Unbound (The Men of West Beach Book 2)

by Kimberly Derting

  This was my apology for the past weeks. My penance.

  After a few minutes, she gave up and her breathing slowed. She was exhausted. No big surprise. She’d had a shitty night, and on top of that, a shitty couple of weeks. She’d gone out of her way to make me admit that this was where I belonged.

  She’d been right, of course. And starting now, I’d do everything in my power to make it up to her.

  Starting now, I’d stop making excuses and stop being an asshole. I planned to make everything right between us so we could start from scratch.

  As a whole lot more than just friends.

  It was past three in the morning by the time I finally peeled myself away from Emerson. I’d refused to stay all night. I wasn’t as convinced as she was that her dad was all bluster. That he wouldn’t really beat my ass if he found me in her room.

  So I’d waited until Em was sound asleep, watching her a while, because, fuck, she was beautiful even when she slept. Her hair fell in wild waves around her face and she breathed deeply, her mouth open as she leaned heavily against the crook of my arm. It had been hard to go. To leave her, even knowing I’d see her again in the morning.

  I’d kissed her on the forehead, careful not to disturb her. Her eyelids fluttered and she’d grumbled under her breath as I drew my arm out from underneath her. But it was nothing coherent. As I eased off the mattress, I tucked the blanket around her and she was out again.

  Tomorrow night, we’d be going home and things would be different. There’d be no more sneaking around. No more nights apart. No more pretending. I didn’t know what that meant in the long run, when the gala was over and the summer came to an end. Emerson had always said she was leaving, and as far as I knew that hadn’t changed. For now, I’d settle for the time we had left and we’d deal with the details of everything else later.

  I was careful as I crept from her room, but there was no one around. The party had ended and the place was like a ghost town.

  It wasn’t until I was halfway across the terrace outside, easing around the pool’s edge on my way back to the pool house, that a sound stopped me.

  Not a sound . . . a sensation.

  I dug my phone from my pocket and looked at the screen.

  The text was clear.

  I wouldn’t be going home tomorrow with Emerson after all.

  EMERSON

  For the first time in almost a week, I woke up without the urge to punch someone in the throat. Instead I woke up with an entirely different urge.

  All thanks to Lucas. Lucas and his magical tongue.

  Grinning, I rolled over, stretching in my suddenly too-big and way-too-lonely bed. I’d definitely have to invite his tongue back for a visit.

  Lucas turned down my generous offer to stay the night, even after I’d done my best to convince him he could sneak out before anyone was up. Pre-season games hadn’t started yet, so my dad didn’t have any reason to roll out of bed early.

  I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, needing a little morning sexting to jump-start my day. It wasn’t quite ten, which meant we still had most of the day to kill until our flight home that evening. We didn’t have any big plans, so I was hoping I could ambush Lucas and repay him for the things he’d done to me the night before. Turnabout was fair play and all that.

  But I never got the chance to send any of the filthy offers that were playing through my head. The texts waiting for me on my phone must have come through while I was out cold, and suddenly what had turned into a perfect weekend was ruined.

  Aster needed me, the first one read. Just reading Aster’s name made me want to throw my phone against the wall. I had to force myself to keep reading.

  Gala trouble. Didn’t want to wake you. Catching the first flight out.

  What . . . the . . . hell?

  I shot upright. Lucas had left? Without me?

  Fill you in later. Sorry.

  He ended the thread with a sad-face emoji, as if that made up for the fact he’d just up and bailed on me.

  I thought about shooting back an emoji of my own, but according to the time stamp on his messages, he was probably in the air by now. Besides, I wasn’t sure they made an emoji for what I really wanted to convey.

  What could be so damned important—what kind of “gala emergency” was so dire—that he had to race back home at the ass crack of dawn to handle it?

  My first thought was to drain my savings account to hire a hit man on that bitch, Aster. My second thought was that this whole thing was Lucas’s fault, really. Aster beckoned and he jumped. He was her lap dog. Her vagina must be dusted with glitter and capable of shooting rainbows, because even I hadn’t achieved that level of control over him.

  The urge to throat punch someone was back and making my head pound like a mother. I kicked back the covers, realizing I was still wearing my dress from the night before. Sans underwear, thanks to stupid Lucas and his stupid tongue.

  I practically ripped at the thin fabric as I stripped it, and the memory of last night, from my body. Then I yanked on a pair of yoga pants and one of my dad’s old practice jerseys before stalking downstairs to the kitchen. Coffee might not cure what ailed me, but it would damn sure clear away some of the cobwebs that were making it hard for me to get my thoughts straight.

  Surprisingly, Seth was already up, and sitting all by his lonesome at the big kitchen table where we’d shared many family breakfasts. But unlike those occasions, he was stooped over and had his hoodie pulled up over his head, as if he could somehow block out his hangover—because if I knew anything, I knew Seth definitely had a hangover.

  Through the French doors that led outside, I saw my parents at one of the patio tables. With them, of course, was Bitsy. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought, just three old friends taking their morning coffee on the patio.

  But it wasn’t anyone else, it was Bitsy. And instead, my stomach twisted as I wondered how any of them could possibly think this was okay. How could my mom just turn a blind eye? How could my dad pretend he hadn’t been cozied up with that woman the night before? And how could Bitsy sit there, looking my mom in the face and pretend she was my dad’s business partner and nothing more?

  As Bitsy lifted a mug to her lips, all I could think about was how my mom had probably gotten up early to brew that coffee she was drinking. My mom who’d stayed behind every time my dad had run off when Bitsy had called because she’d needed him for urgent business.

  The exact same way Lucas had run off when Aster said she needed him.

  Not me, though. I would never play the part of my mother, no matter how magical Lucas’s tongue was.

  Turning away from the twisted threesome, I stalked back to the coffeemaker and poured myself a cup. I didn’t add my usual generous splash of creamer. I didn’t even add any sweetener. I drank it black and bitter and harsh, the way I deserved to drink it this morning.

  I was a selfish idiot. I always had been. That’s why I’d allowed myself to surrender so easily to Lucas. That’s why I wouldn’t accept it when he’d said we could only be friends—he’d tried to warn me, tried to keep me at arm’s length. And the whole time I’d refused to believe he was serious. Because I wanted him. I was greedy and competitive, and no never meant no to me.

  It was all about me. I was no better than Bitsy or my dad. Or Aster.

  “Do you mind?” Seth grumbled, flashing me the evil eye from underneath his hood. “Mom’s cheeriness this morning was bad enough. I don’t need you banging around too.”

  “Shit. Sorry.” I hadn’t realized I’d been slamming things—the cupboards, the mug on the counter, the coffee pot. I dragged out the chair next to him and plopped down into it.

  I thought about talking to him about my Lucas situation. Seth was my older brother after all, and this seemed like the perfect time for a little brotherly advice. But then he flipped off the top of the aspirin bottle in front of him and started chugging them down. He didn’t count them out like a normal person wo
uld have, or even swallow them with water. Instead he chewed the mouthful of chalky white pills.

  Breakfast of champions.

  I winced. “You sure you don’t want something to drink?”

  He didn’t answer. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to hit him up for advice.

  Drew came in then, his hand stuffed down the front of his boxers as he scratched himself. “’Sup, Sis?” He looked at Seth and said, “You look like hell.” He rummaged through the cupboard, sorting through the mugs with the hand he’d just had all over his crotch.

  I winced again. “God. Could you maybe wash your hands before your touch every dish? It’s a wonder we don’t all have herpes.”

  He paused in his search. “Shit, Em. Who the fuck died and made you Queen of Bitch Town? Don’t take it out on me just because your little man toy couldn’t take care of your lady boner.”

  I glared at my brother. “Why is everything about sex with you guys? And how many times do I have to tell you, he’s not my man toy?” I slammed my mug on the table, and Seth scowled at me. But I ignored him. “Why can’t you Neanderthals get it through your thick skulls? He’s not my anything.”

  Drew reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, while he and Seth exchanged contrite glances. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

  Then they both burst out laughing, as if my outburst was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

  “Relax. Jesus, I was just fucking with you,” Drew said, finally settling on a mug and filling it to the brim.

  “Must’ve hit a nerve.” Seth gave a nod to my dad, who was just coming into the kitchen through the patio doors.

  “Morning, Missy.” My dad called me by the nickname that only he’d ever called me. He was cheerful, as if that whole awkward scene in The Shrine had never even occurred the night before. “Sleep well?”

  I stared sulkily into the hostile well of my black coffee. “Fine.”

  He let out a low whistle. “Well, that young fella o’ yours sure was up early.” My head snapped up, and I met my dad’s intense blue eyes, which were focused on me. “Said he was awful sorry he had to rush off in such a hurry. Some kinda family emergency.”

  “Well, hoo-wee,” Seth drawled. “No wonder your panties are in such a bunch. Someone got herself ditched.”

  “It’s not like that,” I said, still trying to defend whatever Lucas and I were, or weren’t. But it came out sounding as if I had a mouthful of sand, and I knew my brothers had heard it.

  My dad must’ve heard it too. “Now, boys, leave your sister alone.”

  My jaw clenched, he was the last person I wanted defending me, especially not against Seth and Drew. “I don’t need your help.”

  He gave me the same look he’d been giving me ever since I was a kid and had done something that tickled him. It was the that’s my girl look, and for some reason that irritated me even more than Seth and Drew had. “You got that right, Missy. You never did need anyone’s help.” He refilled his mug and went back out to the patio, rejoining my mom and Bitsy. I glared daggers into his back the entire time.

  It was Seth who spoke up on my dad’s behalf right before I stormed out of the kitchen. “Give him a break,” he told me. “Some things aren’t what they seem.”

  But I was well past interest in any brotherly advice, especially this kind. Because Seth was wrong.

  Some things were exactly what they seemed.

  EMERSON

  It was dark by the time the cab pulled up to my place, well past ten. Seeing the lights on over at Lucas’s house made my double-crossing heart pick up speed. I didn’t care what Lucas was doing over there; it was none of my damn business. He was none of my damn business. Not to mention, those lights could belong to his roommate. Zane had been keeping crazy hours ever since he’d taken a job as a bartender over at The Dunes.

  But . . . it could also be Lucas.

  Other than the texts he’d sent that morning, I hadn’t heard a word from him all day. Radio silence. Each second that passed should’ve strengthened my resolve that whatever had gone on between us last night was just an illusion. A temporary lapse in judgment. So if that was the case, why hadn’t I been able to stop myself from wondering if he would be there to meet my flight when I landed? If he would try to explain what had been so important that he couldn’t even wait for me to wake up this morning?

  Aster needed me.

  But he hadn’t been there, at least not at the airport.

  And as I stood here now, watching the cab pull away, it didn’t seem like he was going to come out here now either.

  Disappointment hit me like a meteor falling from the sky. I was dead on impact. A pile of ash.

  What had I expected? For those few short hours away from me to change everything for him? That he would have a complete change of heart? Wasn’t that exactly what I’d been warning myself against?

  Pull yourself together! You’re better than this.

  I gripped the handle on my suitcase and started lugging it down the cracked sidewalk when Lucas’s front door opened. My first instinct was to duck or run. Or to duck and run. Instead, I froze.

  What would I say if he stepped outside? What should I do?

  Did I look okay? God, I was such a girl!

  But it wasn’t Lucas who came out. And it wasn’t Zane either.

  It was the person of the hour herself, the girl who’d wrecked everything. Who’d wrecked me. Aster.

  Any other time, I might’ve blown off her presence as no big deal. She and Lucas were still working on the gala, after all. And Lucas had made it clear that she’d called him back home because of some big emergency . . . some “gala emergency.”

  Except, I couldn’t just overlook her appearance for two major reasons.

  One, apparently Aster had her very own key to Lucas’s place. A key she used to lock the front door on her way out. I didn’t have my own key.

  And two, she was a mess. And Aster, as far as I could tell, was never a mess. After locking the front door behind her, she began smoothing the silk, and fastening the buttons of her very rumpled blouse.

  When she turned and caught me standing there, I suddenly wished I had the power of invisibility. I wished I was a chameleon who could blend into my surroundings so that no one—Aster especially—would know I’d just caught her coming out of Lucas’s place.

  But Aster didn’t have the same reaction. Aster’s expression was caught somewhere between elation and ha-ha, fuck you.

  She was the cat who’d just swallowed the proverbial canary.

  Was this the big emergency that had called Lucas home? Had the two of them just spent the day between the bed sheets rather than going over spreadsheets?

  Aster ran a hand over her hair. “Sorry you had to see this?” she said, looking like she’d just creamed her own panties.

  Where was that damn meteor when I really needed it? Something to save me from this utter humiliation. “No, you’re not.” I stared at the house she’d just come out of. Was Lucas in there, watching us?

  As if in answer to my question, the lights inside the house switched off and Aster bit her lip as she brushed past me, using the clicker in her hand to unlock the shiny gold Jag parked on the street. “No. I’m not,” she said.

  LUCAS

  Aster looked like she’d been mugged by a hobo when she finally met up with us at the restaurant where we were holding our impromptu meeting. Of course, no way would I say that to her face. But her shirt was untucked and her normally tidy hair looked like she had a family of raccoons holing up in it.

  She was already waving down the waitress as she handed me back the key to my place. “I spent the entire weekend going over the contracts,” she said, sliding the paperwork in front of me. “I even had an attorney friend look over it all. As far as I can tell, it was within her rights to cancel. The card was in her name. At this point, we’ve lost several deposits. Our only option is to start from scratch.”

  It had been a long day for all of us. It was a Sunday,
so a lot of the places were closed, but that hadn’t stopped us. We’d been making phone calls and driving from vendor to vendor, the ones who were open or who’d given us emergency contact numbers, to confirm who was still with us and who wasn’t. Against my better judgment, we’d even enlisted my cousin Raphael to help us out.

  At last count, we’d lost the venue, the caterer, the florist, and even the pyrotechnics guy who’d planned a kickass fireworks display. Thankfully, despite my mother’s threats to “end his career,” she hadn’t managed to chase away our DJ.

  Raph gave a distasteful sniff of the air where Aster had just settled down. “What’s up with you?” he asked. “You smell . . .”

  She shot him a warning scowl, letting him know he was on thin ice. “I smell what?”

  Taking the hint, he gave her his best Don Juan grin. “Incredible, as always. Of course.”

  Aster huffed. But even she wasn’t immune when Raph turned up the charm, and she couldn’t help but give him a grudging smile.

  I ignored them. I wasn’t in the mood for their flirtation tonight, if that’s what it even was. Raph was the kind of guy who bragged about his conquests the way boys in the locker room bragged about the size of their dicks. If we hadn’t gone to the same private schools—and changed in the same locker rooms—I’d be convinced he was overcompensating.

  “I don’t want to say I told you so,” Aster lectured in her prim, tight-lipped way. “But . . . I tried to tell you this was a bad time to leave.”

  I hated that know-it-all tone of hers. “You also said you could handle things,” I reminded, glaring at the stack of contracts in front of me, and then turning to Raph. “The solution seems simple enough. Just explain our situation to the manager of the country club and slip her some cash. They can refund the bride. Let her find another venue.”

  “Trust me, I tried.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I pulled out all the stops.”