Hurricane Bride

by Beth Williamson

  Yes, yes, yes.

  She raised her knees, and he slid even farther into her. Claire’s heart thumped at the sheer perfection of being with Boyd. Her body was wound up so tight, she thought she might burst into a thousand pieces. When her second orgasm hit, her breath left her body, leaving her trembling.

  She vaguely remembered calling his name as she rode the waves of pleasure. He tightened his hold and slammed into her, restarting her ecstasy. A thousand years passed as she floated among the stars, clutching Boyd to her.

  “Wow.” He rolled off her, his voice hoarse.

  “More than that. So much more.” She found his hand and laced their fingers together.

  No matter what, Claire had found her sensuality was still there, improved from any experience she’d had with Richard. There was no comparison. Being with Boyd had been more than she had hoped for. Exquisite, life changing.

  She couldn’t wait to do it again.

  *

  Boyd was up before five and left the cottage before Claire woke. It wasn’t cowardice. He simply had to have some time to himself to think about what had happened the night before.

  The incredible, almost-life-changing sex that had left him weak-kneed and trembling. Boyd had been intimate with a number of women in his life, starting at age fifteen. His mother had been open about sex, making sure he was educated before he had his first experience.

  Nothing had prepared him for Claire. Perhaps it was because they had flirted for a couple weeks, letting the tension build. It was a flimsy excuse, and he knew it. Manny had warned him, and Boyd let the advice slide away.

  Now he was involved with a woman who was more than likely using him as a rebound relationship. For pity’s sake, she’d been engaged a few weeks earlier. He had no chance with her except to warm her bed until she moved on.

  Was he prepared to accept the limitation? Or was he going to walk away after one spectacular night of sex?

  He damn well didn’t know, and that bothered him more than he wanted it to. After walking aimlessly through the woods for an hour, he went to work on the fence over on the eastern side of the property. It was far from the main house and the cottage. His stomach yowled and grieved over the loss of the delicious breakfast that likely waited for him the kitchen.

  The kitchen where Claire was.

  Coward.

  Boyd wasn’t one to run away from confrontation or a difficult situation, so the fact he stayed away for another few hours confounded him. He was just countersinking the last screw when he heard someone calling his name.

  He looked up to find Manny stomping toward him, a dark scowl on his face. “Where have you been?”

  Boyd told himself not to blink. “With that rain yesterday I figured this section of the fence was in dang—”

  “Shut up and listen.” Manny put his hands on his hips. “I see much, but I don’t say much. You chose her and she chose you. Now you’re hiding while she needs you.”

  Boyd frowned. “That’s not your business, all respect to you, Manny. We’re two adults.”

  Manny waved one hand in the air. “You’re going to lose her, you idiot. The other man is here and he wants to take her away. From here. From us. From you.”

  “The other man?” Boyd’s gut did a somersault. “You mean the man she was supposed to marry?”

  “Yes, that idiot is here. You didn’t see what he did or how he humiliated her. He said he loved another woman while Claire stood in her wedding dress waiting to be his wife.” Manny’s anger was slow to boil but when it did, look out.

  Boyd hadn’t seen Claire’s humiliation, and he was glad he hadn’t or he might’ve ended up in jail. “Why is he here?”

  Manny shook his head. “To steal her away. Now go stop him before we lose her forever.”

  He didn’t remember moving, but Boyd found himself running through the yard toward the house. The sun beat down on him as he ran as though he was Hermes on winged feet.

  A huge black Mercedes was parked in the lot and Boyd growled at it. Of course, he’d have a fancy car. From what he’d determined, Claire’s ex-fiancé was wealthy. If Boyd had anything to say about it, the man would stay an ex.

  He skidded into the kitchen and banged into the island. He must’ve startled Pearl, because she dropped a pan of biscuits and shouted.

  “Lord have mercy, young man! Are you trying to give me heart palpitations?” She pressed one oven-gloved hand to her chest.

  “Sorry, Pearl. Where is she? Where is he?” He didn’t see anyone else nearby and his own heart was palpitating pretty damn fast.

  “They’re in the cottage talking.” She picked up the pan and set it on the cutting board. “You’d best not make a mess of this one.” Her seriousness made his heart sink.

  “She’s leaving with him?” He couldn’t let that happen.

  “No, but he’s sure as heck trying to convince her to. Mark my words, that man is bad news for our little Claire.” Pearl waved at him. “Go on and mark your territory.”

  He stopped and sniffed. “Speaking of marking, what is that? Sandalwood?” The scent pervaded the kitchen.

  Pearl frowned. “Yes, I believe so. That man must bathe in it.”

  Another reason to kick him off the property. No living person should wear that much cologne.

  He turned and then stopped to look down at his sweat- and dirt-stained shirt. “You got any fabric refresher? I’m sure I don’t want to know what I smell like.”

  “No, sir, not for you.” She set the potholders down and approached him. “When you fall for someone, it’s for better or worse. She needs to love you for who you are, and that includes the stink. Be yourself, Boyd.”

  He nodded. She was right. He worked with his hands, and he stank. It was part of who he was, and Claire already knew that side of him. It was now or never to convince her to stay.

  “What would I do without you?” He kissed her cheek, and she giggled.

  “Go on with you, then. Get your girl.” Her eyes were suspiciously bright when he left the kitchen. Pearl was good people. The very best, and someone his mother would have loved, too.

  When he burst into the cottage, the scent of sandalwood hit him again. Claire was sitting on the couch with a blond man. She leapt to her feet and wrung her hands, staring at him with wide, brown eyes.

  Boyd closed the door with a bang and surveyed his competition. The other man’s hair was slicked back with some kind of product. His shave was close enough it looked like a barber had worked on the man’s already prominent jaw and chin. He wore a perfectly pressed black three-piece suit with a bright blue tie and a pocket square of the same color. He was like a page from a men’s magazine.

  The ex-fiancé rose and stood behind Claire, putting his hands on her shoulders. Boyd didn’t realize the noise he heard was a growl from his throat. She moved away from the other man and took a step toward him. Thank God.

  “Boyd, I thought you were, ah, working.”

  “Came in for a break.” He crossed his arms and stared hard at the sandalwood covered interloper. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

  “Claire, who is this?” The other man spoke, his flat accent grating on the air.

  “Boyd Rowe. I live here.” He held out his dirty hand and waited.

  “Richard Crowder.” The dapper dude shook his hand, and Boyd wasn’t surprised to feel soft skin. Real men had calluses and worked for them. He squeezed a bit too tightly. “You’ve got quite a grip there, Rowe.”

  “So I can hang onto things better.” His grin was more a baring of the teeth.

  “That’s enough. Both of you.” Claire slapped at their hands until Boyd let go. “There’s to be no pissing contest here. Boyd, go wait for me in your room.”

  His brows went up, but he was pleased to see she was angry. Good. That meant maybe she was fighting for herself against this suave bully with the thousand-dollar suit.

  “Fine. I’ll be there.” He looked at Richard. “Waiting for you.” He kissed her cheek
and whispered. “Don’t let the sun go down on me.”

  Chapter Six

  ‡

  Emotions tumbled around inside Claire as she faced Richard. She never expected him to appear at the Peach Bellini and disrupt the world she’d become part of. He didn’t belong, and his very presence was an unwelcome dark cloud.

  She had been in a fog since she’d opened the back door, expecting Boyd and finding Richard. He’d more or less pushed his way in, telling her a sob story about making a mistake.

  Now they were in the cottage, the very place she’d rediscovered her sensuality and her strength. She resisted the urge to run like a coward and leave him there. Richard had controlled her for a long time, and old habits were hard to break. She couldn’t let him take away her security again.

  Then Boyd arrived. The look he gave her was possessive, primal, and it gave her back the courage to deal with Richard. Claire hadn’t had a bevy of boyfriends. Only two before she’d met Richard right after she graduated from college. Her experience was limited, and he was handsome, smart, and driven.

  Now she understood that he was all icing and no cake. She was about to put her past behind her and move forward.

  Richard scowled after Boyd’s retreating back. “Who is that?”

  “Were you not paying attention? His name is Boyd Rowe and he lives here.” She crossed her arms and straightened her shoulders. “You need to leave.”

  As was his standard behavior, Richard ignored her. “He’s dirty and stinks like a warthog. If that’s the type of person you’ve been associating with, I’d say I got here just in time. Pack your things. We can make dinner reservations at that Italian place you like on Peachtree.” He straightened his cuffs and sat back on the couch, but not before an expression of disgust crossed his face. “This couch isn’t very comfortable.”

  “I’m not leaving, Richard. You are.” She remained standing, her muscles tightening with each passing moment. “I like it here. I’m happy here.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I can get your job back at the agency, maybe a cut in pay, but a steady position.” He wasn’t accepting her decision, and that triggered a burst of anger.

  Claire walked over to the door and opened it. “Good-bye, Richard.”

  He blinked. “Pardon?”

  “Jesus Christ on a cracker. I’m not leaving. I’m staying. We’re done, and we’ve been done for a long time. I was just too blind to see it.” She gestured with her arm toward the door.

  Richard got to his feet. “You’re choosing this shit hole and that dirty gardener over me?”

  “No, I’m choosing me. I love it here, and it fits me a thousand times better than we ever did.” She waited, her stomach trembling but her will iron strong.

  “You won’t work in advertising again. I’ll make sure of it.” Of course he reverted to petty shit. That was what bullies did when confronted.

  “Whatever I decide to do, it won’t be decided by an asshole like you.” She had a taste of satisfaction when an expression of shock crossed his face. “Good-bye, Richard.”

  He walked out the door without another word. Claire slammed it behind him. The action and noise gave her an almost sexual satisfaction. It was a literal and figurative good-bye to who she’d been.

  Boyd poked his head out. “Is he gone?”

  She smiled at him. “Don’t let the sun go down on me?”

  His grin made her heart thump. “Remember, I heard you singing, and may I say you have a lovely voice.”

  Her cheeks heated. “I forgot about that.”

  “I heard ‘Yellow Rose of Texas’, too.” He walked toward her with that lean-hipped swagger and her body flushed with awareness. The man was sexy as hell, even dirty from the day’s labors.

  “We need to go back to work.” She didn’t move from her spot by the door.

  “We’ve got a few minutes, as long as you don’t mind kissing a man who smells like I do.” He leaned against the island.

  “You smell like hard work.” She moved closer to him. “Nothing wrong with that. Maybe you can tell me why you snuck out this morning.” Finding the bed empty, the sheets cool, had hurt her more than she expected. Not that she wanted a declaration of undying love, but their encounter last night had been the best she’d ever had. If she were a romantic, she might have even called it life-altering.

  He looked down at his muddy boots. “I got spooked.”

  “Fair enough. Does that mean you don’t want to go any further?” She really, really hoped he didn’t retreat for good. Claire wanted to continue on the journey with Boyd and see where it led.

  “No, that’s not what I want. I definitely want to go further.” He opened his arms, and she walked into them.

  When his strength surrounded her, she breathed in his earthy scent and realized she preferred that to Richard’s overpowering sandalwood. That was a revelation and a relief all in one. They embraced for a few minutes, not speaking, simply being. She needed this.

  She needed him.

  “Good, because I wasn’t done exploring you.” She kissed his salty neck. “Now, you need to go back to work, and I have to go rescue Pearl from her biscuit experimentation.”

  “Later on, we’re going to take a basket of food and go for a ride on the horses.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m proud of you.”

  “I didn’t know he would come here. He looked like a penguin in the tropics, uncomfortable and out of place.” She wasn’t completely free of her tumbling emotions about the last three years of her life, but she was on the road to recovery. And it felt damn good.

  “I’m glad you chose to stay.” Boyd cupped her face and kissed her, a whisper of touch.

  “Me, too. I don’t know where we’re going, but I’m ready for an adventure.” Claire stepped back. “I need to get back to the kitchen.”

  The knock at the door startled both of them.

  “It’s only been ten minutes. Do you think he forgot his pocket square?” Boyd snickered.

  “Claire? Are you in there?” The familiar—and angry—voice cut through the silence.

  “Who is it?” Boyd’s brows were drawn together.

  She sighed. “My twin brother, Kyle.”

  “Well, shit.”

  *

  Boyd told himself Claire’s brother was there because he loved her. That didn’t make it any easier to stare down the big man. He had brown hair and whiskey-colored eyes so much like his sister. The man, however, was massive. A big Texan who, with his arms crossed, resembled a brick wall.

  They were back in the kitchen of the Peach Bellini and Pearl was fussing over her “new” cousin. The only bit of satisfaction Boyd had was that the other man looked uncomfortable with all the attention.

  “I hope you’ll stay for a spell.” Pearl set a plate of pastries at the table between them, and Kyle’s eyes lit up. It appeared he had a weakness for baked goods.

  “Can’t.” Kyle’s gaze landed on Claire, who was busy chopping vegetables near the sink. “I’m here to bring my sister home.”

  The Texas twang echoed in the high ceilinged kitchen. The sister in question scowled at him.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I like it here, and I’m going to stay.” She waved a celery stalk in the air and pointed it at her brother. “I texted you I was fine. You didn’t need to come.”

  “I did. Family is family.” He snatched a pecan sticky bun and polished it off in two bites. Boyd was impressed.

  “I’ll come home to visit, but I’m staying in Atlanta. This is where I belong.” Claire scooped up the vegetable chunks and put them in the pot on the counter. “I have family here.”

  Kyle glanced at the older woman. “I’m glad to know Pearl is here, but Mama is worried for you. So are Hannah and Amber. They browbeat me into coming after you.”

  At this, Claire’s brows went up and she walked over to her brother. “Hannah and Amber, huh? Since when are you and Amber friends?” She sat down beside Boyd on the other side of the table from Kyle.
“Hannah is my cousin, and Amber is a good friend of mine.”

  “She got burned, Claire.” Kyle’s expression was fierce. “An arsonist set the coffee shop on fire.”

  “Oh my God.” Claire’s face blanched. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “It happened right about the time that hurricane hit and then the wedding, or not wedding. Amber made me promise not to tell you.” Kyle wouldn’t meet his sister’s gaze, which told Boyd there was more there between the big man and the barista. “When you decided to stay here, we all got worried.”

  Claire reached across and took his hand in hers. “I love that you were worried about me enough to take time off work.”

  He shrugged one big shoulder. “I had about four months of vacation I haven’t used.”

  “Four months? Where do you work?” Boyd couldn’t help but ask.

  “I’m a deputy sheriff.” Kyle’s short military style haircut and musculature wasn’t just for show. “Haven’t taken a day off.”

  “In a while?” Boyd loved his job but he also loved days off.

  “Ever.”

  Well, then. Her brother was as serious as a heart attack and seemingly just as fun. She has been pretty damn serious when she arrived, too. Maybe the Blackwoods were serious people.

  “How is Amber? Is she in the hospital?” Claire was, of course, concerned for her friend.

  “Not anymore. She’s staying with Hannah until she gets stronger. I have a letter from her.” He cocked one thumb at the door. “It’s in the rental car.”

  Claire darted out the door and Boyd realized Pearl had vanished as well. Leaving him with the deputy sheriff from Texas who could probably pound him into next week if he wanted.

  “My sister was engaged a month ago.” Kyle’s cop deadpan expression was damn good. Scary good.

  “I met him. He’s an asshole.” Boyd helped himself to a pastry and took a big bite.

  “She’s living in a cottage with you.”

  “She’s a grown woman.”