by Becca Barnes
Tentative.
Now that wouldn’t do.
I tipped her chin up and kissed her back in earnest. There were echoes of our connection from earlier. Sparks of energy and raw desire catapulted to my extremities. The protectiveness from earlier morphed into something more primal, more rough. The sensation seared from the inside-out.
I was like a kid with a treasured toy, ready to swat away the first hand that dared try to take it from me.
My breath caught in my throat. I tore myself away from her when I realized what it was I was feeling.
Possessiveness.
Wrong. Ellie wasn’t mine. I didn’t want anyone to be mine, much less someone potentially tangled up in one of my business ventures.
What did I know anyway? That intensity of emotion wasn’t one I’d felt before. Certainly not with Felicia. Not with anyone.
So this? This was probably just good, old-fashioned lust.
And by the way Ellie grasped my neck and pulled my back toward her, her nails digging into my flesh, it would seem that lust was what she was feeling, too.
Lust, I could do.
I let out a growl as I grazed my lips along the delicate skin under her earlobe, eliciting a breathy moan from Ellie. I couldn’t tell whether the shiver of pleasure that passed between us belonged to her or to me.
Either way, didn’t matter. Because the throb in my groin? Definitely simple lust.
Good. Uncomplicated. Keep it casual.
So why did I feel a twinge of disappointment?
I pushed any lingering misgivings aside as I focused on making her moan again.
The music had stopped, not that I cared or Ellie had even seemed to notice. I lowered her down onto a blanket that had been laid out over the sand next to the cabana.
“I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon,” whispered Ellie.
That did me in. Picturing her from earlier. That scrap of see-through fabric that had no business calling itself underwear. God. What if she was wearing those now?
She looked incredible tonight in this dress, but what I really wanted to see her wear was nothing but that underwear and the well-worn tank top from today.
The tank top with the store logo on it.
The logo I was doing my level best to buy. From her stepmother.
Damn it.
I pulled away, wincing.
This was stupid, to hold back. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong. But there had been a lingering hurt in Ellie’s face when she had mentioned her stepmother that I recognized. I didn’t know what all had gone down between them, but I knew the strain of betrayal when I saw it. I’d seen it in the mirror after Felicia had stabbed me between the ribs.
It was because of that very pain that I’d made the decision against letting personal feelings cloud my business dealings. Ever. And I’d made that decision for moments just like these, when I was tempted beyond measure.
I wanted more than anything to kiss Ellie so hard that I forgot my own name.
But I couldn’t forget my name. It was printed on a dozen business cards in my pocket. James MacCarthy, junior, Vice President of MacCarthy Enterprises.
I’d been handed a lot of information tonight. It felt like a round of live ammo in my hands. Kat owned the store. Ellie was clearly wounded by that fact. Kat didn’t seem to give a shit about the store. Whereas Ellie was obviously completely and utterly devoted to it.
None of it made sense.
I needed to process all this. And I couldn’t--and shouldn’t—do that with my body wrapped around this gorgeous, smart, feisty woman who kept snatching my breath away every time I caught a glance of her.
“Is everything okay?” asked Ellie, brushing a section of hair away from my eyes, worry painted across her face.
The action, so tender and caring, stabbed me even deeper.
“I’m fine. I just, uhh—” want more than anything to throw you down on the beach and have my way with you, but I’m a coward who’s too afraid to tell you what I’ve been hiding.
“Is it the barbecue?” she asked. “It’s kind of spicy if you’re not used to it.”
“Yeah. It was really spicy.” Not a lie. But the clenching in my stomach had nothing to do with chili powder.
Ellie sat up and smoothed out her skirt. If she was disappointed, she hid it well. Which was hot in itself. The women I usually dated would have been acting all hurt and needy and self-conscious right about now.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll take you home.” I rubbed her shoulder.
“That’s okay. We’re right by your place. You’d be doubling back. It’s a nice night. I’ll just walk.”
Like hell she would walk home alone in the dark.
And there it was again. That primal emotion welled up once more. A fierce protectiveness like I’d never known. I’d rather jab this barbecue-covered spork in my thigh than let something happen to her on the mean streets of...Lavender Beach.
Okay, Ellie would probably be perfectly fine without my dashing show of chivalry, but there was another reason for showing her home. I simply wanted to spend as much time with her as I could. Since the moment we met, I’d found myself craving her presence.
“Nah,” I said. “I’d feel better if I made sure you got to your place safe.”
I tried to play it off casually, but as I slipped my arm around her shoulder, it just felt...right.
But feeling right? That was all wrong.
Fifteen
Ellie
After I got home--disappointingly early, but I refused to dwell on that--I rubbed my cheek, right where Mac had planted the gentlest of kisses when he’d bid me goodnight at the point.
I was past the point of trying to convince myself that the spark I felt around him was entirely one-sided. There was no hiding the look on his face when we’d danced. I knew that look—not because it was one that a guy had ever bestowed on me before—because it was one I’d hoped to receive from a man someday.
And when he’d kissed me, not that little goodnight peck, but really kissed me on the blanket, it had been like the whole earth melted away around us. It had been a temporary pocket of perfection.
Well, a pocket of perfection before Willy’s barbecue special had attacked.
Can’t hold his spicy food, I added to the mental list I had been forming: Things I Know About Mac. To be fair, I should have given him more warning on the hidden jalapeños.
Thoughtful, generous, funny, able to quote any Will Ferrell movie without breaking a sweat, gorgeous without being a total peacock about it. And there was that whole ability to make my knees buckle with one simple glance.
My text alert went off, and I checked my phone. It was from Mac.
“When can I get a rain date?”
I bit my lip as I typed out a flirtatious, “Looks like rain’s in the forecast for tomorrow.”
Mmm. Rain date. What would it be like to get caught out in a hot, humid Florida storm with him? I fanned herself at the prospect and the possibilities.
It didn’t take him long to reply.
“Until tomorrow then.”
I drew in a steadying breath as I mounted the stairs to my tiny living space but turned around halfway up. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep anytime soon. My whole body was humming and thrumming like a tightly wound Stradivarius violin.
I started to scrub out one of the sinks, but then changed directions and headed across the quiet courtyard that connected the spa to the store. Might as well get caught up on the books and inventory. That would knock me out like an extra-strength Ambien if anything would. And it would be good to get caught up. Tomorrow was going to be busy with the adoption event.
I was surprised to see a light still on when I entered the adjacent building.
“Hello?” I called as I walked back to the office. But it was probably just that Gretchen had forgotten to turn off the lights when she’d closed up.
But when I reached the back, I saw my stepmother hunched over t
he laptop.
“Hey,” I said, confused. “What are you doing here?”
Kat whirled around, eyes wide.
“You scared me,” she hissed.
”Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Just wondering why you’re still here.” Or rather, why Kat was here at all. She normally couldn’t be bothered to show up, period. And she certainly never tackled the boring, after-hours, behind-the-scenes tasks like balancing the books, placing orders, or cleaning.
“No reason.” Kat clicked the laptop shut. “I needed to look something up, and I was already here.”
“You were already here?” As far as I knew, Kat hadn’t been at the store at all that day. And only for twenty minutes the entire week, when I had had to call her in to sign some order forms and the payroll checks.
“I swung by right after Gretchen closed up. Look, I don’t have to defend myself to you.”
”Of course not.” And yet, Kat was acting awfully defensive.
”Why are you here?” snapped Kat.
Umm, because I spent every waking minute of my life devoted to keeping this place running smoothly. To the exclusion of having a life, some might say. Tonight had been the first date night I’d had in what seemed like forever. Also the best date night I’d had in forever, even cut short as it had been.
Yet here I was. Working.
“You know. Checking the books, doing inventory, sweeping up, changing the toilet paper, emptying the trash, wiping up the inevitable dog piddle spots,” I answered honestly.
“Oh. Well...go ahead.” Kat flipped the laptop back open, careful to keep its screen shielded from my view.
Kat could actually be quite charming when she wanted to be. Apparently, she just never had the urge around me.
I fought my own urge to flip Kat the bird behind her back. It wasn’t even that I disliked Kat all that much as a person. The sad fact was I didn’t know her well enough to dislike her. I did dislike her lack of investment in the family business, not that I considered Kat to be family by any stretch of the word.
But truly, I held no ongoing animosity toward the woman.
At one point, I had even hoped we could be friends.
That was when it hit me. What I felt every time I spent any time with my stepmother. Disappointment.
I still remembered the look on Kat’s face when we’d sat in the lawyer’s office the day he’d explained the inheritance issue. No one could fake that kind of shock, when Kat found out she was now the sole owner of S’Paw Box. And there had been something else there, too. Panic.
Kat had never shown any interest in the store when my dad had been alive. Even less so now. For the most part, I didn’t mind. I was free to run the store and spa how I wanted. They’d flourished under my watch.
Growing up, Dad and I had lived in the house next door, the space that was currently the spa. When he and Kat got married, the space was too cramped for the three of us, so we’d moved into a condo three blocks from the beach--the same place Kat still lived.
My father had kept the house as a rental property while he was alive. After his death, I had pointed out its increased profit potential by converting it into a salon.
Kat’s only question had been, “Would that mean I’d have to work over there?”
I had had to bite my tongue to hold back a snappy retort of, “Wouldn’t that imply you work at all?”
But that brought the question back up. What was Kat doing here at the store on a Friday night?
I set about restocking our bestsellers, taking a quick inventory of items I needed to add to upcoming orders, all the while keeping Kat nestled in the corner of my vision.
Finally, after nearly an hour, Kat turned off the computer and locked it away in the top drawer of the desk. That drawer hadn’t been locked in years. She gave me an odd look that I couldn’t read, then she grabbed her keys to head home.
“Goodnight,” I murmured. Kat gave a half nod in return.
The second Kat’s car headlights turned the corner, I rushed over to the desk. I grabbed a paper clip out of a jar on the corner, unbending it to a straight piece of wire as quickly as I could.
My father had always kept a stash of candy hidden in the locked drawer of that desk, and I had learned from an early age how to pick the lock in twenty seconds flat.
“Come on,” I whispered as I prodded the wire around in the keyhole until I heard and felt the telltale click of success.
As I pulled the laptop out, I made an oath that if I found something personal, I’d put the computer back without a moment’s hesitation.
It took a few minutes for the old laptop to boot up.
Time for an upgrade—research computer prices, I added to my constantly growing mental work to-do list.
But then the website that Kat had been looking at popped up. It took a moment for it to register, what I was looking at. When it finally did, I let out an audible gasp.
Competing senses of dread and yearning filled me and pushed any lingering to-do’s clear out of my brain.
Carefully, I closed down the laptop and slid it into the drawer right where it had been, locking it back up.
If it was war my stepmother wanted, it was war she would get.
Sixteen
Mac
I had never believed in love at first sight until I walked into the entrance of S’Paw Box Saturday morning. I tumbled head-over-heels the moment our eyes met. There in front me was the most gorgeous redhead I’d ever seen in my entire life.
Well, redhead with flecks of white and brown. And the cutest little black nose in existence.
I didn’t know if the dog was a he or a she. The only thing I knew for damn sure was that dog was mine.
“Hey! You came! I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Ellie rushed around the counter and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. I let my lips graze around to her mouth, but I wouldn’t be sidetracked.
“That one.” I pointed to the long-haired dachshund who was scratching at the base of the kennel trying to get to me.
“That one...as in, you choose that one to adopt?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you want to meet—?”
“No.”
“Oh-okay. Her name’s Lulu.” Ellie lifted her out of the kennel, but the dog scrambled to try to reach me instead.
“Hello, sweetheart.” Even I was surprised when I willingly—gladly—let Lulu lick me on the chin in ecstatic doggy kisses. I glanced around the store, and suddenly...I got it. This whole luxury pet supply subscription box had been a clinical study so far. Numbers and percentages that added up to dollar signs.
Not anymore. Now, I wanted to buy Lulu not one, but five of everything there. Any toy or treat she so much as glanced at would be hers.
“Umm, you should know that Lulu is what we consider to be a senior dog,” said Ellie. “She’s eight years old. She was relinquished when her owner had to move to assisted living a couple months ago.”
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah. It was rough. Heh. Ruff. Sorry. No pun intended. She’s a small breed, so she probably has at least five more years that she’ll—”
“I don’t care if she only has five weeks left. She’s coming home with me. And I’ll make sure she has the best medical care money can provide.” I snoogled her on the nose, and my voice rose an octave involuntarily. “Yes, I will. Yes, I will.”
“Boy”—Ellie leaned back against the counter and laughed—“You fell hard.”
“Yup.” I snuggled Lulu to my chest as she nuzzled under my neck. Some new emotion bloomed deep within me. It was like a puzzle piece snapping into place. I still had a craving for home, but I knew that wherever it was, Lulu would be there. With me.
“She really is a sweet girl.” Ellie scratched Lulu behind the ear affectionately and then leaned in closer to sniff her. “Who could use a bath.”
“Shush.” I covered Lulu’s silky soft ears. “She’s perfect.”
Ellie took my fingers an
d shoved them in my face to get a whiff, and okay. Lulu could use a bath.
“Hey, Gretchen,” called Ellie, and the teenage clerk emerged from the back office. “Do you mind cutting your break short? I need to run over to the salon. You can take a long lunch.”
“Sure.” Gretchen shot googly eyes my direction, and I had to hide my chuckle.
“Hey, did TJ ask you to prom yet?” asked Ellie.
“No.” Gretchen picked at the seam of her shorts. “It’s in less than a week. I don’t think it’s going to happen. Guess I got a dress for nothing.”
“Is he a good guy?” I asked.
“The best.” Gretchen managed to both glow and look miserable at the same time.
“Well, if he’s worth pining over, maybe he’s worth the risk of letting him know how you feel.” I shrugged. “Just something to think about.”
Gretchen’s face brightened.
“I haven’t looked at it that way before.”
As Ellie and I crossed the courtyard, she nudged my shoulder.
“Thanks for that,” she said.
“Thanks for what?”
“For what you said to Gretchen. I’ve been telling her the same thing over and over, but it’s like it’s coming from a big sister when I say it. She won’t listen. I think that outside male perspective is just what she needed to hopefully light a fire under her butt and finally tell him how she feels.”
“Ahh.” I followed Ellie into the salon and stepped back to admire the view as she reached up on her tippy-toes to pluck a fluffy, clean towel off the top of the neatly folded stack above the washbasin. I put Lulu down on the ground to explore, and she promptly curled up in a bed in the corner of the room next to Bentley.
I brushed my hand against the sliver of bare skin that peeked from the spot where Ellie’s tank top had hiked up. Again, I was struck by how soft she was. But that softness belied something deeper—a rock-solid determination—that I found equally, if not more, attractive.
“I think I should follow my own advice,” I said, moving my hand around to her stomach and circling my other arm around her waist. I planted a row of tiny kisses down her neck. “And tell you that I like you.”
