Love Letters Volume 2: Duty to Please

by Emily Cale, Ginny Glass, Christina Thacher, Maggie Wells

  “Wait. This one is also pretty desolate. I think I’ve learned my lesson.” He put up his hands and backed away.

  “Trust me on this. Have I ever led you astray?”

  He gave her a sideways look.

  “Okay, besides earlier tonight, have I ever steered you in the wrong direction?” It amazed her how quickly she’d fallen back into their old routine. Despite not seeing him for so long, the conversation flowed and she found herself more and more at ease.

  “Fine, but this is your last chance.”

  She led him farther down the main strip to some of the booths on the outer edge of the festival. The tourists were fewer and farther between and she breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped up to one of the more modest stands. At least here there was less of a chance that someone might recognize her. This stand didn’t have any fancy decorations or gimmicks, just a wooden frame covered in several small green bottles. Exactly as it should be. The best things always came in the plainest packages. At least that was what her grandma had always told her. “Can I get two glasses of your best merlot?”

  “Sure thing.” A moment later, the man working the counter handed her two glasses in exchange for the bills she put down.

  Turning to walk toward Evan, she stared at his broad back, and her stomach flip-flopped. Until that moment she’d been able to push down her emotions and hide them behind the banter. But now the feelings she’d once had for him came rushing back. People said she’d never forget her first love, but she figured that was the sort of crap people said to be romantic or explain why they hadn’t moved on.

  Apparently no one had told her body it was only a saying. Her heart pounded as she tried to get a hold of herself. “Here you go.”

  He took the glass from her hand and eyed the contents. “You first.”

  She rolled her eyes but complied. After a small sip, she made a point of making a bunch of satisfied noises.

  “I’m not sure I believe you, but I only have one way of testing my theory.” He sniffed the glass thoroughly, then took a swig. “Okay, I don’t know what this is, but it definitely isn’t wine.”

  “You don’t like it?” Her shoulders fell. She could have sworn that this would be a winner.

  “No, I love it. That’s why it can’t be wine.”

  “It is. You just haven’t been drinking the right stuff.” A little part of her leaped for joy. She might be a little out of touch, but she still knew what he liked.

  “Well, I don’t know how they do it, but I like it.” He took a few more sips.

  “You have to savor it. Here, why don’t we go sit on the bench and you can catch me up on life around here.”

  Now she was really in trouble. Inviting him into an actual conversation. She knew exactly how those worked—eventually he’d stop talking and start asking the questions. Like why she’d ended up back here in the first place. When she’d left him, she’d made it clear she had no intention of ever returning. Funny the way things seemed to work out.

  They walked a few feet, then sat on one of the benches overlooking the water. She’d sworn up and down that splitting up was the best choice for both of them. He’d never had long-term potential. Evan was the perfect way to have fun and give the finger to everyone around her who thought she should be with someone more suited for the lifestyle they expected her to live. That sort of thing can only last so long, though. Once she was ready to move away, she’d known she needed to move on.

  “I don’t know if I’ll have much to say. I haven’t been back that long myself.”

  That took her by surprise. She’d always taken him for a lifer. The kind who ended up dying in the same hospital he was born in, never having lived anywhere more than a few blocks away. It’d been a life she’d worked to avoid. Everything she’d done in high school had been linked to her desire to get as far away as physically possible.

  Then again, she was sitting on the same bench she’d sat on a hundred times before, having just moved back into the same bedroom she’d had as a child. Her plans hadn’t been nearly as successful as she’d hoped. “What brought you back?”

  “The Coast Guard. I enlisted a couple years ago and then got assigned a post here a year later. It might not be glamorous, but it certainly has its perks. You should’ve seen the look on Sheriff Davidson’s face the first time he saw me in uniform. I swear he still hasn’t gotten used to it. He always looks at me like he’s waiting to figure out the punch line to the joke.”

  “You did blow up his patrol car.”

  “Allegedly. And it wasn’t like someone put a bomb in there. Just a few firecrackers under the driver’s seat.”

  She remembered the incident vividly. Everyone in town knew Evan was responsible, but no one could prove it. Well, no one who was willing to testify. The evidence that would put him away for the crime had been in her basement the whole time and she never said a word. In fact, some of it was probably still down there. “I see. And this whole Coast Guard thing, it’s working out for you?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “You don’t sound sure.”

  There was a long pause. One she remembered well. He’d never been fond of sharing his feelings with anyone. Especially her.

  “No, I am sure. It was the best thing that could’ve happened to me. The structure in my life has been a big help. Makes me feel like I’m actually doing something.” He paused again, as though he might continue, but changed the subject instead. “So what brings you back here? You left the day after graduation and never bothered to even check the rearview mirror. You certainly didn’t bother to visit.”

  Ouch. She should feel wounded, but Evan was right. She’d still be pretending she’d never even heard of this town if it weren’t for her dad. She’d never intended to stay away quite so long, but after breaking up with him, she couldn’t stand the idea of coming home and running into him. “Life.” Cryptic.

  She didn’t want his pity though. Finding out that the only reason she moved home was because her dad was slowly dying and unable to care for himself would bring about a string of platitudes she didn’t want from anyone. Especially him. The last thing she wanted out of this evening was to end up back in the same position she’d been in when she left. No more bad boys simply to prove a point. If she was going to be with someone, it needed to be a man who could support her and deal with all the ups and downs life was throwing her way. Evan Marshall did not meet those criteria.

  “Why don’t you tell me the local gossip?” She’d rather hear about other people than talk about herself.

  “I can’t really say much. For the most part, I’ve kept my nose out of it. People aren’t willing to say as much when they think you could get them in trouble for it. They don’t really get that I don’t have much authority on land.” He shrugged. “I guess I’ve been too busy to really care. I’m usually working, sleeping or hanging out with my family. My parents are a little too excited to have me back. I’m not sure they know I’m capable of making my own dinner.”

  She barely heard his words. He’d moved in closer to her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. To anyone passing by, they might look like two good friends, maybe even a couple. Perfectly comfortable with each other and the position they were in. Her body told a completely different story.

  “I’d rather hear more about what you’ve been doing. Do you have a job here?”

  “I’m a graphic designer for an advertising firm up in Seattle. They’re letting me telecommute since I really don’t need anything but a computer in order to work.”

  “That’s fantastic. I’m glad you continued your art. You always did such amazing paintings.”

  “Well, thanks. I’m not really that good, but I’m getting better.”

  “Of all the sins I’ve committed over the years, lying to you was never one of them. I mean every word of it.”

  She hoped the light from the setting sun was dim enough to hide the rising heat in her cheeks.

  “You know that one you painte
d me of the Bay Bridge?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s hanging in my room. I’ve taken it everywhere with me over the last few years. Always hang it where I can see it from my bed.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “Nope. In fact, it was a nice reminder of home during the harder parts of my training. I might not always have been able to hang it on the wall, but when I couldn’t have it with me, I could still close my eyes and picture it.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She’d received a lot of compliments over the years. Mostly from colleagues about the design work she did. There’d been the occasional award for her paintings at college exhibitions, but no award or praise lived up to the story he’d just told her. “I still think you’re full of it, but I’m not going to argue with you.” For a rebel, he could be awfully sweet.

  “About time you figured out how to deal with me.”

  She stared up at him. His face might be a little weathered, but she could still see the kindness. Except now everyone could see it. Not just the love-struck twelve-year-old who spent hours watching him. She leaned in gently and pressed her lips against his. The same way she had all those years ago. Except this time it lacked the innocence that came with youth. His hands slid up her neck and stopped at her cheeks, gently pulling her in closer. In the midst of it all, the simple kiss was enough, but barely enough, to quell the aching in her body. She wanted the moment to last forever, wanted to not have to deal with the ramifications or the awkward conversation that would follow. Then again, she wanted so much more from him. She wanted to hide under the dock like they used to and explore every inch of his skin, finding both the familiarity and surprises she knew were beneath his clothing.

  He pulled away, leaving her breathless and panting. Now she remembered exactly why she’d been so smitten with him.

  *

  That might not have gone the way he planned it. Okay, it didn’t even come close. All those times he’d imagined the way this moment would play out, and not once had it left him feeling so dazed. He immediately missed the touch of her skin against his.

  Yeah, he could blame it on the drink all he wanted, but the truth was that it was Ciara who drew him in and made him forget everything else in the world. She was still the same girl who’d been locked in a closet with him for seven minutes in middle school. Even then, he’d known she was something special, though it took him another two years from that fateful time to actually ask her out. In between, he’d been too much of a dipshit to make a move, deciding to sit on the sidelines hoping something better might come along. That was until he realized there wasn’t anyone better.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.” She put a hand over her mouth.

  “Don’t be sorry. I liked it.” He wanted to take her in his arms and do it again. That meant something more than two friends catching up, though. He had no right to walk into her life and try to be something to her again. They’d broken up for a reason. The same one that would keep them apart now. They weren’t on the same life path, never had been. Just two people who found themselves in the same place at the same time and had something in common.

  “We aren’t together, though, and I had no right.”

  “We aren’t together because we didn’t want to do the long-distance thing. We both had lives we were getting ready to live, and they didn’t look like they were going down the same path. Somehow we both ended up back here. Maybe it’s a sign.” He’d been devastated when they broke up, even if he’d agreed with every word she’d said. She was going to college three hundred miles away and he’d gotten a job working up in Portland. It wasn’t the ideal situation for two kids. She wanted to be free to chase after her dreams. It’d been the right move. For both of them. He knew that now, but the eighteen-year-old version of himself had been crushed to discover that life without Ciara simply wasn’t as much fun. Sure, he’d agreed to the arrangement, as much as he knew it would break him, and he’d also imagined there was something else out there waiting for him. If there was, he hadn’t found it.

  Joining the service was the best thing he’d ever done. It straightened him out and gave him a purpose in life. Now, here she was, the girl who couldn’t figure out how he might work into her life plan, kissing him again as though no time had passed.

  “The real question is whether you want to do it again?”

  She was hiding something though. Information about her life that she’d decided not to share. Ciara always kept secrets. He understood why she did it, but he needed to know if she was going to leave in another week. Losing her twice in one lifetime was more than he could handle.

  “Absolutely.” She leaned in. As much as he wanted to meet her touch, he needed an answer.

  He stopped her with a gentle touch to her shoulder. “Date.”

  “Oh.” She dropped her head.

  “We don’t really know each other as adults.” And you have yet to tell me anything about yourself. “Why are you here, Ciara? I’m doubting you took time off work so that you could come to the festival.”

  “I don’t want to talk it about.”

  “Well, then the way I see it, we have a problem. You have to give me something.” He could ask around if he wanted. The way news traveled, he sometimes thought other people knew things about him before they even happened. It might take a little longer, but eventually people would start to talk. If he showed up with a pitcher of sun tea, his neighbor would talk his ear off about the goings-on of everyone in town. He didn’t want to learn about it that way though.

  “I just—I’m not really ready to start telling people.”

  “Is there another guy?” He pulled away quickly. He might have developed a bit of a reputation with women in the past, but he never moved in on someone else’s territory.

  “No. I mean, there have been other guys, but none recently.”

  “Then your family?”

  She didn’t answer him. Her gaze shifted toward the sidewalk and he knew he’d hit the right topic. He also knew when to leave well enough alone. Her family had always been a little—quirky.

  “It would be nice to try the kissing again, though. It was pretty good.” She looked up and caught his eye.

  “Pretty good?”

  A little smile formed at the edge of her mouth. “Fine, it was amazing.”

  “I’ll show you amazing.” He leaned in and captured her lips. Ignoring the snickers of a couple teenagers who passed by, he took charge, running his fingers through her hair and moving his body as close to her as possible.

  “Get a room,” an onlooker yelled at them.

  She giggled. “I guess we might want to move on from here.”

  “Come on. I know a place.”

  “There are no open rooms in town. They’ve all been sold out for weeks,” she protested as he helped her to her feet.

  “I’ve got something better in mind.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her down the street.

  She stayed a single step behind him as he led her down the dock and onto the sand. The farther they went, the fewer people they passed. By the time they got down to the old shack on the far beach, they were the only souls in sight.

  Around the back side of the old lifeguard station, he pushed her up against the door and pressed his body against hers. He’d missed the way she fit him perfectly. As though their bodies were meant to be wrapped around one another.

  “Are you sure we aren’t going to get caught out here?” She looked around nervously.

  “The only person who ever drives their boat past here is the Coast Guard, and this isn’t on the target enforcement area list for tonight, so they will be far away. It’s just us out here.” Thank God for that. Ciara had always set off a spark in his body, but tonight she’d managed to ignite a fire.

  “Insider knowledge. I like it.”

  He ran his hands up her legs. When he reached the hem of her dress, he balled the fabric between his fingers and kept going. As it slid up over her hips and
then midsection, she gasped. The discovery of her new curves and smooth skin filled him with desire. What else had changed over the years? Would her thighs still tremble the same way, or would they be steady and unyielding? He couldn’t wait to find out. At eighteen, her body had just been taking shape, now it was perfectly sculpted and beautiful.

  She leaned in and kissed him again. Not a simple peck, but a full-on attack. Her tongue licked along the seam of his mouth and he gladly opened to her. He rubbed his erection along her thigh, anxious for more. The slow discovery would have to wait until after they’d had some time to burn off the passion. Then he’d happily spend hours rediscovering every inch of her.

  “I’d kill to have you naked here, but that might have to wait for another time.” Evan gasped for air and tried to maneuver her into a position that would allow him to have the best access to her body.

  “I think we can find a way for me to make it up to you.” She cocked her head to the side and he could practically see the wheels spinning in her head.

  “Really?” A million thoughts ran through his mind, each better and more erotic than the last. They’d been fumbling teenagers before, neither one sure of what they were supposed to be doing. He’d enjoyed it, but couldn’t wait for the opportunity to prove that he knew how to make a woman squirm. If he had his way, she’d come multiple times for him tonight. The shy reluctance to allow him to touch her had been replaced with a sexy eagerness.

  She raised an eyebrow and pushed him off her. Without fixing her dress, she knelt on the ground in front of him. He helped her undo the button and zipper on his shorts, allowing the loosened garment to drop down to his ankles. She stripped him of his boxers, and he ran his hands through her long hair. She hummed her approval as he continued to stroke her silky strands.

  “I think you’ve earned a reward for being a good sport this evening.” She ran a finger around the tip of his cock.

  “Oh, I have. I definitely have.” He didn’t need to wait long for his prize. She took his length in her hand and pulled it close to her mouth. Against the cool breeze coming off the bay, the warm breath from her mouth felt amazing. How long would she make him wait? Instead of immediately pulling him in, she waited, staring, not saying a word. Part of him wanted to ask if there was a problem, but he was afraid the answer might ruin the moment.