Beyond Now: The Hutton Family Book 3

by Brooks, Abby

  Did she really count as short-term? Did she really count as a tourist? She had a permanent spot in my heart. She had since we were kids and even thirteen years without contact hadn’t changed that. Surely she wouldn’t head back home and disappear from my life again. Right? Surely, she was more than a one-night stand…if things ever came to that.

  My arousal sprang to life, reminding me how I very much wanted it to come to that. I wanted her body. I wanted her time and her attention. I wanted her back in my life.

  We arrived at our vehicles and she paused next to hers, hands clasped in front of her, bright smile in place. “I really enjoyed watching you work, Cap’n.”

  “I really enjoyed watching you.”

  Her eyes bounced around my face, pleasure lighting her up from the inside out and I knew in that moment that I didn’t care about the rules. I didn’t care about anything but her. “Hungry? I know a great place…” I began but Maisie was already nodding her head.

  “Yep. Starving.” She hooked her arm through my elbow. “Take me to dinner or lose me forever.”

  I frowned down at her, disappointed that she massacred one of my favorite lines from Top Gun. “I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

  “Well, sure. That’s not what Meg Ryan says to Goose, but I’m not Meg Ryan, and you’re a Moose, not a goose…” She grimaced, then let out a ridiculous laugh. “I’m sorry,” she said through her giggles. “In my head, that sounded really clever. Out loud, it was just bad.”

  I laughed with her. “Oh Maisie. And here I actually thought this had a chance of working out.”

  “Really? You’re going to let one bad joke ruin this for you?” she asked as I opened the passenger door on the Fairlane.

  I pretended to think it through as I walked around the front and sat behind the wheel. “Maybe. Maybe not. I think we’ll see how the rest of the evening goes before I make a final call.”

  “Who says you’re the one making any calls?”

  “Oh come on, May-bell. You know I’ve always been in charge of our adventures.” I brought the engine to life. “Now, sit back, enjoy the ride, and never, ever massacre Top Gun again.”

  * * *

  I took Maisie to one of my favorite restaurants—a casual place with an ocean view and great food. We laughed. We drank. We ate. We shared stories about work and life and the more she let her guard down, the more I knew I was utterly helpless in this situation. Even though I knew she was temporary, she already had a permanent place in my heart.

  She was beautiful and intelligent and sure, she would be leaving soon, but at that point, I really didn’t care. I’d deal with that heartache later because reconnecting with her was much better than spending the rest of my life wondering what could have been.

  “You know,” Maisie said, running a finger through the condensation on her glass. “I haven’t felt this free in a long time. Honestly, I didn’t know I wasn’t feeling free until today.” She glanced up, her gaze soft and vulnerable.

  “How so?”

  “It’s difficult to explain. The thought is so new, I’m just now starting to understand it. But…” She frowned as she folded her arms on the table and leaned closer. “When I set out to find my career, I thought I’d find kids like me. Kids who were struggling. Kids whose parents weren’t able to care for them for some reason or another. Kids who felt lost and alone. And I wanted to put them on a path to success. I wanted to lift up the downtrodden—you know, leave the world a better place than I found it.”

  “And you’re not doing that now?”

  “I mean, yes. In a way. But sometimes, it feels like I lift them up only to watch them combust a year or two down the road. Fame isn’t easy and most people don’t realize they’re not cut out for it.” She closed her eyes and visibly tried to shake off the thoughts. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. Maybe I’m feeling guilty because I’m letting people down by staying here. Sorry to be such a drag,” she said, opening her eyes with a grimace.

  “You’re not a drag. You are officially the opposite of a drag. And you don’t have to stay, you know. The last thing I want to do is create a problem for you.” The words were hard to say because the greedy side of me never wanted her to leave, but if being here was adding stress to her already stressful life, then I would be an asshole if I didn’t let her go.

  “That’s the thing.” Maisie smiled. “I don’t want to go home. I like the way it feels here, and I am more surprised to admit that than anyone. I never thought I’d want to be this close to where I grew up ever again.”

  I nodded my understanding. “Because of how things were when we were kids.”

  “I thought I left it all behind me. I thought I shed it like an old skin. When Brighton wanted to come back here, I braced myself. My new life meeting my old life seemed like this giant tragedy waiting to happen.”

  I wondered what she would say now that she was here. Did it still feel like a tragedy, the two of us sitting at a table for hours, lost in conversation about who we were, who we became, and where we wanted to go? “Do they know?” I asked. “Does anyone in Los Angeles know how life used to be for you?”

  Maisie threw her head back and laughed. “God no. Could you imagine what Brighton would think if she knew who I was?”

  “Wouldn’t she think you were extra amazing for getting to where you are? When you had to start a mile behind everyone else? Seems like a logical progression of thoughts to me.”

  “If Brighton knew where I came from, she would see that we never really existed on the same level and that would be that. Friendship over.”

  “Then she’s not much of a friend, is she?”

  Maisie dipped her chin toward her shoulder. “Maybe that’s part of what has me feeling so off. No one out there really knows me. Not the real me, anyway. I thought that was the way I wanted it.” She lifted her drink with a shrug then took a sip. “Or maybe it’s just the difference in the way I feel about you versus the way I feel about everyone else.”

  She looked like she was swimming in thoughts so deep she was on the verge of drowning. Like cracks were creeping up her foundation, ready to rattle her to her core. So, while I thought there was still much more she needed to talk about on this subject, I had no intention of pushing forward. Not with her so fragile. Sometimes healing came easiest in parts and pieces instead of a heavy dose of change taken all at once.

  I lifted my drink and drawled in my best voice, “Here’s to being the best at what I do.”

  Maisie burst into laughter. “You’re just as bad as everyone out there, you know. With that fake accent and charming smile.”

  “The smile I can’t help. That’s just me being me. But the accent? There’s nothing LA about it.”

  Maisie almost looked relieved by my statement. “That only proves you’re just as capable of fooling yourself as anyone,” she said, pointing a finger my way, pleased to have me by the balls. “The accent is no different than any actress getting plastic surgery to further her career. You’re playing a part, just like everybody else.”

  “True.” I sat back in my chair, ready to hit her with a dose of truth. “But those nose jobs? They only serve to better the lives of the people getting them. My accent isn’t for me.”

  “Sure. You go ahead and keep telling yourself that.” Maisie laughed and took a long drink, holding my gaze over the rim of her glass.

  “Think about it, May-bell. You saw how people smiled when I talked to them on the boat today. They come down here to get a break from their busy lives, looking to let off some steam, and it brightens their day to have Cap’n Caleb doing his thing. I only use my fake accent for the powers of good. I promise.”

  “Uh-huh…” Maisie’s smile seemed so genuine, I was glad I steered the conversation away from deeper waters. We would have to navigate the turbulence sooner or later, but she hadn’t looked even remotely prepared to dive into the deep end. The last thing I wanted to be was the guy who ruined her perfect life by making her see all th
e ways it let her down.

  Seventeen

  Maisie

  Time flowed away as Caleb and I enjoyed each other’s company. When dinner was over, the glasses were empty, and the bill was paid, I was still nowhere near done drinking him in.

  “What?” he asked, tilting his head quizzically.

  “Just thinking.”

  “That much was obvious. Hence my question.” He rolled his hands through the air as his blue eyes lit up with happiness. “What, exactly, are you thinking about?”

  “You. Us.” I shrugged because that one word held so many implications. Us. Could there even be an us once this fairytale of a vacation was over? Smiling, I said what was on my mind. “I’m not ready for this to end.”

  The statement was true on many levels. I wasn’t ready for our dinner to end. I wasn’t ready for my time in Key West to end. And I wasn’t ready for whatever this was growing between Caleb and me to end.

  “Me neither.” Caleb’s eyes brimmed with emotion and I could have sworn he was also speaking on many levels. “Feel like coming to my house?”

  The answer was simple, just like everything else about being with him.

  Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

  His house was small but tidy, tucked away off the beaten path with a private beach and a hammock stretching between palms. The wraparound porch reminded me of a smaller version of The Hut. All that was missing were the ferns, the Adirondack chairs, and the memories.

  Caleb held open the front door, reaching in to flick on the lights as I stepped inside. “It’s nothing special,” he said, moving easily into his home. “But it works for me.”

  I surveyed the space. Older furniture—clean but broken in. Bare walls, save a few family pictures. One of a younger Caleb caught my attention, his body still in the process of filling out, standing in front of his boat with a grin stretching across his face.

  “That was the day I bought her,” he said, sneaking up behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist, drawing me close so my back was pressed to his front. “I was so proud.”

  “I can see it.” I turned in his arms, so we were face to face. “And you had every right to be proud of yourself.”

  Realization hit me as I stared into his eyes, darkening with desire. I was in his house. In his arms. And there was no way we would have a drink or two and call it a night. When he invited me here, it was for one reason. And when I accepted, it was because I knew that reason. And suddenly, I found myself feeling afraid.

  “Everything about you breaks my rules,” I said, dropping my gaze because I couldn’t withstand the look on his face much longer. He was lust personified, burning with need, sending fire winging through my veins. “I’m a no strings attached kind of girl.”

  “And I have strings?” Caleb’s low voice held an undercurrent of implications.

  “Of course you have strings.” I met his eyes again. “You’re…you.”

  He licked his lips. “You don’t exactly fit into my rulebook, either. I’m not into tourists. Or one-night stands. I’m not a short-term kind of guy.”

  “So what does it mean? Are we making a mistake?”

  Caleb pulled me even closer, angling his mouth over mine. “No,” he said as he leaned in. “Yes.” His kissed the corner of my lips, then cupped my cheeks, pulling away to meet my gaze. “Honestly, I don’t really care anymore.”

  In that moment, I agreed with him. This was both a terrible idea and a wonderful thing and I didn’t have it in me to unravel it all. I turned my head and kissed him full on, losing myself to the heat of his touch. Caleb backed me up, capturing me between his body and the wall, running his hands up my waist, kneading my breast as my nipples pebbled at his touch.

  “Tell me, May-bell,” he breathed as his erection pressed into my belly. “Does this feel like a mistake?”

  I shook my head. “Not even a little bit.”

  He tugged my shirt over my head and buried his face between my breasts, kissing and sucking until I was sure he had marked me. I moaned my appreciation, my body responding to his with an urgency that felt like coming up for air. With the love I felt for him when we were children coloring every decision I ever made, Caleb’s mark was already on my soul. It felt right to have him physically marking me, too.

  I fumbled with his shirt, desperate to feel his skin on mine, to have access to all of him. Finally, I managed to get it off and tossed it on the floor while he unburdened me of the rest of my clothes, then kneeled in front of me, hooking one leg over his shoulder. He worked magic with his tongue, while he slipped a finger inside, working my body into a frenzy.

  Looking down at him, on his knees before me, his face buried between my thighs…seeing him there was a pleasure I couldn’t name. My muscles quivered and danced and I gripped his blond hair, both trying to bring him closer and keep him from pushing me over an edge that seemed impossibly high. Slowly, decadently, he energized my buzzing nerves until need for him overwhelmed me.

  “Caleb…” I breathed his name as my eyes rolled shut. “Please...”

  My hips began to buck as I imagined him inside me, thrusting and groaning, his pleasure heightening mine and mine heightening his in an ever-spiraling dance of gratification. What he was doing felt amazing, but I wanted him.

  He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please what?”

  “Take me to your bedroom or lose me forever.” I smirked and his eyes went wide.

  “What did I tell you about massacring lines from Top Gun?” With that, he swooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder, lightly smacking my ass while I squealed with laughter. His hand stroked over the swell of my bottom, then slipped between my legs. When we reached his bedroom, he lowered me onto the mattress.

  With humor twinkling in his sexy eyes, he stepped out of his shorts then spun them in a circle over his head while swinging his hips. The muscles in his abdomen flexed with the movement and the long line of his dick stood out proudly through his boxer briefs. I laughed at his stripper impersonation as he let his shorts fly, then gasped as he stepped out of the briefs. He was magnificent, his cock long and proud and perfectly shaped.

  Caleb climbed onto the bed, spreading my thighs with his knees while I reached between us to wrap my hand around his hot, velvety length. Moisture dripped from his tip and I swirled my thumb around it, dipping low to stroke the soft indentation under the head.

  He made a low sound of approval in the back of his throat. “Fuck, that feels good.” He dropped his head back and closed his eyes and my lower belly throbbed with need.

  I wanted him inside me. I wanted him buried deep. I wanted him shaping me. Stretching me. Erasing any and all space between us, until we were working toward one goal, as one person, pleasing each other above all things. He reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, tearing the foil and slipping it into place. I watched hungrily as he readied himself for me, then gripped the back of my head and lowered me to the bed, kissing me deeply as he lined himself up and slid inside.

  Fireworks of pleasure lit up the backs of my eyelids. My body sang the Hallelujah chorus and somewhere, a voice whispered finally as I murmured, “Oh, fuck.” And then Caleb started moving, his hands and his lips working in concert with his magnificent dick.

  We were a symphony. A work of art. Perfectly choreographed harmony wrapped up in dirty words and filthy mouths. He ravaged me and I rode him, and the frenzy of our need ended in one desperate shout on his part and a long moan of completion from me as I dropped back on the bed.

  Caleb lowered himself beside me, pushing my hair out of my eyes. I turned to him, a wide perma-grin etched into my face. “We just ruined sex for the rest of the world, you know that?”

  He laughed lightly and propped his head up with his hand. “How so?”

  “No one can ever match what we just did. We set the sex-bar so high, no couple will ever live up to it. And they all know it. Even if they don’t know they know…they know. There’s no way everyone in the wh
ole wide world didn’t feel what just happened. It was that good. That perfect. That…” I ran out of words, realizing it was impossible to explain the connection between us. It defied explanation. It just was.

  He beamed, looking satisfied and happy and so damn handsome he gave every leading man through all the ages a run for his money, and something inside me shifted. The feeling was small, but monumental. It was lovely and terrifying, and completely inevitable.

  We were connected, he and I. Strings firmly attached. A tangle of implications and expectations and as I curled into him, pressing my cheek against his firm chest as he ran a hand through my hair, tears formed in my eyes, though I couldn’t say for sure why.

  Eighteen

  Maisie

  The next morning, the light purr of Caleb’s snores pulled me from sleep. I rolled over and studied his face, appreciating the reddish tint to the stubble growing on his cheeks and chin, the gentle upturn of his nose, his full lips. What we did last night was…

  What was it?

  Wonderful. Inevitable. Magical. Pornographic. Life-altering.

  Little bells went off inside my head on that last one. Ding, ding, ding! Fifty points to Miss Brown! Life-altering is the correct answer!

  Nothing could be the same after last night. We had buried friendship under passion and flipped short-term sex-cations the bird. After what we did, there was a permanence about us that defied our reality.

  Caleb shifted, throwing an arm over his head and sighing in his sleep. I smiled as I slid out of bed, stopping to pull on my undies and his shirt before I padded out of the room in search of coffee.

  My purse lurked on the floor near the door, heavy with the threat of a bajilllionty angry texts, emails, and voicemails from Los Angeles. I stopped to fish out my phone, swiping away the messages without looking at them on my way to the kitchen. If I had any lingering doubts that Caleb and I were perfect together, his Keurig station knocked them straight out of my head. Neatly organized and packed with variety, it was a delightful blend of chaos and harmony. I picked out a pod and popped it into the machine, then tapped out a message to Brighton as I waited for my cup to fill.