by Lisa Jackson
“Look…I didn’t mean…oh, hell!” He pounded a fist into the ground, then rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky through the pine branches. The bulge in his jeans was still evident, as were the taut muscles of his jaw. “I wanted to be with you. I just didn’t realize that things would get this out of hand.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, hoping to hide the irrational disappointment that burrowed deep in her soul. She should be grateful for his self-control. Lord knew hers had fled. Brushing the sand from her skin and the folds of her blouse, she forced a brave smile. “Nothing happened.”
“Yet. Nothing happened yet. But it wouldn’t take long.” He sent her a look that fairly sizzled. “Don’t try to pretend you didn’t feel it.”
“I think you should just take me back to the dock,” she said, wondering how she could have acted so wantonly. She thought of Trish London and realized that all too easily, she could have been seduced by Hayden. Or was it the other way around? Had she inadvertently started to seduce him? Their newfound relationship was already too complicated and frightening to think about.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Hayden said. “I liked what happened between us. It was what I wanted. Or thought I wanted. But…” He opened and closed one fist in frustration. “We should think of the consequences.”
The consequences of getting mixed up with a girl from the wrong rung on the social ladder, she thought with a bitter taste rising in her throat. “I don’t think we should talk about it.”
He shook his head. “And just pretend that what we feel for each other doesn’t exist?”
What we feel for each other. Her throat clogged. “I…I don’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before!”
“Me, neither,” he admitted, and with a shaky smile, drew her into his arms again. She wanted to resist, but when he placed a tender kiss upon her cheek, she melted inside. With a sigh he rested his forehead against hers. “Some mess, eh?”
She almost laughed.
“Come here,” he whispered roughly and tilted her chin upward before capturing her lips in a kiss that was sweet and chaste and so tender, it nearly broke Nadine’s heart.
“What the hell is this?” Ben’s voice boomed through the woods, reverberating through the trees and causing Nadine to jump away from Hayden, but she couldn’t go very far. With lightning swiftness he caught her wrist and held her fast. Ben, nearly six feet of towering rage, strode into the clearing. His near-black eyes snapped with anger.
“Ben, don’t—” Nadine interjected.
“What the devil are you thinking?” His gaze scraped her up and down, and the lines around the corners of his mouth turned white as he stared at her hair and open shirt. Her suit covered her breasts but one strap was still dangling over her arm.
“Oh, God, Nadine, what’re ya doing?”
“I don’t see that it’s any business of yours!” Nadine tied her blouse beneath her breasts.
“Like hell!”
“You weren’t invited, Powell,” Hayden said, his fingers still gripping Nadine possessively.
“This is my sister.”
“I can handle myself!” Nadine interjected.
“You’re only seventeen!”
“That’s no reason for you to think you’re my keeper!” she shot back.
“Well, it looks like someone has to be!”
“That’s enough,” Hayden warned, his eyes narrowing.
Every muscle in Hayden tensed, but Ben didn’t back down an inch. In fact, he seemed almost glad to have a reason to fight—an enemy he could pinpoint.
His fists curled menacingly. “Take your hands off my sister.”
“Oh, stop it!” Nadine said, jerking out of Hayden’s grasp.
Hayden’s nostrils flared, and he looked more than eager for the fight that was simmering in the air. “Don’t let him tell you what to do, Nadine.”
“I won’t!” Outraged, she marched up to her brother and jabbed a finger at his chest. “Leave me alone, Ben. I can handle myself! I’m a big girl now.”
“Who’s about to make a big mistake! If she hasn’t already.” Ben plucked a brittle twig from her hair and twirled it in front of her nose.
“My mistake to make.”
“Damn it, Nadine. Use that thick skull of yours.”
“And you take your macho, big-brother act somewhere else.” So angry she was shaking, she stared Ben down.
“Nadine—”
“I said I can take care of myself.”
“You always were too stubborn for your own good!” Mumbling a curse under his breath, he threw a killing glance over his sister’s shoulder. “Don’t you dare touch her, Monroe. Not so much as a finger—”
“Ben!”
Her brother glared at her, but beneath the rage she noticed a deep regret in his eyes. His words, however, cut like the bite of a whip. “Listen, Nadine, I expect you back at the dock in fifteen minutes. If you’re not there, I’m not waiting. You can explain all…this—” he flung his arms wide “—to Mom and Dad.”
Swiftly Hayden crossed the short distance and glared at Ben. Heat seemed to rise from his body, and the tension he used to restrain himself was visible in the vein pulsing at his temple. “Don’t you ever threaten her,” he ordered.
“Just as long as you leave her alone.” With a scathing glance cast at the rich boy, Ben muttered a choice blue oath under his breath and turned quickly and disappeared down a path. A few seconds later Nadine heard the sound of his boat’s engine grind, then roar away, leaving only a disturbing silence.
“I’m sorry,” she said, as Hayden’s face turned to stone. “I don’t know what got into Ben—”
“I’d better take you home.”
“You don’t have to.”
His jaw tightened. “Ben’s right—”
“Ben’s never right!”
“Look, you’re not going to get into any trouble because of me. Come on.” Without another word of explanation, he grabbed the mooring ropes and tossed them inside the boat. Nadine had no choice but to follow.
CHAPTER THREE
MIRACLE OF MIRACLES, Ben managed to keep his mouth shut. Nadine didn’t know if he was honoring their unwritten code not to tell on each other, or if, because he’d been with Patty Osgood, he was as guilty as she of being with the wrong person. The purple patches on Ben’s skin, just below the collar of his shirt, were proof enough of Patty’s passion. If the Reverend Harry Osgood ever found out that Patty had been showing off her body and kissing Ben in his boat, there was sure to be fire and brimstone in the service on Sunday.
At dinner, Ben had ample opportunity to let the family know that Nadine had been spending time with Hayden, but he’d studiously avoided talking about waterskiing at the lake. Though several times he cast Nadine a meaningful glance across the table, he never said a word. Not even to their older brother, Kevin, when the subject of the sawmill came up.
“You’d think old man Monroe would provide a Coke machine or something out in the sheds,” Kevin said as he pronged a slice of ham with his fork.
Their father, always the defender of Garreth Monroe, scooped macaroni salad onto his plate. “There’s soda in the company cafeteria.”
“Big deal.” Kevin glowered at his father and hunched over his plate, even though their mother had told him often enough to sit up straight but at twenty-two, he was well past paying attention. In Nadine’s opinion, Kevin was still a kid in a lot of ways. He liked younger girls, had lost all interest in college when he couldn’t play basketball and he seemed restless, though he wouldn’t give up living in Gold Creek. “All Monroe cares about is making money!” He reached for the salt shaker.
“And that’s what he should be thinking about. Remember, I’ve got money invested with him.”
At the
mention of the dollars that had been “invested” with Garreth Monroe, Nadine’s mother dropped her fork. The subject was touchy and a topic that was usually avoided during the dinner hour.
“It didn’t help much when my basketball scholarship ran out,” Kevin pointed out, and George bristled slightly.
He turned his attention to his ham and cut off a bite-size piece with a vengeance. “These things take time. The money’ll be there—it’s just a matter of being patient.”
“Some of us are tired of waiting,” Donna said.
“If you ask me, you’ll never see that money again. Old man Monroe will find a way to keep it for himself,” Kevin predicted.
“It’ll pay off.”
Nadine noticed a drizzle of sweat near her father’s temple.
“Monroe’s a bastard.”
Donna gasped. “Kevin!”
“I’ll hear no talk like that at my table,” their father ordered, and the dining room was suddenly silent. Deafeningly quiet. Aside from the drone of the anchorman from the television set in the living room, no one uttered a sound.
A piece of ham seemed to lodge in Nadine’s throat. She drank a long swallow from her water glass and met Ben’s worried gaze over the rim. Their animosity dissolved instantly and once again they were allies in the war that seemed to be growing daily within the family. A war, Nadine was sure, in which no one would be a victor.
* * *
THE NEXT WEEK was the Fourth of July. In celebration, and because of the escalating fire danger in the woods due to dry summer conditions, Fitzpatrick Logging Company and Monroe Sawmill Company were closed. The entire town was on vacation. A fever of excitement swept through the streets of Gold Creek in preparation for a parade led by the mayor, a city-wide barbecue put on by the churches and a dance held in the park.
In addition, the Monroe Sawmill Company picnic was slated for that weekend in the county park on the west shore of Whitefire Lake.
Long before she’d met Hayden, Nadine had planned to spend most of the weekend with Sam. Now, as the celebration approached, she couldn’t find any enthusiasm for being with Sam. He was nice enough and he cared about her, but…if she were honest with herself, she knew she’d rather spend her free time with Hayden. Silly girl!
The day of the city barbecue dawned sultry. Thick, gray clouds huddled in the western sky and the air didn’t seem to move. The house felt a hundred degrees as Donna baked three strawberry-rhubarb pies to take to the potluck dinner.
Nadine rode into town with her parents, watched the parade, then walked to the park where red, white and blue streamers had been tied around the trunks of the largest trees. Balloons filled with helium floated skyward, while children ran and laughed and adults set up the tables covered with butcher paper. Under a canopy, several women set out platters of corn on the cob, green beans, salads, Jell-O molds and every imaginable cake and pie. Men, sweating and laughing, stood barbecuing chicken and ribs.
There was a festive feel in the atmosphere, and even Nadine, glum because she’d agreed to meet Sam, was caught in the good mood. There was a chance that she would see Hayden at the picnic. She helped her mother serve desserts and watched as children ran in gunnysack and three-legged races. Some adults were caught up in a softball game and most of the teenagers were playing volleyball or sunbathing.
Nadine couldn’t help scanning the crowd, searching for Hayden. Though she’d agreed to help pour soda into paper cups, her gaze strayed from her task so often that her hands were sticky near the end of her shift.
Sam showed up in the late afternoon. With a group of boys from school, he approached the soda station and suggested that Nadine find someone to take over her job.
“Can’t. I promised that I’d work until seven,” she said. “Unless you want to finish my shift and spend the next couple of hours pouring soda.”
“Very funny,” Sam replied, though he didn’t smile.
“This is important to Mom. The proceeds go to the library book fund.”
“Big deal.”
She felt more than slightly irritated by his attitude. “It is if you’re the part-time librarian.”
“I suppose.” Sam ordered a Coke, then hung around the booth’s window while she continued to work. He even helped out when the dinner crowd showed up, but still she resented him. Ever since she’d been with Hayden, her interest in Sam had waned. She still liked him; he’d been her friend for years, but she knew she’d never tingle in anticipation when she saw him, would never feel the powerful surge of emotions that seemed to explode in her every time she looked into Hayden’s eyes.
At seven o’clock, she was finally relieved by Thelma Surrett and her fifteen-year-old daughter, Carlie. Thelma worked as a waitress at the ice-cream counter of the Rexall Drugstore and Carlie was a couple of years behind Nadine in school. With raven black hair, round blue eyes and high cheekbones, Carlie was drop-dead gorgeous and had already attracted a lot of male attention. Even Kevin, who was twenty-two, had noticed her.
Nadine quickly showed them the cash box, how to change soda canisters and the portable cupboard in which the extra paper cups were stashed. She offered to work longer and help out, but Thelma waved her aside. “I’ve spent half my life serving these folks down at the store. I figure Carlie and I can handle a few cups of root beer. You two go on along.” She shooed Nadine out of the booth. “Have some fun. Dance.”
Sam didn’t need any encouragement. Grabbing Nadine’s hand, he headed toward the stage where a group of local musicians were tuning up and one of the technicians was trying to eliminate the feedback that screeched from the microphone.
She had no choice but to dance with Sam. She had promised that she’d be with him for all of the celebration, yet she wasn’t comfortable in his arms, had trouble laughing at his jokes, avoided his lips when he tried to kiss her.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked as he held her close and swayed to the band’s rendition of “Yesterday.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she lied, knowing that Hayden Monroe was at the heart of her discontent.
“Sure.” He tried to pull her closer and rather than argue, she let him fold her into a tight embrace. How could she explain that she was falling for another boy—a boy she barely knew, a boy who would probably never look her way again? She closed her eyes and remembered the kisses she and Hayden had shared, the feel of his skin, the way his touch could turn her bones to water….
“That’s more like it,” Sam whispered against her ear. He kissed her temple and Nadine tensed. She felt like a Judas, dancing with him, holding him when her heart was far away with Hayden Monroe.
As the song ended, she disentangled herself and made an excuse about needing to go to the bathroom. Sam found his friends and she hurried off toward the restrooms, intending to splash cold water on her face and find a way to tell Sam that she wasn’t interested in him romantically.
“Having a good time?”
Hayden’s voice stopped her short. She whirled, hardly daring to breathe and found him in the thickening shadows, lounging against the rough trunk of a massive cedar tree.
“I’m trying to.”
“That your boyfriend?” He cocked his head in Sam’s direction, where, along with a few of his friends, Sam was adding to his soda from a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag.
“He’s…he’s just a friend.”
“Looked like more than that to me.”
“You were spying on me?”
His teeth showed white in the coming darkness. “Just happened to see you.” He stepped out of the shadows, and Nadine’s heart lurched at the sight of him—his smooth, disjointed walk, his thick dark hair and blade-thin mouth. His eyes, midnight blue in the gloaming, held hers and the night seemed to close around them. Laughter, music and conversation grew suddenly distant, and the air, still and muggy, became thick
. When his gaze shifted to her neck, she knew he could see the tempo of her heartbeat at the base of her throat.
“I’m surprised you’re here,” she said.
“Command performance.”
“Who commanded?”
“The king.” When she didn’t smile, he explained, “You called me the prince. That would make my father—”
“The king,” she said.
“So now I’ve done my duty.”
Her heart dropped. “And now you’re leaving.”
Smoldering blue eyes held hers. “Want to come along?”
“And go where?”
“Does it matter?”
No! her heart silently screamed, but she knew she couldn’t just take off. Not without an explanation to her parents and to Sam. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” He cocked his head toward the group of boys huddled in the parking lot. “Your boyfriend disapprove?”
“I already told you he’s not—” He took hold of her shoulders, pulled her impatiently against him and cut off her explanation with a kiss. Hot and supple, hungry and anxious, his lips molded firmly over hers.
She didn’t protest, but sagged against him, her arms encircling his neck. She drank in the smell and taste of him, felt the sweet wet pressure of his tongue as it insistently prodded her teeth apart and explored the dark inner reaches of her mouth.
When he dragged her deeper into the foliage, she followed willingly, her lips still pressed to his, her body beginning to respond in wanton, lusty abandon. His hands spanned her waist, and his lips claimed hers with such passion that her head spun and her body began to ache.
When one hand moved upward to cup her breast, she sighed into his mouth. His thumb brushed in eager circles over her nipples and her bra was suddenly far too tight. He slipped his fingers beneath the hem of her blouse, upward until he touched the webbing of lace that covered her breasts. Groaning, he pushed her back against a tree and she sagged as his fingers probed and plundered, massaged and sculpted the shape of her breast until she felt as if she were on fire. The ache between her thighs began to pulse.
