The Sound of Consequence (Puget Sound ~ Alive With Love Book 1) (4 page)

“I just want to know the name of the woman who’s been haunting my thoughts for the past week. The woman whose delicious scent still lingers in my bed.”

Great. She had a one-night stand with a
poetic
Cajun Sex God. This revelation wasn’t going to make it easier to walk away from him. “What if she doesn’t want to be haunting your thoughts or your bed? What if she wants to be forgotten?”

Stacie held her ground and hoped he wouldn’t take her into his arms and kiss her like he had in the club. Of course, the fast pace of her treacherous heart told a different story.

“There’s no way a night like that could ever be forgotten. It’s all I’ve been able to think about. You’re all I’ve been able to think about. I wish you wouldn’t have run out like that.”

Consequences of her actions, Stacie thought as she stood there, contemplating a subtle exit. Reinventing herself and kicking off the new her with a one-night stand seemed like the right thing to do in that moment. So did rushing out the next morning. Of course, had Stacie known he lived right across the hall, or that she’d run into him on the ferry, she might have handled it differently. Maybe she would have said thank you or something.

Owen reached up, gently caressing her cheek and Stacie resisted the urge to nuzzle against his warm skin. He took another half step closer, the wool coat brushing against her. It was such a tease. If he was that close, why not take the extra half step and press his body into hers? That’s not what she wanted, of course, but it just seemed like the right move for him to make.

His gaze dropped to her mouth and his smiled turned hungry as he continued to serenade her. “We could have enjoyed each other one more time before you left. You could have told me your name. Left me your number.”

Stacie laughed, a righteous, hideous sound that she could hardly believe came from her mouth. “You wouldn’t have called.” Guys didn’t call girls who put out on a first date. That’s what she’d overheard her high school students say. Surely grown men didn’t have a different perspective. At least in high school, you typically knew the person. A man definitely wouldn’t call a woman who was so easy that she went home with him without even knowing his name. Great Gatsby, if it hadn’t been so amazing she’d probably feel guilty about what she had done. At least they’d used condoms. She couldn’t imagine the consequences if they hadn’t.

“I would’ve called,” he said, his sultry accent like a soft caress on her skin.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Tell me your name. Give me your number. Let me prove it to you.”

“Actually, you know, I’m, umm, I’m not really interested in letting this go any further. The other night was, well, it was…” Amazing! Incredible! Unbelievable! “…fun. I’m uh, not really the kind of person who goes home with a man the first night I meet him.”

She wished she could blame it on the drinking. Two shots of Jägermeister was hardly enough to compromise her moral judgment so severely. Stacie decided he didn’t need to know that.

“I was drinking and that obviously clouded my judgment. So if you’ll excuse me.” Stacie said it with the full intent of walking away, so she was a little frustrated when her feet didn’t move.

Owen didn’t move either. He continued to stroke her cheek and his eyes came back to hers as if they were searching her true feelings. He either didn’t believe a word she said or was thinking of a way to convince her otherwise. Either way, she was in trouble. The fluttering butterflies revealed that much.

“You’re probably not going to believe me, but I’ve never done anything like that before either,” he said.

“You’re right…I don’t believe you. You were pretty well prepared.”

“Being prepared doesn’t make me a player.” He opened his hand and cupped her face in his palm. He closed his eyes and dropped his chin for a brief moment. A shadow seemed to linger until he spoke again, then it disappeared.

“To be honest, the last thing I was looking for that night was to bring someone home. For some reason, you got to me. You’re getting to me now. And for the record, it wasn’t the first time we met.” He took that final half step and wrapped his arms around her waist as he gently pressed his body into hers.

Stacie didn’t want to be reminded of that first time they met. Even awash the embarrassment of spilling coffee all over him, she couldn’t deny that he was getting to her. He’d been under her skin since the moment they touched at that cafe. Now, as his breath warmed her cheek, goose bumps covered her body. His lips were right there almost touching hers. The anticipation was more than she could handle.

“Are you going to kiss me?” she asked, taking in the easy curve of his mouth.

“Do you want me to?”

“No,” she whispered as his soft lips brushed lightly across hers.

“If you tell me your name, I won’t kiss you.”

He tightened his hold around her, pressing their bodies together even more intimately. Whoa—he was aroused. Reality faded quickly, replaced by thoughts of his naked body.

It was the nightclub all over again, except this time she couldn’t blame her impulses on the spicy liquor or an indescribable need to test her own sensuality. Despite the deck where they stood being vacant, the ferry remained a very public place and she was far too aware of the consequences of ripping his clothes off right where they stood.

“And if I don’t tell you my name…” she said, their lips continuing to dance each time one of them spoke.

“Then I’ll kiss you until you do.”

It was tempting not to tell him. The memory of kissing him did funny things to her body, inspiring tingles and chills. If he kissed her, she was done for and her new life without a man in it, well, that plan would be yesterday’s news. She wasn’t convinced that was a good idea.

“Stacie,” she confessed.

“Stacie,” he whispered slowly in a thick Cajun slur that was just as seductive as his lips.

Owen smiled again as he lowered his eyes and Stacie knew he was going to kiss her. Then the ferry came to a bumpy stop at the dock.

Time had passed so quickly she hadn’t realized they’d made it all the way across the sound. The Captain made one last announcement, instructing all passengers to disembark.

“Saved by the bell,” Owen said, still holding her close.

“You were going to kiss me anyway.” She would only admit in the depths of her mind that she was disappointed he hadn’t.

“You didn’t give me your last name. You left me no choice.”

~~~

Owen picked up her bag and tucked Stacie against his hip as he led them down the steps. When they reached the main deck, they filed in with the other passengers. It was the most natural thing, to have her this close, his arm around her, like they belonged together. He had to think fast. In a couple of minutes, he’d be getting into the naval yard’s commuter van and she’d be going…somewhere else. He needed to figure out how to see her again.

When Owen spotted the white van, he cursed his sense of responsibility. It would be a great day to play hooky and spend the day with Stacie. Unfortunately, the guys in the van would see him and skipping work to spend the day with a woman, no matter how amazing she was, just wasn’t his style. Anyway, she had responsibilities too and he guessed she wouldn’t be willing to shirk them. Maybe they could meet for lunch. Or he could cut his twelve-hour shift short to ride the ferry back with her, maybe have dinner.

He guided her to the stairs that led to Harborside Fountain Park so they could have a little privacy. “Can I walk you somewhere?” he asked.

“Actually, I’m getting back on the ferry.”

“You’re not staying in Bremerton?” He must have looked as confused as he felt because she laughed a little.

“Nope, I just came along for the ride.” She offered a cordial smile that was equivalent to being stabbed in the heart with a spoon. He longed for that passionate hunger she’d displayed the other night. “It was nice to meet you, Owen Landry.” She tried to pull back, but he held her tight, not ready to let her go.

“Wait, why are you getting back on the ferry?” It was early in the morning. The ferry mostly carried commuters at this time of day. It seemed strange that a tourist would be on this early.

“I paint. I rode the ferry to find a little inspiration.”

“You’re an artist?”

“Something like that,” she shrugged.

“Stacie, listen. I want to see you again. I work a twelve-hour shift at the naval yard. I’ll be on the 7:55 ferry back to Seattle tonight. Will you meet me? Let me take you out for a late dinner?”

“I don’t think so.” She turned to look at the ferry and as he followed her gaze, he noticed cars were boarding. If she was taking this ferry back, she’d have to board soon. The white government van parked in front of the terminal was the only vehicle still there, obviously waiting for him. He was going to have to let her go if they were both going to catch their rides.

Pulling her close again, Owen claimed Stacie’s mouth with a kiss that was far from subtle. Her belly pressed against his erection, so there was no point hiding his desire. She didn’t resist, in fact, she gripped his shoulders as though hanging on for the ride of her life.

The horn sounded from the van and Stacie pulled away. Owen cursed under his breath.

“Is that your ride?” she asked, turning toward the van.

“Yeah,” he said. “Meet me tonight. Baby, please. Right here? Promise me.” He felt desperate and hoped he didn’t sound that way. Owen had learned the hard way that women didn’t like desperate men. He’d have to put up a front to prove that his interest was genuine, not pathetic.
Fake it til you make it, Landry.

“Maybe,” she responded just as the horn sounded again. “You’d better go, it sounds like your ride is going to leave without you.” She lifted the heavy bag onto her shoulder and turned toward the ferry.

Without thinking, Owen hooked her waist and pulled her back for another heated kiss. Her lips were soft and warm as their mouths danced. He could have kissed her forever if not for the waiting van and his sense of duty.

When he let her go, she stood there for a few moments with her eyes still closed. He gave himself a mental high five for kissing her into a dreamy state. His arrogance might get the best of him, but he was sure she wouldn’t walk away now. Not after a kiss like that. Especially since she had kissed him back with the same intensity.

As her eyes opened, he pulled his multi-ride ferry pass out of his pocket and handed it to her. He wouldn’t need it for the trip back to Seattle and she could use it to get back on later. “You know where I live. You know when I ride this ferry. Your fare is paid with that pass. It’s your move.”

She took the pass, offering no indication of her intent, not a nod, not even a smile. So he pressed his lips to hers.

“Promise me you’ll be here tonight.”

“Maybe,” she whispered. “I won’t promise anything. Maybe I’ll be here.” She pulled away and headed for the ferry. Reluctantly, Owen raced for the van.

Someone swung open the rear door as he approached and when he got in, he found Bryan occupying his usual seat in the back. His buddy rented an apartment on Bremerton’s waterfront, close to the terminal, so he took advantage of the free shuttle. There were two other commuters from Seattle in the van.

“Dude, was that who I think it was?” Bryan asked, backhanding Owen on the shoulder.

Owen, nodded, unable to contain his huge smile.

“Serious? How’d you find her?” Puget Sound covered a big area and Seattle was a busy city. Owen knew his friend was skeptical about him finding her again.

“She was right there, on the ferry this morning. It was strange. When I was out on the main deck, I had this strange feeling when I was out there. I know this sounds crazy, but it’s like I could sense she was there. I turned around and looked up at the top deck and there she was, eyes closed, smiling, breathing in the morning air.”

“Dude, you sound like a chick,” Bryan said, backhanding him on the shoulder again.

“I know.” Owen dropped his shoulders and shook his head. “Hell, this is crazy. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since Starbucks…then again after the club. And then…there she was…on the ferry.”

“And you just let her go again.”

Owen sighed. “Like I need reminding of that.”

He looked out the back window of the van as it traveled away from the terminal. He had no idea whether she’d be there tonight. All he could do was hope and trust fate. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they’d run into each other three times in the past week. He just prayed that she believed in fate, too. “She’s gotta be on the ferry tonight. Dammit, she’s gotta be.”

It was almost nine o’clock
when Stacie got back to the condo. Riding the ferry all day wasn’t going to help her find inspiration, not with the distraction that this morning’s chance encounter conjured up.

Owen Landry, she repeated over and over in her head. He had a nice name. It suited him and his sexy Cajun everything. And those lips of his. In Bremerton she’d allowed herself to indulge in one last kiss. Then Stacie would put him out of her mind forever. Never mind the fact that her girl parts were still tingly and she was already thinking about meeting him on the ferry tonight.

Jenny stood near the sink pouring coffee when Stacie walked into the kitchen. Green stilettos sat on the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the dining area. The shoes were just a shade lighter than Owen’s dark eyes. Stacie sighed quietly, unable to put the man out of her head.

Jenny looked fantastic in a slate gray pants suit. She was the same height as Stacie, but the black pinstripes made her look taller, even in bare feet. Since Jenny walked the ten blocks to her office, Stacie knew the stilettos would find their way into Jenny’s bag before she left for the day.

“Hey girlfriend,” Jenny said when Stacie propped herself up on one of the bar chairs. She handed the cup of coffee to Stacie and reached for another cup in the cupboard. “Back from your ferry adventure already? That was only about one round trip, if you even made it to the ferry.”

“Oh, I made it to the ferry. The Cajun Sex God was on board.” Stacie added a little sugar and took a long, slow sip. She hadn’t dressed warmly enough for the ferry and despite the heat that Owen’s touch had generated, she’d had plenty of time on the return trip to catch a chill. She was grateful for the warmth of the coffee.

“No shit,” Jenny said with a laugh. “That’s funny. You keep yourself cooped up here for days to avoid him and the first time you seek inspiration, you see him. Maybe he’s meant to be your muse.”

“More like my distraction,” Stacie replied, frustrated that another day was going to pass with no forward momentum on her illustrations.

“So did you talk to him? What happened? Deets, girlfriend!!” Jenny made herself comfortable on the chair next to Stacie, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“It’s like I could sense him. I got this strange tingle down my neck. Can you believe that? And it’s not the first time it’s happened.” Stacie shook her head.

She hadn’t felt right since the car accident in April. Despite the initial CT scan being normal, the vertigo hit her on occasion. If it hadn’t been for the car accident, she’d chalk the tingle thing up to pure chemistry, not that she really believed in that sort of thing. Everything had changed since that fateful night, though. Stacie had changed. It was all for the better.

She’d been unhappy for so long that she hadn’t even realized it wasn’t normal. Now, looking back it was all so clear that she should have left that life behind years ago. She was also very aware of the things that were so different about her. This neck tingle thing was at the top of her list of anomalies. Stacie wondered if the head injury had left her with some sort of sixth sense. Not one that signaled danger, though if she allowed herself to get involved with Owen Landry, that could be a dangerous thing. She didn’t have good judgment when it came to men. Hence the reason she’d stayed with Greg for ten years.

“The first time I saw him in that café, I got the same tingle in my neck. And again at the club. Then this morning, I’m standing on the upper deck and I got the same strange tingling sensation. Plus I could smell his cologne.” She remembered how her body reacted, knowing it was him before she even saw him. “I opened my eyes and he was on the main deck, staring at me.”

“Shit, he must have smelled you, too.” Jenny sniffed in Stacie’s direction. “I can’t smell you. He must be tuned to your pheromones or something.”

“Or something,” Stacie giggled. Jenny’s silly sniffing lightened the mood, pulling Stacie out of the past and dissipating the frustration of running into her neighbor. “Anyway, his name is Owen. He works at the naval yard.” Stacie relayed the conversation to Jenny, who listened intently.

“Good God, girl, you’re a player.”

“I am not!” Stacie retorted defensively.

“Hey, I’m not saying it like it’s a bad thing. He wants you, that’s obvious. You’re the one who has all the control. And he’s smokin’ hot to boot. You’re living the dream, girlfriend.”

Stacie had no idea what she was doing. She’d never been much of a flirt. Hearing herself say these things to this man, and then kissing him like that right there for the world to see made her wonder who the…
hell
…she was.

Oh, wait, she had the answer to that. This was the new and improved Stacie Nightingale. Consequences were no longer considered before action.

The strange thing was, she wasn’t trying to flirt with him. If she’d been doing it consciously, with thought and effort, she’d take the credit for reinventing herself, but it was all beyond her control. Maybe there was such a thing as chemistry.

“What would you think if I had a hot fling? Sleep with him a few more times, you know, get it out of my system. Does that make me sound slutty?”

Jenny laughed. “Definitely not. It’s not like you’re screwing everyone at the naval yard.”

“It just feels weird, to be so free and easy.” Caught up in the mania of the dance club, it seemed natural to seduce a sexy stranger on the dance floor and seek out a one-night stand. In the daylight, however, it was easier to fall into old habits.

“You’re twenty-eight, Stace. It’s OK to take control of your sex life. If you want my humble opinion…”

Stacie rolled her eyes, as if she could stop Jenny from sharing her opinion. Jenny pegged her on the shoulder and continued. “You came here to start a new life, right?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t plan to have a man in it. Not even just for sex.”

“Well, it’s the new you. Who cares that it wasn’t in your plan. Just have fun with it. It may lead somewhere. It may not. Maybe you’re just meant to have a few more orgasms. Don’t deny yourself that! When the time is right, you’ll find your inspiration.”

Stacie hoped that would be the case. Sex with Greg was routine at best and now all she could think about was getting naked with Owen. She’d always thought sex was overrated. It was amazing how one incredible night could change someone’s perspective.

“So, you’re going to be riding the 7:55 ferry back to Bremerton?”

Stacie nodded. “Absolutely. If you feel the building shaking later, it’s not an earthquake.”

Jenny slapped her a high five. “Should I expect you home tonight?” she asked with a coy smile.

“Absolutely,” Stacie said again. It was going to take all of her willpower to pull herself away from Owen’s delicious body, but if this was a sexy fling, she was not going to fall asleep in his bed. They’d meet on the ferry, have mind blowing sex at his place, she’d thank him and come home. Sleeping in her own bed was the smartest thing she could do.

“Why don’t you come to work with me this morning? I can introduce you to the gang. CC is dying to meet you.”

Stacie’s stomach flipped then flopped, tossing a good dose of bile up her throat. She’d never had nerves of steel. It was one reason why she’d become an English teacher. Kids didn’t intimidate her at all. In fact, she could relate to the insecurities of teenagers who had yet to find their place in the world. Dealing with adults, especially editors who could crush her dreams as part of their daily routine, well, that wasn’t a skill she’d acquired. No amount of reinventing herself had conjured up skin that thick.

“No. No, no, no. I’m not going to your office.”

“You’re just meeting people, girlfriend. It’s not Armageddon.”

It was her childhood all over again, the fear of rejection and the devastating nervousness that had paralyzed Stacie during all those singing auditions. The first one had been at age five, shortly after the choir director at their church had suggested to Stacie’s mother that she audition for a local children’s program on PBS. Stacie didn’t want to. It had been difficult enough to sing in the church Christmas pageant with all the parishioners gawking at her.

“I’m not ready for that, Jen. I need to have illustrations first.” Lame excuse, but mostly true. How could she pitch her stories without the illustrations to go with them? She’d be setting herself up for failure.

“You’ve been ready for years.”

Stacie wished that had been the case. Unhappy for years, yes. Ready to do something about it, no. It embarrassed her that it took losing Audrey to make her wake up. Stacie wanted to meet CC, or Caren Campbell, but she was an acquiring editor at Bay City Publishers, the company where Jenny had worked since college. It was unlikely someone in her position wanted to casually meet an aspiring author. If Jenny was simply going to introduce Stacie as a friend, that would be fine. But Stacie knew better. When she’d decided to head to Seattle, just two weeks ago, she’d called Jenny from the road. The call was short, highlighting key events.

I left Greg.

I’m on my way to Seattle.

I’ve written eight stories that I plan to illustrate. I’m going to be a children’s author.

After that initial call, they’d talked every night from Stacie’s hotel room. Jenny was going to use her influence at Bay City to shortcut publication for Stacie. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. Networking was as important as talent and Jenny knew how talented Stacie was. Caren Campbell was already interested and eager to meet Stacie.
And, holy shit girlfriend, I’m so proud of you
.

Stacie was proud of herself too. It was the first time in her life she was doing something for herself. There were no expectations from anyone. She wasn’t worried about her mother’s disapproval and since she was out from Greg’s hold, he couldn’t undermine her dreams. She was finally living her own life, not the life everyone expected her to live.

It felt good.

And scary as Victorian London on a dark, foggy night.

That was the point, though wasn’t it? She had to face her fears, if not embrace them. She was no longer a gifted child with a mother who only wanted to exploit her daughter’s talent for her own agenda. Stacie was in charge now. Moving forward meant taking risks. She wasn’t going to be able to paint after her encounter with Owen, so maybe meeting CC was the motivation her inner muse needed.

“What do I wear?” Stacie asked, conceding.

Jenny smiled victoriously. “Any of your teacher garb is fine.”

Stacie laughed. “I gave it to Goodwill.”

“Everything?”

Stacie nodded. “I kept two pairs of jeans and exercise clothes. I even purged my conservative pajamas.”

“We need to go shopping.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t help me right now.”

Jenny smiled. “I’ve got just the thing for you.”

“I can’t wear your clothes to your work,” Stacie said. Jenny had incredible fashion sense, dressing professionally with a bit of flair. Her business clothes were memorable. Stacie didn’t want her first impression to be that she had to borrow her best friend’s clothes to go out in public.

“I’ve got some stuff I’ve never worn. Tags still on. Consider it a welcome to Seattle gift.”

“Really?” Stacie beamed. In college, she’d loved borrowing Jenny’s clothes. Lacking Jenny’s curves, Stacie didn’t fill them out quite as well as Jenny, but it beat the conservative crap her mother had insisted she wear and Greg approved of.

Jenny disappeared into her bedroom and came back with blue flared trousers and a shimmering gold lace shirt. “Can you manage heals?”

“Can I walk there in sneakers and change in the elevator?”

“I do it every day,” Jenny said.

It took Stacie a good hour to get ready. Her hair was windblown from the ferry. She was about to work it into a French braid when she remembered that was a conservative style Greg approved of. Instead, she took a brush to it and swung it around a few times. This was Seattle. Long, unruly hair was all the rave, wasn’t it? Well, it would be today.

Stacie put on a modest amount of make-up, which was more than she was accustomed to wearing. The teal eyeliner brought out the green in her hazel eyes and the shimmery eye shadow really added the pop factor. Mascara and pink lip gloss finished off the look. She smiled at the woman in the mirror, an improved version of her former self, and felt ready to conquer the world. Hopefully the elevator had mirrors so she could get that visual reminder that the meek school teacher no longer existed. She was Stacie Nightingale, writer and illustrator, a woman who took risks and had one-night stands with men she didn’t know. Well, man.

Would Owen Landry like her professional look? Not that she needed his approval. In fact, a man’s approval was the last thing Stacie was seeking. But she wondered if he’d gaze at her with that fire in his eyes. So far he’d seen her in jeans. Jeans at Starbucks, jeans at the club, jeans on the ferry. He’d also seen her naked, so maybe clothes were irrelevant. The memory of him without his clothes was burned into her brain and it was something she had thought about on the ferry this morning despite the thick coat and loose slacks he wore. Had he been thinking about their night together too?