At Last (16 page)

Well she could join his damn club. He’d come here to Lucky Harbor to get away from everyone,
not
to get too close for comfort ever again.

Something else he’d failed at.

“Remember,” she’d said back in his bed, bare-ass naked, tousled, and gorgeous. “That was just sex.”

He’d nearly asked if she’d been reminding him—or her. But she’d had an emphatic look on her face, making it clear that
she
was in no danger of wanting more.

The drive to her car had been made in silence. Hard to tell if it’d been good or bad silence since his woman-radar had been broken ever since Shelly had packed her shit and walked right out of his life.

Actually, she’d run.

He shook his head but it was no good. His brain was still scrambled. Amy had scrambled it good with the best blow job he’d ever had. Then she’d ridden him like a bronco, detonating any brain capacity he might have managed to retain. She’d taken him her way, all the way, clearly not liking being vulnerable, just as clearly needing to be in charge.

Which had been new and… interesting.

It sure as hell would be hard to argue that he hadn’t had a great time. It’d been the kind of sex that every guy dreamed about, down and dirty, mindless.

No strings attached.

And isn’t that exactly what he’d wanted from her?

So much chocolate, so little time.

T
he next day, Amy worked at the diner. It was a slow, uneventful shift, made even slower due to a daylong downpour. The pier was empty as the rain beat down on the entire Washington coast, and the diner remained empty, too. This left Amy with way too much time to think.

Not a good thing when she kept flashing to the memory of Matt in bed moving over her, his voice a sexy, erotic whisper in her ear, their bodies slick with sweat, their limbs entangled. Every time she replayed it, she felt a tingle in spots that had no business tingling while she was serving customers.

It’d been so long since she’d been with someone. That’s what she told herself. Years long, in fact, since an ugly night in Miami years ago now, when she’d landed into yet another rough situation that she almost hadn’t gotten out of. Just another case of a guy wanting more than she wanted to give. She’d forgone sex completely after that.

But it had been different with Matt, so different than anything she’d ever shared before. Sex with him had meant intimacy, and she hadn’t been prepared.

Not even close.

To take her mind off Matt, she used her break to hole herself up in the tiny back office of the diner and pull out her cell phone. She wanted to plan the last leg of her grandma’s journey, but she was at a bit of a loss.

Call me again sometime, and you can ask me another question. I’ll answer a question with each call. How’s that sound?

Her mom’s words were echoing in her head. They’d had such a tempestuous relationship, always, from the day Amy had gone to live with her at age twelve, to the day Amy had walked away at age sixteen. But hindsight was twenty-twenty, and Amy could admit that she wasn’t blameless, that she’d had a big hand in how things went down. Facts were facts, and Amy had been a liar. A petty thief. A girl who’d wielded her burgeoning sexuality like a magic wand.

A nightmare.

And she’d walked away without looking back, without even considering how her mom might feel. Not caring…

Amy let out a shaky breath and hit her mom’s number. The phone was answered quickly, with a breathless, “Amy?”

“Yeah, Mom. It’s me.”

There was a silence, and Amy grimaced, feeling unwanted and stupid. And God how she really
hated
feeling stupid. She shouldn’t have done this; she shouldn’t have—

“I’m glad you called.”

Amy sucked in another breath. “You are?”

“You surprised me last time. I didn’t get a chance to ask you if you’re okay.”

Amy’s chest physically hurt. She didn’t do this, this emotional stuff. And yet it seemed like lately that was all she was doing. “I’m okay. You?”

“Good. I’m… single again. I just wanted you to know that.”

Probably the closest thing to an apology she was going to get.

“You still in Lucky Harbor?” her mom asked. “Do you have a place? An address?”

“Yeah.” Amy cleared her throat and gave her the apartment address. “You said I could ask you a question.”

“Yes.”

Amy drew a deep breath. “Do you know where Grandma Rose ended her journey exactly?”

“I’m sorry,” her mom said with real regret. “I don’t. All she ever told me was that in the end, she went full circle.”

Full circle. Same thing the journal had said. Disappointment clogged Amy’s throat, thick and unswallowable. “Oh. Okay, well, thanks. I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Will you call again?”

Amy closed her eyes. It’d been a long time since she’d ached for someone’s approval. A damn long time. Since her Grandma Rose’s death probably. Amy had told herself a million times that she’d outgrown needing acceptance. Would she call again? Honestly, in that moment, she had no idea. “I have your number,” she said carefully.

“Okay.”

“And Mom?”

“Yes?”

“You have my number now, too.”

At the end of her shift, Amy gathered the trash and left out the back door. She dropped it in the Dumpster on her way to her car and nearly tripped over Riley in the alley. “Hey,” Amy said, surprised. “What are you doing?”

But the answer was clear. It’d been pouring steadily, relentlessly, all afternoon, and Riley had been rained out of wherever she’d been staying in the woods. She was wet through and through, huddled up against the wall on the stoop. “You okay?” Amy asked.

Looking miserable, Riley nodded.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Riley didn’t ask where, or even bother to argue, which told Amy exactly how wet and cold the teen was. Once they were inside Amy’s piece-of-shit car, Riley sidled up against the heating vents, rubbing her arms over the long-sleeved tee that Amy had given her. “You know, if you’d stayed at my place, you’d be warm and dry right now.”

“Didn’t know how long I could stay.”

Amy’s heart squeezed. “How about until something better comes along?”

Riley was huddled into herself, shivering, and didn’t answer. Amy understood that, too. When Amy had been that age, nothing better
ever
came along. Amy pulled out of the diner parking lot and drove home. They climbed the stairs in silence, and inside she nudged Riley toward the bathroom for a hot shower. By the time the water turned off, Amy had pulled out another spare outfit from her own meager stash for Riley.

They ate grilled cheese sandwiches at the small kitchen table—Amy’s go-to comfort food. Riley inhaled every last crumb. “Thanks,” she said when they were done. She was looking a whole lot less like a drowned rat now. Her hair was drying in soft, natural curls, and with her face clean, Amy realized just how pretty she was. “Got a call about you the other day,” she said. “A hang-up, actually.” She told Riley about the phantom phone call she’d received at the diner.

Riley didn’t say a word but went pale.

Amy frowned at her. “What is it? You know who called?”

Riley shrugged.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Well there was a surprise. “You know you don’t have to live like this, on the run, right?” Amy asked. “You could get some help, make some roots. Stick around.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“So get a job.”

“I’m not good at anything.”

“Well, that’s not true. For instance,” Amy said, “you’re a great conversationalist. And such a sweet, sunny, friendly nature, too.”

Riley had the good grace to grimace at the gentle teasing.

“Look,” Amy said, “you could bus tables at the diner. You won’t get rich or anything, but you could support yourself. There’s a lot of freedom in that, Riley.”

Riley remained quiet while staring at her empty plate.

“And as a bonus, you could eliminate the sitting in the rain bit entirely, fun as that probably was. And with
all your spare time, you could get good at whatever you want to be good at. You could go to school, or whatever you want.”

Riley looked at her. “What are you good at?”

“Drawing.”

“I suck at drawing.”

“So you’ll find something you don’t suck at,” Amy said. “Something for you. It’s all about choices and decisions.”

“I usually choose to make really bad decisions.”

Amy laughed softly in sympathy. “I hear you. I happened to major in bad decisions myself. But I’m working on it. Part of that comes from stopping the cycle, getting some good sleep and decent food in your system so you’re not reacting off the cuff. Stay here tonight.”

Riley shrugged.

“Yes or no.”

Riley looked out the window, where the rain was still pouring down. She sighed. “Yes.”

“Now see? There’s a good decision.”

The next day, Matt was hanging off the North Rim, forty feet above ground, holding onto the granite with only his fingers and toes.

Josh was at his right and a foot or so below him.

It was a race to the top, with the loser buying dinner. Josh had bought the past four meals in a row, which he’d bitched about like a little girl, claiming that the finishes had been far too close to call.

Bullshit. Matt had won fair and square, though granted he’d only done so by an inch or two. But a win was a win.

“Move your lady-like fingers,” Josh groused when
Matt reached out far to his right for a good finger-hold. “You’re in my way.”

Matt didn’t move. The sun was beating down on his back, and he felt sweat drip down the side of his jaw. “Hey, Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“Which lady-like finger am I holding up now?”

Josh took in Matt’s flipping him the bird and
tsk
ed. “Rude.”

“You want rude? I’m having everything on the menu at Eat Me tonight, on
your
dime.”

“Fuck you,” Josh said. “I’m not buying you everything on the menu.”

“Is that what you say to the ladies?”

“The
ladies
,” Josh said with a grunt as he pulled himself up another few feet, “can have anything they want.”

Matt eyeballed the ledge above him and tried to figure out the best way to get there. “Fine. If you don’t want to buy dinner, you’re going to have to beat me to the top.”

Apparently getting a second wind at the thought, Josh pulled himself up another few feet. This put him in the lead. Matt wasn’t too worried. There were still a few feet to go, and Josh was breathing hard. “You’re sucking some serious wind, Doc. You need to get in the ring before you go soft like… like a doctor.”

Josh snorted. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his large six-foot-four-inch frame, and they both knew it. People teased him that he was like a bull in a china shop, but the truth was, Dr. Josh Scott was so highly regarded as a doctor that he had to turn patients away.

And for all his big talk, Josh turned away the women, too.

“When’s the last time you even got any?” Matt asked.

Josh slid him a look behind his dark sunglasses. “You want to swap stories?”

“Do you even have a story to swap?”

Josh let out what might have been a sigh. “Been busy.”

“No one should be that busy, man.”

“My practice is swamped. And Anna’s been acting up. And Toby… he needs me at home.”

Josh had sole custody of his five-year-old son, Toby. He’d also taken in his younger sister after their parents died six years ago. Anna was twenty-one now and hell on wheels, literally, having ended up in a wheelchair from the same car accident that had killed their parents. She’d spent her teen years dedicated to making Josh insane, and she’d nearly succeeded, too. It’d be a lot for any guy to handle, but with Josh’s job, it’d been nearly impossible.