New Uses For Old Boyfriends

by Beth Kendrick

  Lila had learned at an early age how to enter and exit a car while preserving her modesty in a short skirt. She utilized roughly fifty percent of her skill set and asked, “Are you going to blindfold me on the way? So I can’t retrace our steps and betray you to the opposition?”

  Malcolm walked around the car, settled into his seat, put both hands on the wheel, then gave her his full attention. “Do you want me to blindfold you?”

  She crossed her legs and stacked her hands on her bare knee.

  He waited.

  The way he was looking at her was actually making her feel a bit breathless. “I do now.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He put the car into gear and headed back to the main road.

  She tried to recover her composure and remember what it was you were supposed to talk about in the first five minutes of a first date. Hint: not blindfolds.

  “Let’s try that again: Where are we going?” she asked, then held up her hand. “On second thought, don’t tell me. I’m enjoying the mystery.”

  “Fair enough.” He headed north on the highway bordering the beach. “How was the first day of business?”

  She told him about the Paco Rabanne minidress and the Miss America gown and the pilfered Chanel buttons, then asked, “How did the polyester elopement go?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m assuming it went fine.”

  “You didn’t get any details?”

  “You saw the dress. I didn’t want any details.”

  Lila sat back for a moment, then started bouncing in her seat. “Okay, I take back everything I said about wanting to be surprised. The suspense is killing me. Where are we going?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Don’t toy with me,” she warned. “I’m wearing this dress and these shoes and I have ways of making you talk.”

  He tortured her for a few more minutes before relenting. “We’re going to Gull’s Point.”

  “Gull’s Point?” She glanced at him, confused. Gull’s Point had been the popular Friday night hangout back in their high school days. Teenagers would build bonfires, drink beer, and then dare one another to leap off the windswept cliff into the ocean. It had been the backdrop of budding romances, bitter breakups, enduring friendships, and eternal feuds. Until, eighteen months ago, a real estate corporation had bought the land and started construction on an exclusive gated community for wealthy summer residents.

  “We can’t go there anymore,” Lila pointed out as they reached the ornate metal gate that now sealed off the area. The houses were still under construction, so the neighborhood looked like a ghost town in the moonlight.

  “Yeah, we can.” Malcolm drove up to the gates and punched a code into the keypad. The tall metal panel slid open.

  “How do you know the code?” Lila asked.

  “One of the guys I work for invested in the development.”

  “And that would be . . . ?”

  “Jake Sorensen.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “You work with Jake? He never mentioned that.”

  “I do some contract work for him. You know him?” Malcolm seemed both stunned and disturbed by this prospect.

  “A little bit, yeah. He showed me one of his retail spaces as a favor to Summer. And he helped us list one of my mom’s old dresses on eBay.”

  Malcolm stopped the car. “Was it white?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded. “I helped you list one of your mom’s old dresses on eBay.”

  Lila twisted around in her seat to face him. “That was you? But I thought you said you did cybersecurity?”

  “Which means I’m qualified to throw together an eBay listing if my very generous employer asks for it.”

  “So our couture collaboration goes back further than we thought,” Lila mused. She lapsed into silence as she surveyed the tall, sprawling skeletons of homes in progress. The trees and boulders and bonfire pits had been leveled to accommodate a string of megamansions that took up every available inch of each lot. “This is kind of sad. I mean, I know this place was a fire hazard and it’s a miracle no one ever broke their neck jumping off that cliff, but we had so much fun here.”

  His voice deepened. “I remember.”

  She gazed at him through the shadows, trying to put the pieces together in her memory. “We came here on a date in high school?”

  “Sort of,” he admitted. “You came with your friends, but then they drank a six-pack of spritzers and started pushing each other off the cliff, and you didn’t want to get wet, so I hung out with you and drove you home.”

  “That’s right.” She stared past the half-built houses at the endless black ocean. “I didn’t want to mess up my hair or my makeup or my clothes.” Lila felt a familiar sinking sense of disappointment in herself. Even as a teenager, when she was supposedly young and reckless, she’d been too concerned about appearances to take chances. She’d been too caught up in what everyone might think to go after what she really wanted.

  And now it was too late—Gull’s Point was gone and she was old enough to know better.

  Malcolm glanced toward the backseat. “I brought food and wine and a blanket. I was thinking we could go out by the edge of the cliff and—” He broke off when he saw the expression on her face. “You know what? Screw that. Let’s jump.”

  Lila hesitated for a moment, then leaped into action. She opened the door and swung her legs out onto the uneven packed dirt. “Hurry up, before I come to my senses.”

  “Now or never.” He yanked the keys out of the ignition.

  She leaned down to take off her shoes. This time, her dress didn’t rip. Because Malcolm had secured the seam with strong, sure stitches that would probably hold up for another sixty years.

  He stepped out of the other side of the car, stripped off his shirt, then unbuckled his belt and yanked that off, too.

  She froze in place, nearly blinded by the headlights in her face but very much enjoying the view.

  “What?” Apparently, he’d taken off as much as he was going to, despite the fact that he still had his pants on. Damn. “You’re losing your nerve?”

  “No, no.” The night wind swept in, making her shiver.

  They made their way across the concrete slab framing what would soon be the grandest, fanciest house on the cliff. Malcolm guided her through the beams silhouetted against the starry sky, until they stood at the very edge of the precipice.

  It was too dark to see the water below, but she could hear waves crashing against the rocks that bordered the beach.

  “Ready?” He took her hand in his. She reveled in the feel of his warm skin against her chilled arm and shoulder.

  She nodded and edged closer. Then she closed her eyes and pictured the dark, churning depths below. What it would feel like to fall. What it would feel like to break the surface. What might be underneath the surface in the frigid depths.

  He stepped forward.

  She hung back.

  “Wait, wait.” She opened her eyes and stared into the void. “Maybe we should stop and think this through.”

  “Too late, we already skipped that step.”

  “What if there are sharks down there?”

  He laughed. “Stop stalling. Let’s go.”

  She edged two inches closer to the drop-off. “The water is going to be freezing.”

  “The adrenaline will kick in and you won’t feel a thing.”

  “What if I get a concussion? What if I’m paralyzed for life?”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “What if—”

  “Imagine you’re fifteen right now,” he urged. “You have no fear.”

  But fifteen had been an anxiety-ridden age for Lila. Despite her pretty face and popularity, she’d always held herself back, trying to be who her friends, her parents, her boyfriend
, needed her to be. And she’d tried so hard to live up to all those expectations that she’d never figured out who she really was.

  Malcolm stopped trying to convince her. Instead, he kept holding her hand at the edge of the cliff and said, “Tell me when you’re ready.”

  All Lila could feel was the wind on her cheeks and the damp ocean spray and the solid, steady presence of him next to her. She lifted her face up to the sky. “I’m not fifteen. I’m twenty-nine.” She looked back down at her dress. “And I still don’t want to mess up my clothes. This is sixty-year-old silk that you worked on for hours.”

  “Easy solution. Take it off.”

  “That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?”

  “Yep.” He grasped her shoulders, spun her around, and yanked the recently reinforced zipper down. The shoulder straps slipped off and the fabric pooled around her ankles.

  “Done,” he announced. “Ready?”

  She reached for his hand again. “Ready.”

  They stepped off the sandy ledge together and after a nanosecond of weightlessness, they plunged into the sea.

  It was freezing and dark beyond anything Lila had ever known. She could feel the burn of salt water in her eyes and throat, the power of the waves tossing her body around. Malcolm held fast to her hand.

  With a gasp, she broke the surface, then let go of him to start swimming toward shore.

  Her hair was plastered over her eyes as she started for shore. It wasn’t far, but she had to fight for every inch of progress against the drag of the undertow. Malcolm stayed right there with her, ready to help if she needed it.

  But she didn’t need help. And when she finally staggered onto the sand, her teeth chattering and her whole body shaking, she realized that the day had finally come: After decades of empty threats and false alarms, her mother’s advice about always wearing matching bras and panties had paid off.

  Champagne-colored silk-satin finished with Leavers lace for the win.

  “Come on.” Malcolm strode up behind her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you dried off.”

  “Y-you were right.” She was shivering so much she could hardly get the words out. “The adrenaline kicked in.”

  “Move it along.” He hustled her across the rocky beach and up the narrow dirt path to the cliff top, where he opened the car door, turned the heater on full blast, and grabbed the picnic blanket out of the back.

  “Here.” He wrapped the thin cotton blanket around her shoulders and ushered her into the passenger seat. “Get in there and warm up.”

  “But if I’m under a blanket, you can’t see my fancy underwear,” she protested.

  “Don’t worry—I saw it.” He gave her a smoldering once-over before he closed her door. Then he jogged to the cliff’s edge, retrieved the red dress, got into the driver’s seat, and handed her his dry shirt.

  “Put this on,” he commanded.

  She obliged, sliding her arms into the long sleeves and snuggling into the soft fabric, taking a little bit longer to cover herself than was strictly necessary. “I’m never giving this back,” she informed him.

  “Good. Get over here.”

  She rested her head on his bare shoulder, basking in the heat blasting out of the air vents, jacked up on adrenaline, and dripping all over the leather seats. The nerves in her toes and fingertips tingled at the sudden change in temperature.

  “That was worth a fifteen-year wait.” She hesitated, afraid to say what she was feeling. Then she went ahead and said it anyway: “You were worth a fifteen-year wait.”

  He ran his fingertip along her lower lip, then turned her face up to kiss her. She met him halfway, and the moment his lips touched hers, she was keenly aware that she wasn’t wearing pants.

  And he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  Life was good.

  They shifted positions, starting to get comfortable, starting to explore each other.

  He deepened the kiss and she parted her lips and both of them tasted like salt from the ocean, and then . . .

  The real fifteen-year-olds arrived.

  Flashlight beams bounced through the car’s interior, followed by a pack of kids who were laughing and yelling and swearing at one another at the top of their lungs. Judging by the number of voices Lila heard, there must have been at least four boys and three girls . . . plus at least three six-packs.

  In addition to beer, these kids were also apparently drunk on Friday-night freedom and they were not pleased to find adult interlopers in their midst. They made a dramatic show of stopping and speculating as to why two “grown-ass adults” would be fogging up the car windows in the middle of a half-constructed luxury home community.

  “They’re probably pretending they live here,” the alpha female opined loudly. “Like, giant, empty houses turn them on. Sick and twisted.”

  “Damn kids.” Lila pulled away from Malcolm and straightened the front of the shirt. “How did they even get in here?”

  He laughed. “Since when can six-foot-high walls and a fancy gate stop a bunch of high schoolers?”

  “Do they not understand that we’re trying to make up for lost time here?” She rolled down her window and yelled, “Don’t be selfish! You guys still have time. We’re old!”

  All she got in response were some catcalls and a series of loud popping sounds.

  She stuck her head out into the darkness. “Fireworks are illegal, you . . . you hooligans!”

  Malcolm tugged her back into the car and rolled her window back up. “Stop harassing the teenagers.”

  “Why should I?” she demanded. “We were here first.”

  He started the car and drove back toward the gate. “They’re bored, they’re hormonal, and their cliff is being turned into a bunch of McMansions. Let them have fun while they can.”

  “Whatever.” She finished buttoning the shirt and buckled her seat belt. “I want to have fun, too.”

  He stopped the car and gave her his full attention. “Lila, I don’t make a lot of promises, but I promise you this: We are going to have fun.”

  Her whole body thrilled at the undertone of dark sensuality in his voice. “Yeah?”

  Slowly and deliberately, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss onto the hollow of her throat. “Baby, I am going to show you such a good time.”

  For a moment, all she heard was the rustling of fabric, but then she thought she heard a muffled bark.

  Both of them startled.

  As they straightened up in their seats, a giant, shaggy black dog trotted in front of the headlights.

  Lila told herself that she couldn’t possibly have seen what she just saw. The famous phantom of Black Dog Bay. The town legend she’d always dismissed as a bunch of hooey. According to lore, the black dog appeared when your life was changing forever. When your past mistakes were behind you and a new life was unfolding, whether you liked it or not.

  The black dog appeared when things were meant to be.

  Malcolm stared straight ahead at the now-empty path. “What was that?”

  Something in his voice made her think he knew exactly what that was.

  Lila tried to sound causal. “Um, I think it was a bear?”

  He shook his head. “Too small to be a bear.”

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Was it . . . was it a dog?”

  “Maybe it was a badger,” he suggested.

  “Maybe it was a skunk,” she said. “Or a runaway pony.”

  “Maybe it was a wolverine.”

  “Yeah, probably a wolverine.”

  They lapsed into silence on the drive back into town, one pantless, one shirtless, both of them struggling to make sense of what they’d just witnessed.

  By the time they pulled into the Alderses’ driveway, they had agreed upon the only possible conclusion:

 
“Never happened,” Malcolm declared.

  “Never happened,” Lila agreed. On impulse, she leaned over and gave him two more kisses on the lips.

  “One for tonight, and one for sophomore year.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and delivered one more. “And a little something to hold you over till next time.”

  He caught her arm as she pulled away, then kissed her again, slowly and thoroughly, as though he had all the time in the world and knew exactly what he was going to do with it. “That’s to hold me over.”

  Lila scooped up her shoes and dashed up the porch steps, perfectly aware that the hemline of his shirt was creeping up as she went.

  Daphne, who was waiting for a full report in the front hall, regarded her daughter’s bedraggled state with dismay. “What on earth happened to you?”

  Lila tucked her damp hair behind her ear. “Love, lust, delayed adolescence. ’Night!”

  “Wait! Where’s my Ceil Chapman dress?”

  “Backseat of Malcolm’s Jeep. I’ll get it back next time I show up unannounced at his house.”

  “Come back here, young lady! What are you wearing?”

  “The delectable marine’s shirt.” Lila couldn’t stop smiling. “He managed to keep his pants on—for tonight. We’re sharing an outfit.”

  “You . . . He . . . I . . .” Daphne sputtered through a whole cycle of emotions. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “Neither have I.” Lila pulled a strand of seaweed out of her hair. “What can I say? I’m a late bloomer.”

  chapter 25

  Lila awakened at sunrise to the sound of pans and glassware clattering in the kitchen and the smell of something cinnamony. She ran a brush through her hair, threw on jeans and a sweater (and lipstick and mascara, because God forbid she should greet unexpected houseguests at seven a.m. looking less than perfectly put together), then went downstairs to find Summer chowing down at the breakfast bar while her mother made pancakes at the huge stainless steel, gourmet-restaurant-quality stove.

  “Good morning. You guys are up early.” Lila dropped the bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed routine and yawned when she realized there was no one who needed to be dazzled and impressed.