Her House Divided (Beach Haven Book 1)

by Goode, A. J.

  "Tara?" he called.

  No answer.

  He tapped on her door, but there was still no answer. Carefully, he pushed the door open.

  Tara sat on the edge of the bed, still wearing the wet sundress. She had the same vacant look in her eyes; she didn't seem to notice that he had entered her bedroom.

  He called her name again, gently. She didn't move. He crossed the room quickly and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his.

  They were like ice.

  "Tara!" he said, more sharply this time. "Snap out of it. You're safe. You're home."

  She drew a deep, shuddering breath. She blinked rapidly and focused on him.

  "You mind telling me what the hell just happened out there?" he demanded. "It was just a tree branch, for God's sake. It missed us. No big deal. We're fine."

  "The other one didn't miss," she said.

  "What?"

  "I was driving home from work last May," she told him. "It was a storm just like this one. Came up out of nowhere, all of a sudden. A tree . . . a tree just . . . fell, right over. I tried to stop . . . I tried so hard, I swear I held that brake pedal down just as hard as I could and I prayed and I tried to turn the wheel, but . . . it hit so hard and I couldn't move."

  "Wait a minute. A tree fell on your car? With you in it?" Dear God, no wonder she had freaked out tonight.

  "It was on me. It crushed in the roof of my car and rolled forward, through the windshield. I couldn't move. I couldn't call for help or get out or do anything, and it hurt so much. I had to just sit there and wait. When the fire department finally got there, it took them another forty minutes to cut the tree and the car apart to get me out."

  "Sean was one of the firefighters, wasn't he?"

  She nodded. "He climbed inside the wreck and held my head steady while they did the extrication. I broke my neck, Ethan. If not for Sean climbing in there and keeping me still, I would probably be paralyzed or ... or worse."

  "You . . .broke your neck?"

  "C-7/T-1 fracture." Tara sat up straighter and recited the facts as though lecturing a class. "A compression fracture of the CranioThoracic Junction with damage to the left facet joints and resulting nerve damage to the left hand. Two of the fingers on that hand are completely numb. They say I'm lucky that my spinal cord wasn't damaged, but I don't always feel so lucky. It's hard to feel lucky when I'll never be normal again."

  "My God."

  "No, no, no, please don't look at me like that!" She put her hands on both sides of his face and forced him to look directly at her. "Don't feel sorry for me, Ethan. It's bad enough being a cripple without being pitiful, too."

  "Your boyfriend –"

  "Walked away when I came out of surgery. He broke off our engagement because he said he just couldn't be married to a cripple, and who could blame him?"

  I could, Ethan thought. It was a lucky thing he hadn't known about Randy's desertion when he had seen him at the fair earlier that day.

  "Of course he wouldn't want me like this. Nobody would."

  "I would." Ethan was suddenly very aware of just how close he was to her, of her hands on his face. He was still kneeling in front of her, and he noticed the way the damp dress clung to her body, outlining her nipples that suddenly seemed to strain against the fabric.

  "You should get out of that wet dress," he murmured.

  "I should?"

  He nodded. He reached up and carefully slipped the strap off her right shoulder, then her left. She slid her hands from his face and onto his chest. For a moment he thought she was going to push him away, but then she curled her fingers into his t-shirt and drew him closer.

  One by one, he undid the buttons on the bodice of her dress and stood, pulling her to her feet in front of him. The damp cotton slid to the floor, leaving her in only her strapless bra and panties.

  "Better?" he asked.

  She nodded. The lacy blue bra was one of those front-buckle numbers, and he made quick work of the flimsy buckle.

  "Even better," she whispered.

  He cupped her breasts in his hands and dipped his head to take a nipple in his mouth, first one, then the other. She smelled of roses, tasted of warm summer breezes and fresh air. He slid one hand down her back to clasp her firm, round behind and pull her up tightly against him so she could feel that it was better for him as well.

  She gasped.

  He pulled away and looked into her eyes. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.

  "Only when you stopped," she told him breathlessly.

  Chapter Ten

  “I’m not that fragile,” Tara breathed. “Don’t treat me like a china doll.”

  Ethan hesitated.

  She took a step back and tried to cover herself with her arms. She was a fool, she realized. A damn fool. Of course he hadn’t really wanted her. How many times did she have to hear it, how many men had to reject her before she finally understood that no one would ever find her desirable again?

  She turned away from him, gasping when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. Without saying a word, he gently brushed her hair to the side and exposed her bare back.

  “Don’t—“

  “Shhh.” She felt his lips brush against the scars, trailing upwards from her back to her neck. She shivered at warmth of his touch against her damaged, sensitive skin, but didn’t pull away from him.

  His kisses moved to her neck and along her jaw as he slowly turned her to face him.

  “Ethan, I—“

  He claimed her lips, swallowing her words. His tongue probed against hers and explored the darkest recesses of her mouth. Tentatively, she met it with her own while his hands plunged into her still-damp curls and pulled her closer, ever closer.

  She arched against him, needing to feel the full length of his body against hers. He responded by sliding his hands down and lifting her to the edge of the bed where she had been sitting only a few moments earlier. A moan escaped her lips as he broke away from her lips and began trailing warm, wet kisses down her neck, into the hollows of her throat, between her breasts.

  She clutched at the front of his shirt, bringing him closer as he leaned her back on the quilt. He grinned.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Tara,” he told her.

  She loved the way her name sounded when he said it. He cupped her breasts in his hands and ran his thumbs across her hardened nipples, making her groan. He brushed his tongue across one of the nipples, then the other, swirling slow, wet circles on her sensitive flesh. She quivered, wanting more. Needing more.

  His lips and tongue moved downward, over her stomach. He slid his fingers around the elastic of her blue bikini panties and tugged them down.

  The first touch of his mouth on her delicate core made her spasm with delight. He pushed her legs apart and explored every part of her, teasing, stroking with his fingers and tongue until she thought she was ready to explode. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any more intense, he seized her hips and raised her to meet him so he could probe even deeper.

  Shuddering, she cried out as his touch took her over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure took hold of her body, and she wondered briefly about neighbors or beachgoers hearing her cries of ecstasy—thoughts she quickly dismissed as a worry to postpone until another time and place.

  She came back to Earth slowly, already wanting more from Ethan. She sat up and slipped her hands inside his shirt, feeling the smooth planes of his muscular chest. “It’s really not fair that I’m the only one who’s naked here,” she murmured.

  “It’s not?”

  “Not at all.”

  “We should change that, then.” Ethan told her, tugging his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor.

  Tara ran her fingers around his waistband, fumbling at the button for a moment. She fought down the flash of impatience at the fingers that didn’t work right, wanting desperately to forget about her own failings for at least this one night. When he tried to help, she pushed his ha
nds away.

  “You don’t have to –“ he started.

  “I want to.” She triumphed over the button and zipper and pushed his shorts out of the way. Seconds later, he was a naked as she was, and she could see him in all of his fully erect glory.

  She slid off the edge of the bed and lowered herself to her knees in front of him, wrapping her hand around his shaft. Tentatively, she touched the tip with her tongue. He wrapped his fingers in her hair again as she explored the full length of him with her hands and mouth until he, too, was quivering.

  “Tara, I need to be in you,” he growled.

  “Do you have any—“

  “Be right back.” He hurried to his own room and returned with a foil packet. “Always be prepared,” he said.

  She chuckled and then there was suddenly nothing to laugh at when he lifted her to the bed and pressed his body against hers, devouring her mouth with his. This time, his kiss wasn’t tentative. She could feel his need for her and knew that it matched her own need for him.

  He shifted his weight and guided her hands as she helped him put the condom on. Saying her name again, he parted her legs and touched his tip to her swollen entrance; she wrapped her legs around him and tried to pull him closer.

  “So wet,” he whispered.

  His moves were tentative, cautious. Teasing her. Just when she thought she might explode again, he thrust into her, taking her back to the edge almost immediately. She arched, raising her hips to meet him and taking him even deeper inside. He moaned and thrust again and again until she cried out his name as the sensation overtook her once more. She felt his shuddering release and then he sagged against her, kissing her more gently this time.

  They lay together in silence as their breathing returned to normal. Tara snuggled against him and stared at the streaks of reddish light of the sunset reflecting off the surface of the lake and sliding down her wall. She felt strangely shy about what had just happened, unsure of what to say or do next.

  “’Red sky at night, sailor’s delight’,” Ethan intoned solemnly, also glancing at the dimming light against the wall.

  She burst out laughing. Turning to face him, she saw that he was leaning on one elbow and grinning at her. “’Sailor’s delight’?” she echoed. “And are you a sailor, Ethan? Because that was delightful.”

  “Just thinking about the meaning of that old saying,” he said. “It’s supposed to mean that the next day will be clear and sunny, good weather. And I was just thinking that I don’t care about tomorrow’s weather because I don’t plan on sleeping much tonight.” He trailed his fingertips along her arm and leaned forward to blow a soft breath across her nipples, which hardened again almost immediately.

  “You know the other half of the saying?” she asked. “’Red sky at morning, sailor take warning’.”

  “What are you warning me about, Tara?”

  She said nothing, only smiled back at him. She wasn’t sure how to handle his playful banter; Randy had always been quick to move away from her after their lovemaking, and this closeness with Ethan was something unexpected.

  That wasn’t the only thing about him that was unexpected, she reflected, feeling her face grow warm as she thought about everything that had taken place between them.

  “Are you blushing?” He demanded, chuckling. “You’re going to get all shy on me now?”

  She laughed again then and raised her head to kiss him again. “You know what I want now?” she asked, twining her fingers in his chest hair and giving him her most seductive look.

  “Hmm?” There was a definite waver to his voice that she chose to take as a compliment.

  She lowered her voice to a whisper and uttered one word. “Supper.”

  “Worked up an appetite, eh? I could order a pizza. Of course, we’d have to find a way to entertain ourselves while we wait for the delivery guy.”

  She wondered if they both had the same suggestions for that.

  * * *

  Ethan awoke the next morning, slightly disoriented by the warm presence of a woman in the bed next to him. He blinked as memory flooded back, and he smiled at the sight of her wildly tousled hair splayed out on the pillow near him. Fatigue had claimed her long before it had overtaken him, but not before they had spent the long hours of the evening together, first in her room and then in his.

  He thought about slipping out of the bed and letting her sleep, but then remembered her admonition about not treating her “like a china doll”. If she were any other woman instead of a woman recovering from serious injuries, he reasoned, he wouldn’t be worried about how much sleep she needed. He would be touching her here and stroking her there in hopes of waking her—

  Her breathing changed, doing all sorts of wonderful things to the breast he was teasing. She stirred.

  “Good morning,” he said softly.

  “Mmmm,” she agreed.

  They made love again, slowly this time, taking their time to fully enjoy each other’s bodies in the bright light of the morning sun. Ethan’s room faced the beach; the humidity was gone and the breeze coming through the window felt cool and moist. In the distance, they could hear the pounding of the surf on the shore.

  “The Lake sounds wild,” she said drowsily.

  He smiled. His grandmother would have said that “her” Lake was boiling on a day like this. As a teen, he would have been out there at the first hint of daylight, flinging himself into the waves for a bit of body-surfing while Bea stood on shore and bellowed at him to get the out of the water. By the time he finally dragged his exhausted, battered body to shore and followed her meekly to the Seashell, he would feel both depleted and invigorated.

  Not unlike the way he felt at the moment, he reflected.

  “What are you thinking about?” Tara asked. “You’re a million miles away.”

  “Just listening to the waves. Wondering if I’m too old to body-surf.”

  “Mmm. If you have to ask, then you probably are.”

  “Hey!”

  She laughed at the offended look on his face. He tried to think of a good comeback, but was spared when the phone began to ring. He leaned across her body to reach the phone on his bedside table.

  “Ethan? It’s Ben Jacobs. Do you think you and Tara could come see me today in my office?” The lawyer’s voice sounded agitated.

  “Sure. What’s going on?”

  “It’s Jacqueline. She’s filed a motion to contest the will.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Just as I suspected, Jacqueline is claiming that Beatrice Ahrend was senile and under Tara’s influence when she made up her new will last May,” Ben told them. “If she can prove it, we will have to revert back to the previous will, which divides everything between Jacqueline and Ethan.”

  “And if that happens?” Tara asked. “Will she have the legal right to force Ethan to sell his share?”

  “I’m afraid so. As part-owner of the home, Jacqueline would have every right to force a sale so that she could have access to any money earned by that sale. In that situation, Ethan would have to agree to sell the property unless he could come up with enough to buy out Jacqueline’s share, according to the appraised value of the property.”

  Ethan watched her slump back in the plush brown chair, avoiding his eyes. Ben looked back and forth between them and frowned.

  “Of course, if the two of you had plans to sell the property, this means that those plans must be put on hold until the matter of the will is settled,” He told them. “I wouldn’t be too concerned, if I were you. The burden of proof is on her, and her only argument against Bea’s state of mind is that Bea told several people – including me – that the two of you were engaged when it apparently wasn’t true. Wishful thinking for a happy couple, or delusional behavior brought on by senility?”

  “But we—“ Ethan started, but Ben held up a hand to stop him.

  “Don’t. I see two attractive young people who just walked in here hand-in-hand, very obviously in love with each other. The
love bite on your neck helps with that impression, Ethan, although you might be in a whole different kind of trouble if you wear one after school starts back up.” Ben leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, and grinned at them. “As far as I am concerned, you two acted like strangers the day of the reading of the will out of a shared concern for your ex-wife’s feelings. You weren’t quite ready to reveal to her that you had already moved on.”

  “Now, Tara, she is using your financial situation as proof that you had a motive for trying to get into Bea’s will. And the fact that most of your bills were incurred after the date of her stroke, makes it look as though you started spending like crazy as soon as you thought she would pass away soon. It doesn’t look good.”

  Tara’s chin came up to a determined little point. “I can explain every single one of those bills,” she stated. “I was in a car accident on May 22 and most of the bills are medical ones. The rest are just my day-to-day expenses and bills that fell behind because I haven’t been able to work.”

  “Did you have medical insurance?”

  “No. I know that was stupid, but I worked in a five-chair salon, on a commission basis. Hairdressers don’t usually get medical insurance through work.”

  “You had car insurance? Full coverage?”

  Tara nodded.

  Ben looked annoyed. “Did they pay out on anything?”

  “No. They said it was an “Act of God” and wasn’t covered.”

  “Would you mind giving me the name of your insurance agent? I’d like a word with him.”

  Tara hesitated. “I—can’t afford—“ she stammered, but the attorney waved aside her objection.

  “Don’t worry, Tara,” he said. “I’m just going to make a phone call on behalf of a friend. Who just happens to be involved with another friend of mine, right?”

  Doubtfully, she gave him the information. He jotted it down and set the piece of paper aside, then leaned forward to give them both a long, serious look.

  “Bea Ahrend was one of my favorite clients,” he said, after a moment of silence. “I don’t believe for a second that her mind was anything less than sharp, right up to the day she died. But I also know that she was a sly, manipulative old bat when she wanted to be, and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if she really set this whole thing up as a way of bringing you two together.”