Until Winter Breaks

by Elana Johnson

  He gently raised her chin so she’d have to meet his gaze. “Why didn’t you then?”

  “Brady liked my hair long.” Millie didn’t miss the tight twitching of his fingers on her ears, the swell of pity in his eyes, though that only lasted a moment.

  “Well, I think it’s sexy,” he said, dipping his lips dangerously close to her shoulder. “Easier access to all the kissable parts.” He trailed kisses up her shoulder to her jaw, then back behind her ear. She sighed against him, though she was anything but relaxed.

  “You hungry?” he asked, removing his lips from her neck, but not his hands from her hips.

  “Yes,” she said. “And I had an idea about the tables for Sophie’s stand.” She wiggled out of his grip and retrieved plates from the cupboard.

  “Oh yeah?” he said. “I hope it’s as good as the paint color for the walls. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

  She beamed at him for taking her suggestions for the stand, for involving her in this renovation process, for being so open to having her there with him.

  “So I can sew almost anything,” she said as she dished up the food. “And they make this sort of rubbery plastic fabric, you know, for table cloths and Halloween costumes and stuff.”

  She slid him a fork and sat next to him at the table. “I was thinking I’d make her some custom covers for the new tables you ordered.”

  He nodded as he grinned, his eyes remaining on his plate. “Great idea, Mills.”

  She reached for the fabric catalog she’d brought home from the dress shop. “So let’s brainstorm colors, patterns. I bet I can even sew in The Sandy Tortilla if we’re getting intricate.”

  “Oh, so this is a working dinner?” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Here I thought I’d have your undivided attention.”

  She shoved the catalog away. “We’ll take it with us to the stand.” She speared one of his pieces of chicken, laughing when he gaped as she stuffed it in her mouth.

  He stole one of hers, and a bubble of happiness filled her from head to feet. “What’s new at Tripp’s?”

  “We’re getting his trawler ready for the ocean,” Jared said. “Taking ‘er out tomorrow. Day trip. Charting waters. Boring stuff.”

  Millie listened for the curled edges of his voice that might indicate danger. Brady had always assured and reassured her that his jaunts were totally safe, and she’d learned to hear the lilt of a lie.

  She couldn’t hear it in Jared’s voice, which elicited another smile from her. She thought her cheeks might crack by the end of the night if she couldn’t stop.

  “You’re a saint,” Millie said around a mouthful of spicy chicken and ham fried rice.

  “I’ve been called a lot of things,” Jared said. “But never that.” He slid her a wicked grin as he chopsticked his last bite of food into his mouth.

  “You are,” she insisted. “I haven’t had Chinese food in years. It’s so good. Definitely a saint.”

  Jared swallowed, his gaze going from playful to heated in a single breath. “If you knew what I was thinking right now, you wouldn’t say that.”

  Millie felt the heat of his body next to her at the dining table, the subtle shift of his foot as he moved it closer to her, the way his suggestion tingled inside her body. “Oh yeah?” she said, deciding to play along. “What are you thinking right now?”

  He took a long drink of his water. “That if we don’t head over to the taco stand right now, I might take you into your bedroom and show you how unsaintly I really am.” He pushed away from the table and headed for the front door without looking back.

  Millie watched him, her face filling with more heat than she thought possible. She tugged on the collar of her blouse, unsure of when it had gotten so high, or when her house had become so stifling. She also had no doubt that she’d think him even more angelic after that. She thought of him, of them lying next to each other under the same blanket when he wasn’t hurt and drugged, when she wasn’t an emotional invalid.

  The taste of his skin, the stroke of his touch—

  She gulped her water before she joined him outside. He took her hand and pulled her close as they crept down the steps and crossed the lawn. Millie desperately wanted to fill this new silence between them, so she’d stop thinking about being with him.

  “What can I do at the taco stand tonight?” she asked.

  He handed her the helmet and put on his own as he said, “Nothing, sweetheart. I just like having you there while I work.”

  “I like being there while you work.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “Especially when you wear those sleeveless shirts.”

  He blinked at her while a grin graced his face. He stepped closer, squeezing her waist as he closed the distance between them. “Are you sure we can’t just go back to your place?” His voice came out low, filled with want and need—and more.

  Mille heard the love in his voice and it scared her. “Jared, I want to—”

  “Me too,” he said, releasing her and straddling his bike. “Come on, sweetheart. We have a lot of work to do.”

  They definitely did, and not just on the taco stand.

  * * *

  “This blue is perfect,” Millie said, taking in the small space with a few sweeping glances. “Subtle but lovely.”

  Jared seemed to see imperfections her eye skipped over, because he ran his finger along the bubbled ceiling in the corner. “Do you think Sophie will like subtle but lovely?”

  “Absolutely,” Millie said. “The new fridge looks nice too. Fits in with these counters.” She ran her hand along the stainless steel station she knew Sophie used to prep. “Did you polish these?”

  “Maybe.” Jared slid her a sly smile. “I’m gonna level the floor and put in wall-to-wall ergonomic pads. The new tables and umbrellas should be here in a couple of weeks, and I think I’m going to repaint the outside too.” He leaned back and peered at the outside of the taco stand. “Yeah, definitely going to repaint this. What color, do you think?”

  “Yellow?” Millie guessed. “Sophie likes yellow, I think.”

  “Yellow it is,” Jared agreed as he joined her in the tiny taco stand. “Want to help me rip out these old mats?”

  No, she didn’t. She wanted to watch his muscles bunch and flex as he pulled out the old floor. She wanted to watch him strap on that sexy tool belt. She wanted to lay with him in the sand and kiss him until he insisted they go back to her house for more privacy.

  “Are you going to answer me?” He stalked closer. “Or just stare at me?”

  “You said I didn’t have to help.” She gave him a pouty face, which earned her a chuckle.

  “That I did.” He stepped out of the shack and buckled his tool belt around his waist. Millie licked her lips when he reentered and donned a pair of work gloves. She boosted herself onto Sophie’s prep station so he could work on the floor.

  “We’ll go fishing while we’re gone tomorrow,” he said over the sound of the suction cups as he removed the plastic mat from the floor. “Oh, this is disgusting.”

  “Fishing?” Millie asked. “I didn’t know you liked fishing.”

  “It’s all right.” Jared flung the mat out of the stand and went back for more. “Tripp’s going to be busy with a community co-op, and he wants me to know how to run the deep sea fishing groups.” He grunted as he battled the matting.

  Millie appreciated the bulging of his muscles almost as much as she worried about him going out on the ocean. “Is deep sea fishing dangerous?” She tried to ask as casually as possible, like she really didn’t know what to think.

  Jared abandoned his task and met her gaze. “Millie—”

  “It’s just that ‘deep sea’ sounds a little scary.”

  “It’s nothing,” he said. “Maybe if you’re inexperienced or stupid or it storms. But the weather’s clear, and Tripp and I aren’t stupid or inexperienced. We’re well stocked and we’ve been going out on ships our entire lives.”

  He moved to stand right in front of
her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers finding and playing with his ears. “We’ll be fine,” he said. “It’s a day trip. I’ll be back in your arms by nightfall.”

  “Do you even own a fishing pole?”

  He dropped his mouth to her jaw. “Tripp has dozens.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Okay,” he repeated. But he didn’t return to his task. He kissed her, slow and steady, bringing a similar burn to her chest and stomach. He picked her up, and she catalogued every step he took until he laid her on the sand outside the taco stand, curling himself around her.

  She’d never made out with a man on the beach before, and she didn’t allow herself to lose a single moment, a single brush of his fingers through her new, shorter hair, a single ridge on his torso.

  “I need to start coming to the taco stand alone,” he said as he sat up and dusted sand from his hair. “You’re just a distraction.”

  Millie stayed prone in the sand, smiling at the face of the moon as another section of her heart started beating for Jared, and Jared alone.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Good day for fishing,” Tripp said after the sun had been up for a couple of hours.

  Jared grunted his agreement from his position on the railing. He loved sailing almost as much as he loved dipping himself in the ocean every morning. How he’d survived away from the waves for fifteen years had become a mystery to him.

  He checked the GPS and monitored the lines. “Nothing,” he told Tripp. They ate a lunch of tuna sandwiches and potato chips as they moved further from land.

  “I heard Sophie’s coming back for the summer,” Tripp said, breaking the blueness of the water with his voice.

  “Yeah,” Jared said. “Thinkin’ I’ll move out of her place by then.” He reached for his soda can. “We’re not really that close.”

  “You have somewhere to stay?”

  “I’ve been meeting with Shawn,” Jared said. “I’m going to rent something.”

  As Tripp frowned and took a couple swigs of his own cola, it seemed he couldn’t iron out his eyebrows. “Don’t do that,” he finally said. “I have plenty of room. You wouldn’t even have to pay rent.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “I know I’m not as close to Millie as you probably want to be, but—”

  “She doesn’t know yet,” Jared said, pinning his cousin with a glare. “I’m waiting until I have details to share.”

  “If you buy and cook our food you can stay rent-free as long as you’d like,” Tripp said.

  Jared considered him past the edge of comfortable. “You sure? You haven’t even tasted my cooking.”

  “I know it’s better than mine.” Tripp grinned, and Jared laughed.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said, mentally calculating how long it would take him to ride from Tripp’s to Millie’s every day.

  Too long. He wanted the woman in his own bed, snuggled into him before he drifted off and breathing softly beside him after he woke up.

  The GPS beeped and Tripp got up to check it. “We need to start back if we’re going to make it by dark.”

  He climbed the steps into the control room and began the slow turn of the ship back to civilization.

  * * *

  “Signed, sealed, delivered,” Jared purred when Millie pulled open her front door.

  She laughed and stepped back to let him enter. “I wasn’t worried.”

  “Right.” He swept his arms around her and hugged her tightly to him.

  “I wasn’t,” she said into his chest, her heated breath sending a wave of desire straight through him.

  “I’m glad, sweetheart.” He stepped back and looked into her eyes with all seriousness. “And you know, if you ever are, you can contact the Coast Guard. They’ll know if we’ve radioed for help or whatever.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “How’s the shop?”

  “Boring,” she said. “Hopefully I’ll get a few orders for the April and May weddings.” She held up two blu-rays, and Jared’s heart surged with love for the perfect creature before him. Sure, she had some scars, but they only added to her allure.

  He pointed to one of the movies, blind because of his raging emotions, and sat right in the middle of the couch so she could pick which side she’d like to cuddle on.

  As she slid it into the player, she said, “I chose the colors for Sophie’s picnic table covers.”

  “Oh, yeah? What colors?”

  “Not telling.” She slithered into his right side, and he had to start spelling every word she said so he wouldn’t blurt out the three words blooming, swirling, boiling, shooting through his mind.

  “But it’ll match your color scheme, I promise.”

  “Our color scheme,” he reminded her. “I couldn’t have chosen it without you, Millie. You know that, right? I don’t even know Sophie, not the way I should.”

  “Hey.” She sat up, concern riding her expression. “The past is in the past, right? When she gets back to town, you’ll have time to catch up.”

  The past is in the past, Jared thought. If only it really were as easy to believe as it was to say—for him and Millie.

  * * *

  “Wow,” Jared said as he leaned his long body against his parked motorcycle. “You’re really taking this surprise seriously.”

  Millie gripped the black garbage bag concealing the table covers a little tighter. “You got it, Mister. So keep your snooping eyes to yourself.”

  He laughed and unzipped the saddlebag. “Put ‘em in there. I promise I won’t look.”

  She giggled as she placed the tablecloths in the saddlebags and slipped onto the seat behind Jared. They’d filled the last few weeks with movies, Chinese food, and lazy evenings at the taco stand. The tables and umbrellas Jared had ordered had arrived that morning and were professionally installed for the beach by the supply company. Jared had been there to oversee, but Millie had scheduled a consultation with a bride and had to miss it.

  She flexed her fingers against his abdomen, trying to work out the stiffness.

  “Fingers bothering you?” he called over his shoulder.

  “Yes,” she yelled back. “I left the cooling lotion on my sewing table.” She’d been sewing non-stop for two weeks, first to finish the bridal party gowns for a wedding this weekend, and then to squeeze in the tablecloths for Sophie’s stand.

  She liked keeping busy—it made the time at work go by faster. Forced her to think about something besides Jared, especially when he left for a couple of days on the trawler.

  “You leaving again tomorrow?” she asked as he parked.

  “That’s right.” He opened the saddlebag and heaved out the garbage bag. “These are heavy.”

  “Plastic,” she reminded him. “They almost destroyed my surger, but I bought heavy-duty thread and a bigger needle. Then it was like sewing butter.”

  He started to untie the top and she swatted his hand away. “Stop it. You haven’t even brought me to the stand the last two times you’ve come. You need a taste of your own medicine.”

  “I can’t help it,” he shot back. “I wasn’t getting anything done with you sitting there, looking all….” He swept his gaze over her tight jeans and billowy polka-dot top. “Like that.” He strung his fingers through hers as they made their way down the steps to the beach.

  “We’re going out for four days this time,” he said. “Tripp says that should give us the mapping we need for the group next month.”

  “Four days,” Millie repeated, wondering how she was going to endure ninety-six hours without him. “Good thing I booked that wedding gown today.”

  “You need to take a break,” he said. “Give your fingers a day off.” He squeezed them before lifting them to his lips. The gentle warmth of his mouth on her skin sent a shower of shivers through her stomach.

  He unlocked the door to the stand while she moved to the front to examine the picnic tables. “Oh, Jared,” she breathed. The
three tables were arranged in a perfect triangle, each long enough to sit five down each side. They were a glorious, gleaming silver, protected by a neon teal umbrella, a pink shade, and the brightest orange Millie had ever seen. Her tablecloths were going to be the exact compliment to the outdoor seating at The Sandy Tortilla.

  “Don’t come out,” she called. “We can swap surprises.” Since he’d refused to bring her down to the taco stand, she didn’t know how the ergonomic pads on the floor looked or what detail work he’d added to the walls.

  She labored to get the covers on the tables, working them much like a fitted sheet, except they didn’t have the elastic corners. By the time she had all three in place, Jared had called repeatedly and she’d almost asked him to come help.

  “Okay,” she called, surveying how precisely her work fit the tables. Jared joined her, his hand finding hers easily and holding on.

  He whistled in appreciation as he stepped next to the first table and traced his fingers along the edge of the cover. “They’re stunning.”

  She’d paired the lime green one with the teal umbrella. The neon purple with the orange. And a bright yellow with the pink. With her new orders, she hadn’t had time to piece in any words, but the covers were functional and fabulous in plain color.

  Jared pressed a kiss to her temple. “My sister will like this?”

  “She will,” Millie assured him. “She loves bright colors, and this is perfect for a Mexican-style taco stand.”

  “Come see the inside.” He tugged her through the sand and into the stand. Millie paused just inside the door to see a new wooden chopping block running along the front of the stand, with the cash register still next to the fryer.

  The wood had a new logo carved into it, and then painted. The Sandy Tortilla stood out in bright pink against the figure of a hard-shell taco, with a bright blue wave behind that.

  “You carved this?”

  Jared shrugged, which meant yes. A rush of appreciation for his skills soared through Millie. “Sophie will love it.”