by Maria Geraci
Kitty’s stomach slid to the sand. Four nights ago, the man had had his face between her thighs. Now, Steve could barely stand to look at her. She stood and wrapped a sheer black bathing suit skirt around her hips.
Pilar grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back in her chair. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to apologize to him.”
Shea shook her head. “We already told you that’s a bad idea.”
“It doesn’t feel right to leave it like this between us. I need to feng shui my life.”
“One yoga class and you’re talking crazy,” Shea said. “Seeing Steve today was a fluke. After a few weeks he’ll be gone and you’ll never have to think of him again.”
“What are you going to do? Walk over there and apologize to him in front of his whole family? ‘Sorry for calling you a pervert, dude. And by the way, thanks for giving me an orgasm and doing my laundry,’ ” Pilar mocked. “Didn’t you learn your lesson the other day? We told you not to confront him on the thong thing, and look how that turned out.”
“You’re right,” Kitty said, feeling both let down and relieved. He would probably throw sand in her face, anyway. Not that she would blame him.
“I’m always right,” Pilar said. “Remember that.”
“Except Jeff. You were wrong about him,” Shea reminded her.
“Will you stop with that already!” Pilar said.
Nick walked up with a sleeping Anthony in his arms, interrupting whatever comeback Shea was planning on. “I think he’s done,” Nick whispered to avoid waking his son.
“Poor baby,” Pilar said. “He’s going to hate missing the fireworks.”
Moose came up behind Nick, a look of exasperation on his face. “Casey is eating sand and vomiting it back up.”
Shea grabbed a bottle of water and rinsed out Casey’s mouth.
“Maybe we should call it a day,” Pilar said wistfully.
“Let’s go back to our house,” Nick suggested. “If we leave now, we’ll get home in time to see the fireworks from the deck.”
“Good idea,” Shea said. She folded her beach chair in two and began rolling towels and stuffing them in her bag.
Kitty glanced at Gus and his family. They were a boisterous group, laughing and having a good time. She should go back to Pilar’s house and watch the fireworks and try to forget all about Steve. Shea was right. Seeing him today was a fluke.
But was this how she wanted him to remember her? A semi-lunatic who not only didn’t rock his world but was too wimpy assed to go over and speak to him?
She couldn’t leave.
Not without apologizing.
She just couldn’t.
If it turned out badly as Shea and Pilar predicted, she wouldn’t tell them. On the other hand, if Steve accepted her apology and they ended things on a friendly note, she would love to tell Shea and Pilar, “I told you so.”
“I’m tired,” Kitty said, avoiding Pilar’s gaze. “And I have to get up early for my meeting with Ted. I think I’ll just go back to my house.”
“The offer to spend the night is still open,” Pilar said, sounding disappointed.
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
15
Kitty waited till Pilar’s car was long gone from the parking lot before she backtracked to the beach. “Hi,” she said, glancing around the Pappas clan.
Everyone smiled and said hello.
Except Steve. He didn’t look too friendly, but so far, no sand in her face. She would take that as a good sign.
“Join us,” Gus said, pulling up an empty beach chair.
“No, thanks. I don’t want to interrupt.” Might as well bite the bullet. “Do you have a minute?” she asked Steve.
Gus and Joey exchanged a look.
Steve gave her a look that said she had him by the short and curlies. He couldn’t very well turn her down without raising some brows.
They walked down the shoreline in silence. Families huddled around coolers while kids with flashlights chased crabs along the sand. A group of teenagers was playing volleyball in the dark. It took a while to find a spot where they wouldn’t be overheard.
“Is this okay?” she asked, indicating the empty stretch of beach. “I promise, I didn’t lure you here to go wacko on you again.”
He put his hands on his hips and stared at her.
“That was a joke,” Kitty said.
He nodded impatiently.
“Look, I’m sorry about the other day.”
“No problem.”
“I’ve never done that before. Stalked some guy down and accused him of stealing my underwear.”
“So, I’m the lucky one?”
“I guess so,” she said, hoping he would smile or do something to indicate he had forgiven her. “And thanks for doing my laundry.” She figured she’d leave out the orgasm part.
“Like I said, no problem.” He glanced down the beach. They were too far away to see clearly, but he was staring in the direction where his family was drinking sodas and making jokes. Kitty didn’t blame him for wanting to rejoin them.
She had thought apologizing would make her feel better. But Pilar and Shea were right. She felt worse than ever.
“I really didn’t think you’d taken my thong. I mean, not at first. Not that that’s an excuse or anything.”
His eyes locked onto hers. “Then what made you think it?”
It was hypocritical to expect him to accept her apology and not tell him the truth. “I did the very thing I accused you of with Joey. I told my friends about the other night. And . . . well, they sort of suggested it.”
He didn’t seem angry. Or even surprised. “Which one thought it first? The hot one or the sharp one?”
She couldn’t help but smile at his description of Shea and Pilar. “What am I, then?”
“I thought you were the nice one.”
Ouch. That wiped the smile from her face.
“I am nice,” she said, fumbling to find the right words. “The truth is . . . you hurt my feelings.”
He hurt her feelings? Where had that come from?
She tried to lighten the conversation. “You ruthlessly had sex with me twice and you never rang me again.”
His mouth twisted. It was the definitely the beginning of a smile. “What is it with you and movies? Didn’t Hugh Grant say that to Andie MacDowell in Four Weddings and a Funeral ?”
“Wow. You’re not supposed to know that. It’s a chick flick.”
“Yeah, but it had Andie MacDowell in it and there was nothing better on cable last night.” He glanced down the beach again.
She wasn’t ready to go back. Not yet.
“The truth is you were right. It was all too fast for me. I’ve never had sex with someone I’ve only known a few hours. Maybe that messed with my head. I don’t know. I just know that while it might not have been great for you, it was the best sex I’ve had in a long time. Probably the best I’ve ever had, actually.”
He inhaled sharply.
“You were right about something else too. I was pissed. I’ve never woken up alone before. But instead of admitting I was mad, it was easier to think you were a shit who steals women’s underwear.”
Even in the dark, she could tell there was a subtle change in his expression. “You had every right to be mad. I shouldn’t have left without saying good-bye.”
For the first time in days, it felt like the crick in her neck was gone. “So actually, it’s all your fault.”
This time he did smile.
But she wanted to make him laugh.
And then she realized what she really wanted was a repeat of the other night. “Can I ask a question? Did you leave your snake on purpose?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you left it on purpose so you’d have an excuse to come back.” She held her breath while she waited for his answer.
“You have good instincts. Maybe you should listen to your gut more, instead of your friends.”
“They were only trying to help.”
He shrugged.
“Can I ask another question? Were you ever going to call me?”
His gaze never wavered. “I hadn’t planned on it.”
“Oh.” So much for her instincts.
“Then you showed up the next day in those black heels, and I changed my mind.”
“Because you liked my shoes?”
“Because I liked what was in them.”
“And then I called you a pervert.”
“And a liar. Don’t forget that.” He wasn’t glancing down the beach every few seconds anymore. Instead, he was focusing on her legs, and her hips, and all the rest of her. Like Pilar said, she did look pretty damn good in this bikini.
Listen to your gut, Kit.
She reached up, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. She didn’t know who was more startled—him or her.
Steve shook his head. “I must be crazy.” Before she could respond, he kissed her back. Only his kiss involved major tongue action. It was slow and deep and sent shivers down her spine.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “I think I just saw stars.”
“It’s fireworks.”
“I saw those too.”
He placed his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her head up. The night sky burst with green- and blue-colored lights. “It’s the Fourth of July fireworks.”
“Oh.”
He kissed her again. This time, she heard music.
Steve jerked his cell phone from the pocket of his swim trunks. “This better be good.”
Kitty caught her breath as Steve listened wordlessly to the caller on the other end.
“Thanks, Dave. I owe you.” He flipped his phone shut. “I have to go.”
“Now?”
“Sorry. It can’t be helped.”
He turned and began walking down the beach without further explanation. She had to take extra-long strides to keep up with him. He didn’t try to hold her hand, or offer up a reason for his sudden turnaround. He was more distant now than when she had first approached him to apologize. Fireworks exploded in the air above them. She felt ready to explode too.
Damn it. He couldn’t get her all worked up and not follow through. Wasn’t there some kind of rule against that? If not, then there should be.
She grabbed his elbow, forcing him to halt in his tracks. “What’s so important that you have to take off right now?”
“It’s family problems. Nothing you want to hear about.”
“Try me.”
He hesitated. “That was my old business partner on the phone. My stepson ran away from home. I promised my ex I’d help if I could.”
“Terrie? Is that what the call was about the other day?”
“Yeah.”
“Poor baby. He must be scared out of his mind.”
“That ‘poor baby’ is eighteen. And it’s his mother who’s scared out of her mind.”
“Oh.”
“I haven’t seen the kid in almost a year. But I’ve always liked him.”
“Of course you have to help.”
Steve flipped his cell open and glanced at the screen. “It’s almost nine fifteen.” He looked up at the sky. The fireworks show was now in full swing. “I hate to ask, but I need a favor. Nathan’s on a Greyhound headed to Mobile. There’s a layover in Panama City. If I leave now, I just might make it, but I didn’t drive here. We all came in Angela’s van. Do you think you could give me a lift to Gus’s so I can get my truck? I don’t want to drag the kids away from the fireworks.”
“What time is the bus scheduled to arrive?”
“Ten.”
“You’ll never make it to Panama City in forty-five minutes if we have to drive back to Gus’s. Not tonight. The streets are too crowded. Why don’t I drive you to the bus station myself?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t mind. Besides, I owe you after the other day.”
“You don’t owe me anything. We had a good time for one night. Let’s forget about the rest.”
He wanted to forget about that incredible kiss down the beach?
It was as if she had never apologized. Never dug up the courage to humiliate herself by telling him he had hurt her feelings. It was as if the last thirty minutes between them had never happened.
He might not have thrown sand in her face, but she still felt like something sharp landed in her eye. She blinked hard. “If you want to get to Panama City in time to catch your stepson, then you’re going to have to book it. It’s either me or the van. I guarantee you’ll never make it if you have to go all the way back to Gus’s to get your truck.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re right. I’ll take the ride. Thanks,” he added.
“No problem,” she said, purposely repeating that annoying expression of his. But if he caught the sarcasm in her voice, he didn’t show it.
16
Kitty drove east on Highway 98. Steve sat next to her in the passenger seat staring gloomily ahead. “Can’t you drive any faster?” he asked. It was the first thing he’d said since they’d left the beach.
“I could, but if I get stopped by the cops, you’re paying for my ticket.”
He eyed her bikini top. “There’s not a cop alive that would give you a ticket. Not while you’re wearing that.”
She still had the sheer skirt tied around her hips, but her face felt sweaty and her hair was tucked up in a baseball cap. Her five-dollar flip-flops came from the bargain rack at Wal-Mart. She didn’t exactly feel like vamp material.
“Wow. What century are you living in? Ever heard of female cops? First off, I’m not planning on getting stopped by anyone. The last thing I need is the points on my insurance. And secondly, if we do get stopped, ticket or no ticket, it’s going to waste too much time, so going faster isn’t going to help.”
“You’re right,” he said. “Sorry.”
“And they say women are backseat drivers,” Kitty muttered. She focused her attention back on the road, but every once in a while she couldn’t help but sneak a peek at him.
Steve had put on a faded green Ron Jon Surf Shop T-shirt over his swim trunks. His dark hair was wind tousled and his mouth seemed permanently set in a grim line—which only served to emphasize that gorgeous bottom lip of his. There was no denying the man was a hunka-hunka burnin’ love. But he was also moody and way too mysterious for her taste. And Shea was right. The guy had no sense of humor.
So what if he was a great lay? Like he said, they’d had fun for one night. Kaput. The End. Thank God they’d been interrupted back at the beach before things had gotten out of hand.
If by some chance she ran into him again, she could hold her head high. She’d done the right thing and apologized, and now she was doing him a favor. As far as she was concerned, the score was even.
Still, they were both adults. There was no reason to ignore one another. She would take the high road and initiate some small talk. “You like to surf?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Your T-shirt,” she said.
He glanced down at his shirt like he’d forgotten what he was wearing. “I surfed some when I was a kid.”
“I could never stay on the board long enough to make it any fun,” Kitty said. “And the waves on the Gulf aren’t much to brag about, not like on the Atlantic side.” She eyed his Ron Jon T-shirt again. It was worn thin like it had been washed a lot. “Is that where you’re from? Cocoa Beach?”
“I grew up there, but I’ve spent the last ten years in Tampa.”
“Where you worked construction?”
“Yeah.”
Kitty sighed. Screw him. She had tried, but the strong silent type was definitely overrated.
An increase in traffic forced her to slow down. She concentrated on making the green light ahead of them, then turned right on Henderson where bumper-to-bumper traffic caused them to come to a standstill. The downtown area was crowded with pedestrians h
uddled by the marina watching the overhead fireworks show. The tiny Greyhound bus station was overrun with cars. Kitty parked in the nearest empty spot, which conveniently happened to be in the parking lot of a McDonald’s restaurant. She normally didn’t do fast food—not if she could help it—but it had seemed like another lifetime since that last hot dog at Pilar’s. And besides, it was hard to pass up a McDonald’s. She wondered if Ted’s plan to bring Whispering Bay into the twenty-first century included the Golden Arches. Maybe on the way back they could grab something to eat. Not an entire meal. But definitely some French fries. Just this once.
She opened her car door. “If we run, we might catch him.”
Steve reached across the seat and slammed her door shut. “Good idea. But I’ll be the one doing the running. You stay here.”
“In the car?”
“Yeah, and put the top back up.”
“No way. It’ll get too hot.”
“You’re not going out there dressed like that.”
“This is a beach town. Everyone walks around in their bathing suit.”
“I’m going to a bus station, not a snow-cone stand, and not everyone looks like you do in a bathing suit. Look, the kid’s probably already here. I don’t have time to argue, and I sure as hell don’t have time to fight off any horny drunks.”
A tiny part of her found his Neanderthal attitude flattering. A very tiny part. “Maybe some women get turned on by that caveman routine, but I’m not one of them.”
He stared her down.
Kitty fidgeted in her seat.
He was really good at this staring-down thing. “Fine,” she snapped. “Hand over your shirt, because I’m not staying in the car.”
He yanked off his T-shirt, revealing a lot of naked male chest. A lot of muscled naked male chest.
Kitty let out an exaggerated sigh. It was a little disconcerting to be upstaged by your date. Not that a trip to the Greyhound bus station could be considered a date. “I’m going to be the one fighting off the horny drunks,” she said.
Steve raised a brow.
