Barefoot Bay_Sweet Surrender

by Gail Chianese

  “I thought I was too rough.”

  “Not even close.”

  He’d have to store that info away for a later time. “Then what’s the matter? More business is good, right?”

  She sat up and tried to pull her feet back, but he held on and kept massaging. Not only did her feet hide the bulge in his shorts, he didn’t want to let go. He liked having Caty in his hands.

  “No, it’s great to get more orders, but Mandy can’t support me. There’s just not enough business on Mimosa to support two bakeries.”

  “What about the goat farm thing with the birthday parties?” He hadn’t planned on bringing up business tonight, had wanted nothing more than to lose himself in Caty’s arms, but he didn’t like seeing her unhappy.

  “It’s good, but again not steady and they won’t be ready to add any new food venues inside the stadium until next year. I need to move on to Plan B.”

  “Before you do anything drastic, I think I have a solution.” He held up his hand. “Just hear me out first. Come work for me—”

  She was already shaking her head. “Ian, no.”

  “You’re not even going to hear my proposition?”

  “I’d rather hear a different kind, but go ahead.” She’d managed to free her feet and now had them tucked underneath her sweet, round butt with her arms crossed below her breast, pushing them up. It was enough to drive a good man to distraction and Ian never claimed to be good.

  “We’ll save that one for later. Let’s talk weddings—cakes, to be exact. I hate baking wedding cakes.”

  She tilted her head. “Is that why you left LA?”

  “No, but it helped. The job at The Sweet Spot would be part-time, so you’d still have time to run CatyCakes. You handle the wedding cakes. I get time to bake the stuff I want. It’d be a win-win for both of us.”

  “No, but thank you,” she said.

  “Caty, be practical. Mimosa isn’t big enough to support both of us.” Damn it, why couldn’t she see how this was the best solution?

  She tilted her head, studying him. “Why did you leave LA?”

  “Lots of reasons. Tired of the long hours. Tired of fulfilling someone else’s dream. I wanted to be closer to family, to be my own boss.” Among other reasons he wasn’t about to go into with her.

  “Exactly.” She gestured with her hands to make the point. “I spent the last five years living someone else’s dream. Now it’s my turn to do what I want, to not answer to anyone else—well, except the customers—but you get what I mean. I want to be my own person, my own boss. So, no, but thank you.”

  Yeah, he got it all too well. “You’re talking about your marriage. Was it that bad?”

  “No one gets divorced because they’re tired of paradise, Ian.” She looked away, eyes closed, and lips trembling. Yeah, it had been far from a good marriage.

  “Was he abusive?” he asked softly.

  It took a couple of seconds and then she gave a little shrug. “Mentally. Aaron was controlling, set in what he deemed was the life we should live, which meant he dictated what was appropriate and not appropriate for me to do and say. He had goals and I had a specific role to play in achieving them. My role was to be there for him, to support him, and do whatever he said. What I wanted didn’t matter.”

  She was holding something back, something bad. “What was the final straw?”

  “This.” She ran her finger along a pale pink scar on her left cheekbone. He’d noticed it before, but hadn’t asked as he’d figured it had been an accident. Beside, it didn’t matter to him—it only made her more beautiful to him. “I defied his wishes. It was the first and last time he struck me.”

  Ian didn’t consider himself a violent person, but right then he wanted to find this Aaron and beat him to a bloody pulp.

  “Okay, so I told you my big secret, now tell me why you really left LA.” Those whiskey eyes dared him to lie to her.

  He didn’t want to go into all the dirty details, but she’d been honest with him. She deserved honesty from him.

  “It’d had been building—all the reasons I mentioned before. Throw in the old story of betrayal and manipulation by someone I trusted, someone I thought cared about me, served with a side of ruination. Seemed like a good time to cut ties and start fresh.”

  The air hung heavy in the room as the music played, the words so apt for their conversation. They were both struggling to beat the odds, to reclaim their dreams. Maybe it was the battles they’d experienced—while different in nature, they’d had the same outcome, a renewed sense of purpose—that pulled the two of them together. He didn’t really know, didn’t really care. Ian just knew that he felt like this was where he belonged. In Mimosa Key and with Caty Kennedy.

  Caty kissed him and sat back, lifting her beer bottle. “Here’s to fresh starts.”

  He tapped her bottle and took a swig. “Tell me about Plan B.”

  She relaxed back against the armrest, sliding her feet in his direction, a sweet, hopeful smile all the incentive he needed to continue the foot massage.

  “I’m looking for a place on the mainland. Preferably in Naples, but it’s not exactly cheap rent, so I might have to look further up or down the coast.”

  His hands and heart stilled at her words. He couldn’t lose her now, not when he’d just found her again. There had to be a different way, a Plan C. For now, he’d be supportive and do whatever he could to help her out. “My offer still stands, if you change your mind. And if not, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  “Actually,” she pulled her foot free and ran it across his lap and with that one move the air and tension shifted in the room. The night was looking up. “I was thinking it was time for dessert?”

  ~*~

  His face went blank and Caty wanted to laugh. He was such a baker, because any other guy would have read sex into that question. Clearly, she’d have to be less subtle.

  “I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t make dessert. I grabbed the last two key lime tartlets that they had at the Twisted Pelican. Law said they were a customer favorite.”

  “Oh.” Warmth and a bit of pride filled her heart. She’d been so worried that the little desserts were too clichéd, too common to sell. “That’s good to hear. I guess next time I’ll have to make more. Those were supposed to last the weekend.”

  “You’re working at the Pelican?”

  “Just supplying them with desserts. Today was my first order, which I had planned to tell you about tonight. Tapping the local restaurants was part of my original plan…”

  “And I stole Junonia out from under you.”

  “No!” Caty sat up straight. Way to kill the mood, Kennedy. “I never thought that, not once, well maybe once. But, it’s all good. Now, can we put talk of business to bed for the night?”

  Ian’s baby blue eyes darkened to a stormy night sky. “I’d rather put something else to bed. Come here.” He reached out and lifted her to straddle his lap.

  She shifted, bringing his firm erection in direct contact with her body.

  Good to see they were both on the same page. She ran her fingertips up Ian’s firm abs and over his chest. Either he worked out or he abstained from sampling his own cooking, because he was rock solid.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “No, I’m not.” She rolled her eyes at him. Clearly the man needed glasses. “My forehead’s too wide and my nose has a bump on it. And my cheeks look like a chipmunk preparing for winter.”

  “No they don’t. They’re perfect. You’re perfect to me.”

  Lust. Six months down the road, the rose-tint would fade and Ian would see all her flaws and grow tired of her. He’d notice that her ass was flat, her stomach was not, and her boobs were too big. That her left eyetooth was longer than the right one, and she could scare a pack of zombies with the way she looked in the morning.

  She’d been there, experienced that, but for right now she didn’t care about any thing other than Ian’s hands caressing her. He
slipped the spaghetti straps of her top down her shoulders, kissing the bare skin. He kissed the hollow of her neck, wandering down to the space over her heart.

  “Mmm.”

  She leaned forward and dug into his hair. Their eyes met and their mouths meshed. His hands slipped down her back to cup her butt and pull her closer. His mouth claimed her, as the heat of his body swamped her, singeing her from the inside out. She scooted closer, like a moth to the fire, seeking heat and danger.

  Ian leaned back, just enough for him to slip her tank top up and over her head. He took a moment to admire the silky bra she’d put on just for tonight, placing a gentle kiss on the swell of each breast before he released it with a quick flick of his fingers.

  Caty laughed. “I spent an hour picking out that bra.”

  He slipped the straps slowly down her arms. “Hmm, it’s pretty, but you’re beautiful,” he breathed.

  His thumbs brushed slowly, softly across her nipples, his eyes flaring as they hardened beneath his touch. She was burning up. Her muscles quivered as Ian rocked his hips against her. They kissed, explored, and touched and still it wasn’t enough. She wanted all of him. Wanted to feel Ian inside of her, to feel him filling her up, to feel his sweat-slicked body slide across hers. She wanted to hear him whisper her name as he came.

  Caty grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and tugged it up and over his head, tossing it somewhere behind her. She sucked in a breath at the sight before her. Ian O’Malley was all ridges and angles and silky skin with a patch of dark hair over his heart. She traced the muscles, following each dip and rise until she reached the center and then followed the trail of hair to where it disappeared at his waistband.

  “With these abs, I think I’m going to have to come up with a different nickname for you other than Doughboy.”

  “Baby, you can call me anything you want.”

  “Oh yeah. What about O’Malley?”

  “Maybe not that. It’s what we call my grandfather.” He captured a nipple with his hot, wet mouth and she almost came right there.

  “Why don’t you call him Grandpa or Gramps or something?”

  He sat back, his chest rising and falling, his blue eyes full of summer storms. “Do you really want to talk about my family right now?”

  “What I’d really like is for you to take me to bed, Ian.”

  In one smooth move, he wrapped an arm around her and stood up. His feet ate up the floor as he made double time to her room. Thank goodness she’d cleaned earlier.

  She’d also taken time right before he arrived to light two small candles on opposite sides of the room, casting the room in soft shadows and filling the air with the scent of cinnamon. Not that she thought Ian had noticed. His focus was all on her as he sat her down carefully on the edge of the bed, leaned over her and kissed her senseless. His lips trailed down her jaw, throat, and continued south.

  Caty instinctively lifted her hips when he slipped the zipper down on her shorts. Instead of sliding them off as she expected, he took his time scattering butterfly kisses over her stomach.

  Ian O’Malley was definitely a detail man.

  He left no spot untouched. Finally, finally he slipped the shorts down and tossed them to a chair in the corner. “Pretty and they match the top.”

  “I didn’t think you’d seen it long enough to remember.”

  “Trust me, Caty. I notice the important things.”

  “Like?”

  “Like you’re ticklish here.” He ran his fingertips over her ribs and up the side of each breast. “That you smell like vanilla and your skin is as soft as flour.”

  He kissed the inside of her thigh and her muscles quivered. “Another ticklish spot.”

  “Ian, you’re killing me.” God, she wanted him so much.

  His palm caressed her calf, slid up over her thigh, and came to rest at the apex between her legs. “Tell me what you want.”

  “You,” she whispered. “I want you.”

  And Ian gave her what she asked for. He slipped her panties off and slid a finger inside her, followed by his tongue. Caty grabbed the headboard to keep from flying off the bed as the first wave washed over her from head to toe.

  “Oh my, God. Ian, please,” she begged.

  “Please what?” He kissed the soft skin of her inner thigh and then bit down, causing her to cry out in pleasure. “Tell me what you want, Caty.”

  “I want you naked and inside of me and I want it now.”

  He grinned and then started patting his back pockets. “Ah, shit.”

  She sat up all the way, ready to help him, as it seemed he’d forgotten where the zipper on his shorts was located, but she hesitated at the stricken look on his face. “Was that not the answer you wanted?”

  He leaned forward and kissed her. “Are you kidding? It’s the answer every man wants to hear, especially me, especially coming from you. It’s just that I forgot to, ah, grab, uh—”

  “A condom. Relax, Doughboy. Night stand.” She rolled over, opened the drawer and pulled out a strip.

  “Have I told you how much I like your positive outlook?”

  She reached for his shorts, struggling with the zipper for a minute, then drew it down. Ian took over and in a few short seconds he was naked, suited up, and over her. He paused and looked her in the eye.

  “Caty, I don’t know what this is between us, but I can tell you, I’m in it for the long haul. I know you said earlier you didn’t want this, us. So it’s your last chance to stop, because this isn’t a one-night stand.”

  He heart did a little trip and flip at his words. The passion and emotion filling his voice scared the hell out of her, but the last thing anyone could ever accuse her of being was a coward.

  “I want this, Ian. I want you. I want us.”

  That was all Ian seemed to need to hear from her. From that moment on she let the thoughts and worries about yesterday and tomorrow fade away as Ian made love to her. Tomorrow would come soon enough and when it did, she’d think back on what all this meant, and where they’d go from here. Tonight was all about fresh starts.

  Chapter Eight

  For the past two weeks they’d fallen into an easy pattern, spending the evenings exploring the mainland for a bakeshop and the nights heating up her sheets. With each failed outing, Caty’s hopes of owning her own bakery sank lower than a fallen soufflé. Ian had reissued his offer of working for him, and each time she turned him down. It was more important now than ever before that she be on equal footing with Ian. Never again would she be in a relationship where the man had the upper hand.

  Which might have been why when Ian told her to clear her morning and that he was going with her to make her delivery to the Super Min, she’d balked. Now as they pulled into the main parking lot of Casa Blanca, when the sun hadn’t even begun to rise, her curiosity was up and she was glad she’d given in.

  “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here? Caty looked around the deserted lot, noting a lone security camera sweep past and then come back to focus on them. It was a good thing Sheriff Garrison was a fan of hers.

  “Nope. It’s a surprise. Trust me?” Ian held his hand out to her, waiting.

  She put her hand in his and followed him down the path that led past the quiet lobby and around the restaurant patio to the beach, where she came to a dead stop.

  Smoky streaks of purple raced across the morning sky, enough that Caty could make out a couple of bodies moving down the beach and something on the ground. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust and really make out the shapes.

  “Ian what are we doing here?” She tugged on Ian’s hand until he turned back to face her. “Is that Zoe and her balloon crew? Are we here to watch a bride and groom take flight?” Because if they were it was a little odd, but sort of romantic at the same time.

  “Remember when we were talking about bucket list items?”

  Oh, shit. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart sped up, pounding against her breastbone trying to escape. He c
ouldn’t mean what she thought. Could he? “Um, yeah, sure. On our first date, but I—”

  He kissed her, soft and sweet until her heart sped up for a totally different reason and she relaxed under his touch. “I thought we could strike two items off at once: your dream to fly in a hot-air balloon and mine to watch the sunrise with you.”

  Aww. Damn, that was good. She glanced past him to where Zoe and her crew worked on the balloon. She bit down on the inside of her cheek. It had probably cost him a small fortune. A balloon ride for two? She didn’t really have that kind of extra cash to pay him back, not if she was going to open her own bakery soon. And, it was a super sweet gesture.

  The crew worked on spreading out the balloon. The waves quietly rushed to shore while a seagull flew overhead. There wasn’t much of a breeze—would that help or hinder them? What if the breeze picked up? Would they be whisked out to sea?

  Oh God, she couldn’t do this. Any minute she was going to have a panic attack. Why didn’t he ask her first before he’d set everything up? She’d told him she was terrified of heights and here he was pushing her. Damn it! Why couldn’t the men in her life stop pushing and manipulating her?

  “Hey,” Ian cupped the side of her face, “if you’re too afraid, I can cancel. We can just sit here on the beach and watch the sunrise together. I don’t mind.”

  Ah, man.

  Why did he have to be all sweet about it? She was just working up a really good anger and the nerve to say ‘no way.’ Why couldn’t he order her to get in the basket? That’s what Aaron would have done and she’d have had no problem telling him to stuff if, but no, not Ian. Ian had to be Mr. Nice Guy and give her an option. To let her be in charge of her life. Just like she’d wanted. He also was giving her an opportunity to experience something she’d always dreamed of doing and to conquer her fear.

  “Do you mind if I talk to Zoe first, before I say yes?”

  “Not at all. Come on.” He kissed her again and slipped his arm around her shoulders.

  She had met Zoe Bradbury, part owner of the resort, a couple of times. Caty didn’t know what it was about the petite blonde with wild curls and mischievous grin, but she had liked Zoe from the start. Maybe it was her openness and easygoing attitude.