First Time in Forever (24 page)

He eased her away from him, and the look he gave her from under those thick, dark lashes sent a lick of fire burning across her skin.

She trembled with arousal. “I wish—”

“You wish?” His voice was husky and deep, and she lifted her hands to the front of his shirt and started undoing the buttons. Because she was shaking, she fumbled, but he didn’t help her, just stood and waited, holding himself still while she struggled to get him naked.

In the end she gave up and ripped at the last few, sending buttons bouncing across the floor.

She heard him laugh, and then he scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her across the room, through slivers of dark and moonlight, to his bedroom. She saw briefly that it had the same incredible view, the same canvas of sea and stars, and then he was lowering her onto the bed, the muscles of his shoulders bunched as he supported her weight.

Clumsy, she fumbled with his belt, but her fingers were useless, and instead she gave up, frustrated, and covered him with the flat of her hand. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh and finished what she’d started. She stroked her hands over his powerful shoulders, lingered on the rough texture of his scar and slid lower. She felt the roughness of his thigh brush against the softness of hers, and then he shifted, giving himself full access to her body.

She started to remove her underwear, but he stopped her, pressing her flat to the bed with a wicked smile.

“That’s my job.”

“But—”

“Be patient.” He kissed her throat, and then his mouth moved lower to the full swell of her breasts, now pushing hard against the supportive fabric of her bra. His fingers brushed against the thrusting tip, and liquid heat pooled deep in her pelvis. For a moment she wondered whether his patience and control signified a lack of desire, but then she saw the dangerous glitter in his eyes and knew he was balanced on the edge, just as she was.

And then he was kissing her again, and she felt him remove her bra, leaving her breasts full and exposed.

“With a body like yours it’s a sin to wear clothes— ever.”

Her hips shifted against the softness of his sheets, her body arched, and still he explored, tasted, teased until she was sobbing his name, her fingers digging hard into the powerful muscles of his shoulders.

“Ryan—”

“Not yet.” But his hand finally moved between her thighs, lingered there, stroked through the sheer fabric of her panties and then slid inside, parting delicate folds until she was gasping. When she didn’t think she could stand it any longer, he stripped off the last of her underwear, and his fingers explored her with slow, skillful strokes and then slid deep, touching her in a way that was new to her until sensation built with suffocating intensity. She felt the first flutters of her body, but instead of finishing what he’d started, he moved down her body, kissing her stomach and lower until he was settled between her thighs.

Desperation gave way to acute shyness. This was something she’d never done with Neil, and she tried to wriggle away, but Ryan held her firmly, urging her to relax, to just breathe, to trust him, and then she felt the silky stroke of his tongue and the warmth of his breath against exposed, slippery flesh. He held her there, trapped and helpless, while he explored and exposed all of her body’s secrets, until she could no longer keep still. Finally, when she was sobbing and desperate, she felt him pause and reach for something from the nightstand and then he shifted over her, hard and heavy.

“Look at me.” His soft command penetrated her clouded brain, and she opened her eyes, met the burning intensity of his and then moaned as she felt him enter her with a series of slow, deliberate thrusts. She felt her body yield to the invasion of his, felt her muscles ripple against the swollen thickness and moaned his name.

“Am I hurting you?”

She was drowning in pleasure. “No! I just— I need—”

“I know what you need.” His voice thickened, he lowered his mouth to hers and rocked into her, deeper, harder, until each stroke, each driving relentless thrust propelled her closer to ecstasy.

Inhibition fled. Her only fear was that he might stop, that he might once again delay the pleasure. But not this time. Instead, he shifted the angle so that the combination of masculine thrust and delicious friction finally opened the gate to that elusive peak.

Pleasure rushed at her like a wave, slamming into her, the intensity of her climax catching her by surprise. She heard him groan her name, and then he was kissing her, stealing every sob, every cry with his mouth as the ripples of her body tipped him into his own shuddering release.

Afterward she lay, eyes closed, shaken by the depth of her own feelings. He gathered her close, soothing her with gentle hands and soft words, and then she was dimly aware of him leaving the bed. In the distance she heard the sound of water coming from the bathroom, and then he returned to the bedroom, scooped her boneless, pliant body easily into his arms and carried her through to the steamy, scented heaven.

“I never take baths, just showers.” She slid into the water with a groan. “I might drown. I need a life jacket.”

“You’re not going to drown.”

She heard the smile in his voice and opened her eyes. Confronted by the hard planes of his body, her gaze lingered on the dip and swell of muscle, the strength of those shoulders, the board-flat abdomen and the hair-roughened length of his thighs.

Catching her looking at him, he raised one eyebrow questioningly, as unselfconscious as she was anxious and unsure.

“You cannot possibly be shy after what we just did.” His voice was deep pitched, roughened by desire, and she discovered that far from being sated, it was as if her body had woken from a deep sleep.

“Maybe. You could turn the lights off if you like.”

“Honey, your body is so perfect anything less than a spotlight is a waste.” He slid into the water next to her, and she silenced the voice that questioned why he’d installed a tub big enough for two.

Her hair hung damp and curling in the steam, the ends heavy and wet as they clung to her neck. He pushed it aside and brought his mouth down on hers.

“You’re beautiful.”

She straddled him, her skin sliding against his, the warmth of the water mingling with the heat of his skin. She pressed her mouth to the rough texture of his jaw, felt the rhythm of his breathing change as her hands moved down his body.

By the time morning came they’d done everything except sleep.

They lay, wrapped up in each other, watching dawn break over an ocean as smooth and still as glass.

“I’ve never had a date like this one.” Her voice broke the sleepy silence, and she felt him stir and tighten his grip.

“It’s good to try new things.” His voice was husky, and he shifted her under him and looked down at her through lowered lids. “Still think there’s something wrong with you?”

“No.” She slid her arms around his neck. “You obviously have special powers.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, smiling against her lips. “Sweetheart, I haven’t even started. Any time you want another display of my special powers, let me know.”

She felt the weight of him on her, dominating and unbelievably arousing. “It’s dawn. I’m picking up Lizzy in three hours, and the thing about having children is that there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for sleeping in the day.”

“True. Sleepless nights suck. Unless the reason for it is sex.” He rolled on to his back, but he kept hold of her, locking her body against his. “I want to know more about you. Tell me something. Anything. Did you like school?”

“Mostly, yes. I liked the learning and the routine. There was a consistency that wasn’t ever present at home. Once I walked through those gates, I knew what was going to happen. The people behaved in a predictable way. I was never going to walk in and find them drunk or naked with a guy I’d never met before.”

“I’ve heard a lot of reasons for enjoying school but never that one.”

“Was there a teacher that stood out for you? For me it was Mrs. White. We used to wonder if she’d had her hair dyed to match her name, but she was the best math teacher. I was good at numbers. There was a beauty to it, a logic, that wasn’t present in anything else in my life. I had a gift, I think, and she saw it. She took me under her wing. I don’t know if she guessed what was happening at home, or whether she was just one of those people who are really good at bringing out the best in every child. Either way, she helped me. I was always the last kid in the building.”

“You didn’t want to go home.”

“To begin with that was the reason, but after a few years it was because I didn’t want to leave. School was a place full of possibilities. Mrs. White made me believe education was the key to another world. I wanted that key so badly. For the first time ever, the future looked exciting. I made it into college because of her. Every night when I left she gave me a new book to read, and every morning I gave it back and exchanged it for a different one.”

“You read a book a night?”

“I read from the moment I arrived home until I fell asleep. If the book was good, I didn’t sleep much. Sometimes I’d talk about the books with my stepfather, but mostly I just lived in my own world, and he respected that.”

“And your mom?”

“She didn’t care what I was doing.” She ran her hand over his shoulder, feeling the uneven texture of his skin under her fingers. “Does it hurt? And don’t lie to me.”

“It’s worse when the weather is cold and occasionally when I use it without thinking. But I don’t mind.” He hesitated. “At the beginning when I was going through the endless surgery and rehabilitation and taking the pain and frustration out on my family, I kept thinking of Finn. Every time I was tempted to feel sorry for myself, I thought about him. And the pain reminds me to live in the moment.”

“I wish I was more like that. I spend half my life—no, more than half my life—” she corrected herself “—worrying about stuff that hasn’t happened yet.”

“You’re not alone. Most of us go through life thinking about tomorrow, and we miss today. That was one of the things that made Finn such a great companion on our trips into dangerous territory. He noticed the small things that other people missed. It was also what made him a great photographer.”

“You don’t talk about him much. You don’t talk about any of it much.”

His fingers moved slowly up and down her arm. “The past is useful if it teaches you something about how you should be living in the present. Other than that, it’s just the past.”

Emily thought about her sister. “I think I’ve been living my whole life governed by the past. I didn’t think about it and didn’t talk about it, but it was there in everything I did. Skylar said that to me once and she was right. If it hadn’t been for Lizzy, I probably would have stayed that way forever.”

“And now?”

“Children have a way of making you live in the present. She doesn’t see further than the next meal or the next activity.” But she knew it wasn’t just Lizzy who was responsible for the change in her. It was Ryan.

He turned his head to hers, the gleam in his eyes telling her he knew what she was thinking. “If you need a suggestion for what the next activity could be, just ask.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

S
HE
LEFT
BEFORE
Ryan woke, tiptoeing out of his apartment as sunlight shimmered through the wall of glass.

The trail of clothes strewn around the room told the story of the night before, and she gathered them up, dressed swiftly and quietly closed the door behind her.

As she walked down the steps that led from his apartment, she wished she’d thought to bring something else to wear.

She was acutely conscious, not only of the dress that announced to the entire island where she’d spent the night, but of the small things. The slight whisker burns on the sensitive skin of her neck and the fact that her body ached in unusual places. And then there were the other things. Emotions she didn’t recognize. Feelings that were unfamiliar.

It was as if she’d gone to sleep as one person and woken as another.

She arrived to pick up Lizzy and was grateful that Lisa said nothing about the fact Emily was overdressed. Instead, she supplied a strong cup of coffee and proceeded to make small talk about her plans for the makeover of Summer Scoop.

On the drive home Lizzy talked nonstop about her sleepover, an evening apparently bursting with pizza and popcorn.

Emily parked outside the cottage and stared at Shell Bay.

Had Ryan woken up?

Maybe she should have left a note, but what would she have said?

Thanks for the best sex of my life.

“Can we dig in the sand?” Lizzy sounded hopeful, and Emily turned to look at her, wondering why everything felt different.

“Yes. Let’s do it. Right now.” Before this new version of herself vanished. Before she went back to being the person she’d been the day before.

They both changed into swimming things and pulled on shorts and T-shirts. Then Emily gathered up a blanket along with the bucket and spade and walked along the short sandy path that led directly to the beach.

Most of the tourists chose to stay on the beaches close to the harbor, and there was only one other family on Shell Bay.

Emily put the blanket down, and Lizzy stripped down to her swimsuit and started digging. “Can we build a boat?”

Emily would have preferred something a little less challenging for her first sand sculpture, but she gamely set her mind to scooping out the hull of a boat, using her hands to fashion seats and a prow while Lizzy filled and refilled the bucket.

They dug together for half an hour, and then Emily straightened and stripped off her shorts and tee. She dug her hand into her bag and surreptitiously checked her phone, but there were no messages.

Disappointment hovered like a cloud over her happiness.

Lizzy glanced up at her. “Skylar says red is your color.”

“Does she? And what’s your color? Pink?”

Lizzy shook her head and patted down the sand. “Turquoise. Like the sea.”

Close by, the other family was playing a ball game, and when the ball came flying in their direction, Emily caught it and threw it back.

She hadn’t intended to walk to the water’s edge, but somehow that was where she ended up, and she stood with her toes curling into the damp sand, feeling the lick of the tide on her ankles. Ahead of her lay the vastness of the ocean, an infinity of blue merging with the summer sky on a horizon so straight it could have been drawn by a child with a ruler.

The expanse of water made her catch her breath, and she turned her head, needing to see land, and there right behind her was Castaway Cottage, looking over the beach like a benevolent friend. It was impossible to believe anything bad could happen within sight of the cottage and easy to see why Kathleen had bought it all those years ago. It was the perfect Maine beach house, a retreat that most people could only dream of owning.

Lizzy dropped the bucket and ran to her side. “Are you going in the sea?”

“Yes.” Up until that point, she hadn’t realized that had always been her intention. “I am.”

“Can I come? I haven’t swum in the sea yet, but Rachel said I was ready.”

She wanted to refuse. She still wasn’t sure she was ready to do it herself, let alone take someone else with her.

On the other hand, if this was a test, then she might as well make it the ultimate test.

“I want you to use your float.”

Lizzy ran off and returned moments later carrying it.

Maybe she should have waited for Ryan. He would have come with her, she knew, but she also knew this was something she had to do by herself. It was her fear to conquer, and no one could do that for her. It felt as if she’d climbed almost to the top of Everest and was only a few steps from the summit. She didn’t have to do this, but she knew she would never feel whole until she did.

She told herself that she knew this beach, that she’d watched the ebb and flow of the tide enough times to know how the beach shelved. Here, in the perfect curve of Shell Cove, there were no dangerous currents, no riptides. The safety of the swimming was one of the many reasons Brittany was constantly being bothered by people wanting to buy the land. There was surely no more perfect spot in the whole of Maine.

She took a single step forward, and Lizzy took her hand, dancing over the small waves without fear.

“It’s freezing!” She squealed and laughed, while Emily watched, entertained and a little envious.

Had she ever been that carefree?

Had there ever been a time when she enjoyed the moment without worrying that something bad was about to happen?
Had she ever lived without protecting herself?

“Aunt Emily—” Lizzy tugged her hand impatiently “—come
on
!”

And she realized that living in the moment was a choice, and she stepped forward and kept walking until the water was above her knees.

Another family joined them in the water, the children squealing as the father swung them high into the air.

Reassured by their presence, Emily scooped Lizzy into her arms and held her out of reach of the waves.

The water was midthigh, and she knew she didn’t need to go any deeper. This was enough for now. The ocean stretched ahead of her, calm today, sleeping in the warm afternoon sunshine. The surface sparkled, inviting, and Emily knew that it had to be now. It was the perfect time.

“Are you ready?” Steeling herself, she lowered Lizzy to the water and watched her kick out, confident as she started to swim. “Swim parallel to the shore. Stay in line with the beach. That’s it.”

Without allowing herself to think too much, Emily slid forward into the water, gasping as the coldness closed over her shoulders. Immediately she had the urge to stand up, to feel the reassuring pressure of the sand beneath her feet, but she fought the panic and forced herself to breathe and move her arms and legs in the same rhythmic strokes she’d used in the pool. She felt the gentle lift and fall of the water as she swam, felt the sea lick at the edges of her hair and her face, playful, not threatening.

Panic was replaced by calm and then by pleasure and no small degree of pride. She was swimming, really swimming. She’d learned a new skill. The sea was in control, she knew that. But if she was careful, they could coexist.

Next to her Lizzy splashed and swam, chin raised like a dog out of the water, and Emily murmured words of encouragement, telling her to keep going, keep kicking, and she wasn’t sure if she was saying the words to herself or the child.

They swam halfway along the cove before Lizzy declared that her arms were too tired, and Emily stood up, feeling the reassuring pressure of the sand beneath her feet. The water was still at midthigh but too deep for Lizzy, and she scooped her up and held her tightly, safely out of reach of the water.

“You swam so well.”

She felt Lizzy’s arms creep around her neck and the softness of her curls brush against her chin. She breathed in the smell of salt and sea and closed her eyes, rocked by the tight squeeze of those skinny arms and the priceless gift of trust. Something inside her that she’d thought had died sprang to life and bloomed. She wasn’t sure how it happened or even why, but at some point holding turned to hugging. The deep chill that had become part of her slowly thawed as they stood, tangled together, intertwined and close.

“I like living here.” Lizzy’s voice was soft, and Emily felt her eyes sting.

“I like living here, too.”

“Can we have a puppy?”

Eyes stinging, Emily started to laugh. “Let’s take this a step at a time, shall we?”

“A puppy would be the best thing ever. I love Cocoa, but she’s Agnes’s best friend, so we can’t have her.”

“No, we can’t.” A puppy. Realizing she was actually considering it, Emily shook her head in disbelief. “Let’s go indoors and wash off all this sand.” Holding Lizzy on her hip, she waded back to shore. “Oh, wait, let’s finish our sand yacht.”

By the time they’d finished their impressive structure, the sun was dipping down below the horizon and clouds were gathering.

They ran indoors trailing sand and laughter into the house, showered, changed and then picked blueberries from the bushes in the garden and made a pie.

“Push your hands into the flour—” Emily stood Lizzy on a chair, and together they weighed and stirred and mixed while outside the sky darkened and thunder rumbled.

“Will we live here forever?” Lizzy had somehow managed to cover every available surface and herself with flour.

Emily poured the blueberries into the pie dish. “Castaway Cottage isn’t ours. It belongs to Brittany, my friend.”

“If she comes home, where will we live?”

Emily paused, understanding the child’s need for security in a world that had crumbled around her. “We’d stay here until we found somewhere perfect for us.” She sent mental thanks to her friend and the pact they’d made all those years before.

“Will we stay on Puffin Island?”

It was something she hadn’t considered until the past few days. “That’s something we’ll have to talk about.”

“I want to live here. I don’t want to leave Cocoa. Or the puffins. I like swimming. Rachel says if I’m still here when school starts after the summer, she’d be my teacher.”

Emily leaned across and wiped the flour from her mouth. “You’d have to call her Miss Cooper.”

Lizzy grinned. “I’d be with Summer and Harry.”

“That sounds like fun. Are you done making pastry? I’ll finish off and then we can clean up and read a book while our pie is cooking.”

She heard the front door open and then the sound of paws on the floor as Cocoa sprinted into the kitchen.

“Cocoa!” Abandoning her duties as pastry maker, Lizzy jumped off the chair and hugged the dog, spreading flour and goodwill in equal measure.

Emily’s heart lifted as Ryan walked into the room, wiping droplets of rain from his face. “She’s learned
sit
, but
stay
is still giving us a problem.”

His gaze connected with hers briefly, and the look he gave her sent heat rushing to her cheeks.

“Would you like to stay for dinner? It’s Lizzy’s favorite gourmet treat. Mac and cheese followed by blueberry pie.”

“That sounds like the best invitation I’ve had in a long time.” He hunkered down next to Lizzy. “I saw a boat on the beach. A boat that is even better than mine. No idea how something that spectacular could have just shown up on the sand like that. Any ideas?”

Lizzy was giggling, her hands full of Cocoa. “Emily and I made it. We copied yours.”

“It’s a better-looking boat than mine. Any time you want to build me a proper boat, go right ahead.” He rose to his feet. “So, you played in the sand.”

“And the sea. I swam.”

His eyebrows rose. “With Rachel?”

“With Emily.”

“Emily swam in the sea?” There was a strange note to his voice, and Emily slid the pie into the oven.

“I remembered everything you taught me.”

“You should have told me you wanted to do that. I would have come with you.”

“It wasn’t something I planned. And I needed to do it by myself.”

He nodded slowly. “And how did it feel?”

She thought about the sensation of the water on her limbs, the terror of feeling the waves tug at her and the satisfaction of having confronted something that frightened her so badly. “It felt good. I don’t think I’ll be swimming to the mainland anytime soon, but it was a start.”

Lizzy scrambled to her feet. “Ryan, will you read a story?”

“Sure.” He lifted her into his arms. “What’s it to be?
Green Eggs and Ham
?”

Knowing how badly Lizzy needed to be wrapped in that security blanket right now, Emily sent him a grateful look. “I’ll fetch the book.”

“Not that one.” Lizzy’s arms were around his neck. “I want the one in your head. The one you told me that time Emily was sick, about Abbie, the lighthouse keeper’s daughter who kept the lights burning when her father couldn’t get back to the island.”

Ryan sat down at the table with Lizzy on his lap and started telling the story while Emily made sauce for the mac and cheese. Thunder boomed outside the cottage, and Lizzy flinched against Ryan, who carried on telling the story in his calm, steady voice.

“It was one of the worse storms ever—”

“Worse than this one?”

“Much worse than this one...”

Lizzy kept interrupting, asking questions. Did Ryan think Abbie had been afraid? Why hadn’t she used a boat to escape? Could the waves have covered the lighthouse?

He answered everything with the same quiet patience, returning each time to the story until another clap of thunder came from overhead. This one was so loud even Emily flinched, and Lizzy hid her face in Ryan’s chest and clutched his shirt.

“I don’t like storms.”

“Plenty of people feel the same way.” His hand smoothed her spine, gentle and reassuring. “Rachel was the same, but don’t tell her I told you.”

“But she’s big and brave.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t like storms. Everyone is afraid of something.”

He’d used the same calm tone with her, Emily remembered. On the day of her meltdown, it had been his voice as much as his presence that had calmed her. When Ryan spoke, it was impossible to believe anything bad could happen, that the world could be anything other than a safe place.