Inseverable: A Carolina Beach Novel

by Cecy Robson

  He raises his glass and grins. “Much obliged, Spanky.”

  I cringe at the name, but don’t correct him. If he keeps taking that damn blue pill and meeting up with the widow Levine like he’s been doing, the poor bastard doesn’t have a lot of years left.

  My hand snags a beer mug to fill. I’m waiting on Trin. I sent her a text telling her to stop by after her shift. Aside from a reply back saying she would, I haven’t heard from her.

  We ate the grilled cheese she made last night in bed. I focused on chewing and sipping the soup so I wouldn’t have to look at her small sad face. Every few breaths, I stole glimpses her way. She didn’t take my rejection well, even though I tried to cushion it for the both of us.

  Sean slides into the empty bar stool beside old man Perrington and places a set of empty pitchers in front of me. “Thanks, Callahan,” he says when I set them beneath the tap to fill. “How you doing, Mr. Perrington?” he asks him.

  “Real good,” Mr. Perrington answers, smiling when the widow Levine saunters in wearing her best Sunday dress. He slips off the stool. “I’m going to get me some tonight.”

  Yes, he is, based on that limp that has nothing to do with his bad knee. He shuffles toward the widow Levine who’s pretending not to notice him.

  “Remind me never to ask him how he’s doing,” Sean says. He makes a face. “Now all I can picture is loose skin flapping in the wind when he fucks her.”

  This time, I’m the one making a face. “Come on, Sean. Did you have to share that?”

  “Just get me a shot of whisky so I can clear all that creepy Grandpa sex out of my head,” he says. He reaches for the shot I pour him, but pauses before taking a sip. “You don’t think he goes down on her, do you?”

  “Christ, Sean,” I say. “Just drop it already.”

  “Cause she’s had like seven kids,” he says, ignoring me. “I hear she was some kind of dancer in her day, but I don’t think that shit stays the same after seven kids no matter how good you can tap dance.” He tosses back the shot and glances at Mr. Perrington again. I make the mistake of looking up in time to see the old timer’s hand disappear under the table and widow Levine jerk up, giggling like a naughty teen.

  Sean and I exchange glances. “I’m going to need another one,” he tells me.

  Hell, I might need one, too.

  He looks at me again. “Do you think she―”

  “Sean, just shut up already. I don’t need another visual.” I point to one of the waitresses. “Go and talk to Loretta over there.”

  He frowns. “Don’t you mean Lindsey?”

  Whatever. “Sure. Talk to her. I’m sure she’ll keep your mind off things.”

  Like Sean, Lindsey likes to talk, excessively. She’s also been getting too close and searching for any excuse to hang out with me behind the bar. I don’t want Trin to think she has anything to worry about because she doesn’t. I meant it when I told her I only think of her.

  I’m only wondering what’s keeping her. Her team’s already been here an hour and she’s still not . . .

  Becca saunters in, dressed in a way that causes a few locals to whistle when they spot her. She looks nice, but she’s not who keeps my interest. Trin trails in behind her, showing me what’s kept her.

  Normally, she bounces in wearing her lifeguard bathing suit and a pair of shorts, or sometimes shorts and a shirt if she squeezes in a shower before she leaves work. Sand typically coats her feet or her hair’s still damp from freshening up. It’s never bothered me, nor retracted from her beauty. But tonight . . . tonight I have to say she’s more than beautiful.

  Her hair’s extra shiny and falls loose around her bare shoulders. One of those black strapless tops wraps around her breasts, riding up enough to give me a peek of her waist. A long colorful skirt flows behind her, falling just above her black sandals and freshly painted toes.

  Where Becca’s met with wolf-whistles, Trin’s met with “oh’s” by the local women, and “don’t you look pretty?” from the men.

  No, she doesn’t look pretty. My girl looks exceptional—sexy and innocent in one alluring package. Lord help me, I can’t tear my eyes from her as she makes her way toward me.

  She takes a seat in front of me, but doesn’t quite look up, not right away. When she does, I catch a small trace of a blush.

  “Hi,” she says, smiling lightly.

  “You took a shower,” I say, like a dumbass.

  She laughs into her hands then drops them down. Maybe it’s me, but it’s like she’s suddenly shy or something. Why is she acting shy around me now?

  “I was trying to look nice for you,” she admits.

  “You always look nice,” I tell her. I mean what I say, but somehow she seems disappointed.

  She turns her head from side to side like she’s trying to think of what to say. What the hell? Trin always has something to say. I’m guessing I’m supposed to say something about her clothes.

  “It’s a cute dress,” I offer.

  Apparently that wasn’t it. Whatever’s left of her smile is now long gone. “Thanks,” she mumbles. Her focus drops to the bar. “It’s actually a skirt. I . . .” She lifts her gaze. “I know last night wasn’t good.”

  “It wasn’t,” I agree. “But it had nothing to do with you.”

  “I shouldn’t have cried.” It’s what she says, but her eyes shimmer anyway. “I know that didn’t help, and probably made it worse for you. I’m sorry. I just―”

  Lindsey, taps my arm. “Excuse me, darlin’, coming through.”

  I glance at her as she flounces by, annoyed. She could have slipped behind me. There was plenty of space. When I return my attention to Trin, her stare drifts from me to Lindsey and then back.

  I frown, not sure what’s bothering her. “What is it?”

  She starts to tell me when Lindsey passes. This time, she slaps my ass with her tray. “Sorry, not a lot of room back here,” she says, laughing.

  Her flirting needles me. But what she did was meant to bother Trin. It doesn’t take a scholar to recognize she’s upset now. She straightens in her seat, pretending to play with her hair so she doesn’t have to glance directly up.

  I tickle her chin. “Hey. You all right?”

  Instead of answering, she lifts her stare, watching as Lindsey stomps away in a huff. But I don’t care about Lindsey. I only care about this sexy little kitten in front of me who clearly has no idea how bad I want to carry her out of here and into my bed.

  “Tell me what you were saying,” I ask Trinity, softening my voice and folding my arms across the bar.

  The corners of her soft pink lips lift a little. “I was trying to tell you that I really like you,” she admits. “And I wanted to show you by dressing up.”

  She doesn’t think I see her. Or notice that she’s made an effort. Maybe it’s because she’s not used to the attention she deserves.

  When she walked in, the locals and tourists were blown away by Becca, like always. But everyone saw Trin as pretty and sweet when she intended to be more, at least for me.

  Tonight, she wants to be more than that cute young woman everyone gravitates to dance and laugh with. She wants to be seen as more than everyone’s pal. But to me, she’s already that, and more.

  She smiles a little and glances down. “I wish I knew what you were thinking,” she says.

  “Come here, and I’ll tell you,” I say, my voice gruff.

  Her lips separate ever so slightly. She’s surprised and maybe a little nervous about what I have to say. Regardless, she leans forward when I do, meeting me halfway. My hand cups the back of her neck and my deep voice lowers to whisper in her ear. “Your hair’s shiny and you smell good. I like the skirt. But the way you look right now makes me want to rip it off you and yank your panties down with my teeth.”

  I smash my lips against hers, slipping my tongue in briefly to play. Before I finish pulling away, I peg her with a look and grin that lets her know I intend to make good on my promise tonight.


  Chapter Seventeen

  Trinity

  If I was wearing socks, Callahan would have knocked them right off with that kiss. But his words? Sweet baby Jesus in the manger playing with a rattle, considering how his tongue just made friends with mine, my mouth feels awfully dry.

  He holds my stare and releases me slowly, but maybe it’s not slow enough. I slip off the stool and crash to the floor the moment he lets go. I hop up in the time it takes him to leap over the bar. Let’s just say there have been more graceful moments in my life.

  He clasps my elbow to steady me. “You all right?”

  “Oh yes, fine. Totally fine,” I say, slapping at my skirt like my butt doesn’t feel like it’s been spanked with a two by four.

  He tilts his head and smirks. Yeah. He knows what he’s doing to me. I only wish I could do the same to him back.

  “Callahan, think you could leave your girl and do your job?” Lindsey barks.

  “I gotta go,” he says quietly, reaching down to play with my hair.

  “All right,” I tell him, wishing I didn’t have to stop looking at those pretty eyes.

  The strands of my hair slip through his fingers as he walks away, passing Lindsey without bothering to acknowledge her. It’s a sweet gesture meant to assure me, but I have to say, I’m really starting to dislike that girl.

  For the most part, I’ve done my best to ignore her, the other waitresses― and every other woman who struts in here seeking Callahan’s attention. And considering how many there’s been, I think I’ve done all right. Yet for all I think Lindsey is trashy, I can’t deny that she’s pretty―beautiful even. Aside from Becca, she’s probably the most stunning person here.

  I can’t say I don’t see her as competition because I do. She wants Callahan, and even though he doesn’t seem to want her, he didn’t want me either. At least not at first.

  Becca hurries to my side when she catches me heading toward our table. “What happened?” she whispers. “You were supposed to go for sensual and smooth. Not Bridget Jones meets Aquaman, or whatever the fuck works here.”

  I grin, keeping my voice to a murmur. “He told me he wants to pull my panties off with his teeth.”

  This time Becca’s the one stumbling. She laughs as I right her and throws her arm around me. “Trin. Holy shit!”

  “I know. Why do think I fell off the stool?”

  “Okay. You’re forgiven.” She leads me away from our group and to the end of the deck. Almost in perfect sync, we lean our arms on the banister and pretend to look at the beach. “So you’re going home with him, right?”

  “I want to,” I admit.

  She tilts her head. “So what’s wrong? You scared?”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  “Why? It’s not your first time,” she reminds me. “And you were so willing last night.”

  “Last night, I was scared, too, despite how willing I was,” I confess. I adjust my arms over the railing. “Besides, it is going to be my first time, with him.”

  “But you know what to do, right?” she asks.

  “In theory. I mean, I’m no virgin. And I’m not going to pretend like I didn’t have sex with Hunter for two years. But Callahan is a man capable of making me orgasm with our clothes on. He knows how to make me feel good. I’m not so sure I can do the same for him.”

  “Trin, you gave it right back the other day when you pulled down his shorts. You told me so yourself.”

  I laugh. “No, more like you dragged it out of me.”

  She bats her hands. “Oh, details, details.”

  Which was exactly what she had demanded. I didn’t share much, but she understood what I’d done well enough.

  She twists her back and leans against the railing. “What is it about him that worries you so much?”

  I stare out to the ocean, trying to word my thoughts so they actually make sense. “For starters, I thought I knew and felt passion. When I’ve had sex in the past it’s been . . . nice.”

  “Nice?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “You’ve described it the same way.”

  She fixes me with one of her slyer grins. “I’m a southern lady. ‘Nice’ is the polite way of saying I didn’t fall asleep or think about what I was going to buy online during the experience.”

  “Yeah. Tell me about it.” I roll my eyes, remembering, but then I pause, thinking about my brief yet very intimate experiences with Callahan. “I’d never describe what’s happened between me and Callahan as ‘nice.’”

  “No?” she teases.

  Oh, no. “But as amazing as it was, I couldn’t help but think of Hunter.”

  “What?” she practically screeches. “Why on earth would you be thinking about Sponge Bob when you’re getting naked with Hercules?”

  I nudge her. “I didn’t. But afterward, I couldn’t help it . . . just not in the way that you’re imagining.”

  “Then kindly explain. Because when it comes to Callahan and Hunter there simply is no comparison.”

  She’s right. To a point. “Becca, look, as much as I don’t want to, I can’t help wondering if I’d been a better lover, Hunter wouldn’t have looked elsewhere.”

  “Trin, Hunter is an asshole. Instead of looking at you, the way he should have, he was always preoccupied making sure everyone else was looking at him. He’s an arrogant son of a bitch who felt he could have anyone. If it hadn’t been that slut Blakeney, it would have been someone else.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not, Becks. But there’s a difference between getting someone off, and rocking someone’s world. You’ve told me so yourself. Hunter most certainly didn’t rock my world, county, or even my zip code. So how can I be sure he didn’t feel the same way about me?”

  “Callahan intimidates you, doesn’t he?” she asks gently.

  “Yeah,” I answer quietly. “I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

  “Are you planning on juggling sex toys while dressed up like Elvis?”

  I laugh. “Ah, no. That wasn’t the plan.”

  “Then you won’t embarrass yourself,” she tells me.

  “I’m not so sure.”

  She pushes my hair back and considers me. “Trin, you’re one of the most fearless people I know—whether you believe so or not. What is it about Callahan that has you all aflutter? And don’t tell me it’s the sex, because I know you well enough to know there’s more to it.”

  “Callahan’s special, Becks. I think . . .”I nibble on my bottom lip, wrestling with whether I should come clean, and more than a little nervous to do so.

  “You think what?”

  Becca is my best friend in the whole entire world―The one person who completely gets me. Even still, it’s hard to say the words, but I manage to meet her square in the face when I finally do. “I think I’m in love with him.”

  Her eyes widen briefly, but then her expression changes to one I can’t place. “You only just met him,” she says, looking away from me onto the sand below us. “And you’re only now getting to know him.”

  “I know what I feel,” I insist, recognizing she’s trying to talk me out of things, and downplaying my emotions. It upsets me because I know what Callahan means to me and because she knows I don’t use that word lightly.

  “I’m not simply attracted to him. I know that’s how it started, but it’s not what it’s become. I need him, Becca. Need to hear his deep voice, and feel his warmth when he tucks me against him.” I clasp her hand, speaking gently and trying to get her understand. “He shares his soul, knowing I’ll listen with my whole heart. And when he kisses me, I never want him to stop. It’s like something’s missing when we’re apart. Something I can’t stand being without.”

  She turns back to meet me eye to eye, her features more solemn than I’ve seen in a long time. “Then I think you’re in serious trouble, Trin―Hear me out,” she says, quickly when I try to argue. “You may think you’re falling in love with him. But that man’s already there. You don’t see the way he looks you, the way he takes y
ou in like no one else matters. And that night of the brawl, he wasn’t just angry some guy had touched you. He was genuinely scared something could happen to you.” She purses her lips as if afraid to continue. “Men, they don’t behave like that over someone they know in passing. They get that way over the women they love.”

  I cover my mouth, a little shaken by what she has to say, and how she phrased it. It’s one thing to think someone likes you. It’s another thing for someone who knows you―as well as Becca knows me―to flip it in a way that demonstrates what you’ve failed to see.

  She sighs, her beautiful face heartbreakingly sad. “Trin, you’re leaving in September. Now’s not a good time to fall in love,” she says.

  “I―”

  She shakes her head, cutting me off, and returning her attention to that sea none of us ever want to know life without. “Don’t tell me you won’t go, because you will. It was always your plan to travel the world and help those in need. It’s what your parents instilled in you, and what you were born and bred to do.” She swallows hard, surprising me by wiping away a tear. “You’re not going to give up helping villages full of people to help one man, no matter what you feel. I know you better than that.”

  I lean in close and wrap my arms around her. “Why are you crying?”

  “Because I wish you were that selfish, Trin―to stay behind and be with all of us who love you. But you’re not. Why do you think this summer is so important to us? Why do you think we’re working for a few dollars an hour instead of using our hard-earned degrees to make real money? We want to be with you, Trin—me, Hale, Sean, and Mason—the five of us together one last time.”

  “You act like we’ll never see each other.” I say it to make her feel better, but it’s a fear that’s crossed my mind too many times. Growing up often means moving on, and far away from those who know and love you best.

  She wipes another tear. “You may not be going to war, girl, but that doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous. Something can happen to you out there. Something bad. But that won’t stop you, will it? You’ll still go.”