by Violet Paige
I threw the sand paper down and took one of the beers. “Thanks.”
“So, you opened the barn back up. Does that mean anything?” he asked, taking a seat on one of the empty sawhorses. His feet shuffled over wood shavings that littered the barn floor.
“No.” I chugged. “Means I needed to sand this juniper.”
“Right. Right. So it has nothing to do with a certain blonde who is leaving the island?”
My eyes shot to his. “What are you talking about?”
“I ran into Shirley when I bought the beer. She said Sierra has to head back to Texas in a couple of days. Something about work. You didn’t know?”
“Huh. No, I hadn’t heard. Good for her.”
“Man, really?”
“What the fuck do you want me to do? She doesn’t want to stay. Some people leave and come back. Some don’t.”
“And you’re giving up on her? She came back, man. She’s trying to do the right thing.”
I tipped the cold bottle to my lips. “The right thing? She was forced to come back here. Don’t cut her any slack. She’s here because she has to be.”
Cole shook his head. “I knew her in high school too. Don’t forget that.”
“And you were here when she left.”
“I was. But she was a kid. We all were. You seriously going to hold a grudge like that?”
“No. I don’t give a shit what she does.”
“You’re not going to call her?” Cole grilled me. “Because that’s what this is all about. The sanding, opening the barn, the pissy mood—it’s Sierra.”
I shook my head. “Nah, it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have taken her out to the Dock House or the Cape. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking opening up that shit back up with her.”
I kept my head down and focused on smoothing out each bump in the plank’s grain. Sanding was good. It kept me from thinking. But Cole was pushing hard to make me face things about Sierra I didn’t want to admit.
“Ok, ok. I’m just trying to help you out. Seems like you’re making a mistake from where I stand.”
“Stay out of it, Cole. It’s complicated.” I groaned.
Cole threw his hands in the air and took a step backward. “I’m out. You do what you’re going do.”
“Thanks. I think I can handle Sierra.”
He turned before he walked out of the doors. “For the record, it’s good to see the lights on in here again.”
I did my best impression of a smile. “Thanks, man.”
“You bet.”
I wiped my forehead with the back of my wrist and tossed the sandpaper in the open trash can. I had already gone through two sheets on just a few boards. They were rubbed raw. And underneath it all I felt the same way. Raw. Open. Staring pain and grief in the face under the dark cloak of uncertainty.
Sierra. Fuck. What was I going to do about that girl? The vein along the side of my neck pulsed with anger. Why should I be surprised she was running so soon? Wasn’t that what she did? She’d left at the most painful time in my life. Right as my parents sat me down and told me my mother had only months to live.
And where was the girl who loved me? The one who had my back? The one who pushed me toward my dreams? She had vanished like foam on the beach. Washed out like a cold wave on a December beach.
And that’s what she would do again. Leave.
But for fake’s sake, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, or about what had happened in that cove on the beach. She was infuriating, stubborn, quick-tempered, argumentative, and temporary. Had always been—I just didn’t know it back then.
I picked up another prickly sheet of unused paper and laid it rough side down on the next board.
I had plenty of experience with summer flings. At twenty-six, I had spent my share of summers fucking vacationing girls at the beach and I knew the drill. Someone always got too attached, no matter what the upfront agreement was. And it was never me. The last time I’d even thought about feeling something toward a woman ended the day she drove over the bridge.
I sanded deeper and longer strides into the plank. This was the way it had to be.
Thrashers groupies followed me to every city. They waited for me in hotel lobbies and outside of the locker room. And hell, they were smart women. Beautiful women. Women who would have done anything to make me happy. And for night I let them. But that’s all I could give them—one night.
There was no reason to get involved with her further. She had called me out on the revenge sex, and I’d managed to stay away for a few days. Our trip down memory lane was over.
Flashes of her long legs crept into my mind. Those lips, and the way she dug her nails into my back. The way she purred under my touch and leaned into my body every time I got close. That innocent look she still had. The good girl image with bright blue eyes that screamed a purity so damn alluring I wanted another look. Another touch. Another taste of the girl I had made mine all those years ago. Because when it came down to it, she had been mine. She was mine first. She had been untouched and naïve. She’d needed me. She’d depended on me. And I’d protected her as if she were a treasure. My treasure.
Oh hell, what am I doing? I tossed the paper on the floor and grabbed me keys. There was a hot-tempered blonde I needed to see.
17
Sierra
There wasn’t much else I could do. I realized I had to accept defeat. I may never finish clearing out the house or sell it. Maybe I should call one of those estate companies and have them liquidate everything for me.
The thought of having complete strangers go through Aunt Lindy’s personal items didn’t feel right. I couldn’t do that to her.
I may have let her down the last few years of her life, but I didn’t have to let her down in death.
My shoulders sank as I stared into the bottom of my glass of wine. I sat on the back porch, watching boats cruise past.
I wondered how many times she had done this before she’d died. Sat in this exact wicker rocker and watched life sail by. I took another sip and reached for the chilled bottle next to me.
It was the kind of sunset I was going to drink through. I didn’t see any other way.
I heard the familiar sound of tires on gravel and looked up when Blake’s truck rolled into view.
I hadn’t seen him in a few days. I thought it was for the best. Things had gotten too messy. Too complicated. Too hard.
“Thought you’d already have your suitcase on the porch,” he barked, walking toward me, taking huge strides.
“Hi to you too,” I sassed.
But my chest tightened when I saw him. His T-shirt clung to his chest and it was hard to look away from the sculpted lines of his arms. Damn it. Why did he always have to be so hot?
“So you’re just going to run away again?” he accused. There was fire in his eyes.
He stood six inches from me and I could feel the heat radiating from his glare. It poured off his body in ripples of fevered anger.
I made the mistake of looking up.
“How did you know I was leaving?”
“Just answer me. Are you taking off and selling Lindy’s house?”
I placed the wine glass down and rose to meet him. “What difference does it make to you?”
“Because I actually give a shit about this island. I care if developers come in and get ahold of this property. I know you don’t. You can’t get out of here fast enough.”
My hands flew to my hips. “I don’t get how you can pretend to know so much about my motivations.”
He snorted. “Baby, I know every play you’ve ever made.”
My spine tingled. A shiver ran from one shoulder to the other. He had no idea what he was talking about. And I was just tipsy enough to tell him to get the hell of my porch.
“If you’re done lecturing me about the sanctity of the island, you can go. I don’t need this.”
“I’ll pay you for it.”
“What?” My eyes almost reeled back in my head
.
“What do you want for the house? I’ll pay you cash.”
I shook my head. “You are not buying Aunt Lindy’s house.”
“Why not? You sure as hell don’t want it. You’ll take any excuse to get off this piece of sand.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? Isn’t that what you did eight years ago?” His eyes bored into mine. “You ran. You took off. Let everyone down. And you never looked back. Don’t pretend you give a fuck now. I’ll buy the house and then we can make sure we never run into each other again. Deal?”
“Stop. Just stop it, Blake.”
“Why? Did I push you too hard toward the truth?” His lips formed a snarl.
The wine whirled through my empty stomach. “You want to know what happened? Is that what you want?” I baited him, when I knew I shouldn’t. But I was on a roll and couldn’t stop myself.
He chuckled. “I know exactly what happened. But sure, tell me.”
He mocked me. He belittled me. He pushed me to the edge and I came out swinging.
“I was pregnant, Blake. I was pregnant with your baby.” The words slipped from my lips and the porch was suddenly quiet. The only thing I could hear was my heart beating so loudly it filled my ears with the sounds of thumping blood.
“That’s a lie.”
I hung my head. One tear slipped and then another. I fell into the rocker. Eight years of hidden secrets and anguish came pouring out. Eight years of lies. Eight years of loneliness. The humiliation and the fear pooled in my stomach. I was twisted in knots of anguished emotion.
“It’s not a lie. It’s what happened. I was pregnant. We were going to have a baby.” My soft words lingered between us. “I left the island pregnant, Blake.”
I looked up into his gray-blue eyes. They were cloudy like the sea when rain washes over the waves.
“Sierra.” He dropped to his knees.
18
Blake
“Tell me. Tell me now,” I growled. My lungs pushed into my ribs, searching for room to breathe.
“It was right before we were supposed to leave for Saints College” She sniffed. “I took a test. Emily was there.”
“Emily? Emily Cornwell?”
She nodded. “That was back when we were inseparable. She knows the whole story. But that’s not really the point.” Sierra breathed heavily. “As soon as I knew it was positive I stuck it in a bag and drove over to your house. But you weren’t there.” She looked up at me, with tear-filled eyes. “Your dad was.”
“My dad?” I didn’t get it.
“He saw the test. He found out I was pregnant.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not possible.”
“He threatened me. He told me I had to leave and never talk to you again. He didn’t want the baby to ruin your college career or your AFA chances before you even started school.”
“No,” I growled louder this time. “Dad wouldn’t do that. Nothing meant more to him than family. Nothing.”
She nodded against my protest. “Somewhere in his heart I believe he thought he was doing what he had to do to protect you and your mom. At least that’s what I’ve told myself.”
“How? How did he force you to leave? I want to hear it.” I gritted my teeth.
“He threatened to tell you it was someone else’s baby. He threatened to ruin me. I didn’t have a choice. I packed up and left.” She picked up the glass of wine and finished it off. “I didn’t want to leave, but what did I know? I was eighteen and pregnant. He scared me to death. So much that I listened to him.” Her eyes misted and the blue shook my soul. “I never should have done it. I shouldn’t have listened to him.”
“But you did.” The words fell as the defeat sank into my shoulders. What in the hell had my father done?
“Your mom was so sick.” She wiped her tears. “And I didn’t want to make that worse. She needed you. You needed her. I would have pulled you away from her last days. I knew that even back then. I knew I was going to rob you of time with her. Precious time you wouldn’t get back.”
“You didn’t think I was a strong enough man to figure it out on my own?”
“I’ve always thought you were strong. You were the strength I needed every day in my life. It was never that I thought you weren’t strong enough.” She covered her face with her hands. “It was because I wasn’t strong enough.”
“Where’s the baby Sierra? What happened to the baby?” I felt a desperate instinct kick in. Maybe that should have been my first question. Where was my child?
“It wasn’t ever going to be a baby. The pregnancy was ectopic. I miscarried two months after I left.”
“Shit.” My mouth hung open.
“By then I didn’t think I could come back. I had already ruined everything. And I couldn’t tell you I had lost the baby. I just couldn’t.”
“I could have handled it.”
“Really?” she questioned. “Your mom was gone. You were grieving and I didn’t want to ruin the happiness you had in your life. You deserved those. You were already headed to the conference championships. You were rookie of the year. You had a new girlfriend.” Her eyes hardened. “I didn’t have a place in your life anymore.”
“She wasn’t a girlfriend. And it wasn’t a happy time.” I ran my hands through my hair. “This is fucking unbelievable.”
I rose from the floor and paced the edge of the porch. I felt like a caged tiger. There was nowhere to go. And even though I felt restless, I felt like I couldn’t leave her. Not after she had just told me she was going to have my baby all of those years ago.
“I know. I know it is. And I’m sorry, Blake. I should have been stronger back then, but I wasn’t. You were my life. My everything. I didn’t know what to do without you. And I didn’t have the courage to stand up to your dad. Not without you I couldn’t.”
My hand rested on the railing and I looked at her.
“All these years I’ve been angry as hell at you.”
“I know you have.”
“So angry, I wanted every trace of you gone. Every memory. Every song. Every movie. Every joke we laughed about. And you know how I did it?”
She shook her head slowly.
“I fucked every woman I met. I fucked them so you wouldn’t be in here anymore.” I pounded my chest. “I threw everything I had into football. And I became the best. The absolute best.” I clenched my jaw. “So I guess I should thank you for that, Sierra.” The bitterness in my voice was palpable. I didn’t know if I was angrier before she told me or now.
“Blake…”
“Don’t,” I growled. “Don’t you dare give me your fucking pity.” I glared at her. “I got over you. And some story about a baby that doesn’t exist doesn’t bring that all back.”
Her slender frame extended from the chair and she walked toward me. Graceful. Beautiful. Sexy.
“It doesn’t have to bring anything back.”
Her hand touched my arm, singeing my skin with heat.
“But the secrets are gone. The lies are out,” she whispered. “This is who we are now.” Her hand moved up my arm.
“I can’t go back to who I used to be,” I warned her.
“I don’t want you to,” she whispered. “I want to know this version of you. I want to know the man you are.
“Every time we get close again I hold back. I’ve been afraid you would find out the truth. And now that I know about your dad…” Her words drifted off.
“You were that scared of him?” I questioned.
She nodded. “He was your father, and I know you’re in pain dealing with his death, but he terrified me.”
“You never should have felt threatened. Never.”
My hands balled into fists by my side. The need to hold her and protect her against the injustice consumed me. I didn’t care if it was my father or a stranger—she never should have faced that fear alone.
“Blake, can you forgive me? Can you try to understand why I kept the secret?”
<
br /> “I get it when you were eighteen, but why didn’t you say something sooner? Why did you wait until today? Why now? You could have tracked me down. You could have tried, damn it.”
“It seemed too late. I didn’t want to live in the past. I didn’t want to relive the pain, honestly. Knowing what we could have had.” She bit her lip. “It haunts me every day. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I hate what happened. I hate you were scared. I hate you were alone.”
She locked her gaze on me. “But do you hate me?”
“God, no. I don’t hate you.”
And I lost it. I lost the reasons I was angry, or the reasons I wasn’t. I didn’t care about the house, or the fact that she was leaving. I didn’t care she had left. And that if she had to do it all again, she’d probably make the same decision. I didn’t care about any of that shit right now. All I cared about was taking her to bed. Taking her in my arms. And drowning in her.
19
Sierra
Blake’s mouth pressed against mine and his hands tangled through my hair. I sighed when his tongue coiled inside my mouth. His body towered over mine, pinning me with his strength. I melted into his arms as the kiss grew wilder.
We were on fire. Desperate to erase the pain. Determined to discover everything that was new between us.
He picked me up easily and I wrapped my legs around his waist.
The door squeaked as he pried it open and carried me inside. I don’t know why I thought we’d make it up the stairs. Blake didn’t walk past the couch.
He lowered me to the sofa as he started peeling the clothes from my body. His hands were everywhere, tugging and tearing.
I looked into his eyes when I was down to my bra and panties. Panties that were soaking wet.
“Fuck, Sierra.”
I moaned. I could barely breathe.
He dropped to his knees, separating my legs. His thumb pressed into my thigh, running toward my center. He slipped past the fabric and made a rough circle over my clit.
