Tallulah Heartbeat (Tallulah Cove Book 1)

by Casey Hagen

  It wasn’t fair, and it didn’t matter how much she thought it or said it. Ken wasn’t coming back.

  Not tonight, please. Don’t let the sadness visit me tonight.

  After he parked, he circled around to her side and opened the door for her.

  She stopped just before they reached the sand, slipped off her sandals, and hooked them over her finger.

  He laced his fingers with hers and led her toward the water and the harder-packed sand. “You want to tell me about your husband?”

  She glanced up at him through her lashes, and then her gaze darted away. “Are you sure you want to hear this? I mean, we’re kind of on a date and all…”

  He squeezed her hand. “He was a part of you, a big part… so, yeah, I want to hear about him.”

  So much for holding that sorrow at bay. Her gaze settled on the faint line of the water where small waves broke on the beach. “His name was Ken. He was an electrician. We were married for about three years before the accident.”

  “He was good to you?”

  She smiled. “Yes, very good to me. The best.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “The typical. He went out, just for a pleasure ride. A car pulled out, never even saw him. He T-boned the car.”

  “I’m sorry, Abby.”

  “Yes, well, I tell myself at least he died instantly. His body was thrown seventy-five feet. The people there, then the doctors later, they uh…” she cleared her throat. “They reassured me that he didn’t feel anything. He didn’t even know what had happened.”

  “Did their words comfort you?” He stopped her and turned her to face him. Cupping her jaw, he tilted her face up to his. “Did you find peace with their explanation?”

  Her gaze locked on his, and a lone tear rolled down her cheek. “No, I haven’t found peace.”

  “Why is that?” His quiet voice cut through the turmoil taking hold inside her.

  “Because it was my fault,” she whispered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m the one who told him he could get the bike. I didn’t want him to. I worried, but he worked so hard. I gave in. And now he’s dead.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  BEN AND ABBY STOOD THERE, in almost the same place he ran into the boy, Blake, for the first time.

  He’d seen him twice now; the second time, that very morning, the turrets had not been built, and Ben helped with adding those to his two-story castle. He didn’t know why he kept playing with him. Other than his nieces and nephews, he made it a policy to avoid children, but something about this little boy had hooked him.

  So, he’d been spending a lot of time at the beach lately. In a way, it was a good thing.

  The sun had gone down an hour earlier, leaving the glow of streetlights from along the Pacific Highway and solar lights along the wooden walkway winding through the rocks on the way down to the water. Not that it was much, but that combined with the time he’d spent on the sand lately, made him confident.

  Christ, they were a pair. He couldn’t forgive himself for a son he gave up, and she couldn’t forgive giving her husband a bit of happiness that turned to tragedy. “It wasn’t your fault. It could have happened to him in a car.”

  “I tell myself that all the time. He could have gotten hurt on the job, in the car, hiking. You name it, I’ve thought it. It doesn’t change the fact that I wish I could go back to the day I said yes and change my mind.”

  His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the view of her glowing skin, the swell of her breasts curving just over the top of her dress, rising and falling with each breath, captured him.

  Abby wore radiance and light the way warriors wore armor.

  He stopped to wrap his arms around her.

  She was too young. He couldn’t be what she needed in a man. He couldn’t give her a family, and she was the kind of woman who deserved everything.

  But he was just enough of a bastard to take tonight. And maybe a few more if she allowed it.

  He dropped his forehead to hers, her breath mingling with his as he held her and wished he could take away her pain. She shocked the shit out of him when she dropped her sandals to the sand and curled her fingers into the front of his shirt, tipped her face up, and pressed her soft mouth against his.

  His lips played over hers, exploring, tasting, taking his sweet time savoring her in a way he hadn’t ever savored a woman. The sweet strawberry flavor of her drink lingered there, just a hint of flavor on her pink mouth.

  The minute her lips parted, he tasted her with his tongue, a brief dip, but powerful enough to know he wanted more. A whole lot more.

  She pulled back, just enough, and kissed his chin. “What about you, Ben? What about forgiving yourself for your son?”

  He stiffened at her bold question, the way she turned the tables on him.

  “Hey, don’t get like that. Did you ever think that maybe he had a really great life, and he might thank you for giving him that?”

  He hadn’t thought about that. Of course, it was possible, but Christ, he gave his son away. He trusted strangers to vet adoptive parents for him. How could he have done that? And what if they were wrong? What if his son had a shitty life and would have been better off with him after all?

  “Hey, I see all kinds of turmoil in that head of yours, Ben. Don’t do that to yourself. Seems to me, you and I have a couple choices. I can work on accepting that shit happens and that’s why my husband is dead. You, you can focus on the very likely scenario that your son grew up happy, healthy, and became a good man because you loved him enough to give him that.”

  He closed his eyes, not wanting to hold on to that hope. He knew if he ever found out different, it would swallow him whole, but then so had this.

  “Shit,” he muttered, shaking his head.

  She cupped his jaw. “Hey, I’ll do it if you do it. Come on, don’t you want to do it with me?” she said with a quick grin, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

  He let out a gruff laugh. “Are you offering?”

  “I might be.”

  “I’m going to give you a chance to think that one through. As painful as it is,” he teased, adjusting his pants. Okay, so he really did have to adjust his pants, but damned if he would tell her that.

  “What if we never see each other again after tonight?”

  “Oh, we’re seeing each other.” He hooked his arms under her round ass and picked her right up off her feet, making her squeal. He hadn’t thought this through. This put her breast at mouth level, and just like that, his mouth ran dry with the image of dipping his tongue into that cleavage of hers and having a taste.

  Just a taste. God, he was a liar. If he had one taste, he’d have a second, a third.

  “Ben?” she whispered, hands clutching his short hair.

  “Yeah,” he ground out, his eyes roaming over the swell of her skin. He leaned forward and grazed his lips over one curve, leaving a trail of kisses along the way. When he dipped his tongue between the two, she whimpered and held his head to her.

  “I want more.” Her voice dropped to a lusty whisper, telling him just how aroused he’d gotten her.

  He loosened his grip and let her body slide down his, her toes sinking into the cool sand. He could give her more, right here. Not everything, she wasn’t ready, but more? Oh, he was on board with that idea.

  He dropped to his knees, and her eyes widened in surprise. His hands shook as he cupped her ankles and slid his hands up her smooth skin, exploring, memorizing, until they disappeared under her skirt.

  She swayed and braced her hands on his shoulder, her heavy-lidded gaze hot on what he was doing. The feel of her smooth thighs under his palms had him hard in a way he couldn’t ever remember being. He’d give her pleasure and then he’d walk crooked, but it would be worth it to see how she looked when she lost control.

  She gasped when he slid his fingers under the straps of her panties stretched over her soft, round hips and worked them down her thighs. When he go
t to her ankles, she lifted one foot, then the other, a willing participant in what was about to happen. If the way her breathing had deepened was any indication, an eager participant even.

  He took those panties and tucked them into his back pocket, with no plans of returning them to her. He intended to see her again, but if fate stepped in, he’d have that souvenir of this time together.

  Gathering her skirt in his fists, he lifted the fabric and bared her most private parts to his voracious gaze. The moonlight shone just enough that he could see the heart of her, in the V of her thighs, right there for the taking.

  He swallowed hard. “Last chance to change your mind.” He closed his eyes, praying she would stay brave and still want this as much as he did.

  She let out a whoosh of air and nodded.

  He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “Not good enough, Abby. Tell me what you want.”

  “I, umm…” She bit her lip and winced.

  “Say it, Abby. Tell me what you want from me.”

  Her eyes drifted shut. “I want you to taste me,” she whispered, her face turning beet-red.

  The impact of her words drew a low growl from him. He leaned forward, inhaled her sweet scent, and licked into her. Hard.

  He didn’t go easy.

  He didn’t show her grace.

  He went full bore into what he wanted to do to her.

  She moaned and swayed on her feet. He clenched her thighs tighter, holding her up before licking again, harder, faster, over and over, suddenly needing the taste of her more than his next breath. Each slide of his tongue over the tight nub buried between her lips, each taste of her arousal drove him to take more and more.

  She panted over him, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

  Her thighs shook.

  Her fingernails dug into his shoulders.

  And still he kept on while his cock throbbed painfully in his jeans. He’d have to do something about that when he got home, and he was building one hell of a memory to relieve himself to.

  The muscles in her thighs grew rigid under his hands, her body stiffened, and she screamed as her release tore through her, drenching his eager mouth.

  Suddenly he wanted more. So much more. He didn’t let her catch her breath before he slid two fingers inside her and curled them forward. Moving in and out and maintaining the assault from his tongue, he drove her to the brink again.

  Her orgasm slammed into her so hard she locked onto his fingers, making it impossible to move. She collapsed over his shoulder, unable to hold herself up any longer while she gasped for each breath. In her struggle for air, she couldn’t cry out, and instead a low groan vibrated through her into him.

  He held her there while her muscles slowly released. When they did, he pulled his fingers free and drew her down into his lap, and she slumped against him and gathered herself.

  He brushed at the strands of hair that clung to her skin. “That was incredible,” he murmured into her hair.

  “Mmm,” she hummed against his chest. “Ben? Can we do that again?”

  He laughed into her hair. “God, I hope so.”

  They sat a while, both quiet, her chilled skin finally telling him it was time to go.

  He walked her back to her car, his arm around her the entire way. Reluctantly, he opened the passenger door for her and waited as she climbed in. Returning to the parking lot of the Little Laguna, he parked in the same space she had chosen earlier.

  Meeting around the back of the car, he cupped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her. He didn’t dare touch lower or he’d throw her over his shoulder caveman-style and haul her home.

  As much as he would love to do that, especially with her warm lips teasing him and those white teeth of hers nibbling on his bottom lip, it wasn’t the time. He suspected she hadn’t been with anyone since Ken, and he would respect that. He’d let her tell him when she was ready. Hopefully, she realized that he planned to let her set the pace.

  “Will I see you again?” she mumbled against his lips, still kissing him.

  He laughed. “You want to see me again?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Then you’ll see me again.” He gave her one last kiss, tucked her into her car, and watched her leave. He didn’t have her number or her address, but in a few days, he’d drop into Tallulah Cove Dental and maybe get a glimpse of another pair of those cute pants she liked to wear.

  By the time he got home, it was almost ten. Normally, he’d be in bed by then. During the week, he was up at five a.m. every day. Builders started early, especially when dealing with the strong California sun.

  He quickly sorted through the mail, stopping when he spotted a business envelope from Tulare County Private Investigators. His skin prickled.

  He dropped the envelope and snagged a beer from the fridge. Leaning back against the granite counter, he eyed the mail as though it were a snake hissing, ready to strike. He drank half of his beer before his need for self-preservation fled and his curiosity got the best of him. With a satisfying rip along the edge, he tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside.

  Dear Mr. Ben Davenport,

  My name is Alan Hodges, Lead Investigator at Tulare County Private Investigators. I’m contacting you on behalf of my client, the biological son you put up for adoption in 1986, who seeks to reunite with you. Time is of the essence, as there are pressing matters involved. Please call my cell the minute you get this letter.

  His son had found him. Jesus. He went numb. Couldn’t feel a damned thing. His heart raced, and a dull hum started in his ears.

  And from the sounds of it, something might be wrong. Ben yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number. This Alan guy said the minute he got it so that’s what he’d do.

  The phone rang once before a deep voice said, “Hello, Ben.”

  Ben pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it with narrowed eyes. “How did you know it was me?”

  “I have your cell number. I have your address even, but in adoption matters I like to send the letter first. Not all biological parents are happy to be found.”

  “I’ve got to be honest… I’m not sure if I’m happy or not.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you are, and it’s perfectly normal. I’ve had some grown kids come to me, looking for a parent, acting completely normal, and then when they meet that parent, all hell breaks loose.”

  “Yeah, well, let’s not do that,” Ben said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

  “Well, in this case, things are a bit different. Your son, Chris, is trying to find you to help save his little girl. She has leukemia and needs a bone marrow transplant. They’re struggling to find a donor,” Alan said.

  Ben paced. “Did you guys reach out to Megan, too?”

  “Megan is deceased,” Alan said quietly.

  Ben dropped onto a dining room chair and held his head in his hands. Megan was dead? Why that bothered him so much, he didn’t know. They hadn’t seen each other in thirty years. Shortly after their son—er—Chris was born, they broke up, and she moved out to Maryland to live with extended family and get a fresh start.

  There had been no communication, but he had hoped she was out there somewhere, living life, having fun, moving on, and finding a way to forgive herself for what they had done.

  “How?” he said, pushing the words past his dry throat.

  Alan sighed. “It wasn’t pretty, Ben. She had a drinking problem. A bad one. She died of cirrhosis a little over three years ago.”

  So, she hadn’t forgiven herself. Or maybe other things had happened. Shit. He didn’t know. Right now, he didn’t have time to care, because maybe he could help the living. “What do I need to do?”

  “You’re willing then?” Alan asked, his voice rising in surprise.

  “Jesus. Of course. I gave him up so he’d have the best life possible, not because I was a selfish prick,” Ben growled.

  “Easy, Ben. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that it�
��s involved. Maybe you want to think about it because I don’t want to give these people false hope.”

  He’d followed through on giving up his son, the single hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. He sure as hell would follow through on whatever they needed to save their child. “There’s nothing to think about. If there’s something I can do, I’ll do it. Doesn’t matter if it’s involved or not.”

  “Okay then. Good,” Alan said, clearing his throat.

  “Does Chris want to meet me?” Ben asked, hating the bit of hope that crept into his voice.

  The pause on the other end of the line told him all he needed to know. “Uh, no, not yet.”

  And wasn’t that just a kick in the ball sac. It didn’t matter. Ben had been doing the right thing for this long. He’d do the right thing again.

  “Tell me what to do.”

  “Your HLA type can be tested at Good Samaritan Hospital in San Jose. After that, there’s nothing for you to do but wait until you hear from them as to whether you’re a match.”

  Ben grabbed his keys from the counter and headed for the door. “I can be on the road in an hour.”

  “Whoa. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but first thing in the morning is fine. The staff will be there by seven a.m. I’ll call and get everything set up for your arrival.”

  Yeah, because tests didn’t happen at nine p.m. Time to get a grip, guy. “Thanks,” Ben said, his throat thick.

  “I should be thanking you.”

  “Alan…” Ben cleared his throat when his voice broke. “What’s her name?”

  “Your granddaughter’s name is Sophie.”

  The line went quiet. Ben lost all ability to speak as he choked up. His son managed to grow up and have a family of his own. It’s everything he had hoped for on that long-ago day when the rain poured outside, the rivulets running down the hospital windows, cocooning them in their misery.

  And Ben, he had a granddaughter.