Fragile Things (Folkestone Sins Book 1)

by Samantha Lovelock

  “For the record, I’ve never felt like this before, Star.” He pauses and sighs. “I’ve never needed anybody, until you.”

  Feeling tears prick behind my eyes, I turn in his lap to face him and run my thumbs over the angles of his jaw.

  “I need you too, Poe Alexander Halliday.” The pad of his thumb is gentle as he runs it over my bottom lip, and he leans in to kiss me until my breathing starts to quicken again. He hardens against my thigh, and as I wrap my hand around him and slowly stroke him to near-panting, my mouth slides next to his ear. “This is the first time we’ve been intimate that hasn’t involved a bathroom.”

  “Funny you should mention that. There’s a tiny one in the cabin below deck. You interested?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and we both start laughing before he pushes me onto my back again and starts to kiss his way down my stomach, stopping just above my pubic bone. “No more bathrooms, Star. No more hiding how I feel about you from anybody.” With that, the flat of his tongue finds my clit and starts working me toward my second orgasm of the night.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lying here, cuddled up in a blanket with Poe, curled against his side and floating under the stars, is heaven. My entire body is relaxed and soft, the comfort so sweet I don’t ever want to leave it.

  “Star?” The way he says his nickname for me like it’s made of honey and sin, sends delicious shivers across my skin just as much as the fingers he runs over my shoulder and down my back.

  “Hmmmm?” I murmur back, not wanting to break whatever magic is woven around us quite yet.

  “Can I show you something?”

  “I think you’ve already shown me plenty, but if you feel the need to show me again, I suppose I can live with that.” Smiling against his chest, I slide my hand over the dips and planes of his abs, and down to the smooth skin of his already hardening cock. A hum of pleasure escapes him as he presses his face into my hair.

  “Yes. So much yes, you naughty girl.” Moving my head to get a better angle, I playfully bite his nipple and grin at his sharp intake of breath. “But first, I really do want to show you something.” My curiosity is piqued by the subtle seriousness in his tone, and I push up on one elbow.

  “What is it? Is something wrong?”

  “No, not wrong. There’s something I think you should have.” Sitting up, he kisses my forehead gently before slipping out of our makeshift bed and padding over to his black bag in the cockpit. Watching him move smoothly through the moonlight with complete confidence is an incredibly intoxicating experience for me. When he turns back toward me, an envelope and a small LED lantern clutched in his hand, he catches me staring. Wearing nothing but a sexy little grin, he plays up his swagger on his way back to our little nest, stopping to pose a few times and making me laugh.

  “You need to do that more often. Laugh, I mean. I swear to God, it’s one of the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard, all throaty and rich.” He climbs back in beside me and nuzzles the side of my neck.

  “One of the sexiest sounds? What are the others, and who do they belong to?” I give him my best scowling face, and that makes him chuckle.

  “They’re all you, no need to get jealous.” He winks, and I snort. “What? Don’t believe me? There’s that sound you make when the stud in my tongue catches your nipple just right.” He tugs the blanket down to demonstrate. “Then, there’s the other one that happens when I slip my finger between your pussy lips, just before I circle your clit.” Clamping my hand over my mouth, I clench my teeth and try in vain to avoid making any sound at all as he does precisely what he described. “Oh, and then there’s my favorite one; the way my name sounds when you moan it just as you start to come.” His voice is a low purr, and when he talks like this, I can’t think about anything except how much I crave him. Shoving his face away playfully, I pull the blanket back up and swat at his roving hand.

  “You said you wanted to show me something, so show me, Halliday.”

  “Fine.” He pouts. “You’re no fun.”

  “You know exactly how much fun I am, jackass. If you ever want to experience it again, get on with the show-and-tell, already.” My threat is complete bullshit, but he pretends to take it seriously and sits up beside me.

  “So obviously somebody has explained some of the history of this town to you because you know about the Heirs.” I nod, and he continues. “My dad came home early from a business trip. He never comes home early, and he’s rarely there at all anymore.” He pauses. “I think he came back because of you.” He runs his hand through his dark hair, leaving bits of it standing in tousled, spiky disarray.

  “Because of me? He’s never even heard of me.” A chill races across my naked flesh that has nothing to do with the air temperature, but Poe notices and goes back to his black bag. Pulling two hoodies and a pair of joggers from it, he stops to flick on the low interior lighting and retrieves our underwear on his way back.

  Grateful he thought to throw some clothes into his bag when we stopped at his place earlier, I pull on the soft white sweatshirt he hands me, burying my nose in the fabric briefly to inhale his scent and watch as he gets dressed. Blatantly ogling him while he slips into his black boxer briefs, I’m wholly stunned this gorgeous human wants to be with me.

  “Stop looking at me like that, Bradleigh, or those panties you’ve just put on are coming right back off again.” He licks his lips, and I roll my eyes. His response is to throw his joggers at my head, and I catch them with ease. “Put those on so you stop being so fucking tempting.” I quickly wiggle into them, cinch the drawstring, and fold the waistband down a couple of times to keep them up. Poe slides his school pants back on and comes to sit cross-legged next to me. He studies me in silence for a minute like he’s committing every inch of my face to memory.

  “Poe, you’re starting to freak me out a little. What’s going on?” I start nibbling on my left thumbnail.

  “I’m pretty sure my dad has heard of you. Or at least the abstract idea of you.” He hands me the greeting card-sized envelope.

  Did it have to be another envelope? The only thing better than an envelope at turning my life inside out and upside down is a box. He better not have a fucking box hidden around here somewhere.

  Taking a deep breath to push back the creeping panic, I open the unsealed back flap and pull out a photo. Angling it slightly to see it better in the light of the lantern, I immediately recognize my mother, about my age, and holding the hand of a boy who looks an awful lot like Poe.

  “What is this?” I squint at the details in the picture. “Are those the front steps at Woodington? Is that your dad?”

  “It’s all of our parents, one for each of us. The Heirs from the generation before us.”

  I’m too shocked to speak, and suddenly the quiet around us is broken by the opening chords of ‘Season of The Flood’ by Alexisonfire—Payne’s chosen ringtone that he also happily associated with his number on my own phone. Poe gets up to answer it, leaving me to stare at my mother, young and happy, none of the fear or sadness I watched her carry reflected in her eyes.

  “Star, we have to go. Now.” In a frenzy, Poe grabs for my hand, taking the photo from me in the process and planting me solidly in the seat next to the wheel. Stuffing the blanket and the lantern back in the bag, along with my school uniform and his button-down, he carefully tucks the picture of our parents in between the folds of my school shirt and tugs on his hoodie. Seeing the fear written plainly on my face, he quickly leans in and kisses me once, hard, on the lips.

  Weighing anchor, he fires the engines to life, and we roar back to the marina, the wind whipping the tears from my eyes before they have a chance to fall.

  Once back at the yacht club, he quickly ties the lines and practically drags me off the boat, pulling me down the dock behind him by one hand, while I try to slip my shoes on with the other without actually stopping. My foot tangles in the extra length of Poe’s joggers, and I trip, falling on my ass and wrenching my hand from his grip. Sw
iping at my frustrated tears with the back of my hand, I tug my shoes on and roll onto my hands and knees to push myself up.

  Everything goes sideways as I stare unblinkingly at the stern of the Halliday family boat.

  “Poe?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “Star, come on. I’m sorry, beautiful, but we have to go.” He comes back to me and reaches down to pull me to my feet. I resist and try my voice again.

  “Poe.” Something in my voice stops him.

  “What? Come on. What’s the matter?” This time I let him pull me up, and I swing my eyes to his, pointing with my free arm at the elegant script on the stern.

  “Why is your boat named ‘Evangeline’?” My teeth clench against the vomit rising in my throat.

  “What?” He looks confused for a split second like he can’t figure out what I’m asking him. “Evangeline was my grandmother—my dad’s mom.” I can feel all the blood drain from my face, inch by inch, as I slowly step back from Poe.

  “Star? What the hell? Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” He takes a step toward me, and I take another one back. “Star?” Tears stream down my cheeks, hot and bitter.

  “My middle name is Evangeline. That photo of our parents.” My throat burns. “Are we…?” The surprise that registers on his face when he hears that tidbit of information is real, that much I’m sure of.

  “Really?” The corners of his mouth turn up in a small, thoughtful smile. “My grandparents would have liked you a lot,” he muses.

  “Halliday!” I all but yell. “What in the holy fuck is going on? Answer my question, or I’m not going anywhere with you. Ever!” The wind kicks up off the water, making the boats moored around us bob and sway, almost as if in support of my stance. Tilting his head back and taking a deep breath, he’s silent for a few seconds before returning his focus on me.

  “No. We aren’t.” At those words, relief floods through me, and I feel like I can swallow again. “The night my dad came home, the same night he gave me that photo, he also voiced his approval of you and me. The next morning, he encouraged me to make it right with you, and not to let anybody come between us.” He takes a step forward, and this time I don’t retreat. Grabbing both of my hands, he holds them tightly between us, locking his eyes with mine. “He wouldn’t have done that if there was even a chance that we…” I nod, accepting his logic. “I’ll tell you everything else I know, but we really need to go, so can we please go get the damn car now?”

  By the time we get to the valet and the car is pulled around, another ten minutes pass, and Poe’s restless anxiety is amplifying my own. Once we’re on the road, flying down the dark streets, I realize we’re heading back toward his place.

  “Spill it. What’s going on?” Glancing at my phone, I see it’s almost eleven o’clock. “It’s late, Poe. What did Payne say?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know why they decided to do this now.” He takes the turn into his driveway fast and sharp, rocking me against the passenger door, and brakes hard in front of his house. The first thing I notice is the number of cars parked in the area next to the massive garage; the second is how many of them I recognize.

  Sunday’s Rover.

  Raff’s new Porsche.

  My aunt’s Cadillac.

  My aunt’s Cadillac?

  Some people get hangry, but me? I get pangry. When I start getting a little too freaked out, the panic bleeds into anger, and it tends to make me yell. And cuss. A lot.

  “Halliday!” I bark. “Why is my aunt at your fucking house? Why are the other Heirs here? Is this some kind of a lynch mob? Because it feels a little late on a school night for a goddamn party!” My chest rising and falling quickly with my shallow breaths, I fling open my door and jump out, ready to punch some motherfuckers in the head if I need to.

  Shaking his head and laughing under his breath, Poe gets out and comes around to my side of the car.

  “Has anybody ever told you you’re sexy as hell when you’re pissed, Bradleigh?” Seething silence is my only response, and he quickly realizes that I’m not fucking around. “Okay, here’s the deal,” he says soberly. “Payne called to tell me to get you here. There was a meeting about the Heirs tonight, which wasn’t unexpected. You’re back now, so our parents, and your aunt, need to make sure all their little chess pieces are where they’re supposed to be. My father mentioned earlier that he wanted to have you formally introduced as the Bradleigh Heir as soon as possible. It would have been nice if he mentioned it was going to be tonight, though.” He rolls his shoulders to loosen some of his own tension. “What is unexpected is that the Torstens are here. If this meeting is about the Heirs, they have no stake in the game. Payne said they’re causing some kind of shit, and we needed to get back here.”

  “The Torstens? As in Hali?” My brows raise in surprise.

  “Yeah.” Reaching out, he threads his fingers through mine and lifts our joined hands to his lips, kissing my knuckles softly. “You ready for this, killer?” He asks with a wink.

  “Probably not, but what the hell. Let’s go.” Squeezing his hand tightly, I follow him straight into my nightmare.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The scene that greets us in the formal living room of Poe’s large glass and wood house can only be described as controlled chaos, voices all talking over each other. Tightening my grip on his hand, I let him lead me into the room, and the effect our arrival has on the occupants inside is immediate.

  Sunday and the girls get up, and each gives me a big hug, Sunday attaching herself to my left side and hooking her arm through mine. The guys get up to join Poe, Raff dropping a kiss on my head as he walks in front of me.

  “Sun, this is weird,” I say in hushed tones. “Should I be afraid? Why are you guys all here?” She hugs my arm tighter to her side briefly but doesn’t answer me, reluctantly letting go as she backs up slightly to stand with Roxy and Aylie, leaving Poe and I front and center. Poe stands strong and tall beside me, his thumb softly rubbing slow circles in my palm in a small, but emotionally intimate gesture that makes my heart squeeze.

  Scanning the adults in the room, I recognize bits of my friends’ faces in their respective parents, and I see my aunt standing with a man who looks so much like Poe, it can only be his father. The welcoming smiles on most of the faces, as well as Cecily’s proud beaming one, all help me feel slightly less like I’m standing in front of a firing squad.

  The elder Halliday leans down to say something to Cecily that has her cutting her bright blue-green eyes to the woman I just now notice standing slightly behind the large main group.

  The woman in the window.

  A martini glass filled with something resembling dirty dishwater is clutched in her red-tipped claws. With her is Hali, her hatred for me darkening her pretty features and twisting her lips into an ugly shape, and two other people I can only assume are Mr. and Mrs. Torsten.

  The woman is small and elegantly beautiful but nervous and hesitant, sitting with her hands folded carefully in her lap. Her slight head tilt allows her hair to fall forward and partially obscure her face, and her shoulders hunch forward in a self-protective way.

  I know that position well; I grew up with it.

  If she dared to look me in the eyes, the fear written in hers would echo my mother’s.

  The man standing just in front of her exudes a cruel arrogance, and she subtly flinches every time he moves. Everything from the harsh slash of his thin lips, to his small eyes, set just a little too closely together, screams for attention. Right now, those beady little fucking eyes are roving over me with a familiarity that makes me want to take a shower, but I raise my chin and stare back defiantly.

  All of a sudden, I remember that I’m standing in front of these people for the very first time, in what are obviously not my own clothes, hair windblown, and wearing next to no makeup, most of which had been rubbed off during sexy times on the boat.

  Oh my God. Can everybody tell we just had sex? Do I have ‘I just
had a toe-curling orgasm! Ask me how!’ written all over my face?

  Feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment, I’m just about to ask Poe where the nearest bathroom is when his father and Cecily approach us.

  “Thanks for coming home for this. We wanted to introduce Stella to everybody tonight. How are you, son?” He clasps Poe’s shoulder in greeting, and takes a sip of his scotch, the caramel-tinted liquid rolling smoothly in the short glass. “Payne mentioned you took Stella here out on the Riva this afternoon. Did you two have fun?” Father and son both seem to be having a tough time keeping a straight face right now, their eyes twinkling, and the corners of their mouths twitching almost in unison.

  Oh yeah. He knows EXACTLY what happened this afternoon. Well, that’s fucking mortifying, isn’t it?

  Squeezing my now sweaty palm, almost like he can feel my need to bolt from this shitshow, Poe allows his face to break into a grin.

  “Dad, I’d like you to meet Stella Bradleigh. My girlfriend.” I look up at him in surprise, and he smiles insolently down at me, almost daring me to challenge his statement. Rolling my eyes, I look back to his father with a bold smile.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Halliday. You must be the one with both the brains and the looks in the family. Your son may be pretty, but he clearly lacks in smarts as he’s just announced that I’m his girlfriend without first asking me if I’m interested in the position.” Poe’s father roars with laughter, and my aunt coughs delicately to cover her snicker.

  “You’re not wrong, Stella,” he jokes. Holding out a hand for me to shake, a wash of sadness passes over his handsome face briefly before he manages to tuck it away again. “Please, call me Holt. And I have to say, you remind me so much of your mother. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”