Sex on the Beach (Southern Comfort Book 2)

by Melanie Shawn

  I was just heading to the front door when there was a knock on it.

  If Bella was behind door number one, I might have to be late. I opened the door and saw a beautiful woman, just not the one that got my heart racing. Reece Torres wore a slinky baby blue floral mini dress that hit her just above mid-thigh, showcasing her toned and tanned legs. Her silky, chestnut brown hair hung down to her waist, which was pinched as if God had blessed her DNA with an all-natural corset. Her light green eyes surrounded by dark, thick lashes and fair skin popped as she looked up at me with a private smile that had always gotten my engine running.

  Reece and I had been hooking up on and off for years. She was a sports reporter who was always out of town following teams, but every time she was in town, we got together.

  It had been perfect. She was hot. I could carry on a conversation with her, but we both knew what this was. No strings. No commitments. No complications.

  Hell, half the time we hooked up, I’d read that she was in a relationship with a triple-A player or a rookie NFL recruit. We never asked questions. We just enjoyed each other’s company for twenty-four to forty-eight hours every six to eight months and left it at that.

  This was just what the doctor ordered. So why wasn’t I the slightest bit interested in spending the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours with her? I usually used a term of endearment when referring to her, especially when she showed up on my doorstep wearing a slinky number with that look on her face. But I just couldn’t bring myself to call her sweetie, baby, or sexy. “Hey, stranger.”

  “Hi.” Her secret smile dropped with her eyes when she saw the keys in my hand. “Goin’ somewhere?”

  “Yep. Family meeting.”

  “Oh.” She was my brother Billy’s age and had grown up with us, so she knew the significance of what those words meant. “Are you busy tonight?”

  No, I wasn’t. But for some reason, I didn’t want to disclose that. Still, I didn’t want to lie to her.

  “Nope.” I stepped out and shut the door, locking it behind me.

  When I turned I could see in her face that my reaction to her was puzzling. She could join the club on that one. I was baffled as fuck.

  “I can come back around seven? Bring take-out?”

  The devil on my right shoulder was fighting with the angel on my left. The haloed one was telling me to decline her generous offer, the horned one was insisting that I accept. If I did as the winged cherub suggested, my evening would be spent alone, with Sherlock, thinking of one thing and one thing only: Bella. If I went along with the red-tailed demon I’d be spending the night erasing all memories of Bella.

  “Yeah, maybe.” My non-committal comment didn’t escape Reece’s attention.

  Her brows drew together. “Everything okay?”

  “Yep.”

  “I heard about your dad. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.” I sighed as we walked down my front steps.

  She thought I was being this way because of Pop, and I figured, what was the harm in lettin’ her believe that.

  She waved as she got into her silver convertible Camaro. I waved back, not sure if she’d return later that night and not sure if I even wanted her to.

  The ride over to the bar was a short one. I’d normally walk, but that would give me more time to think. And since I had a one-track mind, I decided it would be healthiest to try and limit my brain’s alone time. I pulled into the parking lot and hoped this family meeting would snap me out of my funk. It was a tall order, one that even the promise of twenty-four hours of hot, no-strings sex was not able to fill.

  The door of Southern Comfort hadn’t even shut behind me when Billy called out from behind the bar, “Heard Reece is back in town.”

  Hank, who was seated at a high top looking at his phone, lifted his head.

  Sometimes this town really was too damn small. “Yeah.”

  “Heard she stopped by your place,” Billy continued. “I thought ya might be late.”

  I could see that Billy was judging my reaction. He obviously wanted to know if I’d entertained Reece or if I’d turned her down because that would tell him how serious I was about Bella. He was fishing, and I didn’t feel like taking the bait.

  “Nah, family meetings always come first.”

  His eyes stayed trained on me as Cheyenne entered behind me. I was relieved at her arrival because it meant the interrogation portion of the meeting was over. I didn’t want to talk about Reece, or Bella, or anything that had to do with my personal life.

  “Hey, sis.” I gave her a quick hug and immediately sensed the tension rolling off of her. “You okay?”

  “I got the results back.” She lifted up a large manila envelope I hadn’t noticed she was holding. “I haven’t looked at them yet.”

  When Cheyenne had asked for my DNA to help her settle her paternity questions, my first instinct had been to say no. I hadn’t wanted to do anything that would contribute to her feeling like she was less a part of this family than she was. But then I considered how I would feel if I wasn’t sure who my daddy was and I decided that it was up to her what she wanted to find out.

  Hank stood. Billy came out from behind the bar and my brothers walked over to join us.

  “Um…” Her hands shook as she opened the envelope.

  “Do you want me to get that, Shadow?” Billy’s voice dripped with concern.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’ll do it.”

  She removed the papers and my brothers and I all exchanged looks. I was crossing my fingers, toes, and eyes that the results would come back sayin’ that James Comfort was Cheyenne’s daddy, but when I saw her bottom lip begin to quiver I suspected that wasn’t the case.

  “He’s not my dad,” she whispered as her arm dropped.

  Billy pulled her into a hug at the same time Hank reached out and grabbed the paperwork. I watched as my eldest brother read the results and I saw his jaw tense. I could see the pain and anger behind his eyes. It was obviously not just a betrayal to Cheyenne, it was a betrayal to him.

  From the pictures I’d seen and drunken stories Pop would tell me, Hank and our mama were real close. Pop used to say that Hank and Mama were two peas in a pod. I could see that he was definitely having some feelings about Cheyenne’s paternity, but I doubted he’d ever say what they were.

  Without saying one word, Hank set the papers down and walked out of the bar.

  “So what are you going to do?” Billy asked as Cheyenne sniffed and stepped back.

  “I don’t know.” Our sister bit her bottom lip. “I just need to think about it.”

  If there were a possibility that Jennings Abernathy was my father, I wouldn’t be sure I’d want to know either. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know if he was my sister’s father. But I guess the truth was the truth. It usually came to light. I was actually surprised that this had stayed a secret as long as it had.

  Billy took out a bottle of Jameson and poured three shots. Without saying a word, we each picked one up and knocked it back.

  Cheyenne grimaced as she set the glass back down. “Should someone check on Hank?”

  “No!” Billy and I both shouted at the same time.

  Her eyes widened and then, for some reason, we all started laughing. And laughing.

  I didn’t know if Cheyenne was ever going to find out who her real father was. I wasn’t sure how Hank was going to process the news that our sister was a half-sister. And I had no idea if I was ever going to see Bella again. But I knew that I had my family. And that was enough. It wasn’t everything I wanted, but it was enough.

  CHAPTER 28

  Isabella

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started to type, but then erased the words and put the device back in my purse. I’d written and deleted a half dozen texts in the last ten minutes on my walk to Jimmy’s house.

  Mrs. B had told me where he lived and, somehow, she’d convinced me that I should show up unannounced. She’d said that it was romantic
, but I was starting to think that taking advice from a woman that took pride in never having been in love might not be the best idea.

  What if Jimmy didn’t want to see me?

  What if he wasn’t home?

  Or worse, what if he’s home and has company?

  I turned onto his street and, for some reason, my feet were still taking me toward his home. They were moving forward, one after the other. My heart skipped when I saw his truck parked in front of the house that Mrs. B had described.

  It was a white clapboard beach cottage, similar to the other cottages on the street, except his had a bright yellow door and black shutters. I’d never really given much thought to someone’s home being a reflection of their personality, but Jimmy’s house suited him. It was cozy, yet it stood out as individual from the other homes that surrounded it.

  Even the landscaping fit him. It was well maintained but not overly manicured. It made me smile thinking about him coming home from the docks to this place.

  My palms began to sweat the closer I got. Panic rose in me when I was a mere two steps away from his front walk. If my brain didn’t intervene and halt my progress, I’d be on his doorstep in about ten seconds. I could text him now, but that seemed like it would defeat the purpose.

  My new lease on life had given me spurts of confidence boosts, but unfortunately, I didn’t seem to be able to access it any time I wanted.

  The leaves on the mature oak in the center of his front yard rustled overhead as I stood on the sidewalk contemplating my next move. Behind me, the sound of waves crashing against the sand reminded me that the beach was only a hundred yards from his front door. The atmosphere around me could not be more serene, peaceful, and calm. It was a stark contrast to the hurricane of emotions stirring inside of me.

  Fear being the main windstorm.

  What am I so scared of? I asked myself.

  I thought for a moment, and then, like a ton of bricks, it hit me. I knew why I was so nervous about going up to that door.

  Right now, everything with Jimmy had gone perfectly. Well, that might have been a stretch. He had been perfect. I could walk away from this and have the memories of our time together one hundred percent intact.

  For the rest of my life, however long that happened to be, I could pull up those untarnished moments and relive them any time I wanted. They’d be frozen in a time capsule, protected from anything that might destroy them.

  But If I went up to that door and told Jimmy the truth about my condition, and he didn’t take it well, or even just looked at me differently, that would forever taint our time together. I was risking him not being a perfect thing. The one perfect thing to come out of this.

  But if things went well, I would be gaining that one perfect thing, or at least more time with that one perfect thing.

  I weighed my options and decided to take a chance. If not now, when? If not Jimmy, who?

  Apparently, this decision made me very philosophical.

  The three wooden steps leading to his front porch creaked as I walked up them. For some reason, the sound added to my anxiety. I felt like it was giving an audible play by play to my inevitable rejection.

  When I got to the front door, I saw that it was open and the screen door was shut. I tried to look inside but I couldn’t see anything. So, I cupped my hand, lifted it and leaned forward peering inside. Still nothing. It was dark in the house, the only light coming from what looked like a hallway.

  It was now or never. Game time.

  Here goes nothing.

  I lifted my hand and knocked on the wood frame of the screen door.

  “Comin’,” he shouted and then I heard the sound of clicking nails on the floor and a deep bark.

  The next thing I knew, the screen flew open, I stepped back and was met with a face full of tongue—not from the man I’d come to see. This was of the canine variety.

  “Sherlock, no!” Jimmy shouted.

  I tried to move but large paws were on my shoulders keeping me in place as his tongue bathed my face.

  “I’m sorry!” Jimmy apologized as he pulled him off of me. “He never does that anymore. He used to when he was younger, but since he’s been an old man, he’s stopped.”

  “Well, it was quite a welcome.” I bent down to pet Sherlock’s head. “Hi, buddy. It’s nice to meet you. Oh my goodness, you are so handsome.”

  Sherlock sat panting, and I would’ve sworn that if dogs could smile, he was grinning from ear to ear. He looked very proud of himself for his antics. I was still scratching his head when he flapped it from side to side. Ears, jowls, and slobber went everywhere. My arms, shirt, and part of my cheek were coated with it.

  “Oh my gosh!” I gasped, jumping back.

  “I’m sorry,” Jimmy apologized again. “Let me put him out in the back. Come in.” He shot the last part over his shoulder as he pulled Sherlock through the house.

  I stepped inside, feeling bad that Sherlock was being punished for just being a dog. “He doesn’t have to go out.”

  “Yes, he does. He’s doing all that for attention and he’s not gonna stop.”

  I was wiping my cheek and arm when Jimmy returned with a damp dishtowel. “Here you go. Or you can go freshen up if you want. The bathroom is just down the hall.”

  “Yeah, that would be good.” I nodded.

  It wasn’t that the dishtowel wouldn’t have worked just fine, but I just wanted to take the opportunity to gather my thoughts, not to mention my nerve.

  Mrs. B was the only one I’d told about my condition. She’d told the mahjong girls, of course, but other than those ladies, I hadn’t talked about it with anyone.

  Jimmy led the way down a hallway with recessed lighting. From what I could see of his home, it was newly renovated. There were pictures that looked like they’d been taken from his boat, a few shots with groups of people at the bar, and one of a beautiful woman with long blonde hair, lying in a hammock holding a toddler on her lap. She was laughing as the baby pulled a floppy hat down over her face. The coloring on the print, as well as the style of the woman’s clothes, told me the photo was old. If it weren’t for that, though, I would have sworn it was Cheyenne. She looked exactly like her.

  “Is that…?”

  “That is my mama, Sabrina Comfort. And that handsome devil is me.”

  I grinned. “You were a cute baby. And she’s beautiful. And she looks just like Cheyenne.”

  “I know.” Jimmy stared wistfully at the photo. “I wish I remembered her.”

  This was one of those moments that I would have given anything to have had more well-developed social graces. I felt like most people would know what to say, but as for me…well, I had no idea.

  “It’s right through there.” Jimmy pointed to the door at the end of the hall.

  “Thank you.”

  I walked past him, and our arms brushed. The slight contact spread through me like a wildfire. By the time I shut the door my entire body was engulfed in arousal. One touch. That was all it took.

  The bathroom was small, but felt open and airy. And clean. Even though I’d been a basket case since I’d entered Jimmy’s home, I’d noticed that it was very tidy and, just like the exterior, it was cozy and well-kept. Not at all what I would expect a bachelor pad to be.

  After washing my still-shaking hands, I took a deep breath. I knew I was going to tell Jimmy what was going on with me, but I still didn’t know how I was going to do that. My awkwardness was really exacerbated by stress, so my state of near-panic definitely wasn’t going to help anything.

  The one thing I had going for me was that Jimmy had a way of putting me at ease. Not just me, either. Everyone. I hoped that his energy would be a calming balm to my anxiety.

  As tempting as it was to stay in the bathroom, I knew that I couldn’t do that. It wasn’t what you might call a forever solution. So I washed my hands, dried them, and forced myself to face what I had to do.

  When I came back out, I found Jimmy in a room around the corner f
rom the entryway. He was standing at a mini bar, his back to me. I took a moment to admire the strong planes of his shoulders, visible through his thin cotton T-shirt.

  Jimmy’s body was something I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of admiring. He looked just as good with clothes as he did without. Well, maybe not just as good, but real close.

  He turned and looked over his shoulder. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Something stronger?”

  I’d drunk more this week than I had in the last two years, but I figured why stop now? “Something stronger.”

  He gave a small nod and I watched him pour our drinks. My eyes zeroed in on his chiseled forearms. There was something so attractive, so sexy about them. The muscled lines, thick wrists…the single vein that popped out whenever he did anything strenuous. It all made one very sexy visual.

  “Would you like to sit down?” he asked as he handed me my drink.

  “Yeah, I think…yes, please.” I stopped myself before I started rambling.

  As I lowered onto the couch, I could feel my nerves amping up. I took a sip of the cocktail and was surprised at how smooth it went down.

  “Mmm, this is good. What is this?”

  He took a sip of his own, his eyes locked with mine. “It’s my take on a Sex on the Beach.”

  My lady parts spasmed at the memory of our night on the beach. I wasn’t sure if that was what he’d wanted to happen when he’d made it, but that’s what did.

  As images of our intimate cave experience filled my mind, I did my best to push them aside and concentrate on why I was there. I took another sip and set my glass down. “I’m not really sure where to start.”

  “Start anywhere ya like, darlin’. We can always circle back if ya miss something.” Jimmy smiled the same smile that he’d given me the first day down at the docks.

  And just like that, all the tension drained from my shoulders. There it was, the balm to my anxiety.

  I took a deep breath and just dove right into the one part of the talk I was dreading the most. “I don’t know when I’m going to die.”