Paradise Cafe

by Adrienne Staff

  “Dammit,” he cursed, and sent his coffee spilling across the tabletop. “Doesn’t it ever rain down here?”

  Seven

  Saturday was a scorcher. And on Sunday you could have fried an egg on the sidewalk outside the Paradise Café, but neither Abby nor Jack was there to see it happen.

  Jack came banging on her screen door at six in the morning, making a racket that woke the dogs to barking all around the trailer park. On the lake behind him, a pair of herons rose up in wing-flapping alarm. And inside Abby’s narrow white trailer, Boots hissed in fright and raked twenty needle-thin tracks in the upholstery of her favorite chair.

  Abby flew to the door. “Who is it? What do you want?” she yelled, pulling it open the length of the metal chain. “Jack!” She slammed it shut to free it and threw the door wide open. “What the hell are you doing here, Gallagher? It’s predawn on my one day off! Are you crazy? I want to be sleeping—”

  “You can sleep in the car,” he said. Leaping up the steps, he took her in his arms and half-hugged, half-danced her back into the trailer. “Hurry up! Put on some little bathing suit, the skimpier the better. We’re going to the beach.”

  “On Sunday?” She groaned, lingering happily in his arms. “It’ll be mobbed. Why don’t we just stay here, lazy around, cook something up—” She grinned, then lifted herself on tiptoe to kiss his mouth.

  He kissed her back with playful fervor, but then spun her around and gave her an encouraging push toward the bedroom. “Promises, promises, darlin’. Nope! If we stay here you’ll sleep or work, as usual—and I’ve got other plans!”

  How do you argue with a man who won’t take no for an answer?

  In moments Jack’s Jeep was racing toward the still-dark sky over the Gulf Coast. Abby felt the last traces of sleepiness blow away on the warm, damp morning wind that tugged at her hair and flattened the thin cotton of her T-shirt against her breasts. “Life’s a Beach” was printed in a carefree scrawl across the front, and of course when she had first put it on over her bikini, Jack had had to trace it oh, so slowly with one fingertip.

  “Cut that out!” she had scolded between heated giggles.

  “I will not.” And before she could say another word, he had grabbed her close, tightened his fingers around a handful of curls, and slipped his tongue between her lips into the sweet, honeyed cave of her mouth.

  Remembering, she felt again the swift, powerful surge of arousal that sparked between her legs and spread through every inch of her body. Parts of her she hardly knew existed suddenly tingled and throbbed. If a kiss could do that, then they’d find bits and pieces of her exploded all over the Gulf Coast if this day was headed where she thought—no, hoped!—it was.

  “What are you grinning at, woman?” Jack asked, his slate-gray eyes glinting with amusement.

  “Nothing.” She laughed. “Just wondering where we’re headed.”

  “Clearwater Beach. Okay with you?”

  “Fine. Anything’s fine.”

  Jack gave her a cool, swift glance of suspicion.

  Such complaisance was unheard-of in Abby Clarke. But she sat there like an angel in the morning, the first rays of the sun lighting the pale cloud of her hair, outlining the narrowness of her shoulders, the perfect curve of her chin and cheek. Her eyes were even bluer than the morning sky, bluer than the rivers he ran, bluer than that lake in the desert.

  He tightened both hands on the wheel and prayed he could keep as good a grip on his desire. “Damn,” he muttered, battling the urge simply to pull off onto the side of the road, toss her into a pile of palmetto leaves, and love her to death. “Damn!”

  “What’s the matter?” Abby asked, putting a cool hand on his arm.

  “Nothing! Just talk to me for a while.”

  “Okay.” She gave him a funny little look, but shrugged. “Well, the Paradise had a great night last night. We had reservations for all but two tables, and a line—”

  “Nope, no talk about work.”

  A pout and a shrug. “Ooo-kaaay. Well, I talked Jeanette into signing up for two classes in summer school, and—”

  “Nope, no talk about Jeanette. Or your parents. Or your cats, hound dog or partner, in that order.”

  “Well, that doesn’t leave much, Gallagher!”

  “It leaves the whole world, Abby.”

  For a moment she was startled into ornery silence. Then she looked around and smiled. Yes, it did, didn’t it! So she told him about the taste of a fresh-picked orange, how warm it was, sweeter than candy as the juice dripped down her chin; and she told how the orange seeds were planted for budwood, and the baby trees would grow straight and tall, and the growers would prune them back to make them bush out, and when they’d bud, you’d cut off the “eyes,” or tiny buds, and then graft them onto the root stock, and bingo, you’d have fruit in two years, unless there was a freeze, or canker. And when there was canker, the trees were cut down and burned, all those lovely trees, all that work and hope and all those dreams for the future gone. And if you were lucky and there was no canker, then you worried about frost; and if a cold front was coming, you got out and started up the tractor and banked the trees and sprayed them with water to protect them with an icy coat. But there were never enough men to run the pumps day and night, because they were on their own groves trying to work the same miracle; and hardly anyone could afford heaters—even the big owners couldn’t afford the fuel—and the trees died, and she’d watched her father’s frozen hands hang hopeless at his sides, her mother’s hands wringing the bottom of her apron in despair. But if the trees didn’t die—well, there was nothing more beautiful in the whole world!

  And as they neared Tampa, she told him how the pirate ships would sail into Tampa Bay every February on Gasparillo Day and “attack” the city.

  And when they passed the turnoff to Tarpon Springs she told him about the Greek fishing village, with its fleet of ships and its fabulous food!

  And by eight-fifteen they were standing on the beach with their toes in the Gulf of Mexico.

  Jack tossed a blanket on the sand, kicked off his sneakers, and pulled his shirt up over his head.

  Abby wanted to reach out and rub her hands over that massive chest, those wonderful shoulders, that smooth, broad back. He was so dark now, bronzed by days of fishing and canoeing and skiing, and his body had the look of touchable perfection. She felt her palms itch with desire, matching the general itch that seemed to seize her body, leaving her breathless, dizzy, unnerved.

  “You okay?” Jack asked, worry clouding his eyes.

  “Fine!” she chirped, shading her eyes with one hand flat as she looked up at him. “I think I’ll just sit down for a minute.”

  “Sun, that’s what it is. You haven’t been out in the sun in days! And I didn’t stop and get you any breakfast. Sorry.” He knelt next to her on the blanket, brushing the hair back from her flushed cheeks. “Here.” He turned and pawed through the knapsack he had flung down on the sand. “Bagels. Oranges. Granola bars …”

  Abby took a cinnamon-and-raisin bar and nibbled on it, amused by his misplaced concern, yet sweetly charmed. “I’m fine. Really. What else have you got in there?”

  “Two hats. Sunglasses. Suntan oil—”

  “Great!” Abby sat up suddenly, stretching a hand out and wiggling her fingers. “I’d better put some on you before you get burned!”

  “Me?” He laughed. “You’re the one with places pale as moonlight.” He shook his head and began to unscrew the cap.

  “No! I insist! Just lie down here, and I’ll put a little on your back, your shoulders, your chest.…” She was already squeezing the oil into the trembling palm of her hand and reaching out to touch him.

  Jack lifted his chin, staring at her with a loving, knowing look. “Sounds good to me, darlin’.” He stepped out of his jeans and lay facedown on the blanket. Resting his cheek on his folded arms, he smiled to himself as she stroked the warm oil across his skin.

  She started at the small o
f his back, brushing the top of his bathing suit with her fingers, spreading her hands out over the smooth bands of muscle that covered his ribs, and up his spine, circling out again over the broad span of his shoulder blades, her fingers coming together and then sweeping out across his flesh, pushing the muscles that lay just beneath the warm, velvet skin, feeling the muscles resist, then yield to her light, trembling touch.

  Turning beneath her hands, he rolled onto his back. A teasing smile masked the husky yearning in his voice. “This side was getting lonesome, darlin’.”

  Though his lids were narrowed against the bright glare of the sun, Abby could see the sharp glints of desire that surfaced from the depths of his eyes. But he held himself still, crossed his arms beneath his head and looked up at her. “You know, you don’t need any excuse to touch me. Wanting to is enough.”

  Abby shakily rubbed oil across his chest. Her fingers tangled in the mat of dark, curly hair, leaving streaks of oil against his dark, smooth skin. She felt dizzy, giddy, her head spinning from the growing warmth of the sun on her head and shoulders and the steady, burning heat of Jacks body. She felt like a crystal icicle suspended between the two, melting, melting till nothing remained but the fierce blue flame at the heart of her.

  Desperate to ease her tension, she forced a high little laugh and rocked back on her heels. “Whooee! There’s so much of you, I don’t know if I have enough energy to finish this job!”

  Jack whooped with laughter. “You little nut!” He pulled her down on top of him, using his arms and legs to pin her against him, locking her there against his pounding heart while he kissed her moist, ready mouth. “I’m sure,” he whispered against her lips, “you have enough energy for this.”

  A high titter of giggles burst from a cluster of palms behind them. “Shh. Look at ’em kissin’!”

  Abby squirmed off Jack and jumped to her feet just in time to see a covey of six-year-olds turn tail and flee across the beach. Her face flamed with embarrassment. “I can’t believe it!”

  “Heck—” Jack was propped on one elbow, grinning at her. “There are worse things they could see, darlin.” He fell back on the sand, but kept watching her as she modestly smoothed her shorts and straightened her shirt with trembling, sandy fingers. “You know something?” he announced. “I love you. No doubt about it.”

  Abby’s heart did a somersault. And then she was smiling, her face shining with the truth and joy of it. “And I love you, Jack,” she said right out loud, and, floating back to his side, she sank down onto the sand, leaned over, and kissed him full on the mouth. “I really do.”

  “I know, baby, and I’ll spend my life making you glad you do.”

  Suddenly fireworks were bursting in her head, skyrockets of excitement shooting through her veins. She didn’t know what to do with herself, with this wild, unexpected delight. Leaping to her feet, she quickly took off the T-shirt and shorts, revealing her tiny bikini, and sped down toward the water’s edge. “Come on!” she yelled. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!”

  They yelled and splashed and swam, gave each other salty kisses, and slipped their hands over each other’s slick, sea-cooled skin. For a little while the water hid their arousal, and they jumped and played and pretended they were only having fun. Jack’s hands at her waist were only there to lift her over a dip in the sea floor. Her yelps and cries were only from the sudden, unseen dart of a fish against her leg. And when she jumped up against his chest, her hands on his shoulders, she was only trying to duck him under the water. But as she floated back down against the water-slick front of his body, he slipped a knee between her legs and she rode there against him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her breasts flattened against his chest, the hard muscular feel of his thigh between her thighs the only reality her mind could comprehend.

  She clung to him, the power of her arousal frightening and thrilling in its intensity. She wanted him so badly, it hurt. Almost weeping with frustration, she broke away.

  “I—I’m getting out,” she stammered. “I need a—a little air.”

  “We need to love each other, darlin’. That’s what we need. Just like the tide’s gotta rise, and the sun’s gotta shine—”

  “Yes! yes, I know it too. And I want to! Right now, right this moment! Quick, let’s go find a motel—” And she grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward the shore.

  “Whoa!” He laughed, and held back in the waist-high water. “I’ve got a problem you don’t have to contend with, sugar. If I walk out on the beach right now, we’re both going to be mighty embarrassed. I’d better just swim around for a minute and let things settle down.”

  With a wink he dove beneath the surface and came up ten yards away, cutting the water with his swift, powerful strokes. Abby watched him for a moment, lusting after that gorgeous body. Then with a shiver of anticipation she swam to shore, gathered their things and waited for him.

  They drove up the coast and found a motel with a fishing pier, sailboats for rent and a vacancy sign flashing out front. Jack disappeared into the office and returned with a key and a devilish grin. “Got us a room with a waterfront view.” He laughed, then kissed her throat. “I want this to be memorable!”

  Abby giggled with happiness and sudden shyness. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, her heart welling with love when he slipped an arm around her and held her. His brash enthusiasm softened to tenderness when he felt her tremble. He pulled the car into a parking spot, got out, and opened her door for her. “Come on, love,” he whispered. “Don’t be frightened.”

  “I’m not,” she assured him, her curls scattering droplets of water as she shook her head. “I’m not scared. Just … dazzled!” And she laughed softly, her love shining in her eyes.

  Jack kissed her nose and slipped the key in the lock. The door swung open, and, in a dance choreographed by Fate itself, Jack took her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He kissed her with heart-stopping sweetness, drew his hands down her body, and tugged her wet shorts down her thighs and legs. Abby stroked his back and shoulders, pressing kisses into the damp hair at the back of his neck. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too—and I want you so damn much I think I’m going to die!” He groaned and caught her face between his hands, then kissed her eyes, her nose, her cheeks and chin.

  He grabbed the bottom edge of her T-shirt and pulled it up and off, leaving only the two narrow strips of bikini covering her golden body. And then, while she still had her arms stretched up over her head, he bent and kissed the firm, ripe rise of her breasts, then nipped at her nipples through the wet, slick fabric.

  Abby yelped, laughing, feeling her body heat soar to the boiling point. Pressing her slim little hips against the taut bow of his body, she reached behind her and untied her bikini top. Before it drifted to the floor his hands already had captured her small, rose-tipped breasts, and then his mouth was where his hands had been. Abby moaned softly, swooning as his tongue rasped over her sensitive flesh.

  Then her moans became cries of excitement as she fell back against the circle of his arms and felt his mouth traveling down across her body, tasting her, licking and nipping and kissing her. He sank to his knees, rubbing his face against her belly while she curved over him, kissing his hair, his shoulders, the back of his neck. He said her name, the sound muffled against her body, his voice thick and hoarse with desire. And then he pulled her down, slowly, letting all of her body fall against him, her thighs, belly, breasts sliding against his chest, his mouth dusting kisses across her skin and then locking on to her mouth as she folded to her knees on the floor.

  Grabbing handfuls of his thick, shaggy hair, she pressed her mouth to his, hungry to kiss him, to taste him, to melt away and become part of him. She knew nothing, nothing would ever feel like this again—and that nothing else would ever be the same. And she was glad! Joy flamed in her. Passion burned. Excitement sizzled. Oh, other people could jump out of planes or leap off cliffs with only a rope, but she had this, this flying, lea
ping feeling of ecstasy within her.

  “Jack!” She gasped, trembling and laughing and kissing him all at the same time. “Why did we wait so long?”

  “Beats the hell out of me, sweetheart!” His strangled laughter became a groan, and he ripped off his clothes and pulled her flat down on top of him on the floor. Right on top of him she squirmed and wiggled her way out of the bikini bottom, only realizing how she was adding to his craziness when she felt the uncontrollable response of his naked body and heard the sharp intake of his breath. “Sorry,” she said, and wiggled some more, kissing him all over his face and chest.

  He groaned, holding her head between his hands and stilling her mouth only long enough to slip his tongue inside and kiss her with a tense, compelling fierceness.

  She placed her hands on his chest, against the dark, curly hair and the hot skin. And she let the palms of her hands travel a slow journey all over him, learning him inch by inch. And he explored her length and silky secret places, pulling little moans and cries of delight out of her, and she drew her knees up alongside his hips and sat on him, trying to pin him there with her weight while she kissed his throat and chest. But with one touch he had her limp and trembling, gasping and laughing, and he rolled over on top of her, holding his weight up on his hands, grinning and asking and wanting and promising all without a word, and she answered without a word, sliding her hands down his back and drawing him down to her, taking his weight, his power, his strength, his love, taking everything he had and giving all of herself to him.

  Later they lay sprawled across the king-size bed. Half in a daze, Abby looked down at their two bodies, their skin rippling gold and flame-bright, valleys shadowed, curves burnished, all ripeness and power, softness and strength. Leaning back, she pressed her hands flat against her breasts, and breathed, “So this is why I have this body.…”

  “One reason—and a mighty nice one.” Curving over her, he kissed the backs of both her hands, then lifted them and kissed her nipples. “Ummm, I do love you.”