by Cherrie Lynn
“No. I thought about it but decided not to. I have an apartment in the city but lately I’ve spent almost as much time here as I have at home. I think it’s therapeutic, seeing the gulf as often as I can.”
“I can see that.”
“Want to walk out there?” he asked.
“I’d love to.”
Chapter Nine
Savannah wasn’t sure how long they walked the beach or how far they went. Conversation with him flowed so easily. Even their silences, while not completely comfortable yet, weren’t the torture they usually were when she was getting to know someone. Once his little house had faded in the distance, they turned and strolled back with the waves just reaching their feet. She found herself wishing they had farther to go, longer to stay, but all too soon they’d reached his house again.
He didn’t seem any more eager to end their time out here than she was. Together they stood on the sand, staring out at the flat limitless black beyond, the stars sparkling above.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, closing her eyes and letting the wind lift her hair off her shoulders. Peace settled over her such that she hadn’t known in weeks. She felt so tiny, so infinitesimally small out here, but there was comfort in that, in knowing she was only a blip in this vast universe. That there were powers in control beyond her narrow scope.
“I spent a lot of time here,” Michael said, his voice bringing her back. It was a nice place to come back to. “After.”
“I don’t think I would ever leave.”
His laugh was warm, touching her in some deep part of her soul that had felt dead and withered for so long, bringing it to life again. “Believe me, it was tough to. I only left to find you.”
“Oh, it wasn’t me you were looking for.”
“I didn’t know it at the time, yeah. But I’m glad you were who I found.”
She stole a glance up at his solemn profile, cast in silhouette by a distant light. “Me too,” she said. Then she found his hand with hers, curling her fingers tentatively around its solid warmth. When he took hold, she lost her breath. Hard, callused fingers rasped against her delicate skin. She’d only thought she felt tiny before, she’d only thought touching him outside his truck had affected her. The strength thrumming under his skin turned her knees to jelly. The surf washing away the sand under her feet made her unsteady, as if one false step could wash her away too—or maybe it was just him. His tidal influence over the ebb and flow of her body, the one she’d only discovered now, with his hand around hers.
“Oh, God,” she said weakly, lowering her head. She couldn’t feel this way. She couldn’t. She didn’t know him, and no one would understand. But instead of letting go, she only squeezed his hand harder. The only anchor she had in this maelstrom of emotion was the hand that might very well have ended Tommy’s life.
“Savannah?”
A tear fell from her eye, traveling all the way to the wet sand at her bare feet. She couldn’t let him see her cry. He would feel responsible. “I’m okay.” A shudder racked her, belying her words.
“Come here.” She should have protested, but she couldn’t. All there was to do was go into his arms, bury her face in his chest, let him hold her while her silent tears leaked onto his shirt. It felt like such a safe place, like nothing could ever hurt her here. But how many people had learned differently? How many people had suffered because of the power in this body next to hers?
His hand stroked down her head, taming her hair from the teasing effects of the gulf wind. Hard to believe a hand that touched her so gently could ever hurt anyone.
Beneath her cheek, his heart beat strong and steady, nothing like the erratic acrobatics hers was performing. If she could just hide here with him and never have to face the world again, maybe everything would be okay.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and she heard the words rumble through his chest.
She swallowed against the lump in her throat. God, how could she tell him when she didn’t know herself? “I’m trying not to.”
“I know all about that.”
“Tell me something about you.” Something good, she pleaded silently. The surprise he felt at her request, and then the resulting discomfort, was practically palpable.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Anything you would like to tell me.”
His stillness was telling in itself, but she waited for him, hoping he would say something perfect. “I haven’t had it easy, Savannah. An Internet search can tell you pretty much all you need to know.”
“No. It can’t help me know you.”
“Here’s something. I would do anything for my brothers. And I have. I’ve done everything for them.”
Loyalty. He was loyal to a fault, too loyal for his own good, maybe. “Your mother? You’ve never really mentioned her.”
“My mother’s dead.”
She lifted her head to look at him, finding a distance in his expression that had her reaching for him without even thinking about it, trying to bring him back to her. The moment her hand touched his stubble-roughened cheek, he found her again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “If you don’t want to—”
“If you need to know, I’ll tell you. It’s not anything I’ve ever tried to hide. Yes, I did everything I could for her too. But I couldn’t save her from herself. She overdosed on heroin when I was eighteen.”
“My God. How old were your brothers?”
“Zane was sixteen, Damien fourteen. Zane is the one who found her.” He sighed, his chest rising and falling beneath her cheek. She tightened her arms around him. “It was bad, but I can’t say it was unexpected. At least it wasn’t to me.”
“What do you do after something like that? I can’t even imagine.”
“First off, you try to keep your younger brothers out of foster care. Mom had alienated any family we had a long time ago. Living with their fathers wasn’t an option because they had records. So it fell to me. I was an adult in the eyes of the law but still a kid. I dropped out of school my senior year so I could go to work to support them, and went to prizefights whenever I could. I already had a coach getting me some amateur stuff. Some mornings after getting my ass kicked, I hurt so bad I could hardly move, face all busted up, but I still dragged myself to whatever job I managed to find. Two jobs, sometimes three. They’ll never know everything I did for them. I don’t want them to.”
She lifted her head to look up at him, horrified by his story. “The first day we met, Michael, you told me you were a horrible person. I’m confused. The person you’re describing is not that, not at all. The person who arranged this trip so Rowan and I can feel better is not that.”
Even in the darkness, she could see the cold void in his eyes, as if he were looking at something terrible that only he could see. “Bad shit follows me, Savannah. It just does. I don’t know if I’m working off some kind of karma or what. It never ends.”
“That can’t be true,” she protested. “I accept that Tommy was an accident. My family probably never will, but that’s how they are. It’s no reflection on you because the way they feel is based on a lie.”
“Tommy isn’t the only one.”
Those words affected her like ghostly fingertips up her spine. “Who?” she asked softly.
“When I was a kid, my mother had a new man every month, and none of them except for one or two were worth a shit. The ones who were decent didn’t last long, because they couldn’t deal with her issues. But it seemed the worse they were, the longer they were around. Some of them were straight-up predators. I was a kid and I saw these things; she was an adult and she didn’t, or else she didn’t care.”
Savannah didn’t need to hear any more. She didn’t think she could. “Anything you did in defense of your family was completely understandable.”
“Is it?” he asked, searching her eyes. “Why does it still follow me?”
“Maybe because you let it?”
“Believe me, if I could shake it,
I would.”
“I know. Easier said than done. Probably the worst thing I’ve ever done is shoplift a box of condoms; I’m not one to give advice.”
He blinked at her and then, amazingly, burst out laughing. The shock of it stunned her, but after a moment of embarrassed silence—had she really just told him that?—she couldn’t help but join in. My, but he was gorgeous when he laughed. “Well! I didn’t want the lady at the checkout counter to know I was going to have sex. Turns out I didn’t anyway. What a jackass that guy turned out to be.” Actually, the damn things expired before she could ever use even one of them, but he didn’t have to know that. “To think I risked a misdemeanor over him.”
“I needed that,” Mike said once he’d caught his breath. “But don’t hold it against me that I’m glad you sent the jackass packing.”
“Oh, I’m glad too. I should have made him get the damn condoms.”
Easily, naturally, Mike’s hands found hers again, both of them. This time his fingers laced through hers, sending a nice shivery sensation through her. The slightly uncomfortable girth of his fingers between hers had her thoughts running wild with imagining the girth of other areas of his body. “You’re something else,” he said.
“But you don’t know what, right?” she teased.
“No,” he admitted, shaking his head a little dazedly. “I don’t know what. Yet.”
“Same here.” Oh God, was he leaning closer? She felt dizzy looking up at him with the stars all around his head, like they revolved around him. A small wave washed up around her feet, cool and fleeting. Simple as that wave that touched her, his lips touched hers, then drew back. Simple, but enormous. Savannah shivered, drinking in his breath, off balance and whirling though she stood perfectly still, held to earth by nothing but his hands holding hers.
More. Please. She tried to tell him without saying a word, looking into his eyes, seeing the raw need there. And he came back to her, his mouth opening against hers now to invite a deeper contact. The wind whipped wildly around them and she let him in, let his tongue tease inside her mouth and coax hers out to play. His thumbs drew lazy circles on her palms, drawing desire from a wellspring inside her that had been dry for so long now—
“Mike!” a shout came, borne on the wind. It jolted them apart, Savannah blushing and trying to tame her hair into something that looked like it was attached to her head, Mike straightening his shirt. “Is that you, man?”
Michael turned around to face the direction from which the voice had come, lifting an arm in greeting. “It’s me,” he called back.
The guy walking toward them in white T-shirt and khaki shorts stopped suddenly. “Oh, my bad, didn’t see you had company.”
Mike put a steadying hand to the small of Savannah’s back. She still thought her knees might buckle at any moment. “It’s all right. This is Savannah. Savannah, this is my neighbor Randall.”
“Nice to meet you,” she managed to say. Randall reached them and held out a hand, which she shook. His other hand was wrapped around a beer can.
“Likewise. I was just gonna tell you, we’ve got steaks and burgers up here. We’re all sitting around shootin’ the shit, drinking a few, you know. Y’all should come on up.”
Savannah expected Mike to turn down the offer, but before he answered, he looked at her. “Are you hungry yet?”
“I am, yeah. I don’t think I realized how much.” She hadn’t had anything to eat since the plane ride over, and all at once it felt like it. And she needed some time to collect her thoughts; that kiss had scrambled them to hell and back. His lips were as strong as every other part of him.
“Well all right!” Randall exclaimed with the happiness only experienced by the inebriated. “Beer’s on ice, margaritas are in the blender if the lady so wishes.”
Oh, damn, the last thing she needed was to get tipsy, but at the moment it was the main thing she wanted. “We probably won’t stay too long,” Mike said, keeping his hand at Savannah’s back as they began the walk up the beach toward the houses.
“I hear ya, I hear ya.” Randall cackled knowingly. As soon as they reached the deck outside his house, where a delicious scent was wafting from the grill, Savannah met Randall’s wife, Jenna, and two other couples whose names she tried to remember but promptly forgot. All she could see, really, was the man who had touched and kissed her out there by the water as if she might break. Every time she thought about it—which was pretty much constantly—her heart flipped over in her chest.
“So how long have you and Mike been dating?” Jenna asked after leading Savannah into the kitchen for hamburger fixings.
“Oh, we’re not . . . I mean . . .” Good God, she couldn’t even conjure up an explanation for this. But Jenna only laughed. She was petite and very pretty, with dark blond hair she’d been smart enough to pull back in the beach wind and kind hazel eyes. She handed Savannah a plate with a toasted bun.
“Believe me, I know how it is,” she said, directing Savannah to the lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles spread out on the kitchen island.
“We went to his brother’s concert tonight because my sister-in-law is a big fan,” Savannah explained. “And we sort of ended up here.” That sounded safe enough.
“That’s right! I’d forgotten those guys were playing tonight. One day maybe I’ll get Randall to take me to a concert. We have small kids—who happen to be with Grandma tonight—and when we get a rare night off from parenting, we’re so old and boring we’d rather just hang out here than go out.”
“I don’t even have kids and I already understand that.”
“Well, if you’re wondering,” Jenna said, pointing vaguely toward the patio doors with the knife from the mayonnaise jar, “that is a wonderful man out there. We think the world of him. I always have to tell this story about Mike whenever we meet a friend of his: when our oldest son was twelve, about three years ago, Mike saved him out there from a riptide.”
“Oh, wow,” Savannah said, momentarily at a loss for anything else to offer. “That’s amazing.”
“Risked getting caught up in it himself, but he knew exactly what to do. Just went after him like some kind of damn superhero and got him out. I had started running out there myself to go after him, but Mike yelled at me to stay, and it’s a good thing because I probably would have drowned or made him have to save me too. But he got him back while I stood on the beach a screaming, hysterical mess, watching my kid get pulled out from shore.” Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to spreading mayo on her bun. “Scariest day of my life. We owe him so much, and he waves it off like it was nothing.”
Incredible. Savannah watched his tall figure through the clear glass door, where he was chatting with his friends out on the deck and occasionally drinking from a beer can, imagining him pulling such a heroic feat. Striding from the water like some kind of sea god to return Jenna’s child to her. She must have wanted to kiss him. Savannah damn sure did. Again.
“Thanks for telling me that,” she said to the other woman. “I know it’s probably hard to talk about. But I needed to hear it.”
“I will vouch for him anytime. He’s getting a lot of shit in the press lately, you know? It makes me so mad.” Jenna abandoned the knife with a clatter on the cutting board as Savannah tensed, hoping she wasn’t about to say anything Savannah didn’t want to hear. “I guess it’s sort of to be expected, I mean, we know what opinions are like, right? Everyone has one. But don’t listen to any of that crap, not that you have been. We know him. He’s good people.”
“I believe you,” Savannah said quietly, piling lettuce and a tomato slice on her bun. She still hadn’t quite gone off alert.
“It’ll all blow over soon and everyone will be caught up in the next scandal, anyway, right?”
For that matter, they already were. Savannah mostly avoided sports news, but on the few occasions she’d let herself take a peek, there wasn’t much being said. Tommy was already becoming a distant memory. That was perhaps the saddest thing of
all: how soon one could be forgotten. He wasn’t a scandal, or a tough break, she thought. He was my brother, and he was loved.
She couldn’t let herself forget.
In the end, she did have a drink—she needed it—but stopped at one. The food was delicious, and out on the deck the conversation flew fast and furious, but as the outsider, Savannah didn’t partake much after the exchange in the kitchen. Like the guy in the elevator, Jenna hadn’t meant any harm, but her words had cast a pall. She’d only wanted to defend her friend and hero, and that was okay. It was wonderful that these people held Michael in high regard, and he seemed to return the sentiment. He drank a couple of beers, joked and laughed as if this were a normal date where no one had a care in the world, and she found herself wishing so hard that it could be that way.
Why? God, just . . . why?
Chapter Ten
“They seemed nice,” she said as Mike unlocked the door to his house.
“They are. They’ve put up with me enough, that’s for sure.”
When he ushered her in before him, she stepped inside. “Oh, I don’t think ‘put up’ is what they do with you,” she said wryly, trying vainly to tame her hair.
“I guess you got the story Jenna loves to tell.”
“Immediately. I got that story within the first thirty seconds.”
He chuckled, and she was struck by the way his lips perfectly framed his strong white teeth. Oh God, he’s gorgeous. Even as short as his hair was, it hadn’t escaped the wind’s havoc. The beers had brought a flush to his cheeks. “Yeah, she’s a little enthusiastic. He’d pretty much gotten himself out of the riptide, kid’s a strong swimmer. He knew what to do, which way to swim. I just made sure he made it back to shore without getting tired.”
Well, he had his side, Jenna had hers, and the truth was probably somewhere in the middle. “Either way, it’s pretty damn incredible of you to do that. It was still risky.”
