by H. M. Irwing
“Alright, dears,” called out Mrs Neil after them, “but dinner is at seven! Don’t be late.”
Emily squealed and whipped off her t-shirt as she went hastily out the back door, her grip on Cat firm as she tugged her along after her. Lucy turned to Jace.
“I can’t wait to strip down to my bathers.”
There was an ominous ring to his husky tone as he said that over her shoulder, sending shivers of reaction trembling down her spine. Lucy stiffened her spine and straightened her shoulders.
“Oh, alright then,” she managed, if a little breathlessly. Lucy made for the bed, which all their luggage had been unceremoniously piled upon. She spared him an admonishing look over her shoulder before reaching out for her bag. Rummaging within, she tugged out her trusty one-piece suit. Jace’s groan was audible behind her, Lucy turned back to find his bright gazed narrowed on the black, stretchy material.
“You still have that? It must be three years old,” he exclaimed rudely.
But Lucy merely shrugged. It was. Her sixteenth birthday present to be precise, and Jace should know. He bought it for her.
“It’s good quality,” she complimented, appreciatively.
“But poor design,” he muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“No, nothing.” Jace said, shaking his head. “I’ll get changed in the bathroom. You go ahead and use the room,” he offered graciously. That had her narrowing her eyes. He was never gracious. At least not with her.
“Nope, I need to use the bathroom. You change here.” Pushing past him, she went to do just that.
The suit was a tight fit, but not by much. Lucy really hadn’t blossomed out all that much in the last three years. Her waist was tinier, but her bust was much the same. Small and pert.
Despite that, the suit, for some reason, appeared snug to her eyes, as she surveyed her length in the floor-length mirror. Shrugging her shoulders indifferently, Lucy ran a rough hand through her boy-cut hair, glad for its no-fuss no-muss style and simply walked on out. She made her way back to Jace’s room to drop off her things and grab her board. The room was devoid of Jace. Catching sight of a bottle of sunblock, she paused to squirt some onto the palm of her hand and apply it across the bared expanse of her skin.
“I would have done that for you,” Jace murmured reprovingly, his gaze instantly turning salacious as she shot him a look through the dressing mirror. His gaze met her own, boldly daring. Lucy forced the tremble out of her shaking limbs, straightening her spine. She offered what she hoped was an indifferent shrug but murmured, almost breathlessly, “Be my guest.” She tossed the bottle at him and watched as he niftily fielded it before turning to offer him her back.
The back to the suit was modestly low-cut and his hands, when they landed on her heated skin, were chilled by the moist spread on his palms. Lucy gritted her teeth as goosebumps of reaction sent her shivering against her will.
His hands were steady and sure as they brushed against her back, making her wonder just how many times he had performed this menial task and for whom. It was no secret, at least not to her, that Jace Neil was never without a girlfriend, but for the life of her she couldn’t recall if he was with anyone now or between women as he sometimes was.
And, it was a question she was going to grit her teeth against asking.
“Right,” he murmured huskily in her ear. “Done. Do you want it anywhere else? Here perhaps?” His long fingers brushed against her arms, running caressingly down their length. Lucy turned swiftly to conceal an unbidden shudder.
“Nope.” She muttered shortly. “I’m good.”
Reaching out to grab her beach bag, already packed with all her needs, she slipped on her flip flops and said, “Shall we?”
Then, without waiting for a reply, Lucy walked off, waving at the Neils as she made her way to trudge down the winding path that led down the cliff’s edge to their own private alcove. It was paradise. This was the reason the Neils bought the little cottage, and why they put up with its tiny frame. The wonders of nature should never be rivalled with man’s intrusive construct. In this, at least, Lucy was happy that the Neils shared her good sense, but in all other aspects, they were a lavish lot.
She spied the twins already basking in the sun and decided to catch a wave before she settled in to an afternoon of quiet reading. Tossing her bag aside, Lucy took hold of her board and eyed Jace challengingly. The smirk on her face said it all, but she couldn’t help goading him further. “Keep up, if you can.”
Jace widened his teasing blue eyes and let his mouth fall open.
Laughing at his mock affront, Lucy took off in a head start, determined to catch the first wave before Jace. But she heard his feet padding after her on the soft, unblemished sand and knew it was going to be close. Splashing into the water and openly laughing now, Lucy dropped her board and tossed herself on before paddling out in earnest to wait for the next big wave. Jace caught up to her but spaced himself away. He was clearly determined to ride the wave with her.
Her laughter rang out once more, already exhilarated by the challenge, and Jace’s taunting grin only widened in acknowledgement. Soon, a big one rolled in, carrying her with it, Lucy was swift to clamber up, her knees bent and feet steady. She cried out in enthusiasm before giving in to the pull of the wave, allowing the natural rhythm of the ocean to belt out music she was familiar with under the beauty of a wave arching over her.
The silence within was dispelled only by the muted rush of water, her own heavy breathing, and the thudding of adrenaline in her heart. Being enveloped in this blue world was usually therapeutic, but this time, Lucy felt charged with energy; she broke free of the wave and glided over it to the shoreline before casually stepping off her board to sprint back to her bag, dragging the board behind her. She tossed aside the board and rummaged in her bag for the letter.
“What? Done in, already?” Jace queried, panting up to her. “You’re not calling it quits already, are you? We’re just getting started.” He tossed down his own board before plopping onto the sand beside her. Lucy spared him a cursory glance before mutely shaking her head and then she pulled out the envelope.
“So, are you going to open it?” Jace startled Lucy into realising that she had been staring at the envelope that she held in her hand.
“I am going to tear it up.” Lucy whispered, almost hoarsely.
Jace reacted in an instant; his hand fell on hers and the letter was wrangled from her grasp.
“Tear it up? Are you mad?” He demanded. “When are you going to stop running away from a past you had nothing to do with and accept what is?”
“You stay out of this, Jace. This has nothing to do with you,” Lucy cried out, before rising hurriedly to her feet, only to launch herself at him, determined to get hold of the letter.
“What is tearing it up going to achieve? Your past is not going to change,” he said urgently, as he furiously fielded her attempts to wrangle the letter from him. Then he added softly, “You are not going to change, either.” He knew of her secret fears just as he knew everything there was to know about her. Lucy was afraid of accepting that side of her. The side of her that connected her to Knyte Starr. The soul within that had her reaching out to sing was in her blood. Ever-present and throbbing. But Lucy was determined to deny that part of her, to deny the very existence of another father… and a missing brother.
Of course, there would be consequence from reading that letter. Losing the life she loved was that consequence.
“If that is true then there is no point in reading it at all,” she said stubbornly. Jace was the only one who knew the contents of each letter she’d ever gotten off her real father; he had been there when she’d first decided to read the damn things and had all but held her hand through the entire heart-wrenching ordeal.
For years now, the letters had played an instrumental part of her life. It was a constant reminder that there was another who held a claim over her. It had worried her that he would one day swoop in t
o steal her from the family she knew and loved. That Knyte Starr would fleet in and take her away. Living with that fear had been daunting, but having Jace at her side had made it bearable.
Lucy dropped her gaze to the envelope, a horrible feeling coming over her. “I am not reading that letter.”
“Then I will read it for you.” Jace easily dodged her reaching hands and swiftly stood, his nimble fingers making short work of the envelope and soon the letter was in his hands. Unfolded, shaken straight, and ready to be read.
A quick perusal later and his head shot back up to pierce her with twin sapphires that rivalled the darkest depths of the very ocean that spread before them. Lucy drew in a gasp, never having seen such dark intensity in his gaze before. “What? What is it? What does he say?”
“He wants to see you,” Jace spat out almost rudely, shocking her in his intensity but moreover his clear displeasure. The about-turn had her stunned so that it was sometime before she gathered her senses to respond. “But isn’t that what you’ve always championed? My meeting the man who fathered me?”
She rose to her feet, too, staring at Jace, confused.
“Yes! No!” Jace drew an agitated hand through his sun-kissed locks before gritting out unhappily, “But not like this. Not now.”
“Now? What does now have to do with it?” Lucy shook her head at him in confusion. Jace tended to revert to epic-confusing when he was not doing what he did best— teasing her into an antagonising awareness of his insufferable self. “Well anyway,” she said, deciding to focus her angst on the things that matter, “I don’t want to see him. He can come here if he wants, but I won’t see him. I am beginning a new chapter of my life and I don’t need the complication.” Lucy stared back at Jace determinedly, but her golden gaze did nothing to hide the fear and anxiety she was experiencing. Jace’s own steely blues softened at the sight of her confusion and he carefully folded the letter to replace it into its envelope.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little selfish?” He asked, forgetting his own ire to this unexpected news only a moment earlier. “And it’s not him who is flying down to Australia but you who will be flying off to San Francisco. Your ticket is included with this letter.”
Lucy gasped, then eyed the offending rectangle that Jace held in his hand. She launched herself blindly after it once more. His laughter rang out as he nimbly dodged her reaching hands, his feet easily shuffling backward, taking himself and the letter out of reach. But then his gaze fell on the approaching Emily and he grimaced, distracting Lucy momentarily from the shocking news that Knyte Starr wanted to see her.
Emily hadn’t gone and done what she thought she had or had she? When had she found the time? Lucy racked her brains but could only come up with that short span of time when she had disappeared to the bathroom. Emily must have doubled back to the house to catch Jace alone and tell him she loved him.
“I’ll keep this for now,” he said, waving the letter at Lucy. “And… we should head back in.” Jace sobered up enough to say before he glanced pensively back at Emily, who was looking unusually grim for her nature. “Talk to Em, will you. She needs you,” Jace said, before he moved off to gather up their scattered belongings. Lucy stifled a groan, realising that this was it.
Emily had confessed her feelings for Jace and, naturally, he had rejected her. Jace was five years older than her. At twenty-one, he was to all intents and purposes a man, while she was still a child in the eyes of the law.
Lucy picked up her things and moved to join Emily who was lagging instead of running ahead as was usual and looking oddly naked without Cat at her side as her constant companion.
“Em? Are you okay?”
And just like that the dam burst and Emily flung her arms about Lucy and wept her heart out. Lucy’s own heart constricted with pain and she felt her own eyes well up in tears. Only she had to admit, her tears stemmed more from the unavoidable feeling that things were rapidly spiralling out of control, then over the ache of Emily’s passing fancies.
“My poor beautiful little sister. Tell me what’s wrong,” Lucy said, knowing full well what it was all about.
“J… Ja… Jace doesn’t want me,” she hiccupped but got it out.
“Shhh. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” Lucy rubbed her arms, trying to infuse some warmth to the chilled skin. She felt oddly responsible over Emily’s rejected calf love. Jace was her best friend; if anyone could see just how easy it was to fall for his impossible charms it was Lucy. She should have better prepared her against it ever happening. Warned her not to fall in love with him.
It’s been three years and Lucy still struggled to stay afloat. To keep her head above water. To breathe. To survive her own ever spiralling out of control infatuation with Jace. An infatuation she would never knowingly give in to. She knew better than anyone else—Jace was not into women. At least, not for keeps. He went through his girlfriends like he did underwear.
“Jace is an idiot,” she began almost vehemently, “to not see you for what you are.”
Then she bit off a muffled oath, wincing at her poor choice of words. Lucy knew her words were meant more for herself than for Emily. “We’ve known Jace for far too long anyway. He’s practically a brother to us,” Lucy had to choke off her own self-disgust at that, but smiled merrily, when Emily leaned back to stare at Lucy incredulously.
There was no way Jace could be anyone’s brother. He was just too hot for that. Smart, savvy, and sexy as hell. Worse yet, Jace had that unique ability to mix humour with sensuality. There was honestly nothing he could say and do to reduce his irresistibility, Lucy should know—she had certainly spent the better part of their acquaintance searching for just that.
Lucy resisted fanning herself and instead stretched her lips in a wider smile hoping to cheer Em out of unrequited love with no more than a glimmer of pearly white teeth. She was sure Emily saw through her attempts, but she tried anyway and gave Lucy a pathetic, watery smile that wrung her heart anew.
“It will get better, love. You’ll see. In time you’ll meet the person who was meant to love you. This is just part of the journey. Everyone gets rejected at some point,” Lucy started off well but then finished off lamely having blithely run out of meaningful things to say.
“Have you been rejected,” asked Emily, suddenly curious over Lucy’s non-existent love life. Her own recent rejection opening her up to the undeniable possibility that her sister’s love life was as non-existent as her own. At least for the moment, Emily was never one to let the grass grow under her feet. She knew this momentary lapse of focus in herself was fleeting, and so was determined to pry into her sister’s absent love life while her own woes kept her a little less self-absorbed than was usual.
“Sure, lots of times,” Lucy lied, not having the nerve to tell her that her own interest was firmly fixed on Emily’s current infatuation. She’d never strayed to even glance at another, but it dawned on her then that perhaps it was time to start doing just that. It was time to set aside her own childish infatuations with Jace and try for something new… something real.
“Okay, I feel better now,” Emily said abruptly, before she threw Lucy a brave but watery grin, and then she turned to run down the path that led to the cliffside before making the climb back to the house. Lucy stared after her, feeling more than a little confused herself. Seeing Emily cry over Jace made her realise that was exactly what she’d been silently doing herself for the past three years.
It was time to move on. Time to let go. Perhaps, accepting that invitation from Knyte Starr was the way forward. Torn with her own jumbled thoughts, Lucy turned the opposite way and went back to the beach.
She had just reached a spot that offered her a vantage point on the views that would only be conducive to deep thinking when she heard, “That’s a wonderful thing you did for Em. But I’m not all that brotherly-like, surely?”
Lucy turned an amused glance to take in his oddly confused one. “Why? Do you want to add the Little
sisters to your list of conquests?”
His smile turned rakish at that but the dark cloud in his gaze didn’t shift the slightest. “I don’t…,” he trailed off searchingly, looking for the right word, “I don’t know what I want, only that I do… want.”
His gaze pinned hers at that before drifting away to stare out at the open sea. Lucy shook her head helplessly at Jace. This was the reason she couldn’t seem to shake him off her mind. He had moments of crystal clear honesty and leaned just as much on her to solve his own darkness as she did him. Only she never really understood what it was exactly that caused that swirl of darkness in him. What was it that made him sometimes lash out in spite and sarcasm? He wore that sarcasm like an armour and Lucy had never really managed to chip through. Perhaps, she never would.
Her hand reached out to grasp his. “You want altogether too much,” she said, not for the first time, reprovingly. His hungry gaze turned from the waters to train on hers searchingly before his lips widened in an open grin that was finally reaching his eyes.
“And you don’t want enough.”
Lucy grinned back, content to have him poke his little bit of fun at her. “I’ll peek at that letter now,” she said then, releasing his hand to reach out an open palm for it. Jace made a great show of pretending to search for it, trying to antagonise a rise out of her, but for once, Lucy was feeling a little too deflated to do more than quirk a brow at his efforts. The letter landed on her palm a moment later, looking crumpled and not a little worse for wear. She clucked her tongue reprehensively at him before bending to the task of reading it.
My dear darling Ara,
Lucy winced at the address. It was always the same, with Knyte Starr refusing to address her with the name she carried her whole life or by her given first name either. Seeing it, as always, set her teeth on edge before she resumed to unhappily take in what he wanted to say.
I watched you from afar, saw you grow from the infant that left my home to the young woman you have become, all from the written words your mom penned diligently to me. It’s time we met. Face to face. Father and daughter. I have attached the ticket and dated it a little over month from your reading this letter. First class all the way. A month is all I can give you to consider this and accept the inevitable, and that is—we must meet.
