Wild: Whispering Cove, Book 1

by Mackenzie McKade

  Fire lanced her pussy. Hot jets of semen caused a series of spasms to erupt before triggering another harder, deeper orgasm. Andrea groaned from the pure pleasure, uncontrollable contractions shaking her to the core.

  The next thing she became aware of was sitting in Brody’s lap. His strong arms wrapped around her.

  “Oh my God.” Andrea snuggled into his warmth. “I don’t remember it ever being quite so earth-shattering.”

  Warm, rich laughter flowed over her. “I think I’ve just been insulted.”

  “Oh, the hell you have.” Andrea bit him playfully on the shoulder.

  “Ouch. You jest while my pride has taken a severe blow.” His palm smoothed down her back. “If you will allow it, Miss Adair, I do believe I can perform even better in a bed with a silk rope or a pair of handcuffs.”

  “Really?” Her shock was overcome by the realization that she missed moments like these that she and Brody had once shared.

  His roguish grin made her heart flip-flop. He nodded, rising so that both of them stood face-to-face. Slapping her sharply on the ass, he turned and ran for the stairs. “Last one to bed is a rotten egg.”

  A second of doubt crept into her mind, but she shoved it aside and headed for the stairs.

  Tonight was her night—and Andrea planned to make the most of it.

  Chapter Seven

  Brody woke to the sensation of his body spooned against a warm woman. Inhaling Andie’s scent, he nuzzled her neck, careful not to wake her. He couldn’t help bathing in the glow from last evening. It had been magical loving her all night long. He tightened his grip around her waist and released a long, deep, audible breath.

  This was how life should be. Him. Andie. Together.

  Yet even as he lay with the woman he loved, Brody was no fool. Last night he had won the battle, but not the war. Andie carried demons from her past. Until she faced them—vanquished them—his hope of winning her over was just a dream.

  “Brody?”

  For a second he didn’t know whether she murmured his name in her sleep or if he had disturbed her.

  “What time is it?” she groaned in a drowsy voice that made him smile.

  Locating that sensitive spot behind her ear, he laved it with his tongue before answering. “Eight. Too early to get up.” It was Sunday and he had the day off. His plan was simple. Spend every minute with Andie, preferably in bed.

  She stretched her long, sleek body, rolling over onto her back. Her eyelids were heavy, slits of blue shown beneath them. A thoroughly sated, sexy expression softened her face.

  “I need to check on Grandpa.”

  Tossing a leg over hers, he pinned her to the bed. “And I need to hold you a little longer.” Easing his hips so they crossed hers, he leaned in and kissed her.

  Her eyes widened with the feel of his morning erection hard against her belly. “Brody, you’re insatiable.”

  “Only with you, baby.” And Lord, it was true.

  Using a knee, he wedged her legs apart and slipped between them. Their eyes met and she smiled, sending his heart reeling.

  Man. He loved this woman.

  His cock nudged her entrance, finding her moist, eager. But then Andie had always been hot and ready for him. When he slid inside, filled her completely, both of them simultaneously sighed. The slow, steady rhythm their bodies moved in was exactly how he had envisioned waking each morning.

  Then a door slammed.

  They went deathly still. Several people started talking.

  Andie jammed her palms against his chest. She angled her head, listening intently. “Oh my God. It’s Errol, Byron…” Her eyes widened. “And Grandpa.” Pushing at his shoulders, she attempted to wiggle free. “Hurry. Get off me.”

  Brody eased back, leaving the warmth of her body, hissing in discomfort. His dick was not happy and harder than hell.

  Throwing back the covers, she sprang to her feet. Naked and in all her glory, she slid across the waxed floor, disappearing into the closet. When she returned she had a long, silky robe on and was heading for the door.

  Reluctantly, Brody climbed off the bed. After he located his uniform and shoes, he dressed. Several of the buttons were missing from his shirt. He’d have to find them later. Running his fingers through his hair, he looked in the mirror above the dresser. “This will have to do.”

  By the time he got to the bottom of the stairs, the heavy aroma of coffee caught his attention. He could use a cup.

  When he entered the kitchen, Andie was all aflutter, pacing the floor. She only stopped to narrow her steely glare on her grandfather. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “No need, lassie. Errol and Byron sprung me.” The old man grinned impishly.

  “Sprung you?” Her voice pitched. “Don’t tell me you left the hospital without the doctor releasing you?” Throwing her hands into the air, she huffed. “God, I don’t believe you.”

  “Ease down, lassie. Dr. Dani gave me the thumbs up.”

  Andie turned her pique toward Byron who sat beside her grandfather at the table. “Is that true?”

  The large man cringed beneath her scrutiny. “Yes, Andie.”

  Brody moved to the sink to assist Errol with the coffee he had poured into five mugs. When Brody placed a cup before Harold, the elderly man grinned at him, and then at the gun holstered at his waist.

  “Did you have to use your weapon or handcuffs to persuade my granddaughter to allow you to stay last night?”

  Brody took a seat across from Harold. “Nah. I used my charm.”

  Andie threw her hands into the air, again. “Arghhh… All four of you are incorrigible.” She stomped from the kitchen.

  “What did I do?” Errol asked, grabbing his cane as if it were an afterthought, before he hobbled toward the table, two cups of coffee in his other hand.

  “Nothing,” Brody assured Errol. “She’s just worried.” He picked up his coffee and blew the steam away. “So, did Dr. Dani really give you her okay?” As he sipped the rich brew, the hot liquid soothed his parched throat.

  “Aye, she did.” Harold took a drink and then attached his gaze on Brody. “Did you convince me granddaughter to stay?”

  “Harold, you and I both know Andie plans to return to California.” That was the truth and it pained Brody to admit it.

  “But you be working on it, right?”

  Brody looked over his coffee cup, a grin touching his lips. “Yes, sir. I’m working on it.”

  “That’s a good lad. It would warm the cockles of me heart to have the lassie back home where she belongs.”

  Errol stood staring out the kitchen window. “Looks like the storm blew by us.” Then he took a seat at the table.

  For a moment the four men drank coffee and talked about the weather. It wasn’t long before Andie joined them. Dressed in jeans, a thin cotton top and tennis shoes, she moved behind her grandfather, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Her hair fell neatly around her shoulders. She must have washed her ire away with a shower, because she smelled of soap and a light perfume.

  “So what can I do for you, Grandpa? Are you hungry?”

  “Not a thing, lassie. I ate before I left the hospital. You and Brody do whatever it be you kids do.”

  Brody liked that idea. In fact, he liked it a lot.

  Andie rested her palms on the old man’s shoulders. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “I’m not alone.” Harold cast a glance back at her. “Errol is here to keep me company. Byron’s taking off to meet his grandson for lunch. You remember Braydon?”

  “Yes. But—”

  “No use arguing with him, Andie.” Errol rose from his chair, carrying his mug to the coffeepot. “You’ll only ruffle his old tail feathers and he’ll end up back in the hospital.”

  Byron nodded. “The scallywag has a point. Best be giving your cantankerous grandfather his way.”

  Harold shot Byron a withering scowl. “I’m not cantankerous, just set in me ways.”

  Andie shook her head.
“So the three of you are running me out of the house?”

  “It appears they are.” Brody pushed back his chair and rose. “Why don’t we take a jaunt around town? You can see the difference ten years makes.”

  Andie rolled her eyes. “It looks like I don’t have a choice.”

  “Great. I need a shower and change of clothes. I’ll be back in say forty-five minutes to pick you up.”

  The smell of raw seafood hung heavy in the air along Fisherman’s Market. To the left of the street a stack of half-cylinder, wire-mesh lobster traps were stacked high. Most people didn’t know that by law each trap had to have a specified dimensional hole in the mesh to allow under-sized lobsters to escape the trap.

  Andrea couldn’t help wondering where the hell that memory came from. Scanning the area, she was taken aback that nothing had really changed.

  The bustling of tourists, locals and restaurant owners shopping for fresh catch to place on their menus made the market an interesting place. From fruits to steamed crabs and raw oysters, a shopper could get almost anything their heart desired.

  Sure, some of the marquees had changed and everything had gotten a little more hi-tech, like the digital scales and packaging equipment used. But the rows of stores, vendors shouting at the top of their lungs trying to entice customers to their stands, remained the same.

  Playful banter exchanged between Waters and Ruysdael. The two elderly gents were still battling ten years later about whose fish were fresher—that much hadn’t changed.

  Andrea found herself feeling peaceful, happy. “I’d almost forgotten—” She snapped her mouth shut.

  “What, Andie?” Brody grabbed her hand and they slid across his jeans as they walked. “What did you almost forget?”

  The instinct to pull away was strong, but she ignored it. “How much I loved this market.”

  There.

  Andrea had openly admitted it. She missed Whispering Cove. She missed Brody. She missed her grandfather most of all. A whisper of trepidation slid across her skin. Dammit. She had to—

  A sign with a familiar green icon caught her attention. “Oh my God. You have a Starbucks?”

  “Yes. Even Whispering Cove has coffee.”

  Laughter rose and she swatted Brody’s shoulder, feeling the strong muscles beneath his T-shirt. Last night there had been no barriers. Memories of her caressing every inch of his body rose, sending a shiver through her. If they hadn’t been interrupted this morning she would have done it over and over.

  This is bad, so bad. Andrea was falling all over again.

  “Well, if it isn’t trouble herself.” A strange male voice spun her around.

  When she saw the young man who looked almost identical to Brody, except his hair was a chestnut brown instead of black, her jaw dropped. “Reece?”

  “Yeah, darlin’. It’s me.” After he gave Andrea a big hug, he slapped Brody on the back. “Hey, bro. Stopped by your house last night, but you didn’t answer.” With an appreciative gaze, he scanned Andrea from head to toe and back again. “Now I know why.” Reece had the same drop-dead, lady-killer smile that Brody had—the little devil. “Mom said to make sure you bring Andie by before she skips town.”

  Andrea remembered Hannah McGrath as five-foot-nothing, a small woman, who ruled the roost with a wooden spoon. With a single flick of her wrist she could ricochet the utensil off of Brody hitting Reece. Strong and demanding, but she cherished her boys and they loved her too.

  “How’s your mother?”

  Brody and Reece had lost their father due to stomach cancer when they were young boys. It had been a horrible time of adjustment. They had struggled to survive. Both boys had stepped forward and taken odds jobs to help out.

  “Mean as a crab and twice as ornery, but then again I remember you the same way.” Reece had the McGrath’s hazel eyes and they sparkled with mischief.

  “Lies. All lies,” she chuckled.

  Reece was four years younger than her and Brody, and they had always run away when he had tried to follow them. Now the man was taller than both of them and she’d lay a bet, faster too.

  “Heading into the Seaside Pub?” Brody asked, eyeing his brother.

  “Yeah. I’m meeting up with Hauk to chat about some repairs.”

  If she recalled, Hauk Michaelsen was the proprietor of the pub. “Are you in construction?”

  “Reece has an Architect degree and a Master’s in Construction Management.” Pride rose in Brody’s voice.

  “And you live in Whispering Cove?” Dammit. Andrea didn’t miss Brody’s cringe or just how snooty she sounded.

  Reece only shrugged. “What can I say? Whispering Cove is in my blood.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “I’ve got to go. Andie, it was good seeing you again. Bro.” With a wink in Andrea’s direction and a nod in Brody’s, Reece turned and walked away.

  She watched him disappear inside the establishment. “He looks good, happy.”

  Brody captured her hand in his. “He is, but Mom is riding both of our asses to settle down, get married and have her some grandchildren.”

  Heat exploded up Andrea’s neck, spreading like wildfire across her cheeks. Just the thought of another woman sharing Brody’s bed, his life, made her see red.

  Mine, whispered through her mind.

  As much as she tried to reason with herself, it did no good. It wasn’t fair to keep him dangling like a fish on a hook. No. She had to let him go, because she didn’t deserve him or any semblance of happiness.

  She should have never returned to Whispering Cove.

  “Hey, are you hungry? The Seafarer still serves their famous lobster rolls.” He waggled his brows. “You remember, big chunks of lobster meat on a freshly baked roll with lettuce and lemon. And Katy’s back for the reunion.”

  Her appetite had died with his previous comment about marriage and babies, but she wouldn’t deny Brody. “Katy?”

  Her once best friend Katy Wilson’s parents owned the Seafarer, but Andrea doubted that was what the fuss was about. Katy had become a big-time celebrity, a master chef with her own television show.

  Andrea and Brody turned the corner and the restaurant came into view.

  The salty air was hard on buildings along the coast. The wooden planks of the Seafarer were chipped and worn as if the slats could use a wire brush and coat of paint. Still, the weathered look gave the place a certain charm, homey and welcoming.

  Instead of entering through the front door, Brody led her around the back. “Let’s eat out on the patio.”

  As they took a seat, seagulls squawked above them. Some of the birds skimmed the surface of the ocean looking for food. A cool, salty and somewhat fishy breeze disturbed the white butcher paper atop the tables. Memories of scribbling Andie loves Brody all over the paper with red crayon rose to make her heart flutter. He reached for the tin of colors and wrote Brody loves Andie in big red letters.

  Tears welled in her eyes and she had to look away.

  “Andie?”

  They shared the memory.

  She choked back uninvited emotion, swallowed hard, and turned to face him. “Lots of memories here.” Her smile felt strained, forced. “Bring on the lobster rolls.”

  A young waitress approached the table, saving her from Brody’s scrutiny. The teenage girl giggled. “What will it be, Sheriff?” Her cheeks blushed.

  Poor girl. She had it bad for Brody and Andrea couldn’t blame her. The man was gorgeous. Time had been more than good to him. Like a fine wine, his looks had gotten better with age.

  “Hey, Tish. How about a lobster roll and a beer.”

  “Chips or coleslaw?”

  “Chips.”

  “Make that two. Extra melted butter,” Andrea added, remembering how much Brody enjoyed butter on his lobster.

  As Tish walked away, Brody’s face softened. “You remembered.” Reaching across the table, he squeezed her hand.

  Andrea tore her gaze away from him and stared toward the ocean. Each whitecap reminded her
of what she’d lost. Why she couldn’t embrace the love Brody offered.

  There was no fairness in love. The Goddess of Love wasn’t like Lady Justice. No. She wasn’t blind. Nor did she give a shit who she hurt.

  Andrea sighed.

  Their drinks were delivered by an older waitress, probably because Tish was underage and currently busy shooing a bird off a table that dug through the discarded shells and half-eaten corn cobs sticking out of the recessed bucket in the middle of someone’s abandoned table.

  Andrea took a sip of the bitter ale, and then another, before their sandwiches were delivered.

  Immediately Brody doused the white meat with butter before taking a huge bite. “Mmmm…” he hummed. Halfway through devouring his meal, he paused. “Andie, you haven’t eaten a thing.”

  But she had finished three-quarters of her beer and was thinking about ordering another. Maybe looking through a pair of beer-goggles, things wouldn’t appear so bleak. The cool glass touched her lips and she tipped it, taking another swig before setting it on the table.

  Under his questioning gaze she picked up the sandwich and took a nibble. “Mmmm…you’re right. This is tasty.” Said like a real trooper, even though it stuck in her throat and she had to take another sip of beer to wash it down.

  After Brody finished off his meal and half of hers, they sat quietly listening to the crash of waves and a handful of children playing at the water’s edge.

  “I should probably call Grandpa.”

  “Andie, if anything was wrong, Errol would have called.”

  She hesitated before releasing a heavy sigh. “You’re right.”

  Brody pushed back his chair and threw some money on the table. “Let’s go inside and see if Katy’s busy.”

  Guilt struck with the impact of a fist to her gut. Andrea hadn’t kept in touch with Katy throughout the years. Hell. She had written everyone off but her grandfather. The only one she couldn’t dodge was Braydon. The libertine always had a way of slithering past her assistants.

  When they walked into the cozy restaurant, Brody chuckled. “Nothing changes. The green-eyed devil is up to his old ways.”