Gypsy Beach

by Jillian Neal

  She still had no idea what to do with her long, unruly hair or how on earth to wear make-up. Nana always insisted that she didn’t need it, and whenever Sienna attempted to try on some of her mother’s, she ended up looking like a deranged clown.

  Jewelry still fascinated her. She often donned far too many pieces, like a little girl that got to play in her mother’s jewelry box.

  She preferred comfort and colors in her clothing much more than what accentuated her decidedly pear-shaped body. Ryan probably dated much more sophisticated women after her. Women that knew how to dress and how not to act insane. Her mother always said she looked like a curtain rod with drapes hanging off of her in all of her kimono robes and sundresses. Nothing about her was particularly sexy by her estimations, and she was fairly certain that Ryan would agree, though she’d caught his gaze studying her a few times that day.

  It was high time she learned to follow a few rules. She’d been roaming around the country living with no sense of direction for long enough. If she was going to make Gypsy Beach her permanent home, she had to be careful. Getting involved with anyone was a bad idea, especially Ryan McNamara.

  The list of questions Sienna wanted to ask seemed to grow exponentially with every passing moment. She glanced up at Ryan as he inhaled a second helping of her spaghetti and meatballs.

  “Do all construction workers keep extra clothes in their trucks?” was the brilliant inquiry her moronic mind produced in the distraction of his complete gorgeousness and his slight moans of pleasure as he ate her food.

  Something akin to pain etched his face. Disdain swirled in those hunter green eyes that so often showed his mood.

  No, probably not. But most construction workers’ wives aren’t complete bitches that pitch a freaking fit if their husbands come home without showering after working all damn day so they can spend all of their time bouncing between the spa and the country club.

  A forced smile fractured the pain on his face. The effect tugged at Sienna’s heartstrings. What had happened to him?

  “I don’t really know. I just kind of got in the habit of showering before I left the office. A few of the guys in my crew did that as well, but not all of them. I’m glad I had them with me tonight, though. This is outstanding, and I can’t thank you enough for hiring me. I wouldn’t have stayed if I couldn’t have cleaned up. I wouldn’t put you through that.” A sexy chuckle escaped his lips and a glimmer of hope played on the fringes of his eyes when he looked at her. “And this is the nicest meal I’ve had in a long, long time. Thank you for inviting me.”

  A warm heat attempted to melt through the shield over her heart that she’d tried so hard to hold onto most of the day.

  “This isn’t really anything special. It’s just spaghetti.” She shrugged uncomfortably. Her heart declared vehement war with her mind.

  “The spaghetti is delicious, Sienna, but the company is even better.” His jaw clenched as tightly as his eyes for one split second. Regret broadcast from his entire being.

  Sienna had no idea how to respond. Her body was awash in equal parts need and panicked warning.

  “Uh,” he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Hey, did you ever make it out to California?”

  Not at all certain he wanted to know, he desperately needed something to distract him from the thoughts that now permeated every square inch of his musclebound body. Thoughts about having dinner with her every night. Thoughts about Sienna meeting Evie. Thoughts mingled with memories of how she felt in his arms and the look in her eyes when she told him she loved him. And desperate, reckless thoughts about lifting her from her chair, carrying her up to that bed, and showing her exactly what he’d dreamed about every single night for the last ten years.

  “California,” she sighed. “Yeah, I did, actually. I lived there for a little while.”

  Ryan nodded, but she’d abruptly stopped talking. “Well, did you like living out there?”

  Sienna fought not to whimper. California. Oh geez. This was not exactly how she’d seen this dinner conversation going. After admitting to herself that her libido had invited him to dinner and that there hadn’t been a whole lot of thought involved, she decided she might as well give him some idea of what she’d been up to the last ten years.

  Maybe if she spilled, he would. She wasn’t certain she wanted to know, but the longer he sat there the more of him she wanted to absorb. She wanted to be a part of him again, as stupid as that was.

  “I kind of went on an extended road trip for several years. College and I didn’t really get along.” She wrinkled her nose.

  A huffed grunt sounded from Ryan. “Oh, believe me, I get that.”

  Sienna wasn’t certain what to make of his understanding. Surely he’d gone on to college. His parents would have forced him to, wouldn’t they? He always used to complain about how they planned his life for him.

  At first, she’d told herself that his family was the reason he’d disappeared, and she’d eventually moved on to blame Nana. Though it hurt so deep down inside of her to admit it, that’s why she’d stayed away so long. She’d never spoken the accusation, but she’d believed her mother’s lies that Ryan’s family hated her Gypsy ancestry. That Nana’s pride in her Romani heritage and all of that talk of Gypsy magic is what had driven him away because they believed, just as her mother believed, that Nana and her ways were something to be scorned.

  She’d gone on with her mother’s plans after spending six weeks praying that Ryan would magically appear on the beach that summer. She’d been so lost and heartbroken she hadn’t had much fight left in her. That was how she’d ended up at Katherine Deaton. Good God, what a joke that had been. It was almost laughable, and had she not been in the very depths of a deep, consuming depression, she would have laughed, right in her mother’s face.

  A conservative, women’s college, full of wide-eyed disciples of the belief that men were the answer to any woman’s desires, which were largely unintelligent anyway. Boys’ bad behavior was to be expected, and once a girl secured herself a husband then all of the problems in the world would magically disappear. It made Sienna sick. The misogyny of it all ate at her soul. She swallowed down another sip of her wine trying to wash away the misery.

  Sienna’s papers on women’s rights and the downfall of humankind, all at the hands of money-hungry, self-indulgent, men, had earned her several castigating letters sent home. After her mother and stepfather thrust them in her face with a lecture on what a horrible disappointment she was, she would hang them proudly on the bulletin board in her dorm room.

  She spent two months being sent daily to the Headmaster’s office due to her adamant refusal to adhere to the ridiculous dress code. She hated bras and panties and saw no purpose in them whatsoever, and who the fuck actually wore pantyhose anymore, anyway?

  A nasty professor, something akin to a god to the holier-than-thou girls of KD, had offered her another way to improve her grades, and with the quick whip of her backhand across his sanctimonious face, she’d gotten herself expelled. No one believed that he’d made a pass or an offer. The hypocrisy of it all drove her insane. It also drove her to the road. Thoughts of her life on the road left her deflated. What to tell Ryan?

  “California was definitely not as perfect as I always thought it would be.” Her admittance brought Ian’s scowl to the forefront of her mind. Yeah, spending four long months living with an abusive asshole and then another six months getting away from him had been about as far from her idea of perfect as she could get.

  But truthfully, even Cali without Ian just wasn’t what she was looking for. She’d floated from a myriad of waitressing jobs all over the country that inevitably landed her in the kitchen. She was a great cook, but she had no credentials, and therefore no one wanted to pay her a chef’s salary, and no one tips a great cook. She’d been a barista for a few months back in Denver and then again in Dallas. Now she could prepare just about any meal and a freaking awesome latte, but nothing settled her soul. Nothing until she
’d finally forced herself to drive the long roads back to Gypsy Beach.

  “I’m really sorry, Sienna.” The sexy rumble of his voice shook her from her distraction. The weight of his tone and his words seemed to say he was sorry for California and everything else.

  “Yeah, but I’m here now, so I guess it all worked out.”

  She was astounding. Always so optimistic. Ryan wanted so badly to believe that this would all work out, that his life would somehow pan out to be something he actually wanted to live, but he just wasn’t certain that he could.

  “Well, what about you? I kind of always imagined that you finished college.”

  Her question chaffed at his resolve. He didn’t want to tell her what a complete and utter failure he’d become, but the thought that she’d at least thought about him, imagined him, settled the chaos that continued a contentious argument between his heart and his mind.

  He sighed. Clearly, she’d hated college too. Maybe she wouldn’t think him too big a loser. “Yeah, well, I went. My parents didn’t give me any other option. I hated it.” His eyes begged her to believe that she was the reason he’d collapsed. When he’d given her up, his entire world had disintegrated into the hellish abyss he was currently living. And something about staring into those beautiful hazel eyes made him feel hope, as stupid as that was.

  “I dropped out my senior year.” He ended his explanation there. No sense in rehashing every single failure of his life in one meal’s time.

  Her bottom lip slipped through her teeth, and he almost groaned aloud. That beautiful heart shaped mouth of hers always did him in. Able to beckon him with one quick, mischievous smirk, and the taste, like the sweetest candy-coated sin he could ever hope to have. He swallowed down another bite of the pasta and sauce. It was delicious, but it wasn’t at all what he was craving.

  “Well, you seemed like you really liked working on the porches today. It made you happy, so it’s good you’re getting to do what you love. I think it’s a blessing to be able to do something that makes you smile every day. Don’t you?”

  “I’ve been here like six hours, and you already figured all of that out?” Astonished yet again, it appeared that their years apart had done nothing to keep her from being able to all but read his mind. How did she do that? And why did he long for her abilities to cut through all of his animosity and anger to access the very core of who he was almost as much as he longed to hold her in his arms? Her ability to figure him out with ease should have irked him. It should have driven him crazy, but the acceptance in the information she read from his unspoken words always stirred his soul.

  A broad, beaming grin seemed to light the entire table. The moonlight night was nothing compared to her smiling at him like that. “Your vibes were happy when you were working.” Her head tilted downward as if she shouldn’t have said that. “Kind of like they are now.” The next statement was barely audible.

  Ryan couldn’t stand the way her entire body seemed to brace for rejection. She’d talked about vibes ten years ago. It was a relief to hear her let more of her true self out in his presence. They’d even joked about their own sexual vibes and how they had amazing chemistry. Why did she look so sad?

  “I love my work, and I kind of always thought the vibes here at Gypsy Beach were made for me, and sitting here with you is more than I could ever have hoped for, so I’m sure my vibes are damn near ecstatic.” His confession lifted her head and shock colored her cheeks.

  “Yeah, I think so, too. That’s why I came back, actually. I drove all over this whole stupid country, and I never fit in anywhere. Nowhere but here. And I like having dinner with you, too.”

  “Yeah, I get that whole never fitting in anywhere but here thing.”

  “Thank you for saying that. I was worried I was going insane.”

  Having no idea what he’d said that had reassured her, he went with what he hoped was a sexy smile.

  “I guess it’s just kind of hard without Nana. You know my mom and I don’t get along. I hate my stepdad.”

  “I’m really sorry about your grandmother.” With a great deal of force, he bit back the word ‘sweetheart’ that he longed to add to the end of his declaration. “Did you get to see her before she passed?”

  Another sweet smile softened her face. “Yeah, I was here for the last few weeks, but then I had to go back to Norfolk and get another job. I had to make sure I did everything right so I could have this place. Nana willed it to me, but Mom kept wanting to sell it. It was kind of a disaster. I finally got up enough money and a lawyer helped me get the documents in order. I just keep hoping everything says what it’s supposed to say. You know Nana was… kind of unconventional. Her will was hand written.” She sighed.

  Concern dampened some of the lust and desire that had been swimming copiously through his veins all evening. Sienna’s grandmother was most certainly unconventional. Most of the time, Ryan thought she was a little crazy, but she adored Sienna so that was all that mattered to him.

  “Hey, you know, one of the only good things that came out of me going to Georgia was John. He’s my best friend and a hell of a lawyer. He did actually finish, obviously. We were frat brothers, roommates, everything. I could have him look over your paperwork if you want. No charge.”

  That offer was greeted with another one of those smiles. “Thanks, but I think it’s all taken care of. I don’t really want to think about it anymore. I just want to get it redone and make a life here again. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, I think.”

  Disappointed that he couldn’t do something else for her, he forced a nod and downed the last of the single glass of wine he’d allowed her to pour him. He’d been very wary of alcohol since his wild college days. He did incredibly stupid things when he was drunk, and that was not an option when it came to Sienna any more than it was an option when it came to Evie. His days of drowning his sorrows in liquor were long gone, and good riddance. He certainly didn’t miss them.

  “Did you want another glass?” Sienna stood, and with a quick spin that made that dress flutter and every cell in his body stand up and take notice, she carried the bottle back to the table.

  “No, thanks, though. I really should get on home. I’ll be back early tomorrow. I’m gonna work on the front decks until the sun gets nice and high, and then, if you want we can go into Wilmington, and you can pick out the finishes we’ll need, and the appliances.”

  “That sounds like fun.” Once again, Sienna spoke without thinking. He wanted her to go on kind of a roadtrip with him, and spend the entire afternoon tucked up in a small truck where there would be no reprieve from his voice, or those sexy eyes, or that smell of Southern pine trees and fresh cut grass mixed with smoky incense and the musk that was all Ryan. She’d driven all over the country and had never found another guy that smelled like perfected masculinity.

  All evening long, her thoughts had strayed to everything she so wanted him to do with those lips and those hands and… A shuddered breath caught in her lungs. Keeping her head in the game and her hands off of his body was going to be a monumental task, one she would have to keep up all afternoon.

  Another round of regret and the favorite echoed lecture of her mother declaring her to be a complete screw-up incapable of making good decisions set an icy chill through her body.

  The sound of water running in the sink jolted her back to the present. Ryan McNamara was standing at her sink washing dishes that he’d cleared from the table.

  “You don’t have to do those.”

  Another one of those devastatingly sexy grins accompanied his scoff. “You kidding me? You made me dinner; the least I can do is the dishes, but I’ll be quick and get out of your hair.”

  So, he not only can rebuild most anything inside of her house, but he also does dishes. If he hadn’t completely shattered her heart into irreparable pieces a few years before, she would be pretty sure she’d died and gone to heaven.

  When he finished, she walked him to the door. The awkward tension grew un
bearably comfortable as he stared at her lips with a hunger that she recalled so vividly. It had haunted her dreams for ten long years.

  “Thanks for dinner, Sienna. Thanks for everything. Really.” Those gorgeous green eyes never left her mouth.

  “No problem.” Not certain what to do, but wanting so desperately for him to kiss her, for him to show her that he wanted her, she stepped closer. He backed away and all but sprinted down the front porch steps.

  Eight

  Damn, but that was too close. In every single way, the entire night had seated him on the precipice of disaster. He had to get out of there. He called Evie every night at eight to tell her good-night and to tell her a quick story he usually made up on the fly. He would never miss that, but telling Sienna about his baby girl just felt wrong.

  Beyond all of that, he was incapable of standing in that house one more moment and not touching some tiny patch of her sexy skin, or running his fingers through that long silken fall of hair, or tasting that wine from her lips.

  What her sweet pussy would taste like had driven him to absolute distraction for a decade, and he was far too close to carrying her up those stairs and finding out as he feasted on her.

  His determination and resolve were on ragged edge. He had to get it together. This was for Evie. As he touched Alexa’s number on his favorite contacts list, he ordered himself to focus on nothing but his little girl.

  Early the next morning, with the moon as his only accompaniment, Ryan’s shoes sank rhythmically into the sand. He’d been running his whole life. Soccer, football, and the two weeks on the track team it took him to realize that he didn’t want to run to a finish line. He wanted to run away. Caught somewhere between the indigo hush of late night and the hazy shimmering blues of early morning, the cathartic sensation of running on the moonlit beach eased his restless mind. He watched the charter ships leave from the pier.