Using both hands, she shoved into his side, just under his ribs. “Am not!”
Travis’s deep laugh echoed across the driveway. “All right, all right. But it’s definitely hot when you get mad.”
He was relentless. Haven rolled her eyes and followed him up the stairs that led to the massive ten-bedroom house.
Ben greeted them at the front door. His blond hair was spiked perfectly. Haven wondered how much time he had spent studying hair gel techniques for men.
“Dude. Glad you made it.” Ben slapped Travis on the back.
“Wouldn’t miss it, but you know this one I had to drag here kicking and screaming.” He pointed at Haven.
“That’s not true, Ben. I love your parties.” Haven reached up to hug the host.
He didn’t seem fazed. They had all known each other since elementary school, some even longer. When you graduate with a senior class of thirty, you know people well. Haven didn’t think Ben cared one way or another if she made it to one of his summer parties. All he cared about was the minivan that had just pulled up with a load full of college girls.
“Excuse me. Girls are here.” He pushed past Haven and Travis to meet the blondes and brunettes in tight sundresses.
Travis laughed. “I guess I should go get us some drinks.”
Haven held up her finger. “One. One drink.”
“Ok, ok. Meet you on the deck.” He walked into the crowded living room, and Haven made her way to the ocean side deck.
At least she didn’t recognize anyone else. It would be a lot easier to escape after her one drink max, if none of the other Perry High classmates made an appearance.
Their high school class was evenly split: fifteen went to college like Haven, and the other fifteen stayed on the island and drifted into family businesses or took community college classes like Travis. It wasn’t that those fifteen weren’t college material, but there was a strong pull to stay on the island. Parents needed help running restaurants and fishing boats, and it was too expensive for most families. Haven knew she was lucky her parents had a year-round business, with year-round income that could fund her education. She also knew her four years of college came with strings, more like heavy metal chains.
In the far corner of the deck, the music wasn’t quite so loud, and she could hear the occasional wave crash on the shore. She leaned over the railing and looked at the pool below. Ben had turned on the iridescent lights. The water sparkled between a pink and purple hue. Tacky, she thought.
“Here you go.” Travis arrived with a full cup of something the bartender had whipped up.
“Thanks.” She took the cup and a timid sip. “Ben’s got the lights in the pool on a disco show or something.”
Travis peered over the side. “He’s such an asshole. Probably one of those girls in that pack will think there’s something cool about it.”
“If you don’t like him, why do you always come to these parties?” Coconut. Tonight’s concoction was a smooth coconut mix almost like a pina colada. She sipped again.
“Because, I get to see you and hang out with you—not in our store aprons.” He caught a strand of her hair that whipped the side of her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
It felt familiar. It felt sweet. “Trav, this isn’t going to happen.” She paused and looked into his dark brown eyes. “We—us—it’s not—”
He cupped the side of her face with his free hand, gazing intensely at her lips. It was hard to talk to him while he stared at her like that. Even harder with him so close and so warm.
“How’s your drink?” He moved so that there was just enough space to allow the cup to tip up and take a sip.
Haven watched his throat move with each swallow. She knew he was giving her both time to step aside and time to stand there and soak in the physical connection they had. Logic told her to stop right there. She and Travis didn’t have anything in common; they never would. How could they when their goals were so different?
He reached around her waist and slid his hand under her shirt so that it rested against the small of her back. Her eyes darted to his.
“Trav—”
“Shhh.” He placed his cup on the railing and pulled her against him.
His grip was strong, but she relaxed into him as his lips pressed against her mouth, hot and firm. Kissing him felt wrong, all kinds of I-shouldn’t-be-doing-this wrong, but maybe that was why she couldn’t stop doing it. She moaned as his tongue moved against hers.
He broke free to whisper in her ear, “Let me take you home. Now.”
Haven’s mind was screaming no, no, no. This was what happened the other night. This is what leads to confusion, hurt, and a ruined friendship.
“If you’re worried, I promise I won’t make a big deal about it.” Travis nipped the side of her neck. “Just tonight.” His fingers stroked the skin along her back. It felt good. The way Travis touched her always felt good.
Her resistance wasn’t as strong as she wanted it to be. He had two free hands, and while one kept her pressed against him, the other slid along her stomach and made its way below her shorts. Haven tried to press back, to break free, but as soon as she leaned into the hand holding her in place, he plunged his fingers between her legs.
“Oh, Trav. You can’t. We can’t—” Her head rocked back, giving him full access to her neck. He kissed the skin along her throat. His fingers teased the sweet spot until she was pressing deeper against him.
“Either you let me take you home, or I’ll make you come right here. And everyone will hear you.” He growled in her ear, sending more heat through her body.
God, she didn’t want him to stop, but she knew this was a big mistake. He dipped inside her again, filling her with more want than she was ready to handle. “Ok, ok,” she stammered breathlessly. “But it’s the last time.” Maybe this was what she needed. She could get it out of her system and stop having these moments with Travis. Moments that made her hot, wet, and beg for anything he would give her.
Abruptly, he shifted his fingers between her legs, grabbed her hand, and led her around to the steps on the side of the stairs. No reason to go back into the party crowd.
The red cup was still in her hand. She chugged the rest of the coconut drink and tossed it in the bushes. The Jordans’ gardener would probably find it in the morning.
Travis’s pace picked up as they neared the car. Haven knew he was worried she would change her mind. Somewhere in the back of her head, she kept waiting for her goodie-goodie self to emerge and tell him she was kidding and that the place he had touched between her legs had cooled off, but that girl never showed up. Not on the ride home, not when she fumbled with the keys to her door, not when he untied the knot on her halter, and not when she turned off the lights.
THE ALARM was sounding, but it wasn’t hers. She thought crickets were bad, but car horns in the morning were like nails on a chalkboard. Where was the sound coming from? And why was there an arm draped across her chest.
Haven sat straight up. Dammit. It had happened again. Well, not completely again, but enough. She ran her fingers through her hair. Those horns had to stop.
“Trav, Trav, can you turn off your alarm?” She shoved against his heavy frame. He slept hard.
“Aw, sorry.” He reached for the floor, and eventually the sound stopped. He rolled back to the center of the bed, pulling the sheet over his head and covering the wave tattoo on his shoulder blade.
“Thanks.” Haven looked at her phone. It was 4:45. He got up even earlier than she did. That must be how he always made it to the store first.
She watched as he fell back into a pattern of deep breathing. Things had really gotten out of control last night. She had almost had sex with him. As naked as they were, it seemed like they had, but no, it hadn’t actually happened. The crazy thing was that she wanted it. She craved him from somewhere deep in her core, but Travis said he wanted the first time to be special between them. Something about romance and candles. That was when she knew i
t had to be the last time. Every part of her body reacted to him except her heart, and that wasn’t fair. Last time, she swore.
Carefully, she maneuvered to the edge of the bed, slipping one foot to the floor and then the other. If she could make it to the shower before he woke up again, she could avoid the awkward naked thing. He was completely wrapped in the sheet, and they had kicked the comforter to the floor last night. It was a run-for-it kind of situation.
She waited for his next exhale, and then counted: one, two, three. As quickly as her tiptoes would carry her, she dashed to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
Haven sighed at her reflection in the mirror, and then picked up the timer on the counter. She turned the dial to seven minutes and reached for the shower handle. At least today she wouldn’t be late for work. That was a first.
THE POUNDING in his head become more focused until it felt like someone was piercing his temples with a knife.
“Son of a bitch.” Evan winced and slapped the side of his arm. The mosquitoes around here were as big as horseflies.
The campfire he had started last night was a pile of ash. Last night. Evan rubbed the corners of his forehead. He hadn’t that many beers in a long time. He kicked one of the remnants out of his way as he headed toward Silver Belle. One of Carly Stone’s new songs had played on the radio, and that was the last thing he remembered—cranking the music and getting lost in the words.
The bottle rolled. He wanted a shower first, and then he would be back out to clean up this mess. Harry and Shug had been clear about their tidy camp standards.
“Looks like you had a good time last night,” a sultry voice called from behind him.
Evan stopped and turned to look over his shoulder. He hadn’t noticed anyone else staying in the camper horseshoe, but he knew it was unlikely he would be the only resident all summer.
A woman with white blond hair stood a few yards from the front of his silver refuge. She smiled and smacked her gum.
The beer bottles littered what piece of land he could call his yard. Damn, he must have finished off the case.
“Good morning,” he offered the woman, keeping one hand on the door and hoping she would leave as quickly as she appeared.
“Good morning to you.” She bit hard on her bottom lip, and he saw her eyes rake him over like a piece of candy.
Why in the hell did he have to deal with this right now? He pulled the handle and stepped one bare foot into the camper. He had no interest in talking to a forty-something woman already in a bikini. It was barely daylight.
“See you around? I’m Charlotte. Staying in Pirate’s Booty right next door if you want to stop by some time.” She waved, only using the tips of her fingers.
“All right.” Evan closed the door behind him and let his head drop forward. He would end up next to the cougar on vacation trolling for her next young thing. He knew he was being rude, but some boundaries had to be established right away.
He snagged one of the remaining peaches he had from his road trip and bit into the juicy fruit. The only thing he had for dinner last night was a bag of corn chips and beer—an entire case of beer. Jake always said habits like that would catch up with him, but Evan didn’t care. The headache hurt like hell, but it was worth it. When was the last time he had listened to the music he wanted, drank what he wanted, ate what he wanted, and built as big of a fire as he wanted? The higher the flames, the colder the beer, the more he forgot.
He flipped open the mini-fridge. It reached the top of his waist, but had plenty of room for the summer bachelor. A smile spread across his face. There was one more cold beer with his name on it. He twisted off the top and chugged a few swallows.
The empty bottle landed in the trash can. He realized he had now spent his second night on the island in a less than comfortable sleeping position. The bed tucked at the rear of the trailer looked softer than a pile of feathers. He stripped his T-shirt from his frame, and threw himself chest down on the red and white checked quilt. Sleep—he needed more sleep. Within minutes, Silver Belle was filled with the sounds of a snoring movie star.
“MAMA, I’M fine.” Evan tried to soothe his worried mother. “I needed a break from work, that’s all.”
“Darlin’, if you’re in some kind of trouble, then just come on home.”
“I’m not in trouble. Everything is perfectly ok. It’s called a vacation.” The last time his mother sounded this worried was when he got caught skipping school. His parents had grounded him for a month after that.
“Evan, I don’t like to get involved with your Hollywood stuff.” He smiled. That’s how she always referred to his work. “But, I want to help you. Why don’t you come home and rest here? I can make all your favorites.”
“As tempting as that is, I don’t need mac and cheese right now as much as I need to clear my head.” He could picture her, hair pulled back in a clip sitting in front of the bay window with a cup of coffee in her hand and a frown on her face.
“It’s that girl, isn’t it? That’s what this is all about.” Her tone was sharp. “You know I don’t like to read those magazines, but her face was all over the stands at the checkout at the supermarket.”
Evan thought about how to answer that question. Of course Emmy was part of this, but not in the way his mother thought. It wasn’t heartbreak. It was humiliation and disappointment. One more failed relationship to add to a growing list for the world to tally up for him one neon headline at a time.
“Emmy’s moved on. I’ve moved on. I don’t really want to go into it right now.” The pictures of Emmy looking adoringly into some other guy’s eyes were still fresh. At least last night, with the help of some cold beer, he had forgotten about them.
“Ok, let’s talk about something else, then. Where are you? Is it nice?” Her east Texas accent accentuated the vowels in each of her words.
He gazed out the window as a pelican skimmed across the water. “Yep. It’s beautiful. You would like it.” He wondered if the set of pirates would be back later today to attack the sand dunes. He knew his mom would get a kick out of them. She frequently referred to her future grandchildren, but always followed it up with “no pressure here.” At twenty-eight he was in no rush to start a family.
“I bet I would. I’ve been trying to get your father to take me on a trip for months now, but he won’t leave. He says there’s no point in getting out of Texas. For once, I’d just like to take a vacation with him.”
Evan had invited his parents to his first awards show in Hollywood when his career began to skyrocket, but his mother wouldn’t travel without his father and his father wouldn’t leave Texas.
“Mama, why don’t you take a trip without him? Do something for yourself. I can arrange it for you.” He had offered on several occasions. He knew what her answer would be before the words were out of her mouth.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“I know, I know.” He shook his head. “All right, let me get goin’.” Eventually, this call would circle back to Emmy and his whereabouts. He had to cut her short. It was better for her sake if she didn’t know where he was, just in case Allan did call and try to pester it out of her.
“Love you, darlin’. Call me if you need to.”
“You too. I’ll call later in the week.” He usually tried to check in with her at least once a week. Those check-ins are what had prompted this call. He wanted to talk to her before Allan tried to reach her first.
“I’ll tell your father you said hello.” The words hung in the air.
“Ok, Mama, bye.” Evan left his phone on the table. His father wouldn’t return the sentiment. They hadn’t spoken on the phone unless it was because the proud Texan accidentally answered when Evan called.
Joe Carlson hadn’t quite gotten over the fact that his son turned down an opportunity to play professional football for a chance to chase imaginary bad guys and gorgeous women in pictures. It wasn’t that Evan didn’t love football, but at best he would be a second str
ing quarterback, more likely a tight end on a low budget team. It was the concussions that scared him more than anything. He had had three: one in high school and two in college. And he knew the ones coming from the pros would leave a much deeper impact.
At first, a local department store asked if he would model for them, next it was a national chain store, until somehow he wound up with an agent pitching him for small parts in action films.
He fell into acting as easily as he could read an oncoming blitz. He never knew he needed that creative outlet until he held the first script in his hands. There was something exhilarating about creating life in the words on a page. He took his roles seriously and approached each performance with intense focus.
He didn’t tell his father right away that he wasn’t entering the draft. He told his mother. They both knew she could soften the blow. The way she handled a crisis was impressive.
Evan wedged himself in the shower. He meant to ask Shug yesterday why the water turned off so quickly. He didn’t think the entire shower had lasted ten minutes. He made a mental note to stop by the office later today.
Sufficiently soaped and rinsed, he wrapped a towel around his waist. It was after one, and he wanted to head back into the village. As much as he enjoyed the junk food binge yesterday, he needed to make another store run and stock Silver Belle with some proper groceries.
He dove headfirst into a white T-shirt and pulled a pair of khaki shorts to his hip before fastening them. The new flip-flops felt funny between his toes, but when in Rome, he thought.
He grabbed the keys to his Jeep and slid his sunglasses on. The blaring sun hit him right between the eyes. Ibuprofen would be first on today’s list. He cranked the Jeep and turned toward the village.
IT DIDN’T bother her that on her one day off it was raining. Haven pulled her wrap a little tighter against her chest and repositioned a pillow behind her back. The ocean looked flat. The raindrops beat steadily against its waves, creating the illusion that it was calm. Haven knew it was anything but calm.
Finding Haven Page 4
