Up to Me (Shore Secrets)

by Christi Barth

  Water glistened at the tips of his lashes. Ella kissed it away, then just kept heading south. Over his early-evening stubble. Down past the Adam’s apple that jerked reflexively. She’d always thought them sexy. So uniquely masculine.

  A nibble in the hollow of his collarbone. Down till her lips were just underwater, closed around his nipple. Ella flicked it against her teeth. Gray...growled? Whatever the noise was, it came from deep inside him and turned her core body temperature up by about twenty percent.

  “That’s enough,” he said roughly. “Swimming was my idea. I should get a turn.” But to her surprise, Gray gently extricated himself from their embrace. Flipped around and boosted himself out of the water.

  Wow. As water sluiced down his chest, down his muscled legs, all that hotness couldn’t keep Ella from honing in on what his boxer briefs most decidedly did nothing to conceal. The wetness of the light grey cotton highlighted every ridge, every hard and throbbing inch of him. Then, with a surge of strength that took her breath away, Gray bent over and lifted her under her arms all the way over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

  They didn’t go far. Before Ella could process anything more than the heat of his large hand splayed across the back of her thighs, he took the three steps into the hot tub. Positioned them just in front of the cascading waterfall and set her down. The steaming water pulsed and frothed around them, setting her every nerve ending to vibrate.

  Gray put one hand on the small of her back, the other on her shoulder. Then he pushed her into a back bend, through the waterfall, so her face was behind it. The line of water hit right at the tops of her breasts and roped down her stomach to between her legs. Pounding. Massaging. Sending ripples of sensation throughout her entire body.

  “Feel good?” Gray asked as he held her steady.

  She tightened her grip on his ass. “Feels amazing.” God knew she’d never be able to walk by this pool again without a sensual flashback to this night.

  The hand on her chest reached into her tank top and swept both breasts out. Gray closed his mouth around her nipple and licked in ever decreasing circles. The combination of his tongue and the steady beat of water on her other breast quickly drove Ella into a panting maelstrom of lust. She twined her legs around his until their hips pressed together. Who knew he’d be such an inventive lover? Because there was no longer any doubt in Ella’s mind about the inevitability of them becoming lovers. In fact, why wait? It certainly didn’t seem possible that she could get any more turned on than he was making her right now.

  Ella raised her voice to be heard over the waterfall. “I want to have sex with you,” she stated boldly. Unfortunately, her words produced the opposite effect of what she’d hoped. Gray bobbled his grip on her back, and she hinged backwards the rest of the way into the water. Swallowed more than a couple of mouthfuls of what tasted like straight chlorine before she found her footing. It was much darker behind the waterfall. And as the seconds ticked by—many of them—she was alone back there, palms pressed to the rock face.

  Just when she was convinced she’d gone too far, too fast with him, Gray pushed through the curtain of water. There was a firm set to his jaw. For such a confined space, he managed to keep his distance.

  “Let’s go on a date first,” he said. “A real date. A first date.”

  “A first date? You want to backtrack to hand-holding and pecks on the cheek?” A queasy roil in her stomach. Had she not responded well, or been inventive enough for Gray? Is that why he wanted to dial things back? “We just rounded second base here. Or didn’t you notice?”

  That brought him flush against her in a heartbeat. “I noticed everything. The way your nipples are the same pink as a Key West sunset. How you smile when you moan. How the way you curve into my touch makes me feel like a freaking god among men.”

  Oh. Well, that all sounded good. It sounded so good, in fact, that Ella wished she still kept a diary. Those were phrases she wanted to remember and relive over and over for the next fifty years. “I see.”

  “You’re not some hotel bar hook-up. You’re amazing, Ella. Sex with you is going to be beyond amazing. I just think we should do this right.” He hesitated just enough for her to notice and wonder why before continuing. “We should be sure we know each other before taking that step.”

  “That’s a very...prudent approach.” Ella really wanted to call it old-fashioned, but it didn’t seem right to apply that term to a man who’d just had his mouth all over her breast.

  “I don’t want you to ever regret it. You have to be sure. So go on a date with me. A real date.” And when she opened her mouth, he put a hand across it. “Screw the journal. Screw waiting for your neighbor and your stylist and their cat to weigh in. If you want to be with me, then just do it.”

  He was right. For months now, she’d been trying to find a way to extricate herself from the town’s caring yet smothering grip. Sure, everyone used the journal for their big problems. But Ella was the only one expected to use it for everything, big and small. It was time to take a stand. Time to declare her independence. And she couldn’t think of a more worthy line to draw in the sand than Gray Locke, naked and in her bed.

  “You’ve got it. I’ll go on a real date with you. Outside the Manor. In public,” Ella said, just to make it crystal clear. “You’ll have to wine me and dine me, you know.”

  Gray undid the scarf around her ponytail and threaded his fingers through her hair, tipping her head back. “Don’t worry. I plan to wine and dine the pants right off of you.”

  “Good plan,” she whispered, right before his lips captured hers once more.

  Chapter Ten

  For the one-zillionth time in the last eighteen hours, Gray called himself an idiot. He’d had a half-naked and more-than-willing Ella literally in the palm of his hand. Literally begging him to have sex. Something they both wanted, very much. Being a normal man with a healthy sex drive, Gray had never once before turned down sex from a beautiful and willing woman. But he’d discovered the ultimate cock block: his own conscience.

  He parked the car in the gravel lot in front of Cosgrove General Store. And gave in to the urge to bang his head on the steering wheel a couple of times. Damn it, he’d been nothing but upfront about his intention to leave and not look back at the end of two weeks. That should’ve cleared the way for guilt-free sex. Gray got out and slammed the door. Opened it and slammed it again, harder. He’d paid for the insurance on the rental. He could stand out here all day slamming away his frustration out if he chose.

  But then he felt a snuffling at the hem of his jeans. Looked down to discover Mitzi wagging her tail, which meant Dawn couldn’t be far.

  “Nice to see you again, Gray. Is Ella treating you well up at the Manor?”

  A flashback hit Gray of Ella, clutching him while thrusting her breasts through the water at his face. “She’s going above and beyond.”

  Dawn clapped her hands to get Mitzi’s attention, then headed inside. “Good to know. She’s got hotels in her blood, you know. Treating people right is instinctual for her.”

  Was it possible the woman knew what happened between them last night? And was taunting him? Or was he so swamped with sexual frustration that he was reading innuendo into perfectly innocent remarks? Either way, he needed a new topic. Gray followed her through the screen door. Unlocked, he noted. Her trust level was off the charts optimistic or naïve. Maybe both.

  “I’m headed down to Watkins Glen today. This seemed like a good halfway point to grab some lunch.”

  “I’ve got just the thing. Our special today’s a meatloaf sandwich.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  He’d no sooner gotten a root beer out of the cooler and taken a seat on a stool then the door crashed open, followed by a heavy, hurried clomping of what sounded like boots. Sure enough, through the travel mug/shot glass aisle appeared Casey i
n her full ranger get-up. Cute, but not with the natural-disaster scowl on her face. “What’s going on? Is somebody dead? Eloping? Win the lottery?”

  Gray slowly clapped. “Very dramatic entrance. Well done. But a simple hi, how’s your day going would’ve been enough to grab our attention.”

  All but skidding to a halt, Casey gaped at him. “What are you doing here?”

  She’d been a lot friendlier the last time they met. “Eating lunch,” he said, although that seemed as obvious as a Yankee fan at a Sox game, what with him sitting at the counter and it being straight up noon.

  “I can’t believe Ella pulled you into this.” She shook her head as she sat down next to him. “No offense, Gray. You’re a cool guy. You stood up for Ward and put the giddy-up back in Ella. But this is too serious to share with strangers.”

  Now she had his full attention. Trouble—in any size or shape—always pinged on his radar during an assessment. “What is?”

  Casey threw her hands up in the air. “I don’t know.”

  They might as well be re-enacting the who’s on first discussion. “For God’s sake. Do you need to take a minute and figure out what the hell you’re trying to say?”

  “It’s an emergency. That’s all I know.”

  Timing was everything. Apparently he’d scored a ringside seat for something big. “What emergency? Who’s having one?” And then all thoughts of his job and what he might learn faded away as he replayed her words. Most importantly, the source of Casey’s knowledge. As his gut tightened, Gray asked, “Is it Ella?”

  Another door slam. Much heavier boots clomped across the pine flooring. “This is nuts,” Ward proclaimed. “Ella obviously knows how to use a cell phone. She texted us all to come. Why couldn’t she just text us the rest of the message? Why did I have to leave the distillery in the middle of the damn day?”

  “Because Ella doesn’t cry wolf. If she needs us, we’re here for her. No questions asked. So stop sniping before she gets here.” Piper walked in the back door and straight behind the counter to give Dawn a hug. She sure classed up the joint, with a white top, purple pants and a twisty scarf with both colors shot through it. “That sandwich looks amazing.”

  “It will be—for Gray.” Dawn handed him the plate covered in chips, coleslaw and a slab of meatloaf as thick as his wrist sticking out from lettuce, Swiss and tomato on a kaiser roll. Barbecue sauce dripped down the sides. Heaven on a plate. “Piper, you know where everything is. You can make one for yourself if you want. I’m going to go put Mitzi in the office.”

  “Piper Morrissey cooking?” Casey stuck her tongue in her cheek. “Must be a blue moon tonight.” She leaned her elbows on the counter and stole a chip off Gray’s plate. “Why don’t you double down on that sandwich making? I don’t want to miss out on this rare occasion.”

  “Very funny.” And stuck out her tongue as she rolled up the sleeves of her white blouse. “Making a sandwich isn’t cooking. Anyone can slap a few things in between two slices of bread.”

  Ward dropped onto the stool on the other side of Gray. “Great. Slap one together for me, too.”

  Her hands stilled with bread halfway out of the bag. “I’m not making you a sandwich. Just like I won’t rub your feet. Or keep you company while you wait three hours for the cable repairman. I’m not your girlfriend anymore, Ward.”

  Well. Damn. That explained the hot-and-cold-running animosity between the two of them. Gray wondered how long ago they’d pulled the plug on that. Cause feelings sure seemed to still be running hot and bothered.

  Ward’s fingertips dug into the polished wood edge of the counter. “Jesus, I didn’t ask for a blow job, Piper. It’s just lunch. Do you have to pick a fight every time we’re in the same room?”

  She looked at Gray. Or rather, noticed that Gray was angled to stare at both of them. Hell, he didn’t think he’d blinked since she dropped that little historical bomb into the conversation. Then she looked over at Casey, who shook her head and tsked. That was all it took to send Piper’s hand back into the bag to pull out another couple of slices.

  “Sorry, Ward. I’m on edge. Worried about Ella. Taking it out on you is a habit I promise I’m trying to break. Some days biting your head off is just a little too easy. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

  His fingers relaxed, but he didn’t look convinced. “Without spitting in it?”

  “Don’t push your luck.” But she smiled as she set out three plates.

  Having all of them here gave Gray the opportunity to push a little on the city planner/treasurer debacle. Well, for now, just your basic, sordid adulterous hook-up. But it certainly had the potential to turn into a debacle. And if there was a single cent misappropriated from town funds to support their not-so-secret romance, Gray would have no choice but to recommend Ruffano & McIntosh stay as far away as possible. Better yet, Martin wouldn’t be able to fight him on that finding. Their Board of Directors would never okay expansion into a town on the brink of bankruptcy.

  “You’ve got me hooked with your local-government version of a soap opera. Any new developments?” He took a bite of his sandwich. Christ, it was good. Thanks to Dawn’s and Joel’s cooking, Gray mentally added a second run to his plan for the afternoon. On the other hand, his massive sexual frustration, much like stress, might burn the calories off him. So at the rate he and Ella weren’t going, maybe he’d have to up his donut intake just so his pants didn’t fall off his hips.

  “The Pam and Larry sex scandal burning up the ears of every gossip in town?” Piper ran the knife through the sandwich hard enough to cut an aluminum can. Chances were good that she’d put two and two together to the same potential zero balance in the town coffers that Gray had. “There are new details about every five minutes. Whether or not any of them are true is another story.”

  Dawn pulled sodas out of the cooler for everyone. “Her husband doesn’t know yet. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Ward snorted. “And I’d like my farts to turn into stacks of crisp hundred dollar bills. You know what? I think my fart wish has a higher likelihood than Roger not clueing in to what everyone else in town knows already.”

  “You’re all eating,” Dawn said mildly. But Gray recognized the rebuff implicit in her words. God knew he’d heard practically the same thing out of his mother more times than he’d bother to count.

  “Pardon me.” Ward shot both his pinkies up. “I’d like my burps to turn into stacks of crisp hundred dollar bills.”

  “Much better,” she said with a snort. “Let me put it another way. Roger’s expected back by the end of the week. That gives Pam and Larry a couple of days to clean up their act. I’m hoping they do. Whether they manage to or not, Roger won’t hear a word about the situation from any of you, will he?”

  “Of course not.” Casey shook her head back and forth so hard her ponytail snapped against her cheek. Piper and Ward nodded in agreement. Gray realized the silence was his cue. Like they thought he’d actually waste his supposed vacation time tracking down Roger the trucker to tell him his wife was a cheating slut. So he, too, nodded the assent they seemed to want from him.

  “Official town council business, after all. I’m just an outsider.” Weird that he needed to remind them.

  Another slam of the screen door, followed by the unmistakable—to him—slap of Ella’s sneakers. He put his sandwich down and turned around to check her out. Today’s version were black, covered in pink and white hearts. Almost the same pink as the heat washing into her cheeks when she noticed him. God, she was adorable.

  “Oh, Gray, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

  For a town that had bent over backwards to be hospitable so far, today he felt about as welcome as a case of crabs. “Yeah, that seems to be the consensus.”

  He could almost see the thoughts tumble through her mind. The deepening of the pink stain that
had cropped up on her cheeks had to be memories of last night. The sidelong glance taking in all her friends at the counter probably gauged their interest level in how she interacted with Gray. The way she stood, stock-still, figuring out her next move. Gray wouldn’t have put a measly nickel on whether she came to him or not.

  But he was damn happy when she covered the space between them in a half skip. Spun his stool around more so that she could move right in between his thighs. And then slid her arms under his like they’d done it a hundred times before. “Hi.”

  “Right back at you.” Ella’s pink top was untucked from the top of her skirt. Okay, maybe he’d just tugged it out a second ago, but the end result was that he rested his fingers against the warm smoothness at the small of her back. Gray wondered just how far her courage would take her. Sure, she’d agreed to a real date, out in public. But PDA in front of her friends was expecting a lot right out of the gate. So he waited.

  For about the blink of an eye. Then Ella fitted her lips to his. Without hesitation. Without another glance at her friends. Nope, she just tuned out the rest of the world and tuned into him. Sweet, soft and utterly irresistible. Not that he tried. The taste of her fired happiness through him. Gray tightened his hold on her. Deepened the kiss just enough to tease a tremor through her body. Then he eased back and tugged her shirt back down over her waistband.

  “You two want to move this to the canoe upstairs for some privacy?” asked Ward.