Summer at the Shore (Seashell Bay Book 2) (27 page)

He laughed. “Then I’d better get you straight home before you do something you might regret.”

“Never,” she said, smiling up at him.

As Morgan rushed around to the driver’s side of her truck, the Casco Bay ferry tooted its horn to signal its imminent departure. It seemed to be giving her a salute, saying it had done its job in bringing Ryan back to her.

Back home to Seashell Bay, where they belonged.

Mid-October

M
organ was glad that Ryan was taking it slow as he steered the golf cart down the freshly graveled road. A hundred feet in front of them, a pickup truck spewed a thick cloud of dust that threatened to engulf them if they didn’t keep it to a crawl.

“Hard to believe this used to be a grassy little goat track to Bram’s cottage on the bluffs,” Morgan said, waving at the dusty air. “Now it’s a construction road. And then there’s the other new road on the west end of the Flynn land too.” She gave a little sigh. “It reminds me of that Joni Mitchell song about paving paradise to put up a parking lot.”

Ryan flashed her a smile. “I prefer to think of it as progress. The resort is going to be good for the island.”

“Ha! You have to say that because you’re on the payroll, Mr. Chief of Security,” she said, ribbing him. It was only a part-time job for now but would gradually become
full-time as construction went into high gear over the next couple of months.

He laughed. “You got me.”

Actually, Morgan thought the ecoresort would probably be good for all of them. She’d pretty much discarded her worries that the fancy complex would drain business away from the B&B. Aiden was obviously sincere in his desire to create a positive working relationship between the two. The resort would focus on ecology and conservation tourism, while The Merrifield Inn would specialize in providing a homey atmosphere along with its focus on paddling sports. B&B guests could get in on the resort’s ecotours at discounted prices, while resort patrons could use the B&B’s kayaking facilities and programs.

She snuggled closer to Ryan. Being plastered against her smoking-hot lover always carried its own rewards, but today it had the added bonus of warding off the chill of a blustery October afternoon. The weather was distinctly not cooperating with Aiden’s plan for a festive groundbreaking ceremony for the resort, with overcast skies and a bone-chilling ocean wind gusting across the bluffs.

The gates of the six-foot-high construction fence were wide open today as Ryan drove through, swinging the cart around some heavy equipment to park beside a big white tent, its canvas sides partially down to protect against the elements. As soon as Morgan got out, the biting wind leached away the warmth from sticking close to Ryan. Her ivory linen dress and lacy black shawl just weren’t cutting it.

Ryan immediately wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they made their way into the tent where forty or fifty people were milling about in advance
of the speeches and cocktail reception. He was an incredibly protective man, and especially so with her. She’d been on her own for so long that she sometimes couldn’t believe that she now had someone to lean on when she needed to. It was a blessing for which she would always be grateful.

And soon they would have their own place, instead of bunking between her room at the inn and his rental at Paradise Point. They’d decided to build a separate suite for themselves in the annex. That way Morgan could still be close to her sister but have the privacy she and Ryan needed. If all went well, they’d move in before Christmas.

Ryan, naturally, had insisted on footing the bill for the addition, firmly stating that he and Morgan were now partners in everything.

And sometime next year, they’d also be husband and wife. She stole a quick glance at her diamond ring, as she did about a hundred times a day since Ryan slipped it on her finger a few evenings ago over dinner at Diamond Cove. Her engagement and all the other changes still felt a little unreal, but in the best possible way. In a matter of months, she and her sister had gone from grief to believing once more that life could be and was, in fact, really good.

While a few people had taken seats on white plastic chairs, most stood around in groups at the front of the tent or around the entrance. Inside, Aiden was holding court in a circle near a low dais. Lily rested her hand in the crook of his arm while a proud-looking Sean Flynn, dressed up for the occasion, flanked him on the other side. Bram, also in jacket and tie, was in animated conversation with Sabrina, Micah, and Jessie Jameson.

“Well, look at you, Mr. Big Shot,” Ryan said as he stuck out his hand toward Aiden. “All fancy in your coat
and tie.” He glanced down at his leather jacket and dark chinos. “I guess I’m underdressed for this crowd.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Ryan hates ties with a passion that never sleeps. I couldn’t get him to wear a sports jacket either.”

“Hey, it’s cold out today,” he protested. “I bet you wish you were wearing more clothes too.” Then he leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Although I like you best wearing nothing at all.”

“Behave yourself,” she hissed, trying not to laugh.

“I hate the damn things too,” Aiden said, sticking a finger in between his neck and the tight shirt collar. “But my wife said I had to do it for the publicity photos.”

Lily yanked on his arm. “You want to look like a slob in the Portland paper? After I had to whine and beg them to send a photographer out here for the groundbreaking?”

“Yes, dear. Whatever you say, dear,” Aiden said, his voice warm with laughter.

“Hey, Ryan,” Micah said as he joined them. “I was surprised to see the construction gate wide open with no guard in sight. Since you guys are so big on security, I thought you might at least have a couple of men out there stopping traffic and checking invitations.” He gave Ryan a taunting grin. “Gotta watch out for all those killer deer roaming around this place.”

“We thought about it, but I figured the presence of the town deputy would strike the fear of God into the local criminal elements,” Ryan said sarcastically.

“You mean like Bram?” Aiden said.

“Fuck off, bro,” his brother cheerfully replied.

Everyone laughed.

“Yeah, well,” Micah said, his gaze turning serious,
“with all the noise you and Aiden are making about security around this place, some might almost think you don’t trust the sheriff’s office to deal with any problems that might crop up.”

Lily frowned. “Oh, Micah. That’s not true. Of course they trust you.”

Aiden patted her arm. “He’s just sandpapering my ass, babe.”

Micah grinned. “Had you for a minute there, Lily, didn’t I?”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Seriously though,” Micah said, looking at Ryan, “I’m happy you took the job. I look forward to working with you. It’s great to have you back on the island.”

“Thanks, dude,” Ryan said. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Morgan had to blink back a few silly tears. She was just so darn proud and happy, especially when Sabrina slipped a hand through Ryan’s arm and started discussing plans she had for setting up box lunches for the kayaking crowd. It had been a particular joy to see Ryan and her sister growing so close and to see how well Sabrina was doing. Morgan had worried that so many changes in her life would throw Sabrina for a loop, but so far so good.

When Lily got in on the conversation with Sabrina, Ryan moved back to stand next to Morgan, slipping an arm around her waist.

“You okay, babe?” he asked. “Not too cold?”

She smiled up at him. “Not when you’re around, Soldier Boy.”

He smiled back. “Hey, it’s part of the job, along with keeping you happy.”

She rested her hands on his chest. “And you’re doing a fine job. You have no idea how happy I am, Ryan Butler.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “I feel exactly the same. You’ve made me happier than I ever thought possible, Morgan Merrifield. And I’ll be even happier when all these damn speeches are over and I can get you back home and have my evil way with you.”

She laughed. “Just remember that good things come to he who waits.”

Or
she
, in Morgan’s case, and it had been more than worth the wait.

V. K. Sykes is a wife/husband writing team—Vanessa Kelly and Randall Sykes—who write romantic suspense and single-title contemporary romance. One of the great things they appreciate about being writers is that they can work anywhere, so Vanessa and Randy split their time between Ontario, Canada, in the summer and Florida in the winter. Both locations have shores just as beautiful as the imaginary Seashell Bay.

You can learn more at:

VKSykes.com

Twitter @VKSykes

Facebook.com/VKSykesBooks

A
iden stared down into emerald eyes just as bewitching as he remembered—eyes that now also held a depth and maturity that sucked him right in. As much as he might have liked to deny it, he felt the pull toward Lily as strongly as he ever had, and he’d be willing to bet his parcel of land she felt the same.

But frigging darts . . . really? If Lily had no intention—sadly—of leaping his bones, he would have expected her to get down to business right away, pumping him for info about his position on the development project.

He glanced away from her challenging, amused stare to take in the avid gazes of the crowd, waiting with bated breath for his answer. And his destruction, he suspected, given the nasty smiles of anticipation that lit the faces of at least half the people in the bar. It was Thunderdome, Seashell Bay style, with Aiden tagged as the loser.

Just swell. Nothing like a little ritual humiliation to cap off his fabulous homecoming.

Lily Doyle had always had a touch with darts, just like Aiden had the God-given ability to hit baseballs. Most
people thought it was simply a matter of natural coordination, but there was more to it than that. Lots of people had great coordination. Damn few, though, could hit a ninety-five-mile-per-hour fastball or throw a dart with perfect precision.

Lily had coordination in spades and a sweet, sweet form.

Aiden clapped a hand to his chest, trying to look like a wounded puppy. “Such a coldhearted way to welcome a native son back to the island. Since you’re the top dog in these parts, I reckon you have some ulterior motive for wanting to whip my ass in front of the entire damn town.”

Her gaze cut off to the side for a few seconds, surprising him. Lily was never one to dodge a question or a direct challenge. But then she looked back, dazzling him with a glorious smile that fried the logic part of his brain.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied with a throaty purr that made Aiden want to lift her over his shoulder and haul her out to his truck. “I guess I’m pretty good, but you’re a
professional athlete
, after all. You’re not afraid of a little old game of darts, are you, Aiden Flynn?”

“You tell him, Lil,” Boone Cleary said, leaving his bar stool long enough to weave over and see what the fuss was all about. “Nobody walks away from a challenge on Darts Night. Not on this island, anyway.” He belched as if to emphasize his weighty intervention, which prompted a whack to the back of his head from Miss Annie and a lecture on minding one’s manners in public.

Bram whispered into Aiden’s ear, “He’s right, bro. Look, just keep saying stuff that’ll get her rattled. You can start by reminding her of that time when you and me tailed her down to Bunny Tail Trail and saw—”

“Shut up,” Aiden said through gritted teeth.

Lily had crossed to the dartboard but now came back to Aiden, still giving him that sexy smile that said,
What are you afraid of, big boy?
His brain might have been addled by waves of hot lust, but he couldn’t shake the feeling she was somehow trying to manipulate him.

“Well?” She held her palm out, daring him to take the three darts that lay there.

Instinctively, he reached out, his hand swallowing hers and the red-tailed darts. Her skin felt hot and almost as smooth as he remembered from that long-ago night, when her hands had been all over him. That surprised him, given the work she did. Of course she wore gloves on the boat, but she set and hauled traps all day long. Both his dad and Bram had always suffered from unending cuts, scrapes, and chewed-up hands from snapping lobster claws.

He froze for a few seconds, her small hand trapped in his, and his mind became swamped with images of the battle-hardened warriors who fought the cold sea and the unforgiving elements to eke out their living. He could only imagine what Lily had gone through all these years he’d been away. While he’d been playing and partying in the glamor of big-city pro baseball, the slender, fine-boned woman before him had toiled long and hard on her lobster boat, facing down the dangers—and the dangers were real and ever-present—of a brutally unforgiving family trade.

When Lily tilted her head, her half-smile curving with an unspoken question, he released her.

“You go first,” he said, sliding his hand across the swell of her hip to gently turn her toward the throw line.

“You are such a gentleman, sir,” Lily said over her shoulder, flashing him a mocking yet heated smile that went straight to his dick. “Okay, we play the usual rules here—501, straight start, double finish.”

In that sultry voice, even the scoring rules sounded like an invitation to bed boogie. “Fine. Say, who’s that girl keeping score?”

He nodded toward a tall, young woman at the side of the board who was staring intently at him as she gripped a black marker. She had cropped, dark hair and wore a black T-shirt and leggings so tight she couldn’t possibly have been wearing a scrap of fabric underneath them. Though he didn’t recognize her, she sure seemed to know him.

Lily swung around and shot him a look somewhere between puzzlement and annoyance. “That’s Jessie Jameson.”

Aiden couldn’t hold back a disbelieving laugh. He remembered Jessie as a scrawny, preteen tomboy who hung around the boatyard. It was yet another lesson that not everything on Seashell Bay Island had stayed the same.

As Lily turned into the throw line, positioning her flip-flops at a slight angle, Aiden’s eyes automatically locked onto the way her beautifully rounded ass filled out the little denim skirt.
Nice
, his libido muttered, imagining how easy it would be to slide his hands underneath that well-worn fabric and—

“Good one, Lily!” a blond woman said from a table near the board. “You give him holy hell!”

He jerked his attention away from Lily’s very fine ass to the board. Her first dart had landed in the double
twenty ring, no doubt exactly where she’d aimed it. She didn’t turn around and gloat, though, instead giving her arm a little shake as she set up for her next throw.

Aiden glanced at the woman who’d shouted out the encouragement. “I know that blonde’s a friend of Lily’s, but I can’t dredge up her name,” he said to Bram at his side. It was starting to piss him off that he couldn’t remember the names of people he’d known all his life.

“That’s Morgan Merrifield,” Bram said. “She’s a teacher up the coast now, but she comes back every summer to help her dad at the B&B. Hell, she and Lily are so freaking close they might as well be married.”

Aiden’s mind went blank. “You don’t mean that they’re . . .”

Before he even finished his sentence, Bram looked at him like he was a freak. “What the fuck, bro? Did you get hit in the head with a baseball and not tell me? Lily isn’t gay, and neither is Morgan.”

“Nothing wrong about it if they were,” Aiden said defensively. He didn’t give a shit one way or another about anyone’s sexuality, except for Lily’s. That seemed to matter a lot to him at the moment, way more than it should.

Mumbling something that sounded like
fucking bonehead
under his breath, Bram turned to watch Lily while Aiden glanced discretely at Morgan. Now he remembered her. She, like Lily, had been a couple of years behind him in school. The girls had been close back then too. He probably hadn’t recognized Morgan right off because she was thinner than she’d been in high school and because she’d worn wire-rimmed glasses back then.

Aiden returned his focus to Lily and watched as her dart just missed the double ring. A couple of seconds
later, she sent her last one on a perfect arc into the double twenty ring again. Scoring one hundred on her first set was pretty sweet.

“Woo-hoo!” Morgan yelled. “Let’s see you top that start, Mr. Big Shot.”

Aiden ignored the taunt, just as he’d learned to ignore far worse from opposing teams’ fans as he patrolled the outfield. Morgan was trying to rattle him, just as Bram had wanted him to do with Lily. But Lily’s easy mastery of the game made it plain he was in over his head.

Story of his life, when it came to Lily Doyle.

“Let’s go, Aiden! You can do it!”

He glanced to the bar where Laura was pumping her fist. He grinned at her, thankful that he had at least two supporters in the bar tonight.

Aiden held his first dart lightly in the pencil grip he favored.
Don’t think, man. Visualize the tip of the dart hitting the target and just let it go.
He repeated that mantra twice and let the dart fly, a part of his mind jeering that he was taking a darts game so seriously. But it was Lily and it was Seashell Bay, so it mattered.

The dart headed straight for the top of the twenty but clanked against the double ring and dropped to the floor.
Bounce-out.

Amid hoots from the crowd, Lily made a little shrug that held a lot more mockery than sympathy. Undaunted, Aiden launched his second dart. This time it angled perfectly between the wires for a double twenty.

Lily’s eyes narrowed as she gave him a golf clap in response—all motion and almost no sound. Her cheering squad suddenly went quiet. Apparently the game mattered to them too.

Aiden took a deep breath and held it as he threw his last dart, this time aiming for the more difficult triple ring. How better to set sweet Lily Doyle back on her heels than to score a triple twenty the first time he was up?

And . . . 
thunk
.

He did it. To the sounds of breath being sucked in from all sides, Aiden casually strolled over to the board, plucked out the two darts, and then bent to pick up the bounce-out. When he straightened, he gave Lily a deep, exaggerated bow. Damned if he didn’t feel as good as if he’d just thrown out a runner at the plate.

“Jackass,” Morgan Merrifield muttered from behind him.

Lily simply tilted her head, looking more intrigued than worried. “Decent,” she finally said, then eased up to the throw line for her second turn.

Aiden moved in close, practically whispering in her ear. “Not to blow your concentration or anything, but why the hell was Miss Annie so freaked out just now? It’s not like the stuff with the developer and the car ferry vote is a big secret.”

Okay, maybe he
was
trying to blow her concentration, but as he inhaled her scent, the years melted away. He swore her hair smelled exactly the same as it had that last night in his car, when his lips were trailing kisses over her long, perfect neck and his hands were exploring the gentle swells of her breasts and ass. Her gleaming auburn hair was as sweetly fragrant as the roses that bloomed all over the island.

He couldn’t hold back a smile. Yes, Lily had changed, had grown up. But she’d also remained essentially the same, and he found that incredibly appealing.

Clearly unfazed by his comment—or by the fact that he’d crowded her sweet bod—Lily launched her dart and then turned to face him. “I’m sorry about that. Granny’s memory isn’t what it used to be, and she sometimes thinks people are keeping her in the dark. You remember how much she hates not being in the know about absolutely everything that’s happening on the island.”

“Got it. But she sure still looks and sounds sharp to me.” Annie Letellier might be in her eighties, but she looked like the same fireball he remembered from when he was a kid. He hated to think it might be otherwise.

Lily shook her head, her hair gently brushing over her bare shoulders. “She’s definitely still our Miss Annie, but you’ll notice some differences in her, for sure.” For a nanosecond she looked sad, but then she lifted an eyebrow. “If you stick around long enough, that is.”

She was probing for clues again, but he wasn’t ready yet to give up that kind of info. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Depends on a lot of things,” he said.

But after seeing you, babe, I may not be out of here quite as quick as I’d thought.

Lily let out a derisive little snort and turned to throw again, scoring a twenty.

“This match could be close,” she said over a shoulder that Aiden wanted to caress.

“Don’t count on it,” he replied absently, letting his gaze drift down to her shapely ass.

She turned to him and blinked, as if startled that he stood so close. A faint blush washed over her cheekbones, but then she put her hands on her hips. “Then maybe we should make a little wager before we get too far in. What do you think, city boy? You up for the challenge?”

The gentle taunt in her voice tweaked his competitive instincts. “Name it,” he said.

Lily tapped an index finger on her chin, as if pondering a weighty question. “Let’s say if I win, my tab tonight is on you. If you win—like that’s going to happen—I pick up yours.”

“Even if I stay and close the place down?”

“Even if. In fact, be my guest. On Darts Night, I usually don’t go home too early.”

Which means you do every other night?
He liked that idea. Lily tucked up in her bed safe and alone—preferably in a skimpy nightie that only he would ever see.

“You’re on, then,” he said.

Lily thought she’d done a fairly respectable job preventing Darts Night from deteriorating into full-blown war. Not that Bram would ever lay a hand on a woman, much less one almost three times his age, but Granny had lots of supporters in the Pot. Any one of them would have been more than willing to throw a punch on her behalf.

Aiden had done his bit to keep the situation under control too. He’d reacted calmly and decisively, keeping his stupid brother locked down and treating Granny with a sweet, old-fashioned respect.

And she had to admit that his understated confidence turned her on a little too.

Okay, he was pretty much melting her panties.

Once a high school hunk, Aiden had now matured into an incredibly sexy man with a laid-back assurance and masculinity that vacuumed up the attention of every woman in the bar but Granny. Every cell in Lily’s overheated body was telling her that he felt the pull between
them too, and that he was more than willing to act on it. Should she use that attraction to get closer to him and probe for info? She hated the idea of using such sleazy tactics, no matter how just the cause, and the idea of getting involved with Aiden was even more anxiety provoking. She felt pretty certain that would be a one-way boat ride to a whole lot of heartache.