this in the morning.”

  “Mo.” I lower her onto the bed, and she scoots to the center, propping herself up on some pillows. Her eyes are bright as she watches me with naked vulnerability. “The only thing I’m going to regret is if I let you walk out of here. I forgive you for what happened. I know it wasn’t entirely your fault. Nikki took advantage of your pain.”

  Her chin drops to her chest. I imagine she’s waited six years to hear me say that, and if she asked, I’d repeat myself over and over until she believed the words.

  I tip her chin up to look at me. “I need you to promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  “No more lies, baby. If we’re going to move forward in any capacity, there isn’t room for anything but the truth.”

  She nods, moisture pooling in her eyes, and I kiss her. This time isn’t hurried like the last. This time I slow it down a notch, promising with my mouth all the things my heart has yet to say.

  “Rhett?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Make love to me.”

  “Plannin’ on it.” Pushing up from the bed, I kick off my shoes and slip her sandals from her feet. Her eyes follow my every move. Careful not to lift my left arm too high, I reach behind my head and pull my shirt off. When I reach for my sweats, she sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes glued to my cock as I let my pants fall to the floor.

  “Your turn.” I crawl onto the bed, her eyes searing through me. When I undo the button of her shorts, she lifts her hips, allowing me to pull them off, along with her white cotton panties. Sitting up, she reaches for the bottom of her shirt, lifts it over her head, and flings it off to the side.

  “You are so beautiful, Mo.”

  The last time I looked down at her like this, sprawled out in front of me, I was too young to appreciate her—too young to understand the depth of what she was giving me. But that’s no longer the case. I’ve dreamed of her many times over the last six years, but my fantasies didn’t do her justice. Nothing compares to having her in my bed—hair fanned out, chest heaving, creamy skin begging for my mouth. I have to reach out to touch her to make sure she’s real.

  I slide my fingers over her abdomen. The muscles contract beneath my touch.

  She looks down, but I shake my head. “No, sweetheart, keep your eyes on me. Y
ou have nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve seen every inch of you, remember?”

  Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink. “It’s been a long time. My body has changed.”

  “Hasn’t been that long, and trust me, your body is perfect.”

  With a flick of the front clasp, her bra opens, her beautiful breasts spilling out. She shrugs out of it, and I lower my body to hers, scarcely able to believe this is happening.

  Monroe

  “Rhett,” I breathe, my eyes rolling back in my head as his lips wrap around my nipple. His hand finds my other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers while his other hand slips between my folds.

  Oh, God. I’ve been touched by men over the years—a few guys here and there who weren’t significant enough to tell anyone about—but no relationships or sex, because no one has been able to light my body on fire the way Rhett does. His fingers work with a practiced skill—coaxing me toward bliss.

  I’ve wondered several times over the last six years whether—should this ever happen—things would be as easy and good between us as they once were. Now I have my answer.

  It’s better.

  So much better.

  We move together like skilled dancers, never missing a step.

  His tongue is relentless, swirling and suckling first one breast and then then other, not stopping until they’re swollen and heavy. I close my eyes, only to have them to fly back open a second later when his mouth locks onto my clit.

  Unable to do anything but watch, I prop myself up on an elbow and look down. Rhett’s broad shoulders look even bigger between my thighs, and his tanned skin is a stark contrast to my pasty white, but we look good together. Like two pieces of a puzzle that fit in the most glorious of ways.

  Threading my fingers through his soft hair, I grip it tight. Lifting my hips, I hold his face while I grind against him.

  “Oh, Rhett,” I moan, feeling his tongue dip inside of me before pulling out and swirling around my swollen clit. “That feels so good.”

  He runs a finger down my slit, slipping it inside while his lips continue to move. My legs start to quiver, a slow burn igniting deep in my gut. Rhett must notice the shift in my body because a moan rumbles from his chest, the vibrations hitting me in all the right spots. With his face between my legs, I toss my head back against the pillow and let go. My body flies apart. A kaleidoscope of colors bursts behind my eyelids, and I tighten my knees around his head, my hips bucking against his face.