by Megyn Ward
Jonas and Simone. Mother and father.
Or as I think of them, Satan and Lilith.
I don’t want Ellie near those people without me to protect her. Even with me there, my inclination is to build a moat around her and a very high stone wall.
I bound around the corner and into the gazebo. She’s got Ellie snuggled close and I nearly scream in panic. Without a word, I snatch Ellie off her lap. “It’s time for supper.”
Jonas smirks at me, seemingly not surprised to see a scantily-clad woman swoop into their gathering and steal a child. His dark and full head of hair is slicked back, showing his bumpy nose. He’s wearing linen shorts and an island-print rayon shirt. Very vacation chic.
I glance quickly at Simone. She’s had highlights and lowlights added to her hair since I saw her a year ago. Her dress, too short for a woman her age, creeps up her thighs where she’s crossed her legs. I’m sure it’s some designer of the moment. I don’t even look too closely at her shoes because I don’t want to slip back into assessing the style and if that designer is trendy enough. I’m sure, if she’s wearing them, the designer is everyone’s latest darling.
“Simone, Jonas.” I nod to them both and turn to leave.
Gram clears her throat by way of commanding me to be polite. It stops me from fleeing but doesn’t force me to face these two people I detest. My parents. By genetics only.
Simone rises and I hear her approach me. “Oh, sweetheart. Can’t you give me a hug?”
Hug? I don’t even want to breathe the same air. I hunch my shoulders and pull Ellie closer.
Ellie squirms in my arm. “Mommy. This is my gramma. Like Gram only not as pretty.”
I can’t resist swiveling around to see the look on Gram’s face. She’s doing an amazing job at keeping a neutral expression but her eyes are dancing. She purses her lips and that sparkle dims. “Lauren. I do hope you’ll join us for a cocktail.” I probably get my acting gene from her.
Ellie wriggles enough my grip loosens and I must release her. “I’d love to, Gram. You know how much I enjoy pain and suffering. But I really need to feed Ellie and get her to bed.”
Gram accepts that as if I’m a perfectly civilized person having a normal conversation, not a daughter and a mother trying to protect me and Ellie from the two most toxic people on the planet.
Jonas stands and puts an arm around Simone. “Nonsense, Lauren. Please sit with us for just a moment. We’ve been enjoying the most delightful visit with our granddaughter. She’s a joy. You’re obviously a remarkable parent.”
Every single word he speaks makes me want to punch him. His ingratiating tone and formal vocabulary is meant to please Gram. “What would you know about what makes a good parent?”
He slaps a hand over his heart. Simone lowers her chin and taps two fingers to the edge of an eye as if catching a tear before it ruins her mascara.
“I understand your resentment,” Jonas says. “And you’re right. I didn’t do well by you.”
Simone makes her voice quiver on the verge of tragic tears. “I should have been a more loving mother to you. But honestly, Liesa—.”
“Lauren.” I correct her in a harsh voice.
She waves her hand, her face contorts with fake pain. “Of course, Lauren. I did the best I could. I thought making you a star would bring you happiness.”
I give Gram a can you believe this? look.
Gram stares into the mango tree. The crickets take up the silence as I wait.
Ellie dances on tiptoe around the gazebo, singing a song about bumblebees Deborah taught her. She’s got the cutest island accent but tonight, it doesn’t trickle sunshine into my heart, as it usually does. I want to yell at her to shut up. Quit being adorable and charming. These are people we don’t want to like us. We need them to leave.
Jonas tilts his head and gives me Bassett hound eyes. “I know you don’t see this now, but your mother and I tried to give you the world on a platter. We nearly succeeded.”
I should keep my mouth shut. No good can come of me spouting off to them. The last time I saw them, over a year ago, was a chance encounter at a restaurant on Seven Mile Beach. Gram had dragged me out for one of her high teas and, fuck me, there were Simone and Jonas.
Poor Gram. They hadn’t told her they were visiting the island. I imagine they intended to fly in and out, have a grand vacation, and never bother to let her know they were here. That was fine for me, but I saw the hurt on Gram’s face. That flat out pissed me off.
I’d grabbed Simone and dragged her to the bathroom and backed her against a wall. I made her understand she and Jonas were to tell Gram they wanted to surprise her and were actually on their way to Gram’s house.
Gram says she knows Jonas plays up to her and that he only treats her well so she’ll remember him in her will. But I know she doesn’t really believe that. Or, at the least, thinks he might develop a real affection for her. She’s willing to keep letting him in. And he never fails to hurt her.
I can’t blame her for her hope. Maybe he will miraculously turn human at some point.
I don’t know what it would take for me to turn my back on Ellie. I can’t imagine her hurting me so badly that I wouldn’t always be willing to let her back into my heart.
But I have no love for either Simone or Jonas. They’re snakes and I have no intention of picking them up and letting them bite me. Again.
I do love Gram, though, so I keep my mouth shut about Jonas and Simone almost succeeding with Liesa’s Life.
We’d made billions on that show. Enough to keep us all in a comfortable lifestyle until we died and still had enough to spare for some useful philanthropy. But Simone needed all the toys. Handbags, houses, shoes, vacations, surgeries. I don’t even know how a person can run through so much.
And Jonas got greedy and didn’t know when to quit. If we hadn’t done the last season, we’d have walked away wealthy, despite Simone’s excesses. But Jonas threw so much money around to create buzz, trying to bail out the sinking ship.
I escaped penniless and if it hadn’t been for Gram’s help, I don’t know how I’d have managed with Ellie. So, for Gram, I’ll play nice.
I sit at the empty chair and Jonas and Simone settle themselves back in their own white wicker. Gram leans forward and picks up the full iced tea pitcher and pours me a glass. “Lauren hardly ever drinks alcohol when she’s caring for Ellie. An admirable trait, don’t you think?” she says to Jonas and Simone.
Simone, who spends most of her time ranging from her low-level mimosa buzz of the morning to her drugged out gin stage of late evening, sneers at me. “I found motherhood more doable with the edge taken off.”
Jonas pats her leg and laughs loudly, as if she told a joke. “I’m sad I never got to experience the joys of being a father. I’d like to make up for that now.”
I choke on my tea. “I think that ship sailed, Jonas. But thanks for the thought.”
He gives me that special sincere look. “I’m serious. I was around somewhat while you were growing up because of your career, but I’m afraid it wasn’t enough.”
I don’t even try to sound polite. “You were around plenty.”
He leans forward. “But I want to make that up to you now. And little Ellie.”
Ellie whips her head up from where she’s been studying a large beetle by the stairs. “I’m not little anymore.”
His laugh is so fake I roll my eyes. He puckers his lips and rounds his consonants. “Of course, sweetheart. You is a big girl.”
I raise my finger in a halt motion but Gram beats me to the lecture. “We do not use baby talk nor do we talk down to children in this house. They are human beings and as such, will be treated with respect.”
God, I love Gram.
Simone slides a dismissive glance at Gram and levels her focus on me. “We, your father and mother, have decided it’s time to take our rightful place in your family life.”
I’m grinding my teeth wondering how much more I can take befor
e my head explodes and I spew hot ashes all over them.
Again, Gram shifts her attention to the darkness outside the gazebo. They’re going to say something Gram knows I won’t like and she’s not going to interfere. I’m good at reading Gram’s body language.
“We’ve agreed to move in with Mother,” Jonas says. “That way, we can be a real family.”
My mouth drops open. Where the hell is Kylie when you need her?
Chapter 15
Blake
I sit on the dock watching the ocean swells while the sun sets and the crickets take over. On the other side of the island, tourists gather in seaside bars to watch the sunset. On this side, a peace takes over and the day fades to night.
I’m sitting not a mile away from where I took Lauren on her first night dive. It’s where we got into a mess of jellyfish and Lauren panicked. I’ll never forget the fear that exploded in my chest as I saw her kick toward the surface and I heard the buzz of an outboard motor speeding our way. I don’t know how I got to her in time to yank her below the boat’s cutting propeller blades. That’s the moment I knew I’d do anything for that girl.
Would I still?
The way she felt wrapped around me this afternoon made my heart believe in love again. It wasn’t some dutiful, mild-mannered servicing. She’d given herself completely, willing me to take more. To take it all.
And I had. Then she’d laughed at me and walked away. It meant nothing to her.
For hours I’ve been sitting here feeling guilty. I never told her about Erika. How could I when I hadn’t even thought about Erika? All the while I was touching, tasting, fucking another woman, my fiancé’s face hadn’t entered my mind.
What have I done?
I was supposed to be making peace with my past to clear the boards for a fresh start with my bride. Instead, I was rolling around in the tank shed with an old girlfriend. This is not the guy I am.
Not the guy I want to be. I made a commitment to Erika. I have no business being with Lauren.
But it felt so right. As if we were meant to be together.
If that was true, why would she be so casual about leaving me here?
There’s no denying it. If she wanted me, I’d break it off with Erika tonight. I’d move here. Or take Lauren to New York. Wherever she wanted so I could be with her. Forever.
She doesn’t want me forever. She only wants me for now.
If that’s all I can have her, then that’s what I’ll take.
Erika.
Can I live with the old adage: what happens in Cayman stays in Cayman?
I have to, because I can’t live with not being with Lauren again.
My golf cart car is the only vehicle in Paradise Found’s parking lot. I have no trouble retracing my route to Mrs. Knightly’s compound and letting myself in the back gate. Someone is moving around in the big house. The windows and doors are closed and I suppose the air conditioning is keeping things cool inside.
Kylie and Zach’s house is dark, and only a slight glow radiates from Lauren’s house. I feel like a peeping Tom sneaking across the bricks, moving from shadow to shadow. I stop a little ways from the screened front door. She’s sitting on a backless bar stool, a filmy shift covering her, one spaghetti strap slipped from her shoulder.
She holds a paintbrush and leans toward a canvas on an easel. She isn’t moving and maybe hasn’t for some time. I don’t want to be a creep so I whistle in a low, quiet way that I used when we met in secret four years ago.
Her head snaps up and she whirls around on the stool. She stares out the open door and I don’t know if she can see me in the darkness. She’s beautiful. No hair or blonde tresses, it wouldn’t matter. She’s my Liesa. I will never love anyone like I love her.
I whistle again and she stands, puts the brush in a glass jar and tiptoes out of my view. At first, I’m devastated because I think she’s running from me. But she reappears.
Of course, she’s babysitting Kylie’s daughter. She sneaks to the screen and looks over her shoulder. She seems satisfied and slips into the darkness to me.
Chapter 16
Lauren
I’ve been staring at this painting for hours. I consider the dab of red I added inside the petal of the pink blossom. Is that right? Maybe I should cover it and highlight the other edge? Absentmindedly, I paint a perfect sand dollar into one of the swirls like a secret code only Blake could unravel.
Ellie hadn’t balked too much when we’d made my escape from the gazebo. Probably because I promised her ice cream if she ate a good dinner. I know Gram isn’t happy about Jonas and Simone moving in. There’s a reason she made separate quarters for me and Kylie. And it isn’t to give her granddaughters our privacy.
I need to talk to Gram but that’s not going to happen until at least tomorrow evening. Jonas and Simone wasted no time moving in and I’ve got to be at the shop first thing tomorrow. Gram doesn’t do mornings so that pushes our talk until later. If Gram wants, I’ll dispatch Jonas and Simone without involving her. I’m not sure how I’ll get them out, but Gram and Ellie are my top priorities.
I raise the brush again and it stays poised over the painting. My skin tingles and an electric shock sips up my spin, tapping each vertebra on the way.
Blake. He’s close.
I’m not even surprised when I hear his whistle.
It’s not until he whistles again that I realize that I’m frozen.
Dropping my paintbrush into a nearby jar, I stand and make my way down the hall to check on Elli before pulled the door closed.
Blake is here.
Waiting for me in the piazza.
This afternoon in the tank shed had been rash and impulsive. I’d do it again, a million times over but this is different.
This is real.
Smoothing my hand down the front of my dress I step into the kitchen to move through the front door and into the courtyard.
It’s dark and the shadows are thickest under the low hanging branches of a mango tree. That’s were Blake is waiting for me. I can feel him, the heat of his eyes on me. Moving across the brick walkway, I step into the dark. Even though I know he’s there, even though I know it’s him, I still gasp when I feel his hand close over my wrist to pull me deeper into the shadows.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, his tone a low, tight growl that vibrates and pings off of every nerve ending I have. His hands find the hem of my dress and push under it, smoothing across the tops of my thighs to grip my ass. Fingers digging in to soft flesh as he turns me, my back suddenly pressed against something rough and unyielding. “The way your pussy feels, wrapped around my cock...” Strong fingers find the edge of my panties. “How good my name sounds coming out of your mouth...” He curls his fingertips around the waistband and begins to pull them down over my hips. “How it’s been four years and I still can’t get the taste of you out of mine.” He draws them down my legs until they’re around my ankles and my knees are shaking.
“Blake...” I moan his name when I feel those fingers of his skate up the inside of my thigh, his touch bringing on a sudden rush of warmth between them while the other reaches between us to close over my breast. “I—” I’m not sure what I was about to say but it doesn’t matter. Whatever it was, the words get lost when I feel his fingers trace the seam of my swollen pussy, pushing past my slick folds to tease my entrance.
“Open your legs for me,” he says, his tongue flicking across my nipple through the thin silk of my dress, a second before his mouth closes over it completely. He sucks and nips me through the fabric, his teeth grazing and skimming over me. The rhythmic pull of his mouth setting me on fire.
It’s like the last four years have melted away. Like they never happened. I’m as ready and willing as I always was. Whatever Blake wants. Whatever he asks for, I’ll give it to him, every single time.
Because I’m his.
He strokes his fingers into me, slow and deep, the pad of his thumb brushing against my throbbing cli
t, again and again, each thrust of him inside me matched perfectly to the draw of his mouth on my nipple. The tight, hot circles he’s giving my clit.
“Blake,” I say his name again, this time squeezing my eyes shut in an effort to keep my brain from scattering. I push a hand between us and he groans deep in this throat when I close my hand around the shaft of his straining cock. “I need...” He pumps his fingers into me so deep my eyes fly open and my thoughts are blown apart. “I need...” Finding the tie keeping his shorts closed, I yank on it, making room for my hand to push past his waistband.
He finally lifts his head, leaving my nipple tingling as he tongue glides up the length of my neck. “Your cock,” he whispers in my ear, the fingers between my thighs still stroking and pushing me toward the edge. “Blake, I need your cock—is that it?”
“Yes.” I nod, too far gone to form more than a single word, let alone a complete sentence. “Please—”
The hand between my legs nudges them further apart while his other arm slips under my ass and lifts me off my feet. The pressure of his hips pushes my thighs further apart and I wrap my legs around them to pull him closer. My arms around his neck. My fingers in his hair. He kisses me, licking his way into my mouth, his tongue rubbing and swirling against mine a split second before I feel the head of his cock slam into me, stealing my breath with a hard, fast stroke that nearly blinds me.
And then Blake is fucking me, the length of him pumping in and out of me, matching the frantic rhythm of his tongue against mine. His thumb still pressed and stroking my hot clit.
I come hard and fast, the orgasm shuddering its way through me with so much force I can feel myself being blown apart, every inch of me on fire as my pussy grips and flexes around the rigid length of his cock.
