Her Maine Man

by Owner

  “She did go off like a drama queen over water spots on her silk pants. Which is out of character for the ice queen when you think about it.” They reached the rocky shoreline and she turned to study his face. “Don’t you think it proves my point that she seeks out reasons to push me away?”

  His eyes were soft and sympathetic. “Maddie, I’m sorry I brought it up.” He walked along beside her, and they strolled the shoreline.

  She let the issue go, for now, easily losing herself in the beauty before them. The deep blue sky. The sun dancing off the caps on the ocean. No matter how often she saw it, she felt in awe. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

  “Yeah, and walking does have its highs. Walking with you, anyway.”

  “You have such a way with words. You give me happy feet.”

  And too happy a heart. To escape him and her welling emotions, she ran along the beach.

  But Jon sprinted with her. “It’s not me. It’s your red sneakers. But I can give you something that will make more than your feet happy.”

  “Is that all you ever think about?”

  “Only when I’m around you.” He swung her around to face him. Their eyes met. Their breath met. “Why is that?”

  Maddie had the same sinking feeling about him and a nasty suspicion what is was. Love, and love would mess up the basis of their entire relationship.

  “It’s only because you’re southwest of my Downeast.”

  He frowned obviously not crazy about her reasoning.

  She went for even safer ground. “How’s the island evaluation coming along?”

  “So-so.” Still frowning, he asked, “Do you happen to know who advised the board to hire CC Consulting?”

  “Is that important?” She held her hair back from her face as the wind whipped up.

  “It isn’t really.” He shrugged, which stretched the cotton knit of his shirt taut.

  She admired his shoulders, strong and edible. A desire surged in her to taste the texture of his flesh and muscle, naked, while she sank her teeth in during the heat of passion. With a resigned groan, she turned away from his tempting body and focused on his question and on the ocean where something dark bobbed, riding the waves.

  “I recall both of my parents giving CC Consulting glowing reports.” She pointed toward the water, intent to share the natural, wild beauty of the island with him instead of her wild side. “Look. There’s a seal.”

  “The black, wet, rubbery thing that resembles an old inner tube?”

  “Not a very poetic description,” she teased. But he wasn’t completely hopeless. He no longer choked on fresh air.

  Beneath the brilliant blue sky, dotted with puffy clouds here and there, they stood staring out at the ocean and the seal. A comfortable silence stretched between them.

  Without warning, he leaned down and kissed her mouth, tenderly, lovingly, impulsively. The caress didn’t last longer than a moment and yet she felt branded and weak. Her heart swelled. She lowered her eyelids to hide her love for him in case it shone in her eyes.

  “Maddie…”

  Her eyes connected with his dark, serious ones, imploring him not to speak of love and ruin their part-time relationship. She didn’t want to lose him, and she couldn’t trust him on a more full-time basis. Not yet. Maybe not next year either, when her parents split and all hell broke loose.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I saw Rodger earlier. He’s in favor of peace. As in rest in peace. Thinks we should turn the south-forty, as Harry called the southern end of the island, into an offshore graveyard. No tourists, just mourners. Quiet ones.”

  “Good grief.” She laughed, out of nerves, relieved he hadn’t brought up the powerful feelings brewing between them.

  “Yeah. Good Grief Island.”

  With her knees still weak from the too-tender kiss, and unable to stand so close to him and remain firm in her resolve, she sat down on one of the sun-warmed rocks out of view of the house. He joined her, and they tossed pebbles and shells into the surf. After she ran out of tossables, she untied her red laces.

  “Let me.” He bent in front of her on his haunches. His eyes were level with hers. Intimacy charged between them as he yanked off her high-top sneakers and peeled off her socks. “Cute toes.” He kissed them, one at a time, and ran his tongue along the tender underside.

  She let him. They were far enough away from the house and prying eyes. Her stomach did little flips. Shivers snaked through her limbs to the vee between her thighs. With each wet lick, moist heat dampened the crotch of her panties. Her clit ached for equal time. She hadn’t known what an erogenous zone her toes were.

  She resisted the urge to spread her legs and lure his lips higher. Too risky. Suppose Barb’s headache eased and she sent someone to fetch them? Containing her moan of pleasure, she giggled and squirmed her foot free of his hold.

  She stuck her toes in the chilly surf to cool the heated responses his tongue had elicited. While she dabbled in the water, she leaned back on her arms and lifted her face to the sun. “Take yours off.”

  “I’m not a fan of large masses of water.” He sat down alongside her again.

  “You don’t have to know how to swim to paddle your feet in the water and squish sand between your toes.”

  “To make you happy, I’ll give it a shot.” Always a good sport, he kicked off his docksider shoes and stuck his feet into the bubbly surf and sand. “It feels yucky.”

  “Yucky’s good.” Safer than the sins of the flesh she wanted to indulge with him, and on her home surf, too.

  Once she was chilled to the bone from the lapping water and ready to leave, he snatched up their shoes and they returned the way they’d come. His hair was windblown, his feet and ankles crusty with sand, and his nose and cheeks pink from the sun.

  “You look healthy and very outdoorsy.”

  And sexy.

  “If it turns you on it was worth it.” He winked, and turned her on like a megawatt bulb.

  Beneath the shell-crushed portico, they brushed sand from each other, which got to be a too feel-good experience fast. Wherever his knowing hands touched her body brought pricks of excitement. A few pats on her bottom and a brush of his palm across her breast and her breathing labored. His firm thigh and stomach muscles beneath her hand felt just as enticing. It was all she could do to keep her roving fingers from unzipping him. As her index finger teased along his waistband, his eyes became hooded and dark with desire and dared her on.

  “If Barb’s asleep and the servants are all downstairs…” She let the suggestion hang between them.

  Static crackled the tight space they shared, thick with eroticism and promise. Jon was creative, and she was a willing partner.

  He crooked a sexy, stomach-spiraling smile and tossed Maddie her sneakers. While she wriggled into them, he shoved his feet into his docksiders. In a flash, they entered the foyer, eager and horny, and ran smack into her father, carrying a food tray.

  “Barbra’s headache has eased some. She…we are going to have a light supper in her suite.”

  Maddie went speechless.

  The heated glaze in Jon’s eyes cooled.

  Her father ascended the stairs without a backward glance.

  Jon turned to her. “I don’t suppose Mrs. Muttley’s gone to the mainland?”

  Maddie shook her head, but curiosity rapidly replaced her stalled sex drive. Had this year’s absence from Grace renewed her father’s interest in her mother? What about his marriage plans with Grace?

  “Not that I’m unhappy my parents are getting along, but I’ve never seen them spend so much time together.” She scratched at her neck. “An itch tells me it’s because she’d rather not be in my company, especially after this afternoon.”

  “The sand’s making you itch.” He pushed her gently toward the stairs. “Let’s shower.”

  “Separately,” she reminded him.

  “I knew that, but after…”

  She shook her head again, slow and deliberate this time.


  “I was going to say after we wash up, we’ll dine out.”

  “Oh, you were.” She cracked a half smile. “One hitch. There’s no dining on the island. But the eats are good, and the Chowder House is having a lobster boil tonight.”

  “Boiled sounds so yummy and bland.”

  “And this Daddy’s girl owes you a lobster dinner.”

  ****

  Barbra looked beyond the bowl of bouillabaisse on her dinner tray toward her ex-husband seated across from her. “Do you know what your daughter and your lover’s son have been up to?”

  His spoon clattered onto his tray. Shock widened his eyes. The tan on his face paled.

  She smirked, satisfied. He’d sprung enough unpleasantries on her this past week, and it was about time to even the score. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? A detective reported your sordid little affair years ago. You were always so discreet. Why bring him here, Victor?”

  “I didn’t know he was on Bain Island until he stepped into my office.”

  “All the same, you’re the one who hired him.” She glared, unblinking.

  He lowered his eyes, buckling to her intimidation. Good. If he hadn’t, she’d dangle a threat to Maddie over his head. That always worked. She might do it anyway, but she’d leave the tactic for a parting shot.

  “I throw business the boy’s way on occasion. He’s a hard worker.”

  “Really, Victor,” she huffed. “Affairs and business never mix. Even if VIP Industries is large enough to absorb any possible errors on his part, as mayor you know Bain Island isn’t. Not after the financial blow Charles Chambers dealt us.”

  “Don’t blame Chambers on me. I went along with your recommendation to hire him. You said he came highly regarded.” His voice echoed loudly in the large, ornate bedroom suite as his anger over the theft built. She flinched, faking her frailty and testing his concern for her. He fell for her act, pausing to contain himself and lower his tone. “Barbra, I’ve done everything you’ve asked the past week. Filed papers, sworn affidavits, tried to coax a peace between you and Maddie while you’re at Tidewater recuperating.” He held his hands up in a hopeless gesture. “I’ve been at your beck and call.”

  “While you sneak around behind my back, plotting with your lover’s son and your daughter. Yes, your daughter. We both know I never had any patience for motherhood, and I loathe wasting my time on talents I can’t perfect.”

  “I never insisted you should…for your well-being as well as Maddie’s.”

  “Victor Isaac Powell, the saint.” She snickered.

  “Barbra, you’re the one who insisted he stay at the house.”

  “Because I wanted to size him up while I figured out what the three of you are up to.”

  “We’re not up to anything.”

  “Where was Maddie last weekend during your annual holiday to fuck Grace Matthews? You were here with me, so I can only fathom she was delivering your apologies to the whore.”

  “Shut up.” His face turned red.

  Loyalty. That pissed her off. Time to play her ace, her Maddie card.

  “For the past hour, your precious daughter and your whore’s son have been cozy on the sand. I saw him kiss her. It’s all rather incestuous, if you ask me.”

  Also, rather arousing. Perhaps she could persuade Charles to visit again sooner. Today, while the servants were out running errands, he’d given her a long, glorious orgasm. He’d left Tidewater almost too late, calling from his cell phone on his way to the boat to get her off one more time. She’d had to hang up mid-phone sex when Matthews knocked on her living room door. Charles’ motorboat had sped off during her discussion with the intrusive young man.

  Victor cracked his knuckles. She arched her brow. Her silence had gotten to him.

  “Feeling guilty?” Not that she cared who he screwed, but it was gratifying to rub his righteous nose in his perfidy.

  “There’s no duplicity, Barbra. I sent Maddie with my message so I could stay here to help you. Up until then, she knew nothing about Grace.”

  “The three of you have been laughing behind my back while you conspire,” she snapped.

  “There’s no conspiracy. I didn’t tell you about Grace or Jon because I didn’t want to impede your progress. You seemed to be in a better frame of mind as of late.”

  Since Charles had satisfied her sexual needs last week and again today. He’d felt sensational inside her. And she did have feeling, lots of it. When he fucked her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, she bucked and quivered from her drenched pussy to her heels that spurred his ass on. She was wet and slick now remembering his hard prick slamming into her. Once Victor left, she’d picture sucking on Charles’ huge cock while she fingered herself to yet another climax. Getting off was her only outlet for stress under her confining circumstances.

  “Jon doesn’t know about Grace and me,” he said. Her silence had apparently prodded Victor into trying to appease her again. “And God forgive me, but Maddie doesn’t know he’s Grace’s son. So see, there’s no collusion.”

  “I see.” She had to stop herself from rubbing her palms together with glee.

  So Maddie was a clueless pawn. If she persisted in observing Barbra’s every move, watching for reflexes and sensation, signs of feeling in her legs, she’d have to teach her a few lessons. Ones Barbra had learned at the knee as a Bain. For starters, as a diversion, Barbra would throw the deception of Maddie’s adored father in her face.

  Next, she’d put a detective on the Matthews family to see what dirt he could dig up.

  She smiled over at Victor, as if all were forgiven. “Let’s eat before the soup gets cold.” Her mother had taught her to keep her enemies close and well fed.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  An hour later they pulled up at the Chowder House, but before Maddie let Jon out of the car, she had him hold up his right hand. “Solemnly swear, on the Jag’s warranty, that you won’t talk to my friends about either my parents or my hang-ups concerning my parents.”

  “I like it better when we seal our bargains with a kiss.”

  Her gaze dropped to his lips. “As tempting as your mouth is, we agreed no more lip sealing. And especially in front of the Chowder House on lobster boil night. Almost everyone on the island is here.”

  “Can I drop my hand now and go in? I’m starved.”

  “We place our orders out back, outside.”

  He climbed from the car, held the door open for her, and escorted her around the building. Three metal washtubs were boiling on an outside wood fire, vapors of steam rising into the night air. Lobsters were taking their last swim in a nearby vat of cold seawater.

  “Two specials,” Maddie ordered for them, pointing out which lobster she wanted.

  Plunk, plunk, plunk. Lobster, clams, and corn on the cob were tossed into separate steaming tubs, each in their own small mesh sack.

  He picked his lobster next. Plunk, plunk, plunk.

  The cook handed her two white plastic tags with numbers. “Now we go inside for a cold beer.” She took his arm.

  “I’ll need a beer to forget the look in my lobster’s eyes. He was pissed.”

  She patted his hand, but stopped as soon as they entered. As they elbowed their way through the crowded dining room, it seemed as if most of the islanders, except for the mayor and his wife, were at the boil.

  “Over here.” Lyndsey waved to them. A tall guy seated next to the redhead squeezed two additional chairs up to the table.

  “This is Tim.” Lyndsey smiled. “He’s a lobsterman. Responsible for tonight’s catch.” He nodded, and Jon eyed up his bulk. If Tim was Lyndsey’s Shanghai friend, he was glad he no longer topped her stalker list. She pointed. “Sue, you know. And this is Jill and her cousin Jack.”

  Jack and Jill. Jon stifled his chuckle.

  “I’m explaining to Jack how to crack and eat a whole lobster.” Sue held up a colorful paper mat with pictured instructions.

  “I’d better have a look,
too.” Jon snatched up another mat. “I’m used to eating the tails.”

  “I’ll have the cook pre-crack two dinners.” Maddie snatched up his and Jack’s tags and wriggled through the crowd toward the back door so quick Jon didn’t get a chance to savor the sway of her hips and the wiggle of her rear as she walked away.

  “Hey, Jon.” A loud shout and plaid-clad, waving arms caught his attention. Old man Denky. “Come over here.”

  “Tell Maddie I’ll be right back,” Jon said to no one in particular. He scraped back his chair and worked his way through a small maze of tables and chairs over to Denky.

  “These are my nearest neighbors, live about a mile out. Flossie and Merle Muttley.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Jon shook hands.

  Flossie Muttley pinched up her nose and stared. “You look familiar. If only I hadn’t forgotten my glasses.”

  Jon supposed he did look different without Spot hanging off his neck, slurping his head.

  “The boy’s not familiar.” Merle Muttley saved his butt.

  “Have a seat for a minute.” Denky pointed to an empty chair. “We have a plan we want to run by you. Needs the bugs worked out, mind you.”

  “I’m always open to suggestions.” Jon plopped down across from Flossie hoping being eye-to-eye didn’t improve her eyesight.

  “I was telling my friends that you’re the new consultant. And trustworthy, not like the old, crooked consultant Barbra stuck us with,” he hollered.

  “Thanks.” So that made one recommendation for CC Consulting from Barb and one from the mayor, and a split decision according to Maddie. No pattern there for bias.

  “My friends and I have one word for you.” Denky stabbed the wooden table. “Trash.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jon nodded.

  “We accumulate a lot of junk on the island.”

  “Trash n’ treasure.” Flossie smiled as if that explained it all.

  “Instead of dumping everything at the transfer station, what about a ‘trash and treasure’ pickup every few months? Ship it over to one of them antiquers at a bulk price. Flea markets all over New England are buying and selling at wicked high prices.”