The Summer They Never Forgot Page 11
And it had started from there. A relaxed, no-strings relationship with a sweet, kind-hearted girl that had resulted in an unplanned pregnancy.
He’d said there were to be no secrets from Sandy, but Liam’s unexpected conception was something he didn’t want to share with her. Not yet. Maybe never.
‘Jodi moved down to Melbourne with me after we got married.’
‘What...what brought you both back to Dolphin Bay?’
‘I’m not a city guy. I’d had it with Melbourne. The insane work hours, the crowds, the traffic. Mum and Dad were tired of running the guesthouse. Jodi wanted to be with family when she had the baby.’
He gritted his teeth, trying not to let himself be overwhelmed by emotion when he thought of his baby son. The son he’d loved so fiercely from the moment he’d been placed in his arms as a newborn and yet hadn’t been able to protect.
‘I could trade shares from here. Start business projects here.’
There was another pause. Sandy twisted the edge of her skirt even tighter. ‘Those ladies... They...they said Jodi’s parents wouldn’t be happy with me coming onto the scene.’
Ben clenched his hands into fists. Who were these busybody troublemakers? If he found out he’d tell them to damn well butt out of his business.
He shook his head. ‘Not true. Jodi’s mum and dad are good people. They want me to...to have someone in my life again.’
Sandy’s eyes widened. ‘You know that for sure?’
‘Yes. They’ve told me not to let the...the tragedy ruin my life. That...that it’s not what Jodi would have wanted.’
‘And you believe that? About Jodi?’
He nodded. His words were constricted in his throat. ‘The night Liam was born she told me that if anything happened to her—she was a nurse and knew there could be complications in childbirth—she didn’t want me to be on my own. She...she made me promise I would find someone else...’
‘Oh, Ben.’
Sandy laid her hand on his arm. He realised she was close to tears. When she spoke again her voice was so choked he had to strain to hear her.
‘How can I live up to such a wonderful woman?’
In a few shaky steps she made her way around the counter and stood with her back to him. She picked up a book from the display and put it back in exactly the same place.
‘Sandy, it isn’t a competition.’
Her voice was scarcely a murmur. ‘There would always be a third person in our relationship. I don’t know that I could deal with that...’
‘Sandy, didn’t you hear what I said? Jodi would want me to take this chance to spend time with you.’
She turned to face him, the counter now a barrier between them. Her eyes, shadowed again, searched his face. ‘Jodi sounds like...like an angel.’
Ben forced himself to smile through the pain. ‘She’d laugh to hear you say that. Jodi was special, and I loved her. But she was just a human being, like the rest of us, with her own strengths and weaknesses.’
‘Ben, I’m no angel either. Don’t expect me to be. I’m quick to make judgements, grumpy when I’m hungry or tired—and don’t dare to cross me at my time of the month. Oh, and there’s the toilet roll thing.’
Despite the angst of talking about Jodi, Sandy made him smile. Just as she’d done when she was eighteen. ‘You can let me deal with that.’
She pushed the hair away from her forehead in a gesture of weariness. ‘I...I don’t know that I’ve thought this through very well.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
Fear knifed him again.
He’d had five major turning points in his life. One when he’d decided to go to university. The second when he’d married Jodi. The third when Liam was born. Fourth, the fire. And the fifth when he’d looked up from that wave this morning and seen Sandy standing on the shore next to his dog, as if she were waiting for him to come home to her.
Since he’d kissed her he’d thought of nothing but Sandy. Of the impact she’d made in less than twenty-four hours on his safe, guarded, ultimately sterile life.
He hadn’t wanted her here. But her arrival in town had forced him to take stock. And what he saw was a bleak, lonely future—a half-life—if he continued to walk the solitary path he had mapped for himself. He had grieved. A part of him would always grieve. But grief that didn’t heal could twist and turn and fester into something near madness—if he let it.
He would not allow Sandy to back away from him now. She’d offered four days and he was going to take them.
She took a deep breath. ‘The you-and-me thing. What if it doesn’t work out and I...and I hurt you again? You’ve endured so much. I couldn’t bear it if I caused you more pain.’
‘Leave that to me. It’s a gamble I’ll take.’
Sandy was his best bet for change. The ongoing power of his attraction to her improved the odds. Her warmth, her vivacity, made him feel as though the seized-up machinery that was his heart was slowly grinding back to life.
She gave him hope.
Maybe that was her real magic—a magic that had nothing to do with shop-bought fairy glitter.
There were four more days until she had to leave for Melbourne. He didn’t know what he brought to the table for her in terms of a relationship. But he’d be a fool not to grab the second chance she’d offered him. No matter the cost if he lost her again.
‘Are you still worried about the townsfolk? They’re nothing to be scared of.’
She set her shoulders, tossed back her head. ‘Scared? Who said I’m scared?’ Her mouth quirked into the beginnings of a smile. ‘Maybe...maybe I am a little scared.’
Scared of him? Was that the real problem? Was she frightened he would rush her into something before she was ready?
He ached to make love to Sandy. Four days might not be enough to get to that stage. But he could wait if that was what she needed. Even though the want, the sheer physical ache to possess her, was killing him.
‘No need to be. I’m here to fight battles for you. Never forget that.’
At last her smile reached her eyes. ‘You’re sure about that?’
She looked so cute he wanted to kiss the tip of her nose.
He stepped around the counter towards her at the same time she moved towards him. He took both her hands in his and pulled her to him. This time she didn’t resist. Her face was very close. That warm vanilla scent of hers was already so familiar.
‘As sure as I am about taking that second chance we’ve been offered. Let’s give it everything we’ve got in the next four days. Turn back the clock.’
She stared at him. He couldn’t blame her for being surprised at his turnaround. The shadow behind her eyes was not completely gone. Had she told him everything that was worrying her?
‘Are you serious?’ she choked out.
‘Very.’
She reached up her hand to stroke the side of his cheek. As if checking he was real. When it came, her smile was tender and her eyes were warm. ‘I’m so happy to hear you say that. It’s just that...’ She paused
‘What?’ he asked.
‘All these expectations on us. It...it’s daunting. And what will we tell people?’
‘Nothing. Let them figure it out for themselves.’ He gripped her hands. ‘This is just about you and me. It’s always just been you and me.’
‘And we—’
‘Enough with the talking,’ he growled, and he silenced her with a kiss.
A kiss to seal their bargain. A kiss to tell her what words could not.
But the kiss rapidly escalated to something hot and hungry and urgent. She matched his urgency with lips, teeth, tongue. He let go her hands so he could pull her tight. Her curves shaped to him as though they were made to fit and she wound her arms around his neck to pull him closer. The strap of her yellow dress slid off her shoulder. He wanted to slide the dress right off her.
He broke away from the kiss, his breath hard and ragged. ‘We’re out of here. To get some privacy.�
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‘Wh...what about the shop?’ Her own ragged breathing made her barely coherent.
‘How many books have you sold today?’
‘Just...just a few.’
‘Yeah. Not many customers. Too many gossips.’ He stroked the bare warm skin on her shoulder, exalted in her shiver of response.
‘They did seem to spend more time lurking around corners and looking at me than browsing,’ she admitted.
Her hands slid through his hair with an unconscious sensuality that made him shudder with want.
‘You shut down the computer. I’ll set the alarm.’
‘But Ida...’
‘Don’t worry about Ida.’ He could easily make up to his aunt for any drop in sales figures.
Sandy started to say something. He silenced her with another kiss. She moaned a throaty little sound that made him all the more determined to get her out of here and to somewhere private, where he could kiss her without an audience.
The old-fashioned doorbell on the top of the shop door jangled loudly.
Sandy froze in his arms. Then she pulled away from him, cheeks flushed, eyes unfocused. Her quiet groan of frustration echoed his. She pressed a quick, hard kiss on his mouth and looked up wordlessly at him.
To anyone coming into the store they would look as guilty as the pair of teenagers they’d once been. He rolled his eyes. Sandy started to shake with repressed giggles.
He kept his arm firmly around her as they turned to face the two middle-aged women who had entered the shop. Both friends of his mother.
Two sets of eyebrows had risen practically to their hairlines.
News of kiss number two for the day would be rapidly telegraphed through the town.
And he didn’t give a damn.
‘Sorry, ladies,’ he said, in a voice that put paid to any argument. ‘This shop is closed.’
CHAPTER TEN
DESTINATION? SOMEWHERE THEY could have privacy. Purpose? To talk more freely about what had happened to each other in the twelve years since she’d left Dolphin Bay. And Sandy didn’t give a flying fig that the two bemused ladies Ben had ousted from Bay Books stood hands on hips and watched as she and Ben hastened away from the shop.
Even just metres down the street she fell out of step with Ben and had to skip to catch up. He turned to wait for her, suppressed laughter still dancing around his mouth, and extended his hand for her to take.
Sandy hesitated for only a second before she slid her fingers through his. Linked hands would make quite a statement to the good folk of Dolphin Bay. Anticipation and excitement throbbed through her as he tightened his warm, strong grip and pulled her closer. She smiled up at him, her breath catching in her throat at his answering smile.
When she’d very first held hands with Ben the simple act had been a big deal for her. Most of her schoolfriends had already had sex with their boyfriends by the age of eighteen. Not her. She’d never met a boy she’d wanted to do more with than kiss. When she’d met Ben she’d still been debating the significance of hands held with just palms locked or, way sexier, with fingers entwined.
And Ben?
Back then he’d had no scars.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, surprised when her voice came out edged with nervousness.
‘My place,’ he said. His voice didn’t sound nervous in the slightest.
Did he live at the hotel? That would make sense. Maybe in an apartment as luxurious as the room where she was staying.
‘Do you remember my family’s old boathouse?’ he asked as he led her down the steps in front of the hotel.
‘Of course I do,’ she said, and she felt herself colour. Thirty years old and blushing at the memory of that ramshackle old boathouse. Dear heaven, she hoped he didn’t notice.
On the sand outside the boathouse, in the shelter of Ben’s father’s beached dinghies, she and Ben had progressed from first base to not-ready-to-progress-further-than-third.
She glanced quickly up at Ben. Oh, yes, he remembered too. The expression in those deep blue eyes made that loud and clear.
She blushed a shade pinker and shivered at the memory of all that thwarted teen sexuality—and at the thought of how it might feel to finally do something about it if she and Ben got to that stage this time around.
‘I live in the boathouse,’ he said.
‘You live there?’ She didn’t know what else to say that would not come out sounding ill-mannered.
Instead, she followed Ben across the sand in silence, wondering why a successful businessman would choose to live in something that was no more than a shack.
But the structure that sat a short distance to the right of the hotel bore little resemblance to the down-at-heel structure of her memory. Like so much of Dolphin Bay, it had changed beyond recognition.
‘Wow! I’m impressed,’ she said.
Ben’s remodelled boathouse home looked like something that could star on a postcard. Supported by piers on the edge of the bay, its dock led out into the water. Timber-panelled walls were weathered to a silvery grey in perfect harmony with the corrugated iron of the peaked roof. Window trim and carriage lamps had been picked out in a deep dusky blue. Big tubs of purple hydrangeas in glazed blue pots sat either side of the door.
Ben leaned down to pluck a dead leaf from one of the plants without even seeming to realise he did it. She wouldn’t have taken him for a gardener—but then she knew so very little of what interests he might have developed in the years since they’d last been together at this rich-in-memories part of the beach.
‘The boathouse was the only part of the guesthouse to survive the fire,’ Ben said. He pushed open the glossy blue door. ‘Jesse lived here before he went away. I had it remodelled as guest accommodation, but liked it so much I kept it for myself.’
‘I can see why,’ she said. ‘I envy you.’
A large ceramic dog bowl filled with water, hand-painted with the words ‘Hobo Drinks Here’, sat just outside the door. She remembered the look of devotion in the dog’s big eyes and Ben’s obvious love for him.
‘Where’s your adorable dog?’ she asked, stepping through the door he held open for her, fully expecting the retriever to give Ben a boisterous greeting.
‘Mum dog-sits him the days I can’t take him to work with me,’ he said. ‘Seems she always has a houseful of strays. He fits right in.’
Sandy was about to say something about his mother, but the words were stopped by her second, ‘Wow!’ as Ben stepped aside and she got her first glimpse of the interior of the boathouse.
She only had a moment to take in a large open-plan space, bleached timber and shades of white, floor-to-ceiling windows facing the water at the living room end and a vast wooden bed at the other.
The thought that it would be a fabulous location for an advertising shoot barely had time to register in her mind, because the door slammed shut behind them and she was in Ben’s arms.
* * *
Ben didn’t want to give a tour of the boathouse. He didn’t want to talk about the architectural work Jesse had done on the old building. He just wanted, at last, to have Sandy to himself.
For a long, still moment he held her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her. He closed his eyes, breathed in the vanilla scent of her hair, scarcely able to believe it was real and she was here with him. He could feel the warm sigh of her breath on his neck, hear the thud-thud-thud of her heartbeat. Then he kissed her. He kissed the curve of her throat. He kissed the delicate hollow beneath her ear. He pressed small, hungry kisses along the line of her jaw. Then he kissed her on the mouth.
Without hesitation Sandy kissed him right back. She tasted of coffee and chocolate and her own familiar sweetness. As she wound her arms around his neck, met his tongue with hers, she made that sexy little murmur deep in her throat that he remembered from a long time ago. It drove him nearly crazy with want.
Secure in the privacy of the boathouse, he kissed her long enough for them to catch right up on the way t
hey’d explored kissing each other all those years ago. Until kissing no longer seemed enough.
The straps of her yellow dress gave little resistance as he slid them down her smooth shoulders. She shrugged to make it easier for him. Without the support of the straps, the top of her dress fell open. He could see the edge of her bra, the swell of her breasts, the tightness of her nipples. He kissed down her neck and across the roundness of her breasts, until she gasped and her hands curled tightly into his shoulders.
He couldn’t get enough of her.
But with an intense effort he forced himself to pull back. ‘Do you want me to stop?’
‘No,’ she said immediately. ‘Not yet. I couldn’t bear it if you stopped.’
In reply, he scooped her up into his arms. Her eyes widened with surprise and excitement. Her arms tightened around his neck and she snuggled her cheek against his shoulder.
She laughed as he marched her towards the bedroom end of the boathouse. ‘Even more muscles than when you were nineteen,’ she murmured in exaggerated admiration, her voice husky with desire.
She was still laughing as he laid her on the bed—his big, lonely bed. Her dress was rucked up around her slender tanned thighs, giving him a tantalising glimpse of red panties. She kicked off her shoes into the air, laughed again as they fell to the wooden floor with two soft thuds. Then she held out her arms to urge him to join her. Warm, vibrant Sandy, just as he remembered her. Only more womanly, more confident, more seductive.
He kicked off his own shoes and lay down next to her. He leaned over her as she lay back against the pillows, her face flushed, her eyes wide.
‘I never thought I’d see you back here.’ His voice was hoarse with need for her.
She kissed him. ‘Do you remember the sand outside this place? How scratchy it was?’ she asked. ‘How we’d sneak off there whenever we could get away from everyone.’
‘How could I forget?’ he replied. Ever since she’d walked into the hotel and back into his life he’d thought of little else.
‘This is so much more comfortable,’ she said, with on-purpose seduction in her smile. She pulled him down to her to kiss him again. ‘And private,’ she murmured against his mouth.