Meet Me in Barefoot Bay

by Roxanne St Claire

  She had control. Complete, utter, blissful control. And she took it, sucking gently at first, then using her hand to fondle and stroke him.

  His knees buckled and he swore and begged and plunged in and out of her mouth, over and over again, slow then fast, deep then shallow, long strokes then quick ones. Her hands moved, her tongue licked, and her mouth took him all the way until he lost all the control she held so tightly. With a low, long, helpless growl of release, he spurted into her mouth, grasping her head with two hands and almost crying with each squeeze of pure relief.

  Her head thrummed with the thrill of it. The sheer blissful wonder of making Will come with just her hands and mouth. Finally, she released his shaft and looked up at him.

  His face was still wet from the—

  No, that wasn’t rain. Very slowly she stood, not at all sure her legs could do their job.

  “Will?”

  He just closed his eyes and shook his head, unable to speak.

  “Oh, Will.” She put her hands on his face. “Don’t.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jocelyn.” He barely whispered the words. “For not being there when you needed me.”

  Suddenly she was cold. In this tiny, airless room that was probably ninety degrees and a hundred percent humidity, she was cold. The chill came from inside, from her chest—from her heart. Icy, empty coldness. “Will, if you can’t forget what you saw in those pictures, then I can’t be with you.”

  He nodded, as if he understood. “I will.” He pulled her into a hug, holding her close, his body still quivering from his orgasm. “I promise I will.”

  But could he?

  When she shivered, Will bent down and grabbed her blouse, shaking it out and handing it to her. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, but it was wet and made her even colder.

  “The storm’s moving away. Let’s go home, babe,” he whispered. “I want you in bed with me tonight.”

  Now. She had to explain. Had to tell him the truth.

  “You know that moment when… you realize that…” She fought for a breath and the right words. “You want something you can never have?”

  “Yeah.” He puffed out a soft laugh. “I know that moment.”

  “Well, that’s why I froze.”

  “What do you want that you can never have?”

  Love. Trust. Sex. A complete and total loss of control. “Um, Will, there are things about me you don’t know. Things you might not believe even if I told you.”

  “Oh.” It was no more than a soft moan. “Honey.” Like he’d lost a battle, he reached for her, pulling her into him, pressing them together, squeezing so hard she almost couldn’t breathe. “I don’t care about your past. I don’t even care if… if…”

  She stilled, waiting for him to finish. “If what?” she prompted when he didn’t.

  “Whatever happened in California, I don’t care.”

  It was more like what didn’t happen, but if he wanted to go there, it was easier for her.

  “Well, I’m not ready to… spend the night with you,” she admitted.

  With a soft sigh, he buttoned her blouse, all the way to the very top. “I can wait. I’m pretty good at that, as you know.” Holding her hand, he led her back out into the soft evening rain.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Guy looked around at the strangers in his living room, all piled in there after the rainstorm started.

  Who were these people? A thread of fear wrapped around his chest as he glanced from one to another, trying—and failing—to put names with the faces. There was the lady with wavy copper hair holding hands with the young man who made her laugh a lot.

  A teenager who never shut the heck up and couldn’t say a sentence without the word “like” in it, but she’d been very kind to him when they’d played cards and he kept forgetting how many you had to put down for all the royal cards and aces.

  Then there was Blondie, who blew in and out of the room like a breath of fresh air, kind of pretending she owned the place, the way she doled out drinks and jokes.

  But where was William?

  Good Lord in heaven, that’s who was missing. He hadn’t lost William again, had he? Not his son. Not like the other time.

  An old dull ache he’d long ago learned to ignore pressed on his heart, like a mallet on the inside, throbbing and reminding him of things he wanted to forget.

  His son.

  “Where’s William?” he called out, silencing the soft buzz of conversation as everyone turned to him at once. He felt a flush of shame for yelling and adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “I haven’t seen him,” he added sheepishly.

  A woman he’d barely talked to came out of the kitchen. “Jocelyn went to find him, and then it started raining. I assume they ran into a restaurant or something.”

  “You assume?” Guy didn’t mean to boom the question or make the teenager across from him flinch in surprise. “What if something happened to him?”

  Where the heck would that leave Guy? William was everything.

  “I’m sure they’re fine,” the woman said, tucking dishwater-brown hair behind her ear and giving him a quick smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

  She was lying.

  “How can you be sure?” He pushed up from the recliner so fast he wobbled the table next to him and the lamp on top of it started to fall.

  Blondie dove in and grabbed the tumbling shade just in time. “Easy there, big guy. He’ll be home. I’ll text Jocelyn now and find out where they are.”

  “Who the hell is Jocelyn?” He didn’t care that he was yelling. These were a bunch of damn strangers. Strangers scared him. “And who the hell are all of you? I never saw any of you on that show!” He threw the remote on the floor so hard the batteries popped out and skittered everywhere.

  And that very moment, William walked in the front door. Missy, looking like a drowned rat, was right beside him, eyes wide, hand over her mouth.

  “What going on?” William demanded, marching toward Guy, his eyes fierce and furious.

  That just made Guy madder, damn it. “You tell me, son! You disappear and leave me with a house full of strangers.”

  “Guy.” The blonde stepped closer and he waved her off, his hand flying too close, making her duck.

  “Stop it!” William lunged at him, way past furious now. His tone turned Guy’s innards into water and his legs into Jell-O.

  “What the hell are you going to do, Guy? Hit her?”

  Guy cringed and cowered back, stunned by this William he didn’t even know.

  “It’s okay,” Blondie said, coming closer. “It was—”

  “No!” William shouted. “It’s not okay. It’s not okay to take a swing at a woman or at anyone, for that matter, Guy. Do you know that? Do you know that?”

  “Will.” Missy slipped into the room, curling her arm around Will’s, her jaw quivering. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t?” He spun on her. “I didn’t last time, Joss, and look how great that turned out for us.”

  What was he talking about? Tears welled in Guy’s eyes and he tried to wipe them, but that just sent his glasses tumbling to the floor. Missy immediately bent to pick them up for him.

  “Here.” She straightened the arms and gave them back, and then she turned to William. “This isn’t the time or place for this conversation. And it’s too late, anyway.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Guy demanded, his mix of anger and sadness and fear all balling up in his belly. “William, you left me with all these people, and I… I was scared.” He looked at the blonde, her name suddenly popping into his head like a gift from the memory gods. “Zoe was very nice and taught me how to play cards and… and…” He waved toward the couple with the teenager. “And they were nice, too, but… William.”

  Shoot, he was crying and there was no way in heaven or hell he could stop. “You left me and I thought… I thought…” He blubbered and Missy grabbed a tissue from a box on the table. Taking it, he blew his nose, r
ealizing that the entire room was dead silent.

  They were all looking at him. The strangers, expectantly. The girl from Clean House, pitifully. And William. How had it happened that William would look at him with such hatred? “Are you mad at me, William?” He could barely say the words.

  William just swallowed and took one of those long breaths that he always took when Guy had left the stove on or misplaced his needlework or come out of his room hollering that there was a stranger in the mirror.

  There was always a stranger in the mirror, and, right this minute, he couldn’t stand that anymore.

  “Don’t hate me, William!” he cried. “That would be like losing a child all over again. I… can’t.”

  Missy’s eyes widened, but William stepped closer. “Stop crying, Guy,” he said, but not in his normal voice. Not the kind voice that always made Guy feel like he really could stop crying.

  “I can’t stop crying,” he said.

  “Yes, you can.” Missy came next to him. Closer, in fact, than she’d ever come on her own since he’d met her. She was a cool one, always keeping an invisible fence around her, scrunching up her face when he tried to touch her, giving him icy looks like she knew something he didn’t. But right now she wasn’t so chilly. She was as kind as William used to be. “Just sit down, Guy.”

  But he didn’t move. Instead he stared at William, who stared right back. What was going on in that young man’s head?

  “Son, I don’t want to lose you again.”

  William’s eyes closed, but he didn’t answer.

  “Because when you came back to me after all those years…” Damn, Guy’s voice cracked and they were all staring at him. Even the teenager. He hated to be on display like this, but if this was what it took for William to know the truth, then he’d do it. “I thought I’d lost you forever and ever. They told me you were gone.”

  Confusion pulled at William’s brow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You do, though, William,” Guy insisted. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “Actually, I don’t.” He stooped over and picked up the clicker and batteries, avoiding Guy’s eyes as he put the thing back together again. “But just calm down—”

  “I don’t want to calm down!” Guy yelled.

  Missy jumped back with a soft gasp.

  “Sorry,” he said quickly, reaching for her, but she stepped away from him, holding up a hand.

  “Don’t.” William was between them in a second, as if he were guarding her or something.

  “I’m not… going to…” One of his loose threads tugged at his brain. An old, frayed bit he rarely thought about, but he could just imagine what was happening in his head as that thread curled into one of the many holes in his brain and tried to tie something together.

  William… and this girl.

  William… and… someone.

  But no matter how hard he tugged, he couldn’t pull the memory. “Please don’t be mad at me,” he said instead, to both of them. “And, William, understand how scared I get when you’re gone. I lost you once, I really thought I’d never ever see you again, and all I had was my daugh—” The thread plucked and, suddenly, he could remember.

  Both of them stared at him, jaws open. Oh dear, what had he done now?

  “Your what?” Missy asked.

  He closed his eyes. “I had a daughter.”

  Nobody in the room said a word; not a single person so much as breathed.

  “But she died when she was really, really young.” Guy reached toward William. “That’s why you’re everything to me, son. Everything.”

  “’Kay, Guy. Let’s call it a night then, buddy.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Guy felt the waterworks, but he didn’t care as he reached out to hug Will. “I love you, son. I love you so much.”

  Will didn’t hug him back, but that was okay. He was here. His son was here.

  Jocelyn managed to snag a ride back to Barefoot Bay with Lacey and Clay, even if Will wasn’t happy about that. He walked her to the car and promised to talk to her tomorrow, but she’d had enough revelations, enough emotion, enough Guy, enough close calls, enough of everything.

  Solitude screamed for her.

  She rode in the back cab of Clay’s truck with Ashley, who, while texting, sent wayward glances at Jocelyn.

  “Yes, Ash, the thing with my father is a tough situation,” Jocelyn finally said. “You can ask me about it, honey.”

  Lacey looked over her shoulder to give Jocelyn a grateful smile.

  “I was really wondering why you came home all wet.”

  “We got caught in the rain.”

  She leaned close and whispered, “Aunt Zoe said you totally don’t have your bra on.”

  Jocelyn’s jaw dropped but, damn it, Clay heard and laughed.

  “Listen to your iPod until we get home,” Lacey said sternly, fighting a smile. “But if you want to talk about your dad, Joss, I’ll come up to your villa and Clay can take Ashley home.”

  “Thanks,” Jocelyn said. Solitude might be calling, but she really needed to talk to Lacey, too. For a minute. “I’d like that.”

  Ashley gave her another sideways look and Jocelyn gave her thigh a friendly punch.

  “Hey, what’s that for?” Ashley asked.

  “For Zoe. Give it to her next time you see her.”

  When Jocelyn and Lacey stepped into the dimly lit villa, Lacey was the one to drop onto the sofa with a huge sigh. “Well, you missed all the drama.”

  “I got enough, thank you very much.” She turned on the softest light in the living area and looked down at her shirt. “Why does Zoe have to notice everything?”

  “Where is it?” Lacey asked, curling a long stawberry-blonde strand and giving a sheepish, teasing smile.

  “Somewhere in right field.”

  “At Mimosa High?” She practically choked.

  “Don’t be scandalized. I’m sure it’s not the first bra to be left at that field. Hell, there’s probably an entire Victoria’s Secret catalog buried under the bleachers.” Jocelyn headed to the back. “I’m going to change. Help yourself to some water or… milk.”

  After she changed into sleep pants and a tank top, brushed the rain out of her hair, and clipped it up, Jocelyn returned to the living room to find Lacey flat out on the couch, sound asleep.

  “Whoa, mama. Somebody’s tired.”

  Lacey blinked, sighed, and rolled over, grabbing a pillow with a soft moan. “Oh, I’m so glad I went for the expensive fabric on these pillows.”

  “So your drool won’t stain?”

  She smiled, eyes closed. “This babymaking job is tiring.”

  “’Specially when you’re building a resort in your spare time, raising a teenager, and attending family drama performances.”

  She opened her eyes. “He’s really messed up, isn’t he?”

  “Confused, I believe, is the proper term.” Jocelyn opened a water bottle. “I kinda wish this were wine.”

  “There’s some in there,” Lacey said. “I stocked your fridge.”

  “No wonder you’re exhausted.”

  “So…” Lacey dragged herself up. “You want to tell me what happened with Will or would you like to hear how Tessa took the news?”

  Jocelyn slammed the bottle on the table hard enough to spill a little water. “You told her?”

  “We told everyone. Well, we told Ashley at home first. Then we told the gang tonight.”

  Guilt squeezed. “Damn, what was I doing? I should have been there for Tessa.”

  “Zoe was there. You were leaving underwear on the baseball field. Did you do it?”

  “No.” She rolled her eyes. “Nothing is sacred, is it?”

  “Is it?” Lacey sat up a little higher. “Is sex with Will Palmer sacred?”

  What a damn good question. “It’s not… meaningless, let’s put it that way.” The need to share her fears rose up a little, but she tamped it down. She shared judiciously. And so, so rar
ely. And this subject? Totally off limits. “How did Tessa take the news?”

  “She was fine. I think she already knew.”

  “Really?” Wouldn’t she have said something to Jocelyn? They’d talked so much about infertility in the past eight or ten years. “God, I hate how we’re always keeping things from each other.”

  “From the Queen Secret Keeper.”

  Jocelyn shrugged. “My secrets are out,” she said. “My dad’s mean and badly…”

  “Confused.”

  “Yes. And I came home from a walk with my old next-door neighbor missing some clothes. I have no secrets left.” Just one.

  “Coco Kirkman.”

  Okay, two. “No word from those reporters?” she asked.

  “Clay talked to Slade Garrison and he said some are sniffing around asking questions. Don’t take this personally, but most of the people on this island barely remember you. Of course Slade knows who your dad is, since he was the former sheriff, but he retired so early, even before your mom died. But since then, Guy’s been off the radar, and really, those reporters are getting nowhere. Charity is your only real danger.”

  Charity was no danger. “I need to go see her tomorrow.”

  “You’re safe up here,” Lacey said.

  “I know.” A rush of affection rolled through her, making Jocelyn reach over and give Lacey’s ankles a squeeze. “Thank you for this sanctuary. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  Lacey smiled. “You can pay me back.”

  “Anything. Name it.”

  “Take the job.”

  Jocelyn laughed softly. “I walked right into that one.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Lacey… I don’t know.”

  Lacey sat up completely, awake and alert. And, oh God, on a mission. “You could be close to Will.”

  “What makes you think that’s a plus?”

  “The bra in the outfield.”

  She’d never live that down. “A little trip around the bases does not a relationship make.”

  Lacey looked skyward. “You are so into him, why are you lying to yourself? And he’s like… wow. He adores you. It’s all over his face. He couldn’t even string a noun and a verb together to make a sentence in the sub meeting yesterday.”