Wet: Whispering Cove, Book 2 (2 page)

Jesus, it was so perfect. She was so perfect.

Then she’d left.

“Fuck!”

Trent turned back around and shelved those thoughts to the recesses of his mind, not wanting to travel too far down memory lane. Christ, Adam was right. He was pathetic. Totally fucking pathetic.

Maybe Adam was right about fucking her, too.

The truth was, he’d never gotten over Katy and loved her now as much as he had back then, which was why he hadn’t begged her to stay when she said she wanted to move on to bigger and better. It cut to his core when she left, but he couldn’t fault her for wanting to experience life outside Whispering Cove. Not everyone was cracked up for small-town living. He knew that truth firsthand.

Right after high school, his mother had gotten pregnant. Some said she trapped his father, but Trent didn’t like to believe it. His father had gotten a scholarship upstate, but with a child on the way, he never had the chance to go. Instead, he’d ended up working the fishing vessels like his father before him. His dreams of pursuing a career in engineering were flushed out to sea. Resentment ran deep, and his dad had ended up searching for happiness in the bottom of a bottle. He’d never found it. Instead he found his way to an early grave, his mother not too far behind.

Trent swallowed down the lump in his throat as old, painful memories rose to the surface like air bubbles. Jesus, he never wanted Katy to resent him the way his dad had resented his wife and son. He knew Katy belonged in Whispering Cove, it was in her blood, but if she had to go away to find herself, to forget who she really was and take on the persona of big-city-girl Kathleen Wilson until she came to that conclusion herself, then who was he to stop her? But deep down he’d thought she’d be back. Thought she’d come home. To him.

He’d thought wrong.

So maybe Adam
was
right and it was finally time to do something to get over her.

Something drastic.

Chapter Three

Every single time the bell over the restaurant’s door chimed, Katy jumped out of her skin, half expecting to see Trent sauntering into the Seafarer, and half hoping he wouldn’t. She’d been home only two days now and the town was abuzz with her return, abuzz with the return of all those who’d come back for the reunion, in fact. But a lot of attention had been directed at her, and the notable fact that both she and Trent were still single.

She turned in time to see Doctor Danica Kent, Braydon Mitchell and his granddad Byron walk in and felt equal measures of relief and disappointment. Her folks had told her Trent and the rest of the boys from station 415 always gathered at the restaurant on Friday, and as of yet, every other member of his team had come except him.

Seemed Trent wasn’t so keen on seeing her. Not that she could blame him. After all, hadn’t she gone out of her way to avoid him for the last ten years? But she was in town for eight weeks and sooner or later they were bound to come face-to-face. A nervous sensation grew in her belly just thinking about it.

Katy grabbed her notepad and stuffed it into her apron, then smoothed down the skirt on her bright pink, fifties-style uniform. She couldn’t believe her parents had kept her old uniform for all these years, or that she actually still fit into it. Although she had to admit that her hips were a little wider, her breasts a little fuller and she filled the uniform out in ways she never could as a teen. It felt a little sexy, a little daring, a step away from her usual professional television attire, and she kind of liked it.

Katy crossed the wide expanse of floor as even more people came through the main door and sat themselves in mismatched captains’ chairs and boat benches turned into seats. To one corner, a large gathering of tourists were laughing loudly and tossing their shells into the recessed holes in the middle of the table while taking bets on who had the best shots. A few children sat to one end and were using crayons to draw on the draping sheet of white paper that doubled as a tablecloth. As she took in the crowd, a few more people she recognized from high school found their way inside. The sight of her old classmates had her thinking of Andie Adair, her long-lost best friend. Katy somehow doubted Andie would be back for the reunion. Andie and Katy had been tight, but Andie had pulled away from everyone and everything after her folks had died.

Katy wiped the frown from her face when she reached Braydon’s table. She nudged him with her hip, and with a huge smile on his handsome face, he jumped up to greet her. They hugged and exchanged a few pleasantries as well as a few teasing jibes before she took their order. Just as she was about to leave, she thought about how good Danica looked and turned back to ask where she had her hair done, thinking her own could use a new style. However, the television station didn’t like for her to do anything too drastic without their permission. Thinking of the station soured her smile and reminded her that she still had a huge decision to make. But it was a decision she couldn’t make until she faced Trent.

Not wanting to dwell on it right now, she went to work on filling orders.

“Katy, order up,” her mother, Annette Wilson, called from the kitchen.

Katy hurried to the back room, and when her mom with her pretty silver hair cut to frame her oval face gave her a warm smile, her bright blue eyes glistening in delight, Katy’s heart turned over. It was clear how happy her mother was, having all three of the Wilsons back working together in the kitchen, just like old times.

Katy wanted to ask about business, but she also remembered her promise, so instead she decided to ease into the conversation naturally. “Mom, the place is packed and you’re run off your feet.” Despite that, Katy thought her mother looked fit and completely happy to be hustling about. Actually, she seemed to thrive on it today as much as she had when Katy was younger. “Maybe you should hire extra help,” she suggested, giving her mother an opening to talk about her finances.

Her dad, Pete, left the grill, and came up behind her mother. His gray hair might be thinning, and his eyes might have more lines framing the edges, but he was still just as strong and robust as ever. He patted his wife on the backside and winked. “Cooking keeps her young. Just look at her, she’s as beautiful today as the day I met her.”

Her mom went up on her toes and gave him a kiss. Katy rolled her eyes as she watched them, but deep down she knew she wanted the same thing. A loving marriage with a guy who, after thirty years, still looked at her with love in his eyes. “Do you two ever stop?”

“Oh Katy, you’re such a fuddie duddie,” her mother said and waved a dismissive hand.

Katy laughed, and grabbed the order. “Fuddie duddie? Now that’s something I haven’t been called in quite a while.” When Katy left the kitchen, she spotted Andie and Brody and just about dropped her tray as she rushed across the room to see them.

After seeing her best friend, and making her swear they’d get together soon, the rest of the afternoon had flown by. As she thought about making an evening appointment at Whispering Salon, a place where she was bound to get the best gossip in town, the bell above the door chimed.

Katy shot a glance around the kitchen and noted she was all alone. Where had everyone gone? The dinner staff would be coming in soon, but where had her folks disappeared to? She’d been so busy playing with new menu ideas, hoping the addition of a few gourmet dishes would help draw in new patrons, that she hadn’t paid any attention to her surroundings. Not that the restaurant had room for more patrons, she mused. They were at peak tourist season and the place was packed tighter than a tin of sardines. She alone must have rung in at least two thousand dollars in sales that afternoon. Had her grandfather been completely honest about her parents’ financial troubles? But since he’d sworn her to secrecy, she couldn’t ask. She could only observe. Maybe she’d try to get a look at the books later.

She heard a noise in the other room, and heavy boots scraping over the old plank floor heralded someone’s approach.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” she called out over her shoulder, and wiped the sticky flour from her hands. She caught her reflection in the glass refrigerator door as she hurried to the dining area. Good God, she had flour on her face, and strands of hair, once neatly piled on the top of her head, had fallen out and were jutting out in all directions. Cripes, she looked like she’d styled her hair with an egg beater.

Concentrating on trying to stick the wayward locks back into place, she rushed through the swinging door and, not looking where she was going, collided with a solid brick wall. Air rushed from her lungs with a whoosh, and she stumbled backwards. Strong hands slipped around her waist to right her, and she glanced up only to discover that the brick wall was none other than Trent Parker.

Oh God…

“Hey,” he said, as capable arms packaged her tight against his body. Dark, intense eyes met hers and they exchanged a long, heated look, one that spoke of want and desire. One that nearly shut down her brain. A tremble moved through her as delicious warmth spread over her skin.

“Hey yourself,” was all she managed to get out as his hands slipped from her back to rest on the sides of her hips. His touch was shockingly intimate and did the most naughty things to her libido. He splayed his hands wider, and the feeling was so sensual, so damn erotic, her skin flushed hotly and she had to remind herself to breathe.

Trent continued to hold her to him, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, and groin to groin. A low breathy moan sounded in her throat and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stifle it.

His glance raced over her and he placed his mouth so close to hers she could taste the sweetness of his breath. “You okay?” The tenderness and genuine concern in his voice produced a familiar fullness in her chest, right around the vicinity of her heart.

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” she answered.

Good God, with the way he was meshing their bodies together, she could barely breathe, let alone think. But the one thing she did know was that she was
not
okay. How could she be? The man she left ten years ago, the same man who was staring down at her with equal measures of disdain and desire, held her so intimately and so possessively it was all she could do not to tear her uniform off and beg him to take her right there on the restaurant floor.

A shiver of need ran through her as she carefully extricated herself from his arms. She stood back and took a moment to gather her composure, no easy task considering Trent was standing in front of her looking like sex incarnate. Her knees wobbled and she grabbed the edge of the counter for balance.

Trent took a step closer. “Well, which is it? Are you okay, or are you not okay?”

She fussed with her hair and wiped the flour from her face as her glance devoured him. Dear God, the boy from her past had grown into one hell of a handsome man, dark eyes, short brown hair, rugged features, sun-kissed skin and a beautiful mouth she instantly longed to kiss. Her pulse leapt as she breathed in his familiar earthy scent, and when she detected the clean smell of his favorite soap beneath the surface, warm and wicked sensations stirred her libido.

She cleared her throat and prayed her voice wouldn’t fail her. “I’m okay,” she lied. “But how about you?” Her question sounded rushed and breathless, even to herself. “I crashed into you pretty hard, and I’m not a lightweight anymore,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Looking sexier than ever, he grinned down at her, but didn’t answer. Instead he took a measured step back and stared at her with dark, sensual eyes that made her blood burn in a way it had never burned before. After a long, lingering look, he drove his hands into his jean pockets, pushing them lower on his hips. Katy’s glance dropped to his sexy oblique muscles, which were peeking out from beneath his untucked shirt, and tried not to think about the way her fingers itched to trace each sinewy striation.

He made a noise and her gaze darted back to his face in time to see the sadness in his eyes when they clashed with hers.

He quickly blinked it away, but his voice was a little low, a little rough with emotion when he asked, “How are you, Katy? Or should I say
Kathleen
?”

Katy swallowed, and felt the sting of his words all the way to her core. She couldn’t fault him for his comment, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. She stiffened and adjusted her apron, understanding how things were going to be between them, and wondering how she could possibly make it right again.

“You can call me whatever you want to call me.” Desperate to put some well-needed distance between them, she positioned herself behind the counter and noted the way his gaze tracked her every movement. “Did you want to place an order or did you come here to glare at me?”

“I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“An order it is then. What can I get you, T?”

With that he took a small step back, stumbling slightly. His shoulders tensed and his jaw flexed. Raw emotions flitted across his face as undisguised need entered his eyes.

“What?” Katy asked.

He shook his head, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s nothing.”

Katy knew it wasn’t
nothing
. She took a moment to think about what she said, and then realized she’d made a horrendous slip. She’d called him T, her private nickname for him. The same name she called him whenever they’d made make love. She resisted the urge to slap her forehead. How could she have been so stupid?