Sweet Talkin' Scoundrel (9 page)

BOOK: Sweet Talkin' Scoundrel
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Chapter 14

Kinley

It was Saturday
but Katherine insisted that Becky have at least two hours of studying. Normally, it was the pupil who was distracted, but today it was the teacher. I’d done it to myself. I knew darn well that starting something with Dax was the last thing I needed. But he was so darn irresistible.

Becky sat at her desk finishing some questions about Ancient Egypt. She was so excited about my mummy’s curse story, she’d insisted we skip the Ancient China chapter and go straight to Egypt.

I sat at my desk with a red pen, prepared to draw marks all over Becky’s personal narrative, but, surprisingly, there were few mistakes. She was truly a bright student. I’d asked her to choose any memorable story from her life and added that it should be something that evoked a lot of emotion. So it was no big surprise she chose the terrible day her dad died. She was only five at the time, but it was amazing how many details she remembered. She’d even told the story from the point of view of her five-year-old self. She was a much better storyteller than her mother. Halfway through the paper, I found myself so wrapped up in the story, I forgot I was supposed to be grading it.

“This is incredibly well written, Becky. Nice work.”

“Thank you,” she piped up from behind her book.

I read on and some confusion followed. I reread the fourth paragraph again to make sure I comprehended it correctly. “Becky, I think you mixed up some details in your story.”

Becky tapped her pencil against her chin. “Hmm, you’re right. I think I caught two fish instead of three. Might have added that just to make it sound more interesting.”

I got up and carried the paper to her desk. “Actually, it’s a little more significant than the fish count. It says that James carried you and Marcus to the island. But your mother told me Marcus had been the one to save you and your brother.”

She lifted her brows and laughed. “Marcus? No way. It was James. Marcus and I waited on the island, but James didn’t return. The rescue boat finally arrived, and they had to pull James away from Dad. He wouldn’t let him go. Even though Daddy wasn’t breathing anymore, James wouldn’t let him go.”

I stared down at the paper. “But why would your mother tell me Marcus had saved you?”

Becky picked up her pencil. “Not sure. Maybe because she never liked James.” Her eyes lit up with a different topic. “Are we still going out to play volleyball?”

“Just as soon as you finish that paper.”

“Woohoo. I’m on the last question.” She leaned over her book and paper and got back to work.

I returned to my desk and read the rest of the story, where Becky went into detail about the coast guard not being able to get James to release his dad. It made my throat tighten to think about a young man who had just rescued his siblings. He was no doubt freezing and exhausted but not enough to leave his dead father alone in the water. If the story was true the way Becky told it, and with the way she spoke so confidently about it there was no reason not to think so, then why the heck had Katherine told me a false version? And why the heck would a mom hate her own child, especially one who’d risked his life to save his brother and sister?

Chapter 15

Kinley

It was that
pristine time of the day when the sun provided the perfect amount of warmth and the on-shore breezes had crept away for the afternoon. Becky and I had dragged two potted plants off the porch to create an invisible net for a game of volleyball. Although our skills, or lack thereof, had turned it more into a game of chase the ball.

I thumped the ball with my fist, and it arched over to Becky’s side. She cupped her hands together and dove for it. It flew straight into the hedges. Becky watched it disappear, yet again, into the shrubs and dropped to her knees. “Oh my gosh, can I be any more lame?”

I headed toward her.

She lifted her hands up. “At least I have red wrists to prove I’ve been playing volleyball. Even if the ball never actually made it to the other side.”

“That’s the spirit.” I offered her my hand and pulled her to her feet. “Why don’t you go find the ball. I’ll go inside and get some water and a few of those grapes.”

“Ooh yeah, except bring me a banana instead of the grapes.”

“Right, one banana, coming up.”

I walked into the house and met Marcus on his way out of the library. Katherine had been in King’s Beach all day catching up on work. The house was, somehow, more casual without her presence. The atmosphere was far more relaxed.

Marcus smiled shyly before having the courage to speak. “I saw your rousing game of volleyball. What Becky lacks in coordination, she makes up in smiles and laughter. You’re very good for her. I can see that.”

“Thank you.” Compliments and words of praise were rare in Underwood Manor, and they were nice to hear. “How is the model coming along?”

“Very well. Do you have a moment to come see the progress?”

I looked out the front window. Becky was busying herself with a series of somersaults across the lawn, an activity Katherine would probably have frowned upon. I’d noticed immediately that Becky took full advantage of her freedom when her mother was off the island.

“Absolutely. I’m just on a banana mission for Becky, but she looks occupied at the moment.”

He turned and led me down the hall to the library. Before we reached the room, I heard Tero’s familiar engine in the distance, a sound that sent my heart racing. Apparently Katherine was on her way back to the island. I badly wished I had an excuse to walk over to the runway. It was frustrating to know that Dax was going to be on the island, just a quarter mile away, and I wasn’t able to see him.

My thoughts about Dax had taken me out of the moment. Marcus called my name loudly, assuring me it wasn’t the first time he’d said it.

He was in the library motioning me inside. “I seem to have caught you in a daydream.”

“No, uh yes. Sorry. I heard the plane coming in, and there are a few things I need to ask your mother about the slumber party.” It wasn’t a complete lie. I did have a few things to ask her.

“Yes, the slumber party. Becky has mentioned it to me about a thousand times. And that is no exaggeration.” He stopped at the table and stared down at his work. The hull of the ship was nearly complete and some of the masts were ready to go.

The pungent smell of glue hovered over the table in a toxic cloud. I waved my hand in front of my face to clear the air.

“Would you like a mask?” Marcus reached for the box.

“No, I’ll only be here a few minutes. But I do wonder how you don’t end up with a constant headache from the fumes.”

“I think I’ve grown immune to the smell.”

I gazed down at the model. “It’s beautiful. Museum quality, Marcus. Well done.”

The small curl of a lip that I’d determined to be his default smile was the only way I could tell he appreciated the compliment.

“You probably think it’s strange for a grown man to sit and build model ships all day.” It was the first time he’d started a conversation about his habits. I wasn’t sure exactly how to respond. A step in any direction could be the wrong one.

“Strange? No, not at all. It takes a great deal of patience and skill to build something of this quality. I do wonder, occasionally, if you aren’t sometimes bored with the solitude of living on an island.” I took the fact that he didn’t shoo me immediately from the room as a sign that he wasn’t too upset with my question.

The screech of airplane wheels squeaking along the runway diverted his attention to the window. “Mother’s back.” He stared down at his model for a moment and then looked up at me. “There are times when I wish that—” he glanced down at his overly clean hands. He never tried to deny his phobia of germs, but he rarely spoke openly about it or called it by name. “Anyhow, I’ve found that I don’t mind living here. Who needs the trial and aggravation of being around people? And then there’s traffic and noise.” The one thing he left off was germs.

“But then there are visits to ship museums and amazing sights like the Grand Canyon.”

His mouth turned down in a frown. “Yes, I miss out on a lot. I know I’ve created a prison for myself here, but I see no other way. It keeps me sane. Or reasonably sane,” he added with a small laugh.

The laugh took me by surprise, but it was nice to hear. “Well, I better get that banana for Becky. Thank you again for showing me the model.”

“You’re welcome.”

I hurried down the hallway in hopes that I could get in and out of the kitchen before running into Katherine. I was sure I’d have to give her an entire rundown of the morning.

Through the kitchen window, I caught a glimpse of Katherine stepping onto the lawn. “Darn it, forgot to put the plants back,” I said to myself as I caught her frowning at them. I plucked off a banana, grabbed a glass of water and then hurried out the side door. I could no longer here Tero’s engine, and I wondered if in my haste to get to the kitchen, I’d missed the takeoff.

Katherine was talking to Becky when I circled around the house. She saw the water in my hand. “Oh good. I was just telling Becky she needed to hydrate.”

I handed Becky the banana and water.

“Later you can fill me in on how the morning lessons went.” She lifted her briefcase. “I’ve got work to finish.”

“Absolutely.” I’d been debating all morning on whether or not to bring up the details of Becky’s story, to get to the bottom of the confusion. My conversation with Marcus put an end to the debate. It was clear Katherine wanted to build up Marcus’s character. Not that any of it made a difference to me. If he was happy with the way he lived his life then, who was I to judge.

Katherine headed into the house but stopped just short of going inside. “Kinley, don’t forget to put those plants back.”

“Right.”

Becky sat on the porch with her banana, and I scurried down to the lawn. I picked up one of the potted plants, a rubber plant with thick glossy leaves, and carried it up the steps. I leaned down and used the faint water ring it had left behind to place it in the exact location.

Behind me, Becky’s shoes clattered down the front steps. “James!”

I was startled to hear the name. How strange that Katherine hadn’t mentioned that James had flown in with her. Satisfied that the plant was in precisely the right spot, I straightened and, using the porch railing, decided to catch a surreptitious peek at the elusive James Underwood.

Becky’s pink high top sneakers flew up behind her as she raced across the lawn. The glare of the sun obstructed the view of the pathway, but the plants parted and a figure stepped out, a figure that sent my heart racing.

Dax stepped into the clearing. I waited to see who followed only to be stunned breathless as Becky jumped into Dax’s arms.

I could hear her giggling about something, but couldn’t make out the words. As he answered her, Dax’s deep, soothing voice rolled across the lawn and over me like a cozy caress. His gaze circled the yard, and he managed to find me hiding in the shadows of the porch.

I walked down the steps and met them halfway across the lawn. Dax was holding back a sly grin. He reached across and discretely touched my arm without Becky noticing.

“Dax has to stay and work on Tero. Can you take me for a ride later?” Becky asked.

“Ask your mom first. But I’m pretty sure what the answer will be.”

For the first time since Dax had walked into the clearing, Becky rocked her heels back and planted her feet down on the ground. Her bottom lip pouted out. “She’ll say no. I don’t even have to waste my breath. Do you have any more passengers today? Can you stay the night?”

Dax had a hard time keeping his gaze off of me while he answered Becky’s questions. Every time his green eyes landed on me, I felt a warm flush cover my skin. “I’m through for the day, but I don’t know if I’ll stick around, Beck.”

“Oh, come on. You never stay. Mother will be fine with it. You have to. Kinley and I are going to have a slumber party. She’s going to tell me about the time when a mummy cursed her. You can stay for the story. We’ll let you have some popcorn too. But then you have to leave. It’s a girls’ slumber party.”

Dax’s dark brows rounded as he smiled at me. “A mummy’s curse? Don’t know if I can miss that.” He stopped Becky just before she jumped up for a cheer. “Maybe. No promises.”

“I’ll take that maybe as a possible yes. Sounds better like that. I’ve got to go clean my room before tonight.” She hugged him again and ran toward the house.

I was left alone on the lawn with Dax. It felt strange to be standing with him in front of the house. I gave him a questioning look. He dropped his gaze and kicked at a weed in the grass.

“You’re James Underwood.”

“Guess so.” He looked up, but there wasn’t much change in his expression.

“How come you never told me?”

“You never asked.”

“That’s just stupid. Why would I have asked? Other than Becky, you’ve never said one nice thing about the Underwoods.”

“Yep, and I stand by my record on that.” He headed toward the second plant.

I followed him. “But Katherine—she—” I wasn’t sure how to word it, but Dax filled in the blanks.

“Hates me?”

“Well, hate is a strong word.” I tagged along with him as he carried the plant back to the porch.

“Not for her. And Katherine isn’t really my mom. Not in the natural sense, anyhow. Not really in any sense if I think about it.”

I trailed along behind him across the porch and glanced into the windows we passed to make sure Katherine wasn’t close enough to hear.

Dax placed the plant down in the circle it had left behind. Then he swung around and pulled me into his arms. He kissed me before I could protest, but I quickly pushed him away. “Someone will see us.”

He laughed. “Guess you don’t want to be seen fraternizing with the enemy.”

I stared up at him. “I don’t understand. If she’s not your mom—”

“I need to get some tools. Might need some assistance.” He grabbed my hand and led me down the steps and across the lawn.

I had to practically run to keep up with his long, purposeful stride. “Do you use regular tools, like hammers and wrenches, to fix your airplane?”

“Yep, I just pop open Tero’s top and start clinkering away inside, hoping it will fix things.” He smiled at me. “The passenger seat is squeaking. Something needs tightening.”

We headed in the direction of the two outbuildings. One was a garage that Becky had mentioned was used for storage of furniture. The other looked like a smaller version of the manner, a matching guest house that was never used ‘because of the lack of guests’, as Becky had comically noted.

Dax stopped at the first building. While the landscape around the house was neatly trimmed and well cared for, the plants and grass around the outbuildings had been mostly ignored. Weeds grew everywhere and the boxwood shrubs were no more than tufts of green leaves growing in every direction.

“It seems strange to have a garage on an island where there are obviously no cars.”

Dax had to use all his strength to slide open the heavy door. “It’s actually a carriage house. Just as useless, but from what Jack had told me, the original nineteenth century architect insisted a manor had to have a carriage house no matter the location.”

I followed Dax inside, waving my arms instinctively to keep away the sticky cobwebs dangling from every corner. As Becky had mentioned, the building was stacked with furniture that had been neatly wrapped in plastic. Some of it looked incredibly valuable, at least with historic value, yet, there it was, languishing in a windowless carriage house.

Dax led me to the back of the building to a hidden corner that was lined with shelves of tools.

“You called him Jack. So he wasn’t your dad either?”

He turned around and leaned against the shelf. “My mom was Jack’s younger sister. My own dad died when I was little. My mom followed him to the grave two years later. Drug overdose. I was left an orphan, so Jack adopted me. He was a great surrogate dad. I loved him far more than my own parents, and he loved me. Katherine never liked me. And I never liked her. Mutual dislike right from the start. Marcus always follows his mother’s lead on everything. So he hates me too.”

Dax took hold of my hand and pulled me against him. His hand pushed under my sweater. “Now let’s switch topics to something else.”

His touch and his nearness made it easy to forget the rather tangled topic of the Underwood family. I melted against him, relishing in the feel of his hard body against mine.

“What topic would you like to switch to?” I asked as I fingered the black stubble on his jaw.

“Hmm, for starters, what color bra are you wearing?” He lifted my sweater, and the chilled, musty air of the building swept across my bare skin. “Pink. I like Pink.” He pushed the bra down exposing my breast. His tongue drew a delicious circle around my nipple as his hand got to work on the fly of my jeans.

“What if someone comes out here?”

“No one ever comes to this building except me and the gardener. And he’s not on the island today.”

He lifted his mouth to mine and kissed me. “I haven’t thought of anything else but you since you left my bed yesterday. You know what fucking torture it is to still breathe in your scent on my sheets and not have you there to touch.” His hand trailed along my belly. “To kiss.” He moved his hot mouth down my neck. I gripped his arms, slowly losing my ability to stand straight. He lifted his mouth to my ear. “To fuck.”

Dax turned me around so that I was facing the shelf. He pushed my hair away from my neck and continued the kisses. A tingling sensation trailed down my back and seemingly found its way to my pussy. He dragged his tongue around my earlobe.

“Do you want me right now, Rabbit?” As he spoke, he took hold of my hands and pressed them against the shelf to brace myself. “Say it. You know what I want to hear.”

“I want you, Dax. Right now. Please.”

He yanked my jeans and panties down to my ankles and stopped to kiss and nibble my naked bottom on the way back up. “I knew this ass was bitable.”

I pushed against his mouth, wanting more.

“You like that, huh, baby?” His teeth lightly bit my naked bottom while his hand circled around in front of me. He slipped it between my legs. My jeans made it hard to part my legs but I made up for it by pushing my bottom out farther. “That’s it, baby. I knew you were wild. I knew you loved to fuck. And I knew you’d taste this sweet.”

My gasp echoed in the building as he flicked his tongue between the folds of my pussy. He teased my clit with his thumb as he impaled me with his tongue. My head felt light as if his touch alone had made me intoxicated. I gripped the shelf, working hard not to melt to the floor.

“Dax, yes.” The words floated from my mouth as I felt my body roll toward the edge of an orgasm.

“Not yet, baby. Not yet. I want to be buried inside of you. I want to feel your pussy tighten like a fucking clamp around my cock.” His dirty talk only brought me closer to climax.

“Hurry, Dax,” I pleaded.

He groaned as he pushed to his feet. I was weak with wanting him as I heard him push down his jeans and put on a condom.

BOOK: Sweet Talkin' Scoundrel
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