Jilted: Promise Harbor, Book 1 (19 page)

“Want you to come,” she whispered, rubbing her face against his chest. He lifted his head and dragged his eyes open to watch her watching herself stroke him right to paradise. His orgasm roared through him, so fast and hot his legs damn near buckled, and he flattened his hands against the wall of the shower behind him as he finished, coming all over her hand, the water of the shower washing it away. She turned her face up to him, her lips parted, eyes bright with delight.

“Jesus,” he gasped.

She smiled a sweet, lazy smile and leaned into him. “My turn.”

“Oh baby.” He shook his head. “Too bad I can’t lift my arms.”

She turned her face into his neck and pressed her lips there. “Take your time.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that rose from his chest, and he reached for her, miraculously able to command his muscles after all. She reached for the bottle of body wash without saying a word. He held out a hand for more, then rubbed it over the little patch of curls, sudsing up. She gave a little moan of appreciation and his fingers dipped lower, into her pouting folds, so soft, so incredibly perfect. He turned her in his arms so her back was pressed to his chest, wrapped one arm around her and found her breast while the other slid down between her legs. She leaned back into him as he played and stroked and rubbed, finding the sensitive nub and concentrating there until she went up on her toes, her back arched and she made sexy little noises in her throat.

He bent his head and found her mouth to kiss her, sucked on her little tongue, swallowed those whimpers of pleasure and enfolded her in both arms to hug her tight.

“Done,” he muttered. “I am so done. Need sleep.”

“Mmmm. Me too.”

They dried each other off with slow, almost drowsy moves. He rubbed her hair in a towel held in both hands, gently, then picked up the hairbrush sitting on the counter and carefully worked it through the damp tangles. Facing the steamy mirror, their eyes met in their reflection, hers dreamy and soft, and for a moment they both went still, gazing at each other. He smiled then, and her mouth curved in response as he pulled the brush one last time through the strands, then tossed it back on the counter.

“Bed,” he said.

In the dark they found their way back to the bed and climbed in. The storm had passed over now, with only faint flickers of lightning and distant growls of thunder.

“Now just leave me alone for a while,” he said to her, his voice thick. “Geez, woman.”

She gave a snort of laughter as she snuggled in against him, fitting her body to his perfectly, arms and legs twined, her softness molding to his hardness. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Chapter Thirteen

They awoke early enough for more sex, but when they remembered the lack of a condom, Josh said, “Tonight. Come to my place tonight. I have lots of condoms there.” He grinned. “Cases of them.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened.

“No. But I’ll get some.”

She laughed.

They went for breakfast, packed up and checked out, and Devon gave a last, wistful look at the charming suite as they left. The weather had turned much cooler, the sky still overcast and dull, the ocean gray and choppy beneath the ferry as they traveled back to the mainland. When they’d disembarked, she found her car. Josh lifted her suitcase into the trunk and slammed the lid down.

She wasn’t sure why her insides felt all twisty.

“So you’ll come to my place later?” he said.

“I don’t know where you live.”

“Hell.” He shook his head. “Well, it’s not hard to find. I bought the Cabot place on the edge of town.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yeah. My plan is to fix it up, but I haven’t done much yet. It’s half-empty but…” He shrugged. “It’s mine.”

She nodded. “Okay. I know where that is. I’ll come after dinner, I guess. I’ll go find Dad.” Her stomach tightened. “He’ll be surprised to see me back so soon.”

He gazed down at her and nodded too, then bent and brushed his mouth over hers. “Okay. See you later.”

As she turned he gave her butt a little pat, and she gave him a look over her shoulder that was meant to be censuring, but really, she liked it. That little pat reassured her.

She drove to Dad’s place on Cranberry Lane. She’d have to see if Susan was home to get the key again if Dad wasn’t there. She didn’t expect he would be. More likely he was out on one of the boats with some tourists.

Sure enough, the door was locked, so she headed next door and rang Susan’s doorbell. She answered it with wide eyes and then a smile. “Devon! You’re back.”

Devon returned Susan’s smile. “I’m back.”

“Um…didn’t you go back to Boston?”

“No. Actually, I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Susan blinked.

“Can I get the key to Dad’s house again? He’s not home.”

“Of course. Come in.” She held the door for Devon, who stepped inside. She studied Susan’s pretty yellow and white kitchen, a vase of daisies sitting in the middle of the round, white kitchen table. Susan retrieved the key from a small rack on one wall. “Your dad’s at work.”

“I figured. I might go down there and see what’s happening.” Whoa, where did that come from? She’d worked her high school years at the business and wasn’t all that fond of fishing anymore.

“He’d love to see you,” Susan said.

Devon gave her a long look.

Susan frowned. “What?”

“He won’t love to see me,” Devon said quietly. “Let’s be real here.”

Susan tipped her head to one side, peering at Devon through her glasses. “Why would you say that? He was so disappointed when you disappeared last weekend.”

Devon’s mouth fell open a little. “I doubt that.”

“Devon. Yes, he was. I know he doesn’t show much of what he’s feeling, but I could see how disappointed he was when he read your note. And I think he was a little worried, too. There were all these rumors about Allie Ralston being kidnapped from her own wedding, and then Greta Brewster disappeared too, and…so did you. I think it scared him a little.”

“He could’ve phoned me to see if I was okay,” Devon muttered, a little freaked out by what Susan was saying.

“Yes. He could’ve. He should’ve. I told him to. But he just shrugged and pretended everything was fine.”

Pretended everything was fine.
Yeah, he was good at that.

“Well.” She wasn’t sure what to say. Susan was probably imagining things. “Thanks for the key.”

“No problem at all.”

With wave and a smile, Devon followed the sidewalk again out front, around the picket fence and through the gate of her dad’s house. Once again she found herself inside with her suitcase alone. She sighed. Maybe she should have gone to stay with Josh.

But whoa. That was terrifying. And crazy.

Unsure how long she was really going to stay, she didn’t unpack, just opened her suitcase and shook out a few things to get some wrinkles out of them. Then she grabbed the house key and her purse and went with that crazy idea to drive down to the wharf and see if Dad was around.

Even though the weather had changed from the hot, sunny skies they’d had all week, it was a Sunday in June, which meant Promise Harbor was hopping with day-trippers, weekenders and seasonal visitors. The population nearly doubled in the summer.

It was hard to find a parking spot near the wharf, and she ended up walking a few blocks, which was no hardship since it wasn’t raining anymore. Clouds still hung low in the sky, a hint of moisture in the air, as usual carrying the briny scent of the Atlantic Ocean. The beach wasn’t exactly crowded since there was no sun, but a few people strolled along the water, some kids splashing in the shallows. She smiled at people on the wharf, walking, leaning on the wooden railing, sitting on benches, many eating ice cream or sipping coffee.

She bypassed the big main wharf for the smaller one that housed several businesses, Dad’s charter boats, the whale-watching charters, the place that rented Jet Skis and Windsurfers. The old planks creaked beneath her feet, and through the cracks she could see the ocean swirling. She’d spent so much time there as a teenager and couldn’t wait to get a “real job” working in a nice, clean office, but now it felt strangely comfortable being there in such familiar surroundings, the atmosphere relaxed and casual. So different from the intensity of the finance world in Boston, the rush and crush of living in a big city.

She opened the wooden door of the small building that housed Grant’s Charters, the painted picture of a sea captain fading and peeling a little. She stepped inside and closed the door. A teenage boy sat behind the counter, where a glass top covered assorted marine maps and photographs of impressive catches. He looked up with a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi. Is…Mr. Grant around?”

“Yeah, he’s in the office. I’ll get him.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just go back there. I’m his daughter. Devon Grant.”

“Oh, hey. Nice to meet you.”

She moved to the end of the counter and passed behind it, then paused at the open door to the small office. She took in the papers and books and maps and magazines strewn on a counter, two old wooden desks and a bookshelf. Her dad lifted his head from the computer he sat in front of at one of the desks. He stared at her. Blinked. His eyes flickered, and his mouth twitched. “Devon.”

“Hi, Dad.”

He slowly stood, a frown overtaking his face. “What are you doing here?”

Yeah, that was the greeting she wanted to hear. But a fair question, really. “I never went back to Boston. I, um, went to Greenbush Island for a week.”

His graying eyebrows still knitted together, he said, “I didn’t realize you had vacation time booked. Or that you were planning a trip to the island.”

“It wasn’t really a holiday.” She leaned on the door frame. “I…” She swallowed. “I have something to tell you.”

He waited.

“I lost my job.”

Once again, his features shifted, but his expression was hard to read. He said nothing for a moment. “What happened?”

She made a face. “Downsizing. I was one of the most junior staff.”

After another pause, he gave a nod. “I’m sorry, Devon. I know how much you loved your job.”

“Yeah.” She looked down as sadness once again swept over her at her loss. But it wasn’t as painful as it had been a week ago. “I really did.” But she lifted her chin and pasted on a smile and met his eyes. “But I’ll find something else. It’ll be okay.”

“Of course it will. You’re a bright girl.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. “Thanks. So. I went to the island because I’d…well, it’s a long story, but I thought maybe I had a lead on a job. But that didn’t work out. I had nothing to rush back to Boston for, so I took a little holiday. And decided to come back here for a while. I’m going to, um, help out with some financial stuff at Brewster Landscaping.”

Silence expanded around them as he stared at her. “Brewster Landscaping. How did that come about?”

“Well, that’s another long story.” She forced a bright smile. “At the wedding, I offered to go to the island to see if Allie had gone there. Because that’s where they were going on their honeymoon. I wanted to go there anyway, about that job.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And…” She cleared her throat. “Josh came with me.”

“Josh Brewster.”

“Yes.”

“And you stayed all week.”

She nodded.

“With Josh.”

She nodded again.

Dad sat there silently. She had no idea what was going on in his head. No idea.

“Are you two back together, then?”

“No. Well.” Cripes, what was she supposed to say to that?
We slept together last night. Actually there wasn’t much sleeping involved.
Yeah, not really comfortable talking to Dad about that. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’m going over to his place tonight.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asked.

No, I’m scared spitless!
But anger rose inside her too at her father’s disapproval. “It’s my life,” she said shortly. “He wants me to help arrange some financing for the landscaping business. They’re having some cash-flow problems and Josh is having a hard time figuring out what to do about it. I have some ideas.”

He nodded slowly. “I see.”

“So it’s okay if I stay with you again? I’m not sure for how long.”

“Don’t expect much in the way of fancy meals. And I’m not home much.”

His gruff tone gave no indication that he was happy to have her there, as Susan had said. But then, she hadn’t expected that. She looked at the computer on the desk where he’d been sitting. “What are you working on?”

He scowled. “Some monthly expenses. But the goddamn spreadsheet thing isn’t cooperating.”

“Spreadsheet thing?”

“Yeah. You know. Excel.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Yeah, I know. Actually I’m pretty good with Excel. Want me to look at it?”

He shrugged, but since that wasn’t a no, she took a seat at the worn, old desk, the powerful new PC looking out of place there. “So what’s the problem?” she murmured, her eyes moving over the columns and rows.