Meet Me in Barefoot Bay

by Roxanne St Claire

  “You can leave, Clay,” Lacey said.

  He stood speechless. What power did Marie Armstrong have over her? “Leave?”

  “Just go.”

  Marie wore a smug smile and tipped her head to the door. He opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, taking the few steps to the back door. Pulling it open, he waited for Lacey to change her mind, but she didn’t.

  Without turning, he stepped outside into the hallway. Behind him the door started to close with the hiss of a pneumatic hinge, slowly enough that he heard Lacey’s next words.

  “Mother, listen to me.”

  He slid a hand in the frame to keep the door ajar.

  “I don’t need to hear your excuses, Lacey. Everyone makes mistakes and he, well, he was a doozy.”

  “I’m not making excuses, Mother. I want to say something to you. One time and one time only.”

  Clay inched closer. He had to hear. Had to know.

  “Say it fast and then let’s go. I can’t stand the thought of Ashley with that Zoe woman.”

  He heard Lacey’s intake of breath, as though she were about to start a speech. Then silence.

  “What?” her mother demanded.

  “I don’t know why you have so much anger in you, Mother, or why you are so disappointed in me.”

  “I’m not—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Lacey insisted. “Because I forgive you.”

  Clay closed his eyes at the echo of his own words to his father. He knew exactly how liberating that was.

  “I don’t need your forgiveness. I don’t need—”

  “Anything or anyone. I know. But I do.” Lacey’s voice cracked, making Clay squeeze the door. “I need love and I need that man out there. I need him like I need my next breath.”

  “You’re confusing sex with need.”

  “I’m not confused about anything.” Her voice rose with conviction and clarity. “I love him and I want to spend every possible minute next to him.”

  Yes. Yes, Strawberry, yes.

  “Well, you do that,” her mother said. “And I’ll be there to pick up the pieces when he dumps you for the next girl who gives him what he needs.”

  “There won’t be a next girl.” Confidence oozed from every word. “I’m all he needs and all he wants and all he will ever have to have.”

  He braced for Marie’s cutting reply, but there was nothing but silence. And footsteps to the door, fast enough for him to realize she was running. To him.

  “Clay!” Lacey called, pushing the door so hard he had to jump back to keep from getting nailed. “Clay! Oh. You’re here.”

  “I’m here.”

  “You heard.”

  “Every word.”

  “And…”

  He reached for her, pride and love and something he couldn’t even name welling up inside of him.

  Completion. That was what it was. Like the final stroke on a drawing that was just waiting for completion. He could see the whole picture ahead and, man, it looked good.

  “And I think you are right about everything,” he said. “Especially the part about how you are all I need and all I want and all I ever have to have.”

  Lacey leaned into Clay. “You know what I want to do now, Clay?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Thank me properly?”

  “After that, I’d like to make some of your drawings come to life. And I don’t mean the floor plans.”

  He reached down to kiss her. “Told you, Strawberry. If I can see it clear enough to draw it, I can make it happen. Let’s make it happen… together.”

  “I like that.”

  He grinned. “I like you.”

  “I—”

  He placed one finger over her lips. “Let me say it first. I love you.”

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  “Why is everyone whispering?” Lacey approached Zoe and Jocelyn a few minutes after the formal groundbreaking ceremony had ended.

  They both shut up instantly.

  “Secrets,” Lacey said, shaking her head. “Why must we have any secrets? We’re best friends.”

  “No secrets,” Jocelyn said. “We’re just talking about what a lovely ceremony it was.”

  “Especially the part where you and Clay did the first big dig.” Zoe mimed scooping dirt. “Because nothing says romance like a shovel.”

  “Who said anything about romance?” Tessa joined them, her fingers wrapped around a small cluster of bright pink mimosa flowers that she’d insisted on planting months ago in honor of the island’s name.

  “Can’t say much else when Lacey and Clay are together,” Jocelyn said. “You two are the definition of bliss.”

  “Speaking of bliss, this afternoon kind of reminds me of a wedding.” Zoe slid her arm around Lacey to turn her toward the beach, but Lacey caught Jocelyn and Tessa’s sharp look of warning.

  “It’s okay, guys,” Lacey assured them. “When it happens, it happens. We’ll know when it’s the right time. We have a resort to build, you know.”

  Again they shared a look that could only be interpreted as—what? Pity? Understanding? Concern?

  “You guys, stop,” Lacey insisted. “Clay and I don’t need a piece of paper. We’ve never needed that, not even to build Casa Blanca together. It’s always been sealed with a kiss.”

  Which really should be enough when a person is this much in love, right?

  “Here, Lace,” Tessa said, handing her the flowers. “A gift for you to celebrate this glorious day of new beginnings.”

  She took the bouquet and smiled, surprised when tears stung her lids. She wasn’t disappointed that Clay hadn’t proposed yet, was she? No, these were tears of joy and anticipation. They had so much ahead.

  “And just look at those two,” Jocelyn said, indicating Clay and Lacey’s father deep in conversation at the water’s edge, silhouetted against the first golden streaks of a magnificent sunset.

  “They’re like father and son,” Lacey mused. They’d formed a strong bond almost instantly and, for the first time since he’d retired from dentistry, her father seemed truly happy. Even her mother…

  Well, she was coming around. She’d joined the party today, at least. And Ashley, now halfway through her first year of high school, had managed to forge much better friendships and an improved attitude. Right now she was talking excitedly to Clay’s sister, no doubt telling her all about the upcoming spring-break trip to the Caribbean to go snorkeling with her father.

  David had been true to his word: He’d invested heavily in Casa Blanca. No word on when he’d be back to visit, but Ashley seemed content with their regular texting and Facebook exchanges, and the promise of at least one adventurous vacation with him a year.

  “Hey, Lace.” Zoe gestured toward the water. “Your hotter half is waving you down to the beach.”

  As her father walked up the sand, Clay stayed in the shallow waves giving Lacey a two-fingered come-hither beckoning. “Like I could resist that. See ya,” she said, using the flowers to wave over her shoulder.

  “Shoes off,” he called, already barefoot himself.

  She kicked off her sandals and headed into the warm water, letting the froth bubble around her ankles. Clay reached out to her and she slipped into his arms, the warm water of Barefoot Bay tickling her toes just as his first sweet kiss landed on her mouth.

  “We did it, Strawberry.”

  “We sure did.” She leaned back, secure in his arms, giving in to the sheer bliss of being held by him. He bent over and kissed her neck, getting some crowd reaction.

  “We’re drawing attention, Clay.”

  “Get used to it. We’re going to draw a lot more.” He smiled at her, a sly, sneaking smile that crinkled his eyes and kind of crushed her chest. “You know, Lacey, your dad reminded me we’ve forgotten an awfully big step in this project.”

  “We have?” She frowned. “What is it?”

  “Our contract.”

  “A business contract?” She laughed at the
idea, mostly because the notion seemed ridiculous when they’d done this much without one. Or maybe she laughed because, for one crazy second, she thought he might mean another kind of contract.

  “I don’t think it’s smart to go much farther along without one, and your dad agrees.”

  “Of course. He wants to protect me.”

  He curled his arm around her shoulder as if protecting her was his job, pulling her into him so she had to put her arm around his waist as they turned to the sunset, their backs to the beach. “You have to admit a contract makes sense.”

  “If it’s important to you…” She let her voice trail off as her eyes drank in the peachy pool of sunlight over the horizon and the violet-tinged sky above it. Beautiful. But she’d rather look up at the man she loved. “I don’t think we need one.”

  “I do. This is a huge commitment, years of work, lots of decisions to make, people who will depend on us to stick together when times get tough, and, of course, there are always complicated legal issues to iron out in case of a dispute.”

  “I never want to have a dispute.” She put her head on his shoulder, trying to just drink up the peacefulness of the moment.

  “Just in case, I think it would be smart to have a formal, binding, stamped-by-the-mayor kind of contract that says this partnership is permanent.”

  She squinted up at him, blinking against the late afternoon sunshine that washed him in gold. “Let’s just seal it with a kiss, Clay, and agree to trust each other.”

  He stared at her. “A kiss?”

  “Is just a kiss.” She stood on her tiptoes to peck his cheek. “That’s what our song says.”

  He turned so she hit his mouth and suddenly it wasn’t a peck at all, but slower, longer, deeper, and warmer. “Unless it’s a kiss like that.”

  “I’ll say,” she agreed. “That was pretty binding.”

  “But not good enough.” He angled them both toward the sunset again, the sand squishing in between her toes. “I want legal.”

  “Okay. On Monday you call the lawyers.”

  “I don’t want to wait until Monday. We have everyone we need here right now.”

  “Here for…” Deep inside, in the part of her chest that always ached a little when she looked at him, something twisted. “Here for us to sign a contract?”

  “If that’s what you want to call it.” Very slowly, he eased her around, away from the sunset, toward the beach.

  Every single person there gathered in a tight group, facing them. Except for Zoe, Tessa, and Jocelyn, who stood off to the side in a row.

  “What’s going on, Clay?”

  “One more ceremony today,” he said.

  Then the crowd parted down the middle, as if choreographed, and Ashley stepped into the open area, more mimosa flowers in her hands. She looked at Lacey, smiled, and slowly began to walk toward the water, dropping the pink stems as she did.

  Tears blurred her vision and a lump formed in her throat. “Clay. Is this…”

  “This is it, Lacey.”

  She let out a little breath of air, suddenly strangled with happiness. “Now?”

  “No chance to make a single excuse why we can’t.”

  “As if I’d even dream of that.”

  Laughing, he stroked her windblown hair off her face, then held her cheeks. “That’s why I didn’t propose.”

  “Better do it fast.”

  He got down on one knee, earning a big cheer from the crowd.

  “Lacey Armstrong, this beach is where I found you and fell in love with you and built a life with you. So this is where I want to make you my wife, the best friend and forever lover I will cherish, honor, adore, and love for all the days and nights we have together. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes, Clay Walker. I will marry you right here and now. I love you, too.”

  Behind her, Zoe squealed just as Ashley reached them.

  “Congratulations, Mom. I love you.” She kissed Lacey and hugged Clay. “Welcome to the family, Clay.”

  She stepped to the side to join the girls, all three with tears that matched Lacey’s and smiles that rivaled the beauty of the sunset.

  Lacey’s parents came next, and, miracle of miracles, her mother was smiling. And Dad was bawling like a baby.

  Last was Mayor Lennox, carrying a single piece of paper.

  Their contract. Their future.

  “Please join hands,” the mayor said.

  Lacey looked down at her mimosa bouquet, then turned to her friends. Which one of them should get this? Should the bouquet go to Zoe, whose mischievous grin almost hid her long-ago heartache, or Tessa, with her nurturing spirit that couldn’t be fulfilled in the garden no matter how hard she tried? Or Jocelyn, who tried to control everything by turning her back on the past?

  She wished a lifetime of love for all three of her best friends, but only one could take the bouquet.

  “Just a minute,” Lacey whispered to Clay. “I need to give these to someone.”

  Turning, she hesitated, still trying to decide.

  “Just throw them,” he said. “Let the wind decide.”

  She tossed the bouquet toward the women. Tessa froze and Zoe reached out with a squeal, but the breeze caught the flowers and took them straight to Jocelyn. She snagged the stems right before they hit the sand, getting a huge cheer from the crowd as she held the flowers with tentative fingers.

  “You’re next,” Lacey mouthed, then sidled closer to Clay.

  As the mayor started the second official ceremony of the day, Lacey took a slow, deep inhalation of the salt air of Barefoot Bay. The tangy scent reminded her of the morning of the hurricane, when hope and anticipation and change had beckoned her.

  And then love found her.

  She joined hands with the man she loved and hung on for dear life. Because life, as it turned out, really was dear.

  Barefoot in the Rain

  For Louisa Edwards and Kristen Painter… My besties who hand me the umbrella (drink) every time it rains.

  Prologue

  August 1997

  “I know why they call this a comforter.” Jocelyn pulled the tattered cotton all the way up to her nose, taking a sniff right over the Los Angeles Dodgers logo.

  Will didn’t look up from stuffing socks into the corners of his suitcase. “Why’s that, Joss?”

  “Because…” She took a noisy, deep inhale. “It smells like Will Palmer.”

  Slowly, he lifted his head, a sweet smile pulling at his face, a lock of dark hair falling to his brow. Lucky hair. Jocelyn’s fingers itched to brush it back and linger in the silky strands.

  “Don’t tell me,” he said. “It stinks of sweat, grass, and a hint of reliability?”

  “No.” She sniffed again. “It smells like comfort.”

  He straightened, rounding the suitcase to take a few steps closer to the bed, leveling her with eyes the same color as the Dodger-blue blanket. “You’re welcome to take it to Gainesville. My mom bought me a whole new set of that stuff for the apartment.”

  “I’m sure it would be the envy of my roommates.” Girls she didn’t even know, except as names on a piece of paper sent to her by a resident adviser named Lacey Armstrong. Would Zoe Tamarin and Tessa Galloway be her friends? Would they make fun of her for bringing the next-door neighbor’s comforter to her dorm room next week?

  “Do you want it?” he asked, the question touchingly sincere.

  “No, I don’t need it,” she replied. “I need…” The word stuck. Why couldn’t she just say it, tell him, be honest with her best friend in the whole world who was leaving for college—a different college—tomorrow morning? “You.”

  He did a double take like he wasn’t sure he’d caught that one-syllable whisper. “That’s a very un-Jocelyn-Bloom-like admission.”

  “I’m practicing to be the new me.”

  “I hope you don’t change too much up there at UF. I like you just the way you are.”

  I like you. I like you.

  Lately, thos
e three words were being tossed around like his baseballs during practice. It was almost as if she and Will wanted to say more. But they couldn’t. That would change everything in the delicate tightrope of friendship and attraction they’d walked for all these years.

  “Anyway,” she said quickly, “you’re the one who’s going to change. Living off campus, traveling with the University of Miami baseball team, fending off those pro offers.”

  “Please, you sound like my dad now.”

  “I’m serious. No one will recognize the golden boy of Mimosa Key when he comes home at Thanksgiving.”

  “You’re the one with a full academic ride and so many scholarships you’re making money going to school, Miss Four-Point-Six Smartypants.”

  “You’re the one who’s going to be on a box of Wheaties someday, Mr. MVP of State Championships.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Shit, now you really sound like my dad.” Shaking his hair back, he came a little closer and propped on the side of the bed, the mattress shifting under his weight. “So what about Thanksgiving?”

  “What about it?”

  “You coming back home, Bloomerang?”

  Her heart did a little roll and dive at the nickname he’d given her years ago.

  Jocelyn Bloom-erang, he called her. Because you always come back to me, he’d say after she’d been MIA for a few days. But the truth was, she had no real reason to come back to this barrier island hugging the coast of Florida. Except him, and he was headed for bigger and better things.

  In answer to his question she just shrugged, not wanting to lie and really not wanting to ask a question of her own: Would he ever consider taking her with him on his journey to fame and fortune?

  “You’re not coming back, are you?” he asked.

  “I… might.” She locked her elbow and let her head fall on her shoulder, hiding behind the hair falling over her face. “You know how things are.”

  He stroked her cheek and smoothed that fallen hair over her shoulder. “I know how things are.”