Honor on the Cape

by M. K. Meredith

  Jamie had always made caveats and explanations for the way his family lived, for his mother’s role in it all, his father’s expectations. So often, Blayne had assumed he was trying to manage her expectations on ever being accepted in the family.

  She glanced at the man who held her heart, the man she used to dream about calling her own so many years ago, and possibility fluttered. A feeling she’d never believed she’d feel again.

  In less than a week, she’d be on a plane to Ireland. All her yearning for home, for her da, came crashing down to remind her why she had to leave Cape Van Buren.

  But the encouraging motherly hand covering hers and the gray-eyed gaze of her one true love studying her from across the room reminded her of why she so desperately wanted to stay.

  Jay sipped his wine as he half-listened to his father retell the ins and outs of his most recent doctor’s appointment for the hundredth time. It wasn’t that Jay didn’t want to know, but at this point, he could recap each and every detail right down to the socks the old man had worn that day.

  Blayne and his mother were elbows deep in gala details. From what he could tell, the event was practically ready to go, and after seeing what she’d put together, it would, without a doubt, be the most glamorous event Cape Van Buren had ever seen.

  “She’s quite something,” his father said.

  Competent, professional, savvy, and fierce. There was nothing to do but agree. “I don’t deserve her.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Jay jerked his head toward his father.

  “But I hope you get her anyway.” His father’s tone was sincere, which was both an insult and encouraging. “You should never have left her like you did.”

  Jay agreed, but try telling that to his eighteen-year-old self. “I was an ass and an idiot. My ambition called. Duty called. My family, our business, has always come first. Always trying so hard to prove that I deserved to be a part of it. All I ended up proving was that I didn’t deserve the greatest thing I ever had.”

  His father studied him over the rim of his wine glass, then took a sip. “You had to make your mistakes to really see what you wanted. We always encouraged you to return to her.”

  Jay shot his dad an incredulous look. “Look at her. I couldn’t until I proved I was worthy.”

  His father’s sigh came from the deep recesses of his chest. “Jay, someday you’re going to have to let go of the guilt of privilege you’ve wrapped yourself in.” He raised his glass toward the women.

  “Keep giving, like you are with the center. Like you did in Haiti after the earthquake, or New Orleans after Katrina. From a young age, you’ve always jumped in. But someday, you’re going to have to stop punishing yourself for being an Astor…for leaving her.”

  “Family comes first,” Jay said.

  “You’re right, your mother and I have always preached family-first, but that’s always included those we were bringing into the fold.”

  “But that was part of the problem. I realized I couldn’t do that to Blayne.”

  His father’s brows furrowed. “Do what?”

  Jay shook his head. There was no way to explain his feelings to his father without hurting the man, and that was not his intention. He just didn’t think his father ever really considered how hard his being gone all the time had been on his wife.

  James Alexander Wilmington Astor II was a great father and a loving—though absent—husband who had worked his whole life to give his family every opportunity to thrive in this community and around the world. Jay saw that. He just hadn’t always agreed.

  “It’s nothing. We travel a lot for our business—”

  “You are full of excuses, son. She’s from Ireland. Europeans travel all the time. What are you really afraid of?”

  Jay scrubbed his fingers through his scruff. Stepping into his father’s shoes after proving his abilities was what he’d been working for in order to return to Blayne. But he still feared he wasn’t enough, of not being worthy of a woman like her, of his selfish streak hurting her again.

  Of never being worthy of her, no matter what he did. He finished his drink, welcoming the burn.

  “Look, never mind. I was eighteen. There’s no explaining the rationale of kid.”

  His father slapped him on the back with a chuckle. “Now that I get. Do you remember when you were determined to graduate at the top of your class, you got it in your head to paint your room black, including your ceiling?”

  Jay nodded.

  “You thought that blocking out the world would allow you to be more successful, let you focus. You had your mother put up black-out drapes. We were worried you’d suffer from vitamin D deficiency, but a week with no sun and you were taking down the drapes and repainting the room yourself since we refused to fix it for you.”

  Jay remembered all too well. “If you remember, I left the walls black.”

  “Fair enough, but my point is…you sought the light. You’ve always had this funny idea that you had to suffer to deserve your success. But you still graduated in the top what, three percent of your class? Even with the distractions of life and the responsibilities of our family? I’ve always thought you were doing the same thing when you left Blayne.”

  Jay stared at his dad. He’d never thought of it that way before. There was truth in his words that Jay couldn’t quite explain. He’d always felt as if he had too much compared to his friends, to the world. And he still wanted more. That’s what bothered him the most.

  But it wouldn’t have changed the fact that Blayne would have had to spend a lot of time alone while the Astor men ran the business. It was just way too archaic of a lifestyle to expect a woman like her to thrive in. At least, that’s what he told himself when he was too much of a coward to run to her right away and beg her forgiveness.

  He’d told himself he couldn’t do that to her.

  Watching her with his mother, seeing her plans for the gala, working alongside her for the launch, had shown him a whole other side of the woman he loved that he’d never seen before.

  She was a powerhouse all on her own.

  And as archaic as it might seem, he wanted her by his side.

  Being with her again, making love with her, holding her in his arms, filled the emptiness inside him, that void that had been gnawing at him all these years.

  From head to toe, he looked his fill. She was magnificent.

  He had to find a way to show her that side-by-side was exactly where they belonged.

  He’d never deserve her, but he wanted her anyway.

  It was time to quit punishing himself for having it all, because the fact was that without Blayne he had nothing

  She was his all and everything. And it was time to tell her.

  Chapter 14

  Blayne slid her hand into Jamie’s as they walked along the grass-topped cliff overlooking the Atlantic behind the Astor estate. Their chef had outdone herself with dinner, and so Jamie’s parents had retired to bed, leaving Jamie and Blayne to enjoy the rest of the evening alone.

  They were a distance from the house, the golden wash of the exterior lights casting them in a warm glow and throwing shadows along the grounds as if part of a large soirée.

  She imagined there’d been many as Jamie grew up.

  A low rock wall bordered the drop-off to the sea below, and three iron benches that had born witness to thousands of stunning sunrises sat a few feet from the protective barrier marking the beginning, the middle, and the end of the safety net along the length of the cliff.

  She couldn’t help but appreciate how it mirrored her time with Jamie. Their tumultuous wild ride, the beauty, the raw energy, and the often inflexible truths of reality. No matter how hard she tried to stop herself, she felt as if she stood at the edge and was about to fall to the crashing waves below. But with her heart facing his, there she stood.

  “Thank you for bringing me to see your parents.”

  She loved the feel of their palms together. The grip of his callus
es, the warmth of his skin. She never noticed how sensitive her hands were until Jamie held them.

  That was how it was with him. His nearness brought her to life, made her world buzz with energy. She bit her lip. How was she going to ever leave him?

  He slid his fingers up her arm then under her hair and gently gripped her neck. “Then why do you seem so sad?”

  She shrugged. She needed to tell him she was leaving. It was no secret, but they’d also never talked about a future together, and the chance of being rejected by the man she loved—again? No, she couldn’t take that.

  She also wanted to enjoy the last week they had and revel in the excitement and plans for the gala.

  But there was more. Talking to Mrs. Astor about her ma had made her think of how short life could be. They were all on borrowed time with no knowledge of when that time was up.

  She trailed a finger along his cheek, across the chiseled edge of his jaw, the rough scruff tickling her fingertips and sending goosebumps along her skin. “Talking about my ma. It feels like forever since she passed. Makes me miss my da even more.”

  His eyes took on that heavy-lidded darkness of wanting from her touch, and her heart answered by speeding in her chest and stealing a bit of her breath. She continued, “I’m sad about the time we wasted being apart. The time I wasted being angry and hurt.”

  Jamie drew her close, but she pressed her palm against his chest, trying to steady her emotions as she got lost in the steely gaze of the man she was head over heels for, forever lost to, and—God help her—still hopelessly in love with.

  They’d lost so many years together. And she still didn’t clearly understand why beyond the naivety and immaturity of youth. His…and hers.

  Because, let’s face it. If he had returned and he said he’d wanted to, would she really have taken him back? Or, in her pain and fear, would she have rejected his apology, too hurt to save herself from herself?

  She, too, had already lost so many years with her father, her siblings. Ireland.

  All this time, she’d worked her ass off to do something that would be special enough to show her face again to her father, but now she felt worse than ever.

  There was no achievement in wasting so much time. In being a coward. In putting her pride above family.

  Enough was enough.

  It was time to go home. Her heart broke a little with each beat of Jamie’s against her palm.

  It was time she made amends, no matter how difficult it would be.

  But first, it was time to take advantage of every opportunity that was left to experience life with Jamie until she had to step on that plane.

  It was time to fall over the edge.

  “Jamie?” Her whisper barely carried above the din of the crashing waves along the rocks below.

  He slid his fingers along her cheeks and into her hair, lifting her lips toward him. “Blayne, I—”

  Suddenly afraid of what was to come, of what had come before, she pressed her finger against his mouth.

  “The gala is ready, our plans for the launch will sustain Larkin’s amazing vision for this community. Let’s just sit in this moment, okay? Celebrate it. Just you and me.” She searched his face, desperate for him to agree. “I need you—”

  A deep growl rumbled up from his chest. “I’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

  He slammed his lips to hers with an element of possession that set off a rush of adrenaline and sparked her desire like never before.

  His heat and taste enveloped her in a heady cocoon of want. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her to her toes.

  She gripped his shoulders, kneading the mass of muscles, and bringing him closer still. Her skirts fluttered about her legs as his delicious fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, tightening his hold on her. An intense, swirling pressure built between her legs with every kiss, every caress, every groan of pleasure from his lips.

  Yes, this was what she needed.

  The night was warmer than usual, especially for May, the ocean barely cooling the air from the afternoon sun. The humid breeze weaved between their bodies as they moved, melting into their heat, and leaving their skin to glide effortlessly with each caress.

  Jamie walked her backward toward a bench until he dropped down to the seat, encouraging her to follow, to straddle his lap with her thighs.

  The hard iron dug into her knees but only heightened the pleasure of his heat between her legs, his muscled flesh in her hands.

  She dove her fingers through his hair, gripping with a tug to better angle his face for her kiss. Her tongue teased and tasted. She’d never tire of his unique flavor, would dream of it for the rest of her life.

  He slipped the edge of her blouse over her breasts, baring them to the moon and the stars. Her nipples tightened under his gaze, and his hands filled with the fullness of her as if he couldn’t wait if his life had depended on it.

  With each gentle massage of his strong fingers, her nipples stiffened into impossibly hard peaks, and the tightness coiling inside of her intensified. She ground down against his hard length, trying to ease her body’s demand for more.

  She didn’t want it to be over too soon. This was a night she wanted to take with her, to warm her when she was alone, to comfort her when she ached for him.

  “God damn it, woman.” His gravelly curse pushed her, promising more.

  “I need to feel you.” She worked the buttons of his shirt, but in her fevered state, fumbled with more than she released. On a groan, she bunched the hem and dragged the material over his head.

  His soft chuckle washed over her as he helped to get the shirt off “Easy.”

  She gripped his hair again. “It’s never easy with us.” She slammed her lips against his, just as he had before, reveling in the power of it all. With him, she was invincible to everything but his touch, and the contrary fact made her even more desperate to take and to give until they were both helpless.

  Lifting her breast to his mouth, his lips found her nipple, sucking, then swirling his hot tongue in an eternal circle of pleasure. From one breast to the other, he worked the weight of them in his hands and drew a moan from her lips.

  Her head dropped to the side as a barrage of sensations roared through her. The night sky was an audience of flickering lights, celebrating the concert of their lovemaking. She bit her lip and groaned. With her blouse now bunched around her waist, her upper body completely bare and exposed to the universe, she let her arms drop to her sides to simply feel every caress, tug, and kiss from Jamie’s talented mouth and hands.

  “You taste so good.” His voice was thick with wanting and skittered along her skin in a velvety shiver.

  Abandoning her breasts, Jamie dropped warm, wet kisses along her chest to her collarbone as his fingers dug into her hips. Fisting her skirt, he tugged and pulled until the fabric floated about them like a cloud. His fingertips found the edge of her panties, dipping beneath the lace at the juncture of her thighs.

  Her breath caught, and she lifted a bit to give him more access. The feel of his feather-light touch along her soft flesh ignited her senses, then he touched that part of her that craved him the most. “Jamie!”

  “I’m here.” He lightened his touch even more. Just barely skimming her peak with the pad of his thumb. His chest rumbled. “I want to bury myself so deep inside you that you can’t imagine how you ever lived without me. But first, I want to feel you, to have you feel me. To remember. And never forget.”

  His words were already too close to the truth for comfort. She pressed her lips against his neck, taking in his scent, memorizing his texture and taste. With shaking hands, she worked at his belt then, with his help, shoved his pants down to his thighs.

  She took him in with hungry eyes, her body clamoring to take him inside and let him do just as he wanted. The thick length of him rose between them, setting her core off in a series of tiny contractions in reflex to the sight. “I want you.”

  “Good God, woman. I’ve never s
topped wanting you.”

  He grabbed the back of her head with one hand, drawing her in to take her mouth, while his other slid her panties to the side.

  She gripped him, squeezing against the solid heat, and rubbing his tip against her.

  Her body buckled at his touch, and his hips jerked up toward her. His low growl elicited an elated, breathless giggle from her lips as she did it again.

  “Blayne,” he warned.

  Her body was slick and ready for him. Primed to more than finish this ride, but rather take control of it and make it one he’d never forget.

  Holding him to her, she lowered over the head of him, just enough to feel the ridge of his length, then she lifted.

  His dick throbbed. Teasing him was fun, but it tortured her as well.

  Holding his gaze with her own, the moon and stars blanketing them from above, the ocean waves buffeting their ears, his heat, his taste, his scent—her senses were in overload, and a heightened urgency for release exploded from her center.

  She slid over him, taking his body into her as far she could before she lifted and did it all over again.

  As she moved over him, he growled against her lips. “Fuck me, you are too much.”

  Their lips met, desperate to take in every flavor the other offered, and she slid along his length again and again, harder and harder. His fingers dug into the mounds of her ass, and she gripped his shoulders, trying to gain momentum and seeking control that was neither hers nor his, but only belonged to both of them together.

  Together.

  The beauty and perfection, the dark and the pain, all rolled into one reality of life, and with one last thrust from his hips and drop of her body, they soared over that cliff together in a never-ending white light of pulsing sensation.

  Jamie swallowed her cry of release as his own groan rumbled from his chest. She ground against him, riding the waves of pleasure that washed through her in an ongoing ripple of clarity.

  “You’re mine, Bean,” he said in a fierce whisper against her lips.

  In the U.S. or Ireland, it didn’t matter. She was his.

  With or without honor, there was no one else.