High Tide

by Michelle Mankin

  “I never should have left you alone in that house with him.” Now she sounded as defeated as I felt.

  “You had a life to live, and a business to start separate from him.” That was exactly what I was attempting to do.

  “But I should have taken you with me.”

  “You were barely able to make ends meet when you started out. You didn’t need the added burden of being a guardian to a minor.”

  “You’re not a burden, Hollie.”

  “I feel like one sometimes. I did in OB while you were going out and risking your life to get us food, while I did nothing but hide in the sub-pump structure.”

  “We had reason to believe he might do you and me physical harm.”

  “He didn’t kill her. It was an accident, what happened on the boat.”

  “We know that now, thanks to your lawyer. But Samuel is still responsible for making her life a living hell, and screwing us both up in the process.”

  “He didn’t screw you up, Fanny.”

  “Not permanently, maybe, thanks to Ash. Love makes a difference, like Mom always said. It can help you find your way and see things clearer.”

  “It made a difference for you and Ash because he’s a great guy and you’re you.”

  “This sounds a lot like a conversation we had before.”

  “In Ash’s bedroom. When we were packing up to come here,” I said. “I remember.”

  “You’re stronger than you realize.”

  Her side of the line went quiet for a moment. I could almost imagine I could hear the waves in Ocean Beach crashing in the background.

  “But me telling you won’t help you believe it. That’s something you’re going to have to prove to yourself.”

  “Knowing you believe in me means the world to me. Having your love makes a difference in my life, Fanny. I’ve doubted a lot of things, but I’ve never for a single moment doubted I had your affection.”

  “Ditto, Hols. But speaking of doubt, why the uncertainty with Cash?”

  I snorted. “How much time do you have?”

  “As much time as you need.”

  “My mind’s pretty cluttered where he’s concerned.”

  “Ash is downstairs in the studio with the band. He’ll be down there for hours, tinkering on the album. I actually thought about driving up there in the Wagon to see you, but I was afraid I’d spend most of that time stuck in traffic instead of with you.”

  “Definitely easier to talk on the phone.”

  “I don’t know about easier. It’s hard being away from you. I miss you. All those weeks with you in Ocean Beach, I got used to having you around. Used to talked to you face-to-face. Hugging you whenever I wanted.”

  “I miss you too.” My throat tightened, my eyes stinging with emotion.

  “So, Cash? He likes you. But how do you feel about him?”

  “He’s older.” Nearly seven years older. But I liked that. After everything I’d been through, I felt older. Guys my own age seemed immature. “He works for me.”

  “Reasons not to get involved, Hols. It’s a complicated situation. There are definite issues you have to resolve. I know you remember the difficulties between me and Ash. Difficult doesn’t mean it’s not right for the two of you to be together. It just means it won’t be easy. So, do you like Cash or not?”

  “I like him. He’s protective, and careful with me.” After what Samuel had done, a guy who wasn’t forceful physically was a high priority for me. “And when he lets down his guard, he says really nice things that make me feel . . .”

  “Like you’re better than you think you are.”

  “Yeah. Exactly.”

  “I’m really glad to hear that. Solidifies my impression of him. For what it’s worth, I like him. Liked him right off the bat, really. Ash thinks pretty highly of him too.”

  “You’ve been talking about me?”

  “You’re my sister. I worry about you. I confide my concerns to the man I love. But I don’t worry about Cash.”

  “I’m worried about him.”

  “You’re afraid you’ll get hurt.”

  It already hurt. “Yeah.”

  “It’s up to you then, to be brave and strong. I’m not going to tell you what to do. But maybe I can give you a little sisterly nudge.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Your birthday’s coming up.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me. My turning eighteen and legal got me in this mess.”

  “I don’t think of the fact that you’re turning eighteen as a mess. I think of it as a momentous occasion to celebrate.”

  “I’m stuck in this hotel room until my manager deems it advantageous for me to make an outside scheduled appearance.”

  “I’ve already cleared it with her.”

  “Cleared what?”

  “A party. Here in OB. With me and Ash. The band. And all the friends you made while you were here in OB.”

  “Really?”

  “You bet.”

  “Can Ernie come?”

  “Already invited and accepted. He’s helping with the decorations. And you should think about inviting Cash.”

  “He’s my bodyguard, Fanny. He has to come.”

  “We’ve booked the Deck Bar for a private party. They have their own security. And with all of us there, you’ll have plenty of protection. Invite Cash to come with you, not as a bodyguard but as a friend.”

  I took my shower, wrapped myself up in a white hotel robe, and wiped the fog of condensation from the mirror. The terrycloth wrapped around my body was way too big on me. The hem brushed my ankles. Wearing it, I felt like a child playing dress-up and not like a teenager on the verge of being an adult.

  Leaning forward, my hands on the granite counter, I peered closer at the freshly scrubbed face staring back at me from the mirror.

  The shape wasn’t too bad. More proportional and not as rounded as it had been when I was younger. My cheekbones had promising height. The sprinkling of light freckles provided interest. My lips were full and a pleasing blush color. My jaw was prominently defined.

  Photographers often commented how much they liked my profile. My brows were auburn, several shades darker than my strawberry-blond hair. They were beautifully arched, the only feature so far that had been cosmetically enhanced. The darker color and sweeping arch drew attention to my eyes. Wide and gray with a slight upward flare at the outer edges, they were my favorite feature. I focused on them when practicing different emotions that I then used on camera. The vanity light made the matte surface of them sparkle right now, or maybe that was a combination of fear and excitement.

  For surely, I’d been contemplating Fanny’s suggestion as I showered. Certainly, just the mere thought of inviting Cash to my party made my heart race. Truly, a tiny crease of trepidation formed between my eyes.

  Was I brave enough to do it? To put myself out there? That downed-power-line feeling in my chest returned. Was chemistry enough of a reason to undertake the risk of being shot down again?

  A knock sounded on the door, and I turned away from the mirror. My hand rising to pull the lapels of my robe together, I slowly swiveled toward his voice.

  “Miss Wood,” Cash said. “Dinner’s here.”

  I tiptoed closer to the bedroom door, extremely conscious of my nakedness beneath the robe. “I didn’t order room service.”

  My gaze dipped to the door pull. Had I bolted the lock on it? How close was he standing to it? Would he try to slide it open without permission? He’d done it before for Carter Besille.

  “I ordered dinner. For both of us. I chose some things I thought we both would like, and used my credit card. I hope that’s okay?”

  “Sure. Only I’m not dressed, and I’m not that hungry. Maybe you could just put mine in the fridge for later.”

  I held my breath, staring at the closed door between us as a pause stretched out.

  “I’m sorry, Hollie,” he said softly. “If you come out, I’ll try to do better. You need to eat, and
I hoped we might eat together. Maybe talk things through a little.”

  That was an opening. My cue. Penciled in the script margin, a pivotal plot point.

  Heroine firms her spine. Digs deep for her determination. Makes her move.

  “Okay.” I reached for the door pull. The bronzed metal was cool in my grip. I slid the door open to find Cash directly on the other side of it. Not in uniform. Not even wearing shoes. His blond hair tousled as if he’d run his hands repeatedly through it while I showered. His expression was sheepish, those ocean-colored eyes fixed on me and turbulent.

  Apologetic Casual Cash took my breath away.

  “This okay? Me not in uniform?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “If you’re okay with me like I am. I mean, you’re practically in formal wear comparatively.”

  “I’ve notice you’ve got a big vocabulary. But the robe’s a little large for you.” He raked his gaze slowly over me.

  I shrugged. “Impressive verbal skills courtesy of a Beverly Hills private school education.”

  There was more to it involving my mom, but this wasn’t two individuals baring their souls to each other. It was me cracking open the door to a possibility. A possibility who was checking me out, so I did a little investigative trekking of my own.

  His masculine feet were large. The hems of his jeans were ragged. The faded denim clung to his muscular calves, thighs, hips . . . My gaze didn’t linger there, though I certainly noted, as I’d noted before, the impressive thickness and length of him.

  My lips parting, I swiped my tongue across them and dragged my gaze higher. He wore his tee untucked, the maroon cotton faded like his jeans. The 2 Rows Back band logo in the center of it was barely legible anymore.

  Were they his favorite band?

  Short-sleeved, the tee stretched to contain his wide shoulders. Every defined inch of his chest was delineated, and above that, his thick neck was taut. The tendons on each side seemed strained.

  Was he nervous like I was?

  “Are you wearing clothes under the robe?” he asked, his voice thick like syrup.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I just stepped out of the shower.”

  “Damn.” His Adam’s apple bobbing, he swallowed and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck as if his skin suddenly blazed hot.

  “I can put on my pajamas, if that makes you more comfortable.”

  “The tiny set you had on this morning?”

  “They’re the only ones I have.”

  “No, thanks. The robe provides better coverage. But you might wanna go ahead and sit so you don’t trip.”

  “Sit where?” I glanced at the couch and gulped. He had already unfolded it into his bed.

  “I had them set the table up.”

  Cash gestured, and I followed the length of his arm.

  “Wow.” My eyes widened.

  White linen cloth. Two flickering candles, a single red rosebud in a slim vase between them. Two place settings—a burger and fries, and grilled chicken with veggies. Fruit. The sparkling water I liked.

  “That’s a ton of food.” The round table that sat four beside the kitchenette was crowded with plates. “And it’s not the usual room service.”

  “No, it’s not.” Cash trailed his gaze over me again. Beneath the robe, my skin sizzled. “You’re not a usual type girl.”

  His sculpted lips curved. They were a cinnamon color. My stomach grumbled and fluttered as I imagined tasting his spicy lips.

  “Might be best to get you started on some food before we talk.” He made a hook of his arm, and I stared up into his eyes for a moment.

  Seeing nothing but warmth and sincerity in the blue depths, I slipped my hand onto his forearm. He squeezed my fingers, and before I could fully register the way that simple touch made my heart swell, he’d escorted me to the table as though we were at some lavish affair and not just eating dinner inside our room.

  Our room.

  Double gulp, Hollie.

  At the table, he pulled out a chair. After I sat, he pushed my chair in a little, then moved to take the one across from it.

  “Being gentlemanly seems to come naturally to you.”

  “My grandmother’s influence.” His gaze was piercingly direct. “She raised me after my parents died.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I lost my mother. And I never even knew my father.”

  My eyes filling, I touched his hand. Before I could remove it, he covered it with his.

  That feeling I’d gotten earlier when he held me in his arms? I got it again. Only now it was exponentially stronger.

  “I know you understand. Knew you would react just like this.” He dipped his gaze to our joined hands. When his eyes met mine again, his blazed with intensity. “I know nearly everything there is to know about you. Watching, listening, reading your bio before I even took the job. Then being here with you here 24/7 filled in a lot of gaps. But even with all I know, even with all the time we’ve spent together, it’s not nearly enough. I want to know everything about you.”

  “Cash—”

  “Let me finish, please.”

  “All right.”

  “Thank you. It’s not enough because it’s not the right kind of time.”

  “Time more like this, you mean?”

  “Yes, you with your hair down. No makeup. No entourage. The woman, not the movie star.”

  “You with your guard down,” I whispered.

  “Unwisely, but yes. I’ve tried to fight the feelings I have for you. But today . . .” He let out a breath. “Today was a tipping point. Literally.” His lips curved. “You’re not the child I tried to convince myself you were. In that dress, it was obvious. Holding you, it was undeniable.”

  He reached for and took both of my hands, drawing me closer. “I want so much with you. But . . .” His gaze dropped, his fingers tightening on mine.

  “But my age is an issue, and you’re my employee,” I said, reiterating points we’d already covered. It seemed to me it was time to summarize.

  “Yes, there’s those things.” His gaze lifted, the earlier clarity within his eyes dimmed. “I know in my head I should keep our relationship strictly professional, but I can’t seem to manage it.”

  He leaned closer. His warmth and his seductive scent tempted me to narrow the gap between us.

  I seriously considered crawling onto his lap, throwing my arms around his thick neck, and kissing him. But I’d learned too many lessons the hard way to throw caution away. Plus, I well-remembered the previous pullbacks by him.

  “Do you want to manage it?” I arched my signature brow, pretending I was calm and collected and that this was familiar territory for me, when it certainly was not.

  “Do you?” he asked, his expression shuttered.

  “No, I don’t,” I said, being honest. Taking a chance. My stomach was so tense, it didn’t even flutter like before. “I’ll be eighteen in a week.”

  “I’m very conscious of the number of days until you reach that milestone.” He lifted his arm, hesitating only briefly before touching me. “Nearly as aware of a date on a calendar as I’ve been aware of you.”

  He softly ran the back of his hand across my cheek. I leaned into the caress like a kitten having its fur scratched. It seemed once his skin connected with mine, I couldn’t remember any reasons for caution.

  “So until then, no more pullbacks and barriers. We open the door to a possibility of there being something between us?” I asked, needing the clarification.

  “Yes, sugar. Emotional barriers open. But chaste touching only. I’m a man running extremely low on willpower where you’re concerned. Until you’re legal, we take this possibility between us slow, at a snail’s pace.”

  “Slow sounds good.” Blinking at him, I agreed. After all, he was older and more experienced than me.

  “So eat, shug.” He dipped his chin. “Which will it be, burger or chicken?”

  “Chicken, of course.” I made a face as he
slipped his hand from mine and slid the plate toward me.

  “Not of course.” He lifted his brows and I froze, my napkin in my lap already and my utensils poised over my plate. “You worked out for two hours. Surely you can eat whatever you want.”

  I shook my head, then proceeded to cut the grilled chicken breast and gestured to his plate with a small bite of meat on the tines of my fork. “Go ahead and eat. Don’t tempt me. I’m trying to be good.”

  I brought the bite to my mouth, closed my eyes as I chewed, and let out an exaggerated moan.

  “Mmm. Delicious.” When I opened my eyes, he was staring at me. “What is it?”

  I set down my fork and picked up my napkin. “Do I have something on my face?” I dabbed quickly at my mouth.

  “You’re the one who’s tempting.” His blue eyes bright, he shook his head. “Slow’s going to kill me. It’s going to be next to impossible to be good.”

  My lips curled. “I didn’t really mean anything . . .”

  “You did.”

  “Maybe subconsciously.”

  “Heaven help me if you put conscious effort into it.”

  My grin widened.

  “You have a beautiful smile, Hollie. It’s more potent to be on the receiving end of your happiness than anything else you could do.”

  I set down my fork, finished chewing, and swallowed. With difficulty. My throat was tight. “Don’t say things like that.”

  “Like what?” He cocked his head.

  “Like you just did.”

  “Why not, when they’re the truth?”

  “No one talks like that to me when the film’s not rolling.” I glanced away, blinking to remove the sting of emotion from my eyes.

  Suddenly, he was right there in front of me. I hadn’t even heard him move.

  Note to self: remember Cash has military training.

  He crouched in front of me, reaching to touch my hand where it rested on the arm of the chair. “If that’s the case, then the men you know are all fools.”

  Heat zinged up my arm as he stroked the pad of his thumb across my skin. And like the petals of a flower opening to the warmth of the sun, that small portion of my heart that persisted in continuing to believe in genuine love opened also.